(A Song of degrees.) In my trouble I called unto Jehovah, and he answered me.
Psalm 120 opens a set of fifteen short psalms. They carry the singer from trouble at the bottom to blessing at the top, and he starts by calling out to God. Notice the order. We hear the answer first, and only then the problem — so why does a psalm that opens with answered prayer go on to describe a man still surrounded by liars?
These fifteen psalms form one movement, and the words of verse 1 are the doorway into it. One writer traces the whole arc from the opening cry to the closing scene of worship:
Now we come to the Songs of Degrees. They describe what the nation of Israel goes through on the way back to the land, until they reach the full blessing of unity. They begin like this: "In my distress I called to the LORD." They end with, "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell in unity!" Having reached this point, we then have, "you… who by night stand in the house of the LORD."
The title over the psalm comes from a Hebrew word for climbing, and it has been tied to more than one journey upward:
This is the title given to fifteen Psalms, Ps. 120 – 134. The word is maalah. It means 'going up, ascent,' and elsewhere it is translated 'stairs, steps, going up.'… The main thought in the title is 'a going up.' Every male had to go up to Jerusalem three times a year, so these may be the songs they sang on the way. The return from captivity under Ezra and Nehemiah is also called 'a going up,' and these Psalms may have been used then… They show Israel in the land, with all opposition not yet removed.
Commentators differ over which journey is in view. Some hear a captive in Babylon waiting to go home. Others hear God's people back in their land, with opposition not yet removed.
This Psalm suits an Israelite who is still an unwilling captive in Babylon, or in the homes of wickedness — though he is about to leave. The tongue, as here, is often pointed out as the special offender against God and His people.
The psalm gives the answer in line one and the trouble in the lines that follow. Other psalms do the same:
Many of the Psalms do this. They state the result first — what came out of all the soul has been through: "In my distress I called to the LORD, and He answered me." Only afterwards do they describe what the distress was.
Being heard is not the same as being rescued. Here the rescue has not come yet, and the psalmist has only the answer to hold on to:
The 120th psalm is almost all distress. Its main point of cheer comes first of all: "In my distress I called to the LORD, and He answered me." The psalmist knows this, even though the great deliverance he is looking for has not come. God does not always pay a promise on the spot. But when He delays, He pays large interest on it.
The verb is in the past. What God did once becomes the reason to call again now:
In its distress the soul had cried to the Lord, and God made him sure that He had heard. From this past experience he draws encouragement in his present distress.
This trouble is not Israel's alone. One writer traces the same evil, the same grief, and the same answer in the Christian's life:
The first psalm declares their state and their resource. "In my distress I called to the LORD, and He answered me." He speaks of the character of the evil: deceit and hostile power. It was grief of heart to have to deal with this all the time… This is the spirit and character of the Christian living in the middle of the power of evil. Evil shows itself in this way when the presence of good draws it out… It is the grief of a soul that loves peace and is peaceable, having to deal with the wicked deceit of men. The resource is calling on the Lord, who hears.
- Cry — The climb starts at the bottom. The first word of the first Song of Ascents is distress, not triumph.
- Heard — The answer comes before the complaint. Line one settles everything that follows.
- Interest — Being heard is not the same as being rescued. God may not pay at once, but He pays large interest.
- Memory — A past answer becomes present courage. He calls again because God heard him before.
- Ascent — Fifteen psalms later the same voice stands in the house of the LORD, among brothers living in unity. Distress is where the stairway begins, not where it ends.
Jehovah, deliver my soul from the lying lip, from the deceitful tongue.
Psalm 120 opens a set of songs about people back in their land but not yet delivered. It starts at the lowest point: a man surrounded by others whose weapon is speech, and his first move is to ask God to rescue him from it.
The heading over this psalm belongs to a set of fifteen, and the word behind "ascents" points to movement upward.
This is the title given to fifteen Psalms, Psalms 120–134. The word is maalah, and means "going up, ascent," and is translated "stairs, steps, going up." … The main thought in the title being "a going up," it has been suggested that since all males had to go up to Jerusalem three times a year, these may be the songs they sang on their way. The return from captivity under Ezra and Nehemiah is also called "a going up," and these Psalms may have been used on that occasion.
Verse 2 asks for rescue, yet it comes straight after a line saying the cry was already answered. So the man praying knows God hears him, even though nothing has changed yet.
The 120th psalm is almost all distress. The main point of cheer comes first of all: in his distress he calls to the LORD, and He answers him. The psalmist knows this, even though the great deliverance he is looking for has not come. God does not always pay His notes the moment they are presented; but if He does not, He pays large interest on them. "The lying lip" and the "deceitful tongue" are the subject of his first complaint. This may be one particular deceiver, or something more general.
The verse names two things, not one, and the second is the more dangerous. Open falsehood is easy to spot; the counterfeit of truth is not.
The godly man finds himself in a world of corruption. "Lying lips" announce what is false; "a deceitful tongue" pretends to speak the truth. The lies of the world are often hidden under a pretence of truth. Plausible words may be a cover for deadly error.
Commentators differ on the identity of the enemy behind these lips. One reading sees a power that first posed as a friend to God's people and then dropped the mask.
The special charge here is deceit and falsehood. Judgment should come on it. … I do not think this is the oppression of Antichrist, or of the beast at Jerusalem. It applies to those in the land who faced the last hostile power. That power had pretended to favour them, and had led many to abandon their faith for the sake of quiet and prosperity. Now he showed himself to be only a deceitful oppressor.
Others are less certain, and look instead to a figure from the book of Daniel.
Who the particular enemy referred to here is may not be easy to decide. One of his marks is a deceitful tongue, combined with lying lips. Some have thought it is a prophetic reference to the little horn of Daniel 8, that is, to the king of the north in the last days.
He asks God to deliver him because he has no way to deliver himself.
"Lying lips and a deceitful tongue" are the troubles afflicting the righteous in the land. To rid himself of these is beyond his power. … Such is his condition, in which he is helpless to deliver or defend himself. Silence before men, and waiting on God, is the position he must take. He hands his cause over to Him, and as always, when the righteous does that, good results follow.
The psalm describes a future day, but it also speaks to believers now. Anyone who wants peace while living among people bent on conflict stands in the same place.
These psalms all deal with the situation of a people restored to their land but not yet delivered. Our part now is to look into what they mean for the way we live. The first psalm states their condition and their resource. … He was living in the middle of evil. It was his sorrow and his distress. He sought peace: they were for war. This is the spirit and character of the Christian while surrounded by the power of evil. Evil shows itself in this way when the presence of good draws it out. Judgment, however, would come on the false tongue. … The resource is calling on the Lord, who hears.
- Cry. The psalm's one bright point comes first: he called, and God answered. He asks for rescue in verse 2 as a man who already knows he is heard.
- Named. He does not pray in general terms. He names the trouble — lying lips and a deceitful tongue — and asks the LORD to deliver him from it.
- Disguised. Lying lips say what is false outright; a deceitful tongue imitates the truth. The second is why plausible words can carry deadly error.
- Helpless. He cannot rid himself of slander. Silence before people and waiting on God is the position left to him. He hands the case over, and good follows.
- Delayed. God may not settle the account at once, but when He delays He pays large interest. Judgment on the false tongue will come. Until then, the sufferer keeps calling on the Lord who hears.
What shall be given unto thee, what shall be added unto thee, thou deceitful tongue?
Psalm 120 opens the "songs of degrees." It starts at the lowest point: a man surrounded by liars, crying to the Lord. In verse 3 his prayer breaks off and he speaks to the lying tongue itself. Commentators read his question in two very different ways.
The psalmist stops praying and speaks straight to the deceiver. One writer finds the answer to his question in the last book of the Bible.
"What shall be given to you, or what shall be done to you, you false tongue?" (v. 3). What a question with which to search the conscience of a deliberate deceiver! Of course, Revelation 19:20 gives the answer — "cast alive into the lake of fire burning with brimstone." Dreadful end indeed!
Verse 2 names two evils, not one. One writer separates them, and then hears verse 3 asking what more could be piled on such a speaker.
First, the godly man finds himself in a world of corruption. "Lying lips" proclaim what is false; "a deceitful tongue" pretends to speak the truth. Plausible words may be a cover for deadly error. The psalmist realises that judgment upon judgment is coming on the wicked man. So he asks, "What shall be given to you? Or what shall be added to you?" It is not, however, for the godly man to vindicate himself. Christ, the Mighty One, will use sharp arrows and fire against those who have spoken evil of His people.
(Older versions read "you false tongue" and "added to you"; the ESV has "you deceitful tongue" and "what more shall be done to you.")
Not everyone takes the verse as a threat against the tongue. One writer sets out both options and prefers the second.
The third verse may be understood in two very different ways. Most would read it with the common version, as an address to the "tongue" — the deceiver. In this case the question is about God's judgment, and the fourth verse announces it. The numerical structure seems to decide for another interpretation. On that reading the question is, "what does this deceitful tongue give to you?" — and experience answers it… And "coals of broom" do not fit divine judgment so well as human fury breaking out.
What steadies him? One writer points to the assurance that God had already heard his cry.
He had the sense that God had heard his cry, and this quieted his alarms… So the psalmist looks forward with certainty. Deliverance will come through God's judgment on the enemy. "What," he cries, "shall be given to you? Or what shall be done to you, you false tongue? Sharp arrows of the mighty" — the arrows of the King, which will soon pierce the hearts of His enemies (Psalm 45:5). With them come "coals of juniper," coals kindled with the fires of holiness. With these the Lord will search and judge all the workers of iniquity.
A note on the same psalm questions the word "juniper".
"Juniper" would seem to be a mistaken translation. It is said to be a shrub called "Genista," the roots of which were famous for making the best charcoal. The figure, therefore, will mean the intensity of the fire of judgment.
One writer traces the false tongue across Scripture, from named men to the last enemy of God's people.
The tongue, as here, is often noticed as the special offender against God and His people. Doeg, Shimei, the false witnesses (Ps. 12, Ps. 52) offended in this way. And so will the last enemy (Jude 15, 16), according to his type, the little horn (Dan. 7:25). But coals of juniper and the arrows of the mighty one (Christ — Rev. 19) await him. The captive, though still in captivity, strengthens himself with the thought of this judgment on his enemies.
One writer asks what the psalm means for believers now.
These psalms of degrees all treat the circumstances of the restored but undelivered remnant. Our part now is to look into their moral bearing… He sought peace; they were for war. This is the spirit and character of the Christian in the middle of the power of evil. The presence of good calls that evil out, and it shows itself like this. Judgment, however, would come on the false tongue… The resource is calling on the Lord, who hears.
- Cry — The psalm's one bright note comes first: he called, and God heard him. That assurance steadies him before he says a word about his enemies.
- Question — Verse 3 turns from God to the tongue. It asks what can be given or added to it, searching the conscience of a deliberate deceiver.
- Disagreement — Commentators differ. Most read the question as a warning of God's judgment. One reads it as asking what a lying tongue ever gains its owner.
- Answer — On the common reading, verse 4 answers with sharp arrows and burning coals. The coals come from a shrub known for the hottest charcoal, a picture of how fierce the judgment is.
- Posture — The godly man does not vindicate himself. He leaves the false tongue to Christ. He keeps calling on the Lord who hears, and holds to peace when others want war.
Sharp arrows of a mighty one, with burning coals of broom-wood.
Verse 3 asks what will be given to the "deceitful tongue." This verse answers: arrows and burning coals. Commentators read the picture in more than one way. Some hear God's sentence on the deceiver. Others hear human fury breaking out.
The psalm opens with a cry that God heard. One writer traces the confidence of verse 4 back to that answer, and reads the arrows as the King's own:
He had the sense that God had heard his cry, and this quieted his fears. For, as the apostle John wrote, "if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of Him." (1 John 5:15.) So the psalmist looks forward with certainty to deliverance through God's judgment on the enemy… "Sharp arrows of the mighty" are the arrows of the King, which will soon pierce the hearts of His enemies (Psalm 45:5). They are joined "with coals of juniper," coals kindled with the fires of holiness. With that fire the Lord will search and judge all the workers of iniquity.
"Juniper" is a rendering of the Hebrew rothem, and writers point to a desert shrub instead — the same one Elijah sat under:
rothem. This is thought to refer, not to the juniper, but to the Arabic ratam, a 'broom' that grows twelve feet high, under which a person could sit for shelter. 1 Kings 19:4-5. Its roots were burnt for charcoal, and Ps. 120:4 says that sharp arrows of the mighty with coals of juniper were to be applied to a false tongue.
The charcoal is the point of the image:
He knows what such a person deserves and will get: "sharp arrows of a mighty one with coals of broom" (Psalm 120:4). That means a lasting fiery judgment. This is because the ashes of the juniper or broom (as rethem should be translated) are said to keep their heat for a very long time.
Where the ESV has "a warrior," other translations read "a mighty one." Read as judgment, that settles who strikes — and it is not the slandered man:
First, the godly man finds himself in a world of corruption. "Lying lips" proclaim what is false; "a deceitful tongue" pretends to speak the truth. The lies of the world are often hidden under a pretence of truth. Plausible words may be a cover for deadly error… It is not, however, for the godly man to vindicate himself. Christ, the Mighty One, will use sharp arrows and fire against those who have spoken evil of His people (Ps. 14:5).
The psalm does not name the liar, and commentators differ over his identity. Some connect him with the last great deceiver:
The tongue, as here, is often noticed as the special offender against God and His people. Doeg, Shimei, the false witnesses (Ps. 12, Ps. 52) offended in this way. And so will the last enemy (Jude 15, 16) according to his type, the little horn. (Dan. 7:25). But coals of juniper and the arrows of the mighty one (Christ — Rev. 19) await him. The captive, though still in captivity, strengthens himself with the thought of this judgment on his enemies.
Another writer sets the deceiver against the One he opposes:
This Psalm tells the cry under Antichrist — the judgment on the false tongue; for deceit was his and marked him, as Christ was the Truth.
Not everyone takes the arrows and coals as God's sentence. One writer hears human fury breaking out instead, which leads into the war of verse 7:
The third verse may be understood in two very different ways… "Sharp arrows of the mighty" remind us of the similar "sharp razor" of the "mighty one" in the fifty-second psalm, who is also addressed as a "deceitful tongue." And "coals of broom" do not seem so fitting an image for divine judgment as for human fury breaking out. This leads on to the psalmist's lament over his stay in Meshech and in the tents of Kedar. These were nomads, very likely to suggest the "sharp arrows" he has spoken of.
The combination of arrow and fire reappears in the New Testament as a weapon aimed at the believer:
FIERY DARTS means darts tipped with material that catches fire when thrown or on impact. They burn as well as pierce. Eph. 6:16: compare Ps. 120:4. The Christian needs the shield of faith to quench such darts of the wicked one.
- Cry. The psalm begins with a cry God heard. That answer makes the sufferer sure of the outcome in verse 4.
- Coals. Rothem is taken to be the desert broom. Its roots were burnt for charcoal — embers that hold their heat, a picture of judgment that does not burn out.
- Hand. The arrows belong to a mighty One. It is not for the slandered man to vindicate himself. Christ uses arrows and fire against those who speak evil of His people.
- Target. The false tongue has worn many faces — Doeg, Shimei, false witnesses. It reaches its full form in the last deceiver, the liar set against Christ the Truth.
- Dispute. Commentators differ. Some hear God's sentence in verse 4. Others hear human fury breaking out, which leads into the war of verse 7.
Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar!
Psalm 120 opens the "songs of degrees," and a godly man starts it in grief, surrounded by hostile people. Meshech and Kedar lie at opposite ends of the map, so is he naming an address or describing a condition?
Kedar was a real tribe with a real ancestor. It also names the people whose hatred of peace the psalmist felt.
Kedar was a son of Ishmael and the founder of an important tribe living in the north-west of Arabia. The name is probably also used for Arabs in general (Genesis 25:13; 1 Chronicles 1:29). The Psalmist longed for peace, for he had been living in the tents of Kedar, with those who "hated peace" (Psalm 120:5-6).
Their way of life also explains the picture in the verse just before this one.
This leads on to the psalmist's lament over his stay in Meshech and in the tents of Kedar. They were nomads, very likely named to bring to mind the "sharp arrows" he has spoken of. As Ishmaelites, their trade was robbery and war.
Meshech (also spelled Mesech) and Kedar lie far apart. That has led many to read the pair as a picture of character, not geography.
Readers have felt a difficulty about naming Mesech and Kedar together as the place of sojourn (v. 5), since the two seem to have been far apart. Meshech is mentioned along with Gog (Ezekiel 39), while Kedar was a descendant of Ishmael (Genesis 25:13). They are probably moral expressions, showing the hostility of the enemies of God's people.
Commentators differ here. Another writer reads the grammar a different way. On his reading, the gap between the two peoples is the point of the complaint: they press in on Israel from north and south at once.
We may fairly ask whether the construction of "sojourn" points to "with" Meshech rather than "in." The preposition really means "with," not "in," the tents of Kedar. So the psalmist does not mean that he lives among these enemies. He means that they are close by, and hostile to the sons of Israel in their land. One people belongs to the far north, the other to the north-west of Arabia in the south. That supposed difficulty is exactly what gives the complaint its point. The Psalm refers to the last part of the latter-day crisis. Gog (as in Ezekiel 38, 39) then comes up to crush the restored people, who are living in their unwalled villages.
The song belongs to a set that covers one period. This first one catches the moment before the last enemy falls.
We now come, Psalms 120-134, to the songs of degrees. They show, I have no doubt, the outward circumstances of the same period, when Israel is in the land but the power of Gog is not yet destroyed. The first of this series begins with the cry the godly man sends up in his distress to Jehovah, who heard. … His woe is to dwell in Mesech, and among the tents of Kedar. Wrong is in their hearts, and when the godly man spoke of peace, they prepared for battle.
Both names carry a meaning of their own, and one leads to the other.
The psalmist is in deep distress because he lives in Mesech, which means "a drawing," and among the tents of Kedar, which means "darkness" (v. 5). This seems to point to circumstances that tend to draw the heart away, and so end in the darkness of uncertainty.
The same writer brings this sorrow into the present. A Christian meets the same two enemies, and also a comfort.
The Christian can in some measure enter into this sorrow, for the world hates him, and Satan is his enemy too. But he has the comfort of knowing that Christ has overcome the world (John 16:33). And since Satan is a defeated enemy, he will always flee when a believer resists him in the power of the Holy Spirit (James 4:7).
- Cry. God heard the godly man's cry in his distress. The psalm starts there, then names the trouble.
- Place. Kedar descended from Ishmael and lived in north-west Arabia. Meshech belongs with Gog in the far north. One man could not live in both.
- Reading. Some take the pair as moral pictures of hostility. Another reads the word as "with," so the grief is enemies pressing in from both sides.
- Names. "A drawing" and "darkness" — surroundings that pull the heart away and leave it in the dark.
- Comfort. The world's hatred is real, but Christ has overcome the world, and a defeated enemy flees when resisted.
My soul hath long dwelt with them that hate peace.
The speaker has lived a long time among people who hate peace. His pain is not one quarrel but the wear of years. Two questions follow: who is this hater of peace, and what can a peaceable person do while still stuck in his company?
The complaint is about duration as much as danger. One writer names the evil in question, and ends with the one resource left:
The character of evil is spoken of: deceit and hostile power. It was grief of heart to have constantly to deal with this. But such was his condition. He was dwelling in the middle of evil. It was his sorrow, and distress to him. He sought peace: they were for war. It is the spirit and character of the Christian in the middle of the power of evil, which, when the presence of good draws it out, shows itself like this... The resource is calling on the Lord, who hears.
Verse 6 explains verse 5, which names Mesech and Kedar as the place of the long stay:
Some have found a difficulty in the mention of Mesech and Kedar as the place of stay (v. 5), since the two seem to have been far apart... They are probably moral expressions, showing the hostility of the enemies of God's people. The Christian can in some measure enter into this sorrow, for the world hates him, and Satan hates him too. But he has the comfort of knowing that Christ has overcome the world (John 16:33). And since Satan is a defeated enemy, he will always flee when the Christian resists him in the power of the Holy Spirit. (James 4:7.)
Commentators differ on who the hater of peace is. One reads the two names for their meaning, and points to a deceiver who talks peace:
The psalmist is deeply distressed that he dwells in Mesech, meaning "a drawing," and among the tents of Kedar, meaning "darkness" (v. 5). This seems to show him in circumstances that tend to draw the heart away, and so end in the darkness of uncertainty. When this is so among the tested remnant of Israel, they will certainly feel they have dwelt too long close to the Antichrist, who actually hates peace, though he may deceitfully claim to want it (v. 6).
Hating peace is not a mood that better manners could fix. It is what the enemy is:
What a description of the adversary of God and of His people — hating peace! It could not be otherwise, because the mind of the flesh — and here we see it in its full expression — is enmity against God. So the presence of God's people, when they walk before Him, must provoke the enemy's violent opposition... So it is completely useless to try to win the enemy over. As for Israel in the future, so now: we must enter the kingdom through much tribulation.
The psalm reaches past its writer. A man of peace whose speech starts a war — that is how the world met Christ:
"My soul has long dwelt with him that hates peace"; that is the moral of it. "I am peace" — a man marked by that. But to speak it only rouses the opposition: "when I speak, they are for war." This is what the world is. This is what it showed itself to be when the Prince of peace came into it. The angels proclaimed peace over Him when He was born into the world. He knew clearly what would follow at once, and He proclaimed "not peace, but a sword."
This writer uses an older translation; the ESV reads "I am for peace" in verse 7.
Having named the trouble, the psalm offers no self-defence:
Long has he dwelt with those who hate peace. To him, a man of peace, that must have been a trial; but he adds what made it worse, "when I speak, they are for war."... Such is his condition, in which he is helpless to deliver or defend himself. Silence before men, and waiting upon God, is the position he must take. He hands his cause over to Him, and as always, when the righteous does that, good comes of it.
He can speak with hope before rescue comes, because he belongs somewhere else:
The citizen of Jerusalem may well use the words of verses 6 and 7 while he is still in Babylon. The one is God's city, "the city of peace"; the other is man's city, "the city of confusion."
- Long peace — The pain is the length of the stay. Living among evil is itself a grief of heart.
- Named peace — Mesech and Kedar describe a hostile character, not a travel route. One writer points to the Antichrist, who hates peace while claiming to want it.
- Refused peace — The enemy hates peace because the mind of the flesh is enmity against God. Trying to win him over is useless.
- Incarnate peace — Christ could say "I am peace," and the world answered with a sword.
- Awaited peace — He cannot defend himself. His place is silence before men and waiting on God, because he belongs to the city of peace.
I [am for] peace; but when I speak, *they* [are] for war.
This verse closes a psalm that began in distress and ends without rescue. The speaker wants peace, but his words only set others fighting. Who is speaking? Why does peace stir up war? And what can such a man do?
The words are not a bargaining position but a description of the speaker himself. One writer takes the words as a statement of what the man is, and draws out what follows.
The names are, as already said, "emblematic": "My soul has long dwelt with him that hates peace"; that is the moral of it. "I am peace," — a man characterized by that; but to speak it only rouses the opposition: "when I speak, they are for war."
The psalm has been building toward this. The hostility is not new. It has run on a long time, and he cannot end it.
Long has he dwelt with those who hate peace. To him, a man of peace, that must have been a trial. But he adds what made it worse: "when I speak, they are for war." That is his condition, and in it he cannot rescue or defend himself. Silence before men, and waiting upon God, is the position he must take.
The order in the verse matters: peace first, then speech, then war. Commentators trace the reaction back to what the enemy is. Nothing in the words themselves provokes it.
What a description of the adversary of God and of His people — hating peace! It could not be otherwise. The mind of the flesh — seen here in its full expression — is hostile to God. So the presence of God's people, as they walk before Him, must stir up the enemy's violent opposition. So the Psalmist adds, "I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war!" So it is no use at all trying to win the enemy over. As for Israel in the future, so now: it must be through much tribulation that we enter the kingdom.
The same pattern marks the Christian now. Evil stays quiet until good appears and speaks.
He sought peace: they were for war. This is the spirit and character of the Christian while surrounded by the power of evil. The presence of good calls that evil out, and then it shows itself like this.
If "I am peace" describes a character, one Person fits it perfectly. Here the verse reaches beyond the psalmist. Peace itself came into the world, and the world answered with a cross.
This is what the world is: and this is what it showed itself to be when the Prince of peace came into it. The angels proclaimed peace over Him as He was born into it. Yet He knew exactly what would follow at once, and He proclaimed "not peace, but a sword." He could indeed say "I am peace" — peace in person. What did His humanity mean but "peace: good pleasure in man"? Yet His rejection was written on the cross in every representative human language.
Commentators read this psalm as part of a series. They place it in a future time, when Israel is back in the land but the last hostile power is still there.
Wrong is in their hearts; and, when the godly spoke of peace, they prepared for battle. To me it does not look like the oppression of the Antichrist, or of the beast at Jerusalem. It fits those in the land who faced the last hostile power. That power had pretended to favour them, and had led many to abandon their faith for a quiet and prosperous life. Now it showed itself as nothing but a deceitful oppressor.
Verse 7 resolves nothing. The relief comes in the psalm that follows, and the gap between the two is deliberate.
The greater the sense of need, the greater the discovery of what God is for us. So, like these saints of a future day, we are often put to the test. Learning our own helplessness, we come to see that our help and rescue are found in God alone. This explains the connection between these two Psalms. In the last verse of the 120th, the Psalmist cries, "I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war!" What, then, is his resource? The answer is found in the first two verses of the 121st Psalm.
- Character — "I am peace" describes a man marked by it, not a truce he is offering.
- Provocation — peace spoken out loud calls evil into the open. The good rouses the opposition, not any fault in the words.
- Futility — since the hatred comes from a mind at enmity with God, trying to win the enemy over is useless.
- Christ — the Prince of peace met the same answer, and His rejection was written on the cross.
- Resource — silence before men and waiting on God is all that is left; the psalm ends helpless on purpose, so the next one can lift the eyes to the only help there is.
(A Song of degrees.) I lift up mine eyes unto the mountains whence shall my help come?
Psalm 121 opens with lifted eyes and a question: where will help come from? Commentators read the psalm as the answer to the distress of the psalm before it. They differ over the hills: some see God's dwelling there, others a false hope the psalmist must drop.
The psalm before this one leaves God's people under pressure. That pressure is what makes the lifted eyes matter.
In the previous Psalm, distress and conflict mark the condition of God's people. Here the pressure is still on them, yet we see what the Lord is for them in their special circumstances. The greater the sense of need, the greater the discovery of what God is for us. That is why, like these saints of a future day, we are often put to the test. Learning our own helplessness, we come to see that God alone is our help and support.
Another writer names the thing that stops us looking up: confidence in ourselves.
When trial comes, our greatest weakness is often self-confidence. It makes us think we can meet the trial in our own strength, or by our own wisdom. We have to learn that when trial and temptation come we have no strength in ourselves. That lesson may come through bitter experience, as it did for Peter. At every step we need a helper to support us in the trial and carry us through the trial.
One writer explains what changes when the line is read as a question, with verse 2 as the answer.
The beauty of the connection shows more fully with a slight correction in the wording of the first verse. Many read it: "I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?" The second verse is then the answer to that question. Adopt this change, and you can see faith in action. No sooner does the soul cry in its sorrow, "From where does my help come?" than the answer springs out, "My help comes from the LORD."
Commentators differ here. Some read the hills as Zion, God's own dwelling place.
To the singer of Israel, the holy hill of Zion was the dwelling place of Jehovah and the source of his deliverance. The same unseen, watchful Presence never slept. It held the weak exiles in His everlasting wings, whether they were in Mesopotamia or in Africa.
Others read the mountains as strength that only looks unshakeable.
He is surrounded by mountains that look strong, imposing and immovable. Some people in the world look like that too: settled in power, and beyond the reach of an enemy. But can we trust any fellow creature? The prophet Jeremiah tells us, "Truly the hills are a delusion, the orgies on the mountains. Truly in the LORD our God is the salvation of Israel" (Jer. 3:23). He sees his need of help. He also sees that human help is useless. So he turns from the creature to the Creator.
The older translation he quotes here reads: "In vain is salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multitude of mountains."
Either way, the hills do not answer. The One who made them does.
The God-fearing man longs to escape from the land of his captivity, but mountains block his way. He looks at the difficulties, and the cry breaks out of him: "From where does my help come?" At once his faith replies, "My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth." The Maker of the mountains can lead him across the mountains.
In this psalm God carries two titles at once.
The psalm gives Him a double character: Creator of heaven and earth, and the Keeper of Israel, especially of the God-fearing. Jehovah would preserve him in all circumstances and for ever.
The lifted eye is a habit worth training, not just a reaction to crisis.
Verse 1 leads me to say this — that we should train our souls to look more at our resources than at our pressures or difficulties. We should make our hearts familiar with the promises and provisions of grace. Then, when the occasion comes, we may enter the field of battle like Jehoshaphat's army, with the sweet voice of these promises like music in our ears. That joy carries us on to victory. For "joy is strength," as Nehemiah told the congregation (Neh. 8:10).
The confession stays personal, not general:
He does not fall back on acknowledging a general truth that there is help in the LORD. In simple personal faith he says, "My help comes from the LORD."
- Need — the psalm starts from helplessness. The deeper the need, the fuller the discovery of what God is for us.
- Question — verse 1 is best read as a question, so that faith is caught in the act of asking and answering.
- Hills — some read them as Zion, where God lived; others as human power that looks strong but cannot save. Either way they are not the answer.
- Maker — the answer names Him Creator of heaven and earth. The Maker of the mountains can bring His people over the mountains.
- Mine — he does not settle for a general truth about help in the Lord. He says "my help." So look at your resources before your difficulties.
My help [cometh] from Jehovah, who made the heavens and the earth.
A man under pressure scans the horizon for rescue. Verse 2 is where the searching stops. In one line he names his Helper and says what that Helper has made.
Trouble does more than press on us. It teaches us something we would never learn in comfort.
In the previous Psalm, distress and conflict mark the condition of God's people. Here, while the pressure is still on them, we get to see what the Lord is for them in their special circumstances. The greater the sense of need, the greater the discovery of what God is for us. That is why we, like these saints of a future day, often face testing. Learning our own helplessness, we realise that our help and relief are found in God alone.
Many read the first verse as a question, with verse 2 as the reply. The hills he looks at are impressive, and that is exactly the problem.
Realising his need of help, a question at once rises in the Psalmist's soul: "From where shall my help come?" Mountains surround him. They look strong, imposing and immovable. So do some people in the world, who seem firmly established in power and safe from any enemy. But can we trust any fellow creature? The prophet Jeremiah tells us, "Truly the hills are a delusion, the orgies on the mountains. Truly in the LORD our God is the salvation of Israel" (Jeremiah 3:23). He needs help, and the help of man is useless. So the God-fearing man turns from the creature to the Creator.
The older translation he used reads, "In vain is salvation hoped for from the hills" — that is the sense his point rests on.
The whole verse turns on its first word.
He does not fall back on admitting a general truth that there is help in the LORD. In simple personal faith he says, "My help comes from the LORD."
The answer comes the moment faith cries out.
Read this way, you can see that faith is active. The soul cries in its sorrow, "From where shall my help come?" At once the answer springs out, "My help comes from the LORD." This illustrates a principle found everywhere in the Scriptures. If God works to relieve and deliver His people, He acts in connection with their faith, and in response to it. For example, Peter writes of an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for believers. Then he adds, "who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time" (1 Peter 1:4-5). God's own power produces and sustains faith in the soul. Yet faith is still the living link between the soul and God. It secures His intervention and brings Him in for our aid and deliverance.
The title added to the name meets the exact obstacle in his path.
The God-fearing man would love to escape from the land of his captivity, but mountains block his way. The difficulties force a cry out of him, and his faith replies at once. The Maker of the mountains can lead him across the mountains.
The name here also shows how much of God was known at the time. Christians know Him better still.
Notice the name used here: Jehovah, the covenant name of God in relationship with Israel. Notice too the added words, "who made heaven and earth." They fit the revelation God made of Himself to His earthly people. So Jonah confessed to the sailors, "I am a Hebrew, and I fear the LORD, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land" (Jonah 1:9)... The Christian is in the light as God is in the light, for God is now fully revealed in and through the Lord Jesus Christ.
Verse 2 is not the end of the psalm; it opens the rest of it.
In the rest of the Psalm the Spirit of God answers this simple faith. He unfolds the blessings of the one who looks to the LORD for his help. The one recurring thought in these verses is the constant care of the LORD. The word "keep" is the characteristic word of the Psalm. It appears six times in the last six verses.
- Need — Pressure is not a mistake. The deeper the sense of helplessness, the fuller the discovery of what God is for us.
- Question — The hills look strong but give no help. Real need drives the soul past the creature to the Creator.
- Answer — Faith replies with a name, and it says "my." A general truth about God's help carries no one through trouble.
- Maker — The One who made heaven and earth made the mountains too. Nothing in the way is stronger than the Helper.
- Keeper — The confession leads on to constant care. The psalm says "keep" six times as God's answer to that faith.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
The pilgrim has just said where his help comes from: the LORD. Verse 3 is the answer he gets back — two promises, one about his feet, one about the eyes that watch them.
Verse 3 does not begin a new subject. It replies to the confidence just expressed.
Now we come to verse 3. Here, through the Spirit, God answers the faith of the second verse. The soul turns in the confidence of faith to the LORD, who made heaven and earth. And it can be sure of the support and protection of its all-powerful Keeper.
The foot stands for the way a person lives. One writer weighs God's watch over that walk against the lightest human sleep.
"He will not let your foot be moved" (v. 3). Of course, the foot reminds us of our walk, and God will not let it be moved away from the path of obedience. He is the Keeper of Israel. Sleep never interrupts the watch He keeps, and nothing else does either. Slumber may be broken and short, but not even this is possible for the Creator of the universe. He never stops watching over the welfare of all believers.
The promise is not that the road will be smooth. It draws a line between the hardships God permits and the one thing He refuses.
The road we travel may at times be rough. The enemy may oppose us with his tricks and traps. Temptations may abound, and difficulties arise. The LORD may allow all these trials. But there is one thing He will not allow. He will not let the feet of those who trust in Him be moved from the path that leads to glory. The LORD says, "He will not let your foot be moved." So in the next Psalm the godly soul can answer with complete confidence, "Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem" (Psalm 122:2).
One writer sets out what this promise covers: a slippery path, a dark night, and the word "Keeper" itself:
Whatever the dangers, however slippery the path, the Lord will not let the foot of one who trusts in Him be moved — or, perhaps, "slide." The night may be ever so dark around us, but for Him the night shines as the day. Jesus saw from the mountain top His disciples struggling at the oars. In the same way God does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous. He always sees them in all their circumstances of trial and sorrow. And notice: He who watches over His saints this way is their Keeper. The word used here means to guard, to keep safe, to preserve.
Even God's own people fall asleep — in glory, in grief, and in disobedience. The Keeper never does.
An apostle may sleep on the mountain, in the presence of a glory too bright for nature. He may sleep again in the garden, in the presence of a sorrow too deep for us to bear. But the One who is our Keeper will "neither slumber nor sleep." A backsliding saint, like Jonah long ago, may be "fast asleep." He sleeps while the LORD is working, the wind is rising, the sea is raging, the ship is sinking, and the men of the world are trembling. But there is One who loved His own who are in the world, and loves them to the end. His love never stops caring for His own in all the storms of life.
The keeping promised here reaches in two directions at once.
The believer learns that the care of the Lord never stops: "He who keeps you will not slumber." He keeps each individual believer. And He is the Keeper of Israel as a whole.
Commentators differ on how directly the promise carries over to Christians now. One sounds a caution:
We must note that the literal application of this is not exactly ours now. Christ was counted among transgressors, and we have to go on without looking for complete deliverance. Yet we can be sure that the hairs of our head are numbered. God does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous now. But we do not expect Him to keep us safe on earth, as the Jew rightly will in the path of faithfulness. Still, our Father does watch over us with unceasing vigilance.
- Faith first. The promise arrives as the Spirit's answer to a soul that has just said its help comes from the LORD.
- Feet next. The foot stands for the walk, and God keeps that walk on the path of obedience.
- Rough, but not lost. God allows a hard road, enemies and temptations. He refuses one thing only: to let trusting feet leave the path.
- A Keeper who never blinks. The word means guard, keep safe, preserve. Darkness changes nothing: night shines as day for Him.
- Held to the end. The same care covers one believer and the whole people, until those kept feet stand inside the gates.
Behold, he that keepeth Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The traveller in this psalm has already asked where his help comes from. He answered it himself: the LORD. Verse 4 answers him. It moves from his own safety to the safety of a whole nation, and rests everything on one claim: God never stops watching.
The whole song turns on a single verb, repeated until the reader cannot miss it.
In the rest of the Psalm the Spirit of God answers this simple faith. He opens up for us the blessings of the one who looks to the LORD for help. The one recurring thought in these verses is the constant care of the LORD. The word "keep" is the characteristic word of the Psalm. The word "preserve" in verses 7 and 8 should be translated "keep." Once you see that, you can count this encouraging word six times in the last six verses.
The word translated "keeps" means a guard on duty. This guard is never off duty, even in the dark.
There is never a moment when the eyes of the Lord are off His people. He never stops His constant watch on their behalf. The night around us may be as dark as it can be, but for Him the night shines like the day... And notice this: the One who watches over His saints this way is their Keeper — the One who guards, keeps safe, preserves. That is the force of the word used here. What encouragement this gives to God's tested and suffering people! And what an invitation to rest in Him without wavering, in the middle of the trials and unrest around us!
Verse 3 has already said He will not slumber. Verse 4 says it again and adds a second word — and the doubling is deliberate.
So it is not just that Jehovah will keep His people safe in their special difficulties. He is introduced here as Israel's Keeper. This is a relationship that marks Him out. So the words "nor sleep" add even more force to the statement that Jehovah does not slumber. He is always awake. He never forgets His own for a single moment. So there is no break in His watchful care and keeping. And do not miss the picture of the unity of God's people here. He is not only the Keeper of the believer, but He is also the Keeper of Israel.
So the verse widens the promise. The care given to one person in verse 3 now covers the whole nation.
The contrast is not with nature in general. It is with God's own people, who do fall asleep.
An apostle may sleep on the mountain, in front of a glory too bright for human nature. He may sleep again in the garden, in front of a sorrow too deep for us to bear. But the One who is our Keeper will "neither slumber nor sleep." A believer who has drifted from God, like Jonah long ago, may be "fast asleep." The LORD is working, the wind is rising, the sea is raging, the ship is sinking, the men of the world are trembling — and still he sleeps. But there is One who loved His own who are in the world, and loves them to the end, with a love that never stops caring for them in all the storms of life.
The Lord Jesus once slept through a storm at sea. Set beside this verse, that sleep says something about who He is.
On board a sailing vessel the Lord Jesus calmly slept. So He must be Man, because God does not sleep (Ps. 121:4). Then the disciples woke Him, afraid the raging storm would capsize the boat. He rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. He showed that He is God, the master of the elements. He could sleep only because He is Man; He has authority over wind and sea because He is God.
This keeping is not only an inward comfort. It works in real events: Herod could not block the way.
It had been said, "Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep" (Ps. 121:4), and that watchful eye and hand had prevented Herod from closing the door of entrance against Him. God saw to it that He had full access to the sheep.
In one line, the psalm shows Jehovah as "Israel's help and keeper, who does not slumber or sleep, in all circumstances and for ever" (William Kelly).
- Keeper — the word means to guard, keep safe, preserve. It is the key word of the psalm, used six times in the last six verses.
- Keeps you — verse 3 speaks to the single believer: He is the Keeper of each one.
- Keeps Israel — verse 4 widens the same care to the whole people, so the promise is corporate as well as personal.
- Keeps awake — "nor sleep" adds force: no gap, no forgotten moment. His saints sleep; He does not. The One who never sleeps became the Man asleep in the boat.
- Keeps forever — the guard is unbroken in all circumstances and without end.
Jehovah is thy keeper, Jehovah is thy shade upon thy right hand;
Psalm 121 asks one question: where does my help come from? This verse is the heart of the answer. It gives two pictures — a keeper who never looks away, and a shade against the burning sun.
One writer notes that the answer keeps circling back to one word, and counts how often it appears.
In the rest of the psalm the Spirit of God answers this simple faith. He unfolds for us the blessings of the one who looks to the LORD for his help. The one recurring thought in these verses is the constant care of the LORD. The word "keep" is the characteristic word of the psalm. In verses 7 and 8 the word "preserve" should be translated "keep." Once you see that, you find this encouraging word six times in the last six verses.
Everything else in the psalm rests on this one statement. Note the warning at the end: the truth stands whether or not we feel it, but only faith draws on it.
"The LORD is your keeper" means nothing less than this: He is an absolute and perfect Keeper. The details that follow are only the consequences of that, or the general truth applied. In itself, it is an immense thing to know that the Lord is our Keeper. In dangers, difficulties, and trials, this assurance would calm our fears at once and clear away our anxieties, if we really took hold of it. No one can deny it is true, whatever our state of soul. But remember: faith alone can make use of the blessing of being kept by God. Faith alone turns to Him for help at the moment of need and pressure.
Shade in a hot land is survival, not decoration. One writer applies it to more than the weather.
Of course, as the Keeper He is our protector. As the shade He steps in between us and the heat of oppression or of hard circumstances. So we need not fear the sun by day, as many do in lands of extreme heat.
The phrase points to nearness, not just strength. The same writer finds the sense of it in Isaiah's picture of shelter.
"Shade" may be understood, from what follows, as protection. We read the same in Isaiah: "You have been … a shade from the heat, when the blast of the ruthless is like a storm against a wall." So the expression seems to mean that the Lord's protection is always available — always, to use a common phrase, "at hand" for His people.
The right hand is also the side where a companion walks.
A friend at our right hand is a friend at our side, whom we can turn to at any moment… How good to realise there is a Friend beside me, whom I can turn to! He has all wisdom to guide in every difficulty, all the power to overcome every opposition, all sympathy in every sorrow, all grace for every weakness, and mercy for every need.
The picture recalls Israel's journey through the desert, when God went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud.
The pillar of cloud by day appears again in the shade on the right hand. It stops the scorching desert sun from striking the people of God, and the moon by night too (for the moon can affect both eyes and brain). But this is only an illustration of a wider and perfect protection: "The LORD will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life."
Writers weigh carefully who this promise is for. One ties it to Israel's future deliverance on earth.
Psalm 121:5, "The LORD is your shade on your right hand," is plainly a prophetic song for Israel in a coming day.
That does not empty the verse for a Christian reader. But it does change what we can claim from it.
But note that the literal application of this does not fit us now… we have to go on not looking for absolute deliverance. Yet we can be sure that the hairs of our head are numbered. God does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous now. But we do not expect, as a result, to be preserved on earth, as the Jew who walks in faithfulness rightly will. Yet our Father does watch over us with unceasing care. We may be at peace under the shadow of His wings. Our instruction is, in the middle of every evil, to look only to the Lord.
- Keeper. The psalm's answer to "where does my help come from?" is one repeated word — "keep" appears six times in the last six verses.
- Absolute. "The LORD is your keeper" is a complete statement; every promise after it is only that truth applied.
- Available. "At your right hand" marks nearness — protection always at hand, and a Friend at your side to turn to at any moment.
- Shade. He steps between His people and the heat, as the pillar of cloud shielded them in the desert.
- Applied. Israel will yet see this kept on earth. For the Christian it is not escape from trouble, but a Father whose watch never stops.
The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
The Psalm has just called the LORD a keeper and a shade. Now the two great lights of the sky lose all power to hurt. Is this a promise of a life without trouble, or something else?
Writers read the two lights as pictures of what can harm, each in its own hours.
The "shadow of the Almighty" would block the rays of both. He surrounds His people with that shadow, and under it they stay safe forever. The "sun" and the "moon" are only emblems of the evil influences of the day and the night, which these two lights rule in turn. The scorching rays of the glaring day have no power over those who rest under Jehovah's overshadowing care. Neither do the harmful evils of the night. These promises apply first of all to God's earthly people, but they are also available, in an even higher sense, for the Christian.
Commentators differ on how far to press the two images. One reads them as pointing to persons rather than perils:
The sun speaks of supreme light, and so is a picture of God revealed in the Lord Jesus Christ (Mal. 4:2). He would have a right to use His punishing power, and He will use it over those who oppose Him. But for believers His influences are sweet, like the sun in normal weather. The moon pictures the nation Israel, made to reflect the light of God's glory. But in some cases it can also be a source of trouble. Yet God will keep Israel from harming its own people who trust in Him.
The picture behind the promise is a desert march. God once went ahead of His people there as a pillar of cloud.
The LORD is Israel's Keeper: so faith, even from far off, claims Him — Jehovah, the faithful covenant-keeping God. The Pillar of Cloud by day appears again in the shade at the right hand. That shade forbids the scorching desert sun to strike the people of God. It forbids the moon by night too, for the moon can affect both eyes and brain. But this is only an illustration of a wider and perfect protection.
The promise covers every hour of the day. But being kept is not the same as escaping the danger.
The believer who looks to the LORD for help can be sure that the LORD will keep him at all seasons. In a world of warring nations we have to face ever-present dangers, both "by day" and "by night." The LORD does not say to the believer, "You will not have to face these terrors as others do." Instead He says, "If you make Me your 'refuge', and put your 'trust' in Me, 'You will not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day; nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that wastes at noonday'" (Psalm 91:2, 5, 6).
This pledge rests on the line just before it: the Lord is your keeper. And it only helps a person who believes it.
"The Lord is your keeper" means nothing less than that He is an absolute and perfect keeper. The details that follow are only the consequences of this, or the general truth applied. Hold this assurance in power, and in dangers, difficulties, and trials it would calm our fears at once and clear away our anxieties. It is true whatever our state of soul — no one can deny that. But we must remember: faith alone can make use of the blessing of being kept by God. Faith alone turns to Him for help at the moment of need and pressure.
Taken at face value, the verse promises that no harm lands. One writer warns against claiming that literally today, but insists God's care is unbroken.
We must notice now that the literal application of this is not right today. Christ has been counted among transgressors, and we have to go on without looking for absolute deliverance. Yet we are to be sure that the hairs of our head are numbered. God does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous now. But we do not expect to be kept for earth as a result, the way the Jew rightly will be when he walks in faithfulness. Still, our Father does watch over us with unceasing watchfulness.
- Keeper first. "The Lord is your keeper" carries the whole promise about sun and moon. The details are just that one truth applied.
- Shade next. The desert cloud stands between the traveller and the blaze. The protection is at hand, on the right side.
- Day and night covered. Sun and moon rule the two halves of the clock. Under that shadow, neither the glare of day nor the harm of the dark can reach you.
- Kept, not exempt. He does not promise you will meet no terrors; He promises you will not be afraid of them.
- Faith uses it. The keeping is true whatever your state of soul. But only faith turns to Him under pressure and gets the good of it.
Jehovah will keep thee from all evil; he will keep thy soul.
Psalm 121 has been building toward this line: the LORD who made heaven and earth guards one person, and guards them completely. Two questions follow — how far does "all evil" reach, and what does God keep when He keeps the "soul"?
The English wording hides a repetition that shapes the whole psalm:
The one recurring thought in these verses is the constant care of the LORD. "Keep" is the characteristic word of the Psalm. Remember that the word "preserve," in verses 7 and 8, should be translated "keep." Then you will notice that this encouraging word occurs six times in the last six verses.
Verse 7 drops the pictures of verse 6 and names no limit. Part of the comfort lies in what we never notice:
(v. 7) Fifth, the Lord is a Keeper from "all evil." We see only a few of the evils that lie in our path. The Lord sees and keeps us "from all evil."
That evil is not only physical. The same writer lists the shapes it takes and where the real pressure falls:
Scripture speaks of evil thoughts, evil imaginations, evil words, evil deeds, and evil doers. The Christian is blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, so he faces special opposition from the "spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" that work behind the scenes. Still, the believer who looks to the LORD can stand against every attack of the enemy on "the evil day," "in the strength of His might," and so be kept from evil.
Commentators differ on the second half of the verse. The word behind "soul" has no one fixed sense, which is why the ESV renders it "he will keep your life":
The next clause is, "He will keep your soul." The word translated "soul" is a little ambiguous, as it is in Greek too. It is sometimes translated "life." Being kept for the blessings of Messiah's kingdom is a typical Jewish promise, so it is possible that this is its meaning here.
Another writer reads it of the inner life held firm under pressure, and is frank about death:
So He kindly preserves the godly from all evil. He does not only keep the body from harm; He keeps opposition from overwhelming the soul (v. 7)… Believers today may certainly count on the same preserving care, whatever the affliction they meet — even the pain of death. In that case He preserves in death, though not from it.
The promise is not a guarantee of an untouched life. Faith takes hold of it, and it matches the way Jesus prayed for His own:
The promise, "The LORD will keep you from all evil," should not, we think, be treated as if it worked apart from the state of the soul. As said before, the living link between the soul and God is faith, and God works through it to bless and protect the believer. So faith can take up this word of comfort and rest on it in the darkest days, when Satan shows his power on all sides. The believer will also remember that, when the Lord presented His own before the Father, He said, "I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one."
Another writer marks off what belongs to Israel from what belongs to us now, without losing the comfort:
But we must note that this does not apply literally at the present time. Christ has been counted among criminals, and we have to go on without looking for absolute deliverance. Yet we are to be sure that the hairs of our head are numbered. God does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous now. But we do not therefore expect to be preserved in earthly life, as the Jew rightly will in the path of faithfulness. Still, our Father does watch over us with unceasing care. We may be at peace under the shadow of His wings. Our instruction is, in the middle of every evil, to look only to the Lord.
The verse says nothing about the strength of the one kept. That is the point:
It is good to think this over, and to notice that the foundation of all our security lies in what God is for His people… "But must we not watch and pray, and so on?" Even for the power to watch and pray we depend on the Lord, and it is as we realise this that we rest quietly and peacefully on Him.
- Keep — the verb, not "preserve," is the psalm's heartbeat, sounding six times in six verses.
- All — the guard covers the dangers you see and the many you never notice, including evil thoughts, words and unseen opposition.
- Soul — commentators differ: some read the inner person held steady under attack, others read "life" kept for Messiah's kingdom.
- Faith — the promise is no charm; faith takes hold of it. Jesus asked not that His own leave the world, but that God keep them from the evil one.
- God — safety rests on what God is for His people, not on the strength of the one kept. Even the power to watch and pray comes from Him.
Jehovah will keep thy going out and thy coming in, from henceforth and for evermore.
This closing line ends a run of promises where one word keeps coming back. It stretches the Lord's care over both halves of ordinary life, and over all the time to come. It raises two simple questions. How much of my life does "going out and coming in" cover? How far does "forevermore" reach?
Older translations say "preserve" here, which hides the link between this verse and the ones before it. One writer counts the repeats and finds one theme in the whole song.
In the rest of the Psalm the Spirit of God answers this simple faith. He unfolds for us the blessings of the one who looks to the LORD for his help. The one recurring thought in these verses is the constant care of the LORD. The word "keep" is the characteristic word of the Psalm. The word "preserve," in verses 7 and 8, should be translated "keep." Then you can see that this encouraging word occurs six times in the last six verses.
The two words picture a life that never stays still. The promise meets that restlessness head on.
"Going" and "coming" speak of the changing circumstances that mark a world of unrest. In the gospel day, the Lord could say to His disciples, "Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while. For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat" (Mark 6:31). In His compassionate care the Lord will give us times of rest "apart" from the busy world. But down here it will only be "rest a while" — words that show we must be on the move again. For the eternal rest we must look ahead. "There remains … a Sabbath rest for the people of God." Of the one who enters that blessed rest we read, "Never shall he go out of it" (Heb. 4:9; Rev. 3:12). In the meantime life is a busy round of toil in a world of need. Yet the one who looks to the Lord for help can count on the Lord to keep him in every circumstance.
Another writer reads the pair differently, and takes the second word as the answer to the first.
The first of the two is the evil God's people were liable to; the second is their sure, safe, and secure refuge, and that for ever.
One writer traces how far the last phrase reaches. It runs far past our own lifetime.
Finally, Jehovah's sheltering care covers the going out and the coming in of His people "from this time forth and forevermore." It runs on through the thousand years, to the close of the millennial kingdom. God thinks of everything. So He gives us a glimpse into His heart for His people. We see it in the daily, tireless watch He keeps over them, to preserve and bless them.
One writer takes that endless reach one step further. Eternity is not idleness.
Eternity will have its blessed activities, lived in equally blessed dependence on the unfailing God.
So where does this security rest? Not on us. Dennett presses that home against our instinct to add something of our own.
This is worth pondering. Note that the foundation of all our security lies in what God is for His people. We need to remember this at all times. Our hearts cling to a wretched legalism. If we are not settled in grace, we are tempted to think that something depends on ourselves. No! We depend wholly on God, on what He is as revealed in Christ. "But must we not watch and pray, and the like?" Even for the power to watch and pray we are dependent on the Lord.
Dennett passes on another writer's words on how a Christian should read this psalm today. Being kept is not the same as being spared trouble.
Certainly, believers today may count on the same preserving care, whatever may be the affliction they encounter — even the pain of death — for in this case He preserves in death, though not from it.
Dennett quotes another writer making the same distinction more sharply, and adding what the Christian does keep.
We must note that the literal application of this Psalm does not hold for us now. Christ was counted among transgressors, and we go on our way without looking for complete deliverance. Yet we can be sure that the hairs of our head are numbered. God does not turn His eyes away from the righteous. But we do not expect, in the end, to be kept for earth, as the Jew rightly will while walking in faithfulness. Yet our God and Father does watch over us with unceasing vigilance. We may be at peace under the shadow of His wings. Our instruction is, in the midst of every evil, to look only to the Lord.
- Kept — the word. "Preserve" means "keep," and it sounds six times in the last six verses. This verse is the final beat of one drum.
- Kept everywhere. "Going out" and "coming in" cover the whole restless round of leaving and returning. The Lord keeps in every circumstance, not just some.
- Kept always. "From this time forth and forevermore" runs on through the thousand years, to the close of that kingdom. Eternity itself will have activity, lived in dependence on God.
- Kept by God, not by me. All security rests on what God is for His people; even the strength to watch and pray comes from Him.
- Kept, not exempted. The Christian should not expect complete deliverance from trouble. Yet the hairs of our head are numbered, and our Father watches over us without a break.
(A Song of degrees. Of David.) I rejoiced when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of Jehovah.
This psalm is a song for the road, and it opens with one man's answer to an invitation. Why should a journey to a building make a heart leap, and who is the "us"?
One man speaks in this verse, but he was one of many. Writers tie this psalm to crowds who travelled together.
How happy the men of Israel must have been! They all gathered from every part of the country to the same centre, with one heart and one aim: to meet the Lord, and to give back to Him His portion out of the fullness of blessing He had given them. People believe that these happy crowds sang the little group of Psalms (120-134) called the "Songs of Degrees" as they journeyed to the city of the Great King, Jerusalem.
The gladness is not manufactured. It grows out of what the previous psalm settled about God Himself. And once the house is named, the singer no longer speaks alone.
To know the Lord Himself is to be attracted to the place where He dwells. This is the connection between this and the previous Psalm. There, faith voiced its confidence in verse 2, and the answer came: the Lord is all-sufficient for all His people's needs. Knowing Him like this, in His tender grace and watchful care, the soul could now say, "I was glad when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the LORD!'" (v. 1). He had become everything to the one who looked to Him, and it was there that He dwelt and displayed His glory. Notice, too: name the house of the Lord, and isolation ends; all God's people come into view. It is, Let us go to the house of the LORD.
If the gladness is real, it will show in whether the appointed meeting place matters at all.
No doubt, if the heart were cold and careless toward God, it would matter little about the place of worship; all places would be alike. But we may set this down as a fixed principle. Every loyal loving heart, from one end of the land to the other, would gladly hurry to the place where Jehovah had recorded His Name, and where He had appointed to meet His people.
The decision to go has a second effect. One writer ties verse 2 back to the promise about feet in the psalm before it.
The psalm opens with the psalmist's joy. He hears that the godly have decided to journey together to the house of the Lord. Confident that the Lord is their keeper, as Psalm 121 sets out, the remnant take courage for the pilgrim way to the house of the Lord. The immediate effect of this decision is to fill their hearts with assurance. If the Lord will not let the feet of His saints be moved (Ps. 121:3), they can say with confidence, "Our feet shall stand within your gates, O Jerusalem."
(The ESV reads verse 2 as "Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem!" Older translations say "shall stand", the sense used here.)
Going up together produces results that reach beyond those who set out.
These, and many other Scriptures, show the blessedness and joy of the people of God as they move together in relation to His interests. In his second chapter Isaiah speaks of the great gain such movements bring — "He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His paths." Zechariah tells of the healthy way it affects others. See what precious results such movements yield! Praise and thanksgiving to God. Gladness of heart in a greater knowledge of God's holy ways. A deepening desire to walk in a way that pleases Him. And a testimony which draws others to Himself!
Commentators apply the verse in two directions. One is the present, where the parallel is with believers gathering to the Lord's name.
Long ago, those who sought Jehovah went up to the temple in Jerusalem. Now those who seek the Lord go up to that separate company which God Himself has gathered, and which stands for His assembly. He is in the midst of those gathered to His name.
The other looks ahead, to a day still to come:
How full of joy the godly in Israel will be when they are invited to go into the house of the Lord (v. 1). By then the temple will stand rebuilt, as the later chapters of Ezekiel show. God will have restored this centre of His dealings, and that fact alone will move those who have long waited for this work of His.
- Knowing — the gladness starts with the Lord Himself. Know Him as keeper and all-sufficient, and the place where He dwells draws you.
- Invited — the call comes from others, and it is plural: "let us." Name His house, and the singer's isolation ends. All God's people come into view.
- Going — a cold heart treats every place as the same; a loving heart hurries to the place God appointed for meeting His people.
- Standing — the God who will not let your foot be moved is why you can say your feet will stand inside the gates. Assurance follows the decision to go.
- Overflowing — the journey gives back: thanksgiving, a deeper knowledge of God's ways, a walk that pleases Him, a testimony that draws others in.
Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem.
This verse answers the invitation of verse 1: the joy of setting out has become the certainty of arriving. But are the feet already standing there, or only sure of standing one day? Older translations read "our feet shall stand," and the writers quoted below often keep that wording.
Psalm 121 promises that the Lord will not let the foot be moved. One writer reads this verse as the direct reply to that promise.
The psalm opens with an expression of joy on hearing the decision of the godly to journey together to the house of the Lord. Confident that the Lord is their keeper, as Psalm 121 sets out, the faithful remnant take courage to walk the pilgrim way to the house of the Lord. The immediate effect of this decision is to fill their hearts with assurance. If the Lord will not let the feet of His saints be moved (Ps. 121:3), they can boldly say, "Our feet shall stand within your gates, O Jerusalem."
The verse says our feet, not my feet.
Notice, too, that the moment the house of the Lord is mentioned, isolation ceases, and all God's people are introduced. It is, Let us go into the house of the Lord. The same is true now, when the individual believer learns in any measure what the assembly is: God's dwelling through the Spirit. It is true, too, when he learns what it means to have the Lord Himself among those gathered to His precious name.
Commentators differ on the tense. Some read it as faith reaching its goal before the journey is over.
Their pilgrimage was not yet over. But faith gave them such security that they could rest in perfect confidence. As in Psalm 84, they would go from strength to strength, and every one of them would appear in Zion before God.
Others take the feet as planted there already. For them the psalm is the end of the road, not the middle.
Jerusalem is now the uniting centre for Israel — in fact, though the psalm does not say so, of the whole earth. The first verse gives the basis of that unity: the power of Jehovah's house over the soul. How glad they will be when someone says to them, "Let us go into the house of Jehovah"! For them it is no longer a matter of faith. It is one of sight: "standing are our feet within your gates, Jerusalem."
Why these gates and no others? Because God had attached His name to that spot, and a warm heart cares where He said He would meet His people.
No doubt, if the heart were cold and careless toward God, it would matter little about the place of worship; all places would be alike. But we may lay down this fixed principle. Every loyal, loving heart from Dan to Beersheba would gladly hurry to the place where Jehovah had recorded His Name, and where He had appointed to meet His people.
One writer reads the verse forward, to a Jerusalem God Himself restores.
How full of joy the godly in Israel will be when they are invited to go into the house of the Lord (v. 1). By that time the temple will stand again, as the later chapters of Ezekiel show. The very fact that God restores this centre of His dealings will deeply move those who have long looked for this divine work. Their feet stand within the gates of a revived Jerusalem (v. 2).
The same keeping belongs to the Christian on the road now.
The road we travel may at times be rough. The enemy may oppose us with his tricks and traps. Temptations may abound, and difficulties arise. All these trials the LORD may allow. But there is one thing He will not allow: He will not let the feet of those who trust in Him be moved from the path that leads to glory... He has marked out the path for the Christian. If we keep our eye on Christ as our unfailing help and follow Him, that path will lead far into the depths of glory where He has gone.
And what draws the heart there is a Person, not an address.
The Lord's house — that is, His presence and worship in the place of His rest — is our desire (for us, heaven)... It is loved, not only for the Lord's own sake, the centre of all, but for all the saints' sake... Heaven is loved, but it is loved as being the dwelling-place of Him with whom we have to do — our Father's house.
- Kept — Psalm 121 promised that He will not let the foot be moved, so these feet can stand.
- Together — name God's house, and "I" becomes "us"; isolation ends where worship begins.
- Standing — commentators differ: is this faith expecting arrival, or sight enjoying it? Either way, arrival is certain.
- Centred — a cold heart thinks all places alike; a loving heart goes where God put His name.
- Glory — keep the eye on Christ, and the same road ends in the Father's house, loved for the One who lives there.
Jerusalem, which art built as a city that is compact together,
Psalm 122 is a pilgrim's song, and verse 3 is the moment the traveller looks up at the city itself. He sees a city "bound firmly together" — older versions read "compact together," and that is the wording in the quotes below.
Is this Jerusalem as it stood, or Jerusalem as God means it to be? The psalmist speaks of the city as finished. No pilgrim's eyes could confirm that. Commentators say the description belongs to God's purpose, not to the city's state at the time.
In the confidence of faith, the godly man views Jerusalem, their journey's goal. He sees it not as it has been through the ages, but as it will be according to God's purpose. In Nehemiah's day the wall of Jerusalem lay broken down and its gates burned with fire. Now, the godly man, looking beyond the ruin, sees it not just being built, but finished — "a city that is compact together." There are no breaches left in the wall.
Later in these same pilgrim songs the singers work out who does the building. The vision of verse 3 is one thing; the power to bring it about is another.
So, in the course of these pilgrim psalms, the godly own three things. It is the Lord who sets them free. It is the Lord who keeps them on their pilgrim journey. And it is the Lord who establishes them in the home to which they are going. They had seen the purpose of the Lord to have Jerusalem "builded" and "compact together" (Ps. 122:3). Now they recognise that only the Lord can carry out His purpose.
The picture is first of all architectural: a city whose parts fit. One writer names what the pilgrims admire, and points to another city Scripture measures the same way.
First, it is the form, the beauty of the city itself which excites admiration: it is built as a city that is compact together. The symmetry and completeness of the city arrest the attention. This is the city as it will be in the future glories of the kingdom, though the splendour of Jerusalem in David's reign may have supplied its prophetic type. The Christian will at once recall the measurements of the new Jerusalem. The earthly city will stand in direct relationship to it: "And the city lies foursquare, and its length is the same as its breadth… The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal." This is finite perfection, pictured by the shape of a cube — a finite perfection that God bestows.
A city can be packed tight by walls or by trade. One writer points to a different bond here, and to something the psalm's first verse already said.
This city compacted together is indeed a resurrection: all are firmly united, because the divine attraction that the first verse expresses holds them. No other bond can unite like this, and no other bond lasts for ever as this one does.
One writer reads verses 3 and 4 together as one picture: the union of the whole nation. The old rivalry between its tribes is over.
Verses 3, 4 express the perfect union in blessing of the entire nation. Ephraim no longer envies Judah, nor does Judah trouble Ephraim. They flow together as a testimony to Israel.
Another writer sets that unity against the old mixture of godly and ungodly, and against the discord of cities today.
The city will be built. It will no longer loosely hold both godly and ungodly together. It will be compacted together — a unity so unlike the discord seen in cities today (v. 3).
One writer looks back at what Jerusalem had been, and at what had happened to her since.
Such had been the glory of Jerusalem, the centre for worship and centre of government. How could they ever forget what she had once been? But how mixed her history had been! The house of the Lord, to which he turned with joy, had lain in ruins for ages, and its holy site had been given over to other uses. The city too had for centuries ceased to be the centre of government. But now their hopes revive, and, with the Lord as their keeper, they can look for peace.
- Attraction. The city holds together by the divine attraction the psalm's first verse expresses. No other bond unites like this one.
- Compacted. The word describes fit and finish: symmetry and completeness, a city with no breaches left in its wall.
- Gathered. What is true of the stones is true of the people. The tribes flow together, and Ephraim no longer envies Judah.
- Built by God. Faith sees the finished city while the ruins still stand. Only the Lord can carry His purpose through.
- Centred. Jerusalem had been the centre of worship and of government, and there the hope of peace revives.
Whither the tribes go up, the tribes of Jah, a testimony to Israel, to give thanks unto the name of Jehovah.
Psalm 122 is a pilgrim song, and verse 4 is the moment the singer looks around and sees the whole nation on the road with him. ESV reads "as was decreed for Israel." Older translations read "a testimony to Israel." The writers quoted below follow that older wording.
The psalm's title points to a journey. One writer traces the name of the whole series back to this very verse.
These "songs of degrees" are better called "songs of the ascents." We are surely right to explain that name first of all by the going up of the tribes three times a year to the feasts at Jerusalem, which the third psalm of this same series speaks of (Ps. 122:4). But that is only a clue to the inner meaning. This repeated call to the city of God has in view the "set times" of Leviticus 23, which speak of God's gracious acts toward His people — acts that will gather them round Himself in praise for ever. The "ascents" are, therefore, above all else, ascents of the heart to Him because of His grace.
The tribes are not travelling to a capital but to a house. Their name — "the tribes of the LORD" — also describes what they will become.
The psalm shows Jerusalem as the gathering-point for all the people... Jerusalem will be Israel's true centre because of the house of the Lord. So the city's name in that day will be Jehovah-shammah — the Lord is there. His presence there, as always, will be the attraction for all His own. Notice here that the tribes are called "the tribes of the Lord." By then their stubbornness and rebellion will all be over, and they will plainly belong to Him whose name they bear.
Another writer names what holds the city together.
Jerusalem is now the uniting centre for Israel — in fact, though the psalm does not say so, of the whole earth. The first verse gives the basis of that unity: the power of Jehovah's house over the soul.
Ephraim and Judah, two rival parts of the nation, had envied and troubled each other. Verse 4 pictures that rivalry gone.
Verses 3, 4 express the perfect union in blessing of the entire nation. Ephraim no longer envies Judah, and Judah no longer troubles Ephraim. They flow together as a testimony to Israel.
The clause can mean a testimony given to Israel, not something Israel owns. On that reading, the crowd on the road is itself the message.
The next clause is better translated: "A testimony for, or to, Israel"... This means that the gathering of all the tribes, their shared going up to the house of the Lord, would go out as a testimony to the whole nation.
The journey ends in one activity, and it aims at a person, not a place.
The tribes gather in order "to give thanks to the name of the LORD," to Jehovah as He is revealed among Israel. One of David's last acts was to appoint the Levites "to stand every morning, thanking and praising the LORD, and likewise at evening" (1 Chr. 23:30). But at the time our psalm speaks of, all the tribes together will share this blessed service of thanksgiving and praise.
One writer uses this verse to settle which Jerusalem the psalm means.
This Psalm is clearly about the earthly Jerusalem, not the heavenly one. The tribes do not go up to the heavenly city to give thanks. The thrones of David's house are not set there. And no house or temple of God can be seen in that lasting city of His rest (Rev. 21:22).
The psalm still speaks to the reader. Another writer links love for God's dwelling with love for God's people.
Love for that place of God's dwelling comes with the sense that all of this is joined together in blessing. We love it not only for the Lord's own sake, who is the centre of all, but for the sake of all the saints, for our brothers and companions. This cannot be the first thing, but it is the first circle round the true centre — love to all saints.
- Ascent. The psalm's title means "going up." The climb to the feasts pictures the heart rising to God because of His grace.
- Centre. What pulls the tribes up is God's house — His presence, so that the city's future name means "the Lord is there."
- Unity. At that centre the old split between Ephraim and Judah ends. The whole nation flows together.
- Testimony. The gathered tribes are the witness. Read as "a testimony to Israel," the sight itself preaches to the nation.
- Thanks. The journey ends in one purpose: thanks to the name of the LORD. Writers tie the scene to the earthly Jerusalem still ahead, not the heavenly one.
For there are set thrones for judgment, the thrones of the house of David.
Psalm 122 is a pilgrim's song about arriving at Jerusalem. Verse 5 gives one reason the city mattered so much: it held the seat of government as well as God's house. So why does it say "thrones" in the plural? Whose thrones are they? And is this a past glory or one still to come?
The pilgrim's joy rests on a city with two roles: worship and government. Both had long since collapsed.
This had been the glory of Jerusalem: the centre for worship and the centre of government. How could they ever forget what she had once been? But what ups and downs her history had seen! The house of the Lord, which he turned to with joy, had been destroyed for ages, and its site defiled by another use. The city too had for centuries stopped being the centre of government. But now their hopes revive, and, with the Lord as their keeper, they can look for peace.
The thrones carry a family name. That name points to the One who inherits every royal right of David's house.
Jerusalem will not only be the centre of the people's worship. It will also be the place from which the king administers justice: "There thrones for judgment were set, the thrones of the house of David." The Messiah is not only the promised Seed of Abraham. He is also, as born into the world, the Son of David — indeed, both the root and the offspring of David, David's Son and David's Lord. So the running of the kingdom will be His, as the rightful Heir to all the royal rights of David's house.
The plural is deliberate, and commentators differ over who fills the extra seats. One reading keeps them on earth: rulers of David's line serving under the supreme King. (This writer's translation reads "thrones for the house of David.")
Christ has His place here, as we know, though we must go to other scriptures to learn that it is so. "Thrones," in the plural, and "for the house of David," seem to point to the deputy rule of the purely human "prince" of that line, whom Ezekiel introduces us to. It cannot possibly speak of the reign of the heavenly saints with Christ, though some would connect it with that.
Others hear an echo of the promise Jesus made to His twelve disciples. They allow both a heavenly and an earthly fulfilment.
The throne above all is that of the Son of Man. Yet He Himself tells His disciples, "Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel" (Matt. 19:28). No doubt these twelve thrones will be in heaven, where believers reign with Christ. But there will also be thrones in Jerusalem. There some who have proved trustworthy will take the place of judging for God.
The verse names why the thrones are there, and that purpose reaches people living now.
The thrones are "for judgment" — not mere royal display. Righteousness is to be maintained on the earth. And men are told now to welcome this new rule and to submit to it.
The courts of David's house stopped sitting in Jerusalem long ago. So this verse looks ahead.
Verse 5 records the royal pre-eminence of Jerusalem. The seat of judgment is there. The King of righteousness and King of peace will hold His court of earthly dominion in the place that once witnessed His shame. There is more than one throne there. For there are chosen associates in that judgment, for whom special grace has set apart that seat. Nothing could be clearer. The language of this Psalm is prophecy of the plainest kind about the future restoration of the kingdom to Israel.
Read this way, the verse sits inside a settled order: the tribes gather, praise rises, and government is exercised from the same city.
Psalm 122 celebrates Jerusalem. The saint is glad to go there. The tribes go there; the thrones of judgment, of the house of David, are there. His brothers and companions and the house of Jehovah, the God of Israel, their God, made his heart cling to it.
- There — one word ties it all to one city. Jerusalem was the centre for worship and the centre of government.
- Thrones — the plural points to more than one seat of rule. Commentators differ: some see only rulers of David's line, others also hear the twelve thrones promised to the disciples.
- David's house — the right to govern is inherited, and it lands on the Messiah, who is both David's Son and David's Lord.
- For judgment — these seats exist to keep righteousness on earth, and men are told now to welcome that rule.
- Still ahead — no court of David's house has sat in Jerusalem for ages. So the verse reads as plain prophecy: the kingdom restored, in the city that once saw His shame.
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem they shall prosper that love thee.
Psalm 122 is a pilgrim's song, sung at the gates of the city where Israel's tribes gathered to worship. At the height of that joy the song turns into a prayer, and older translations attach a promise to it: "they shall prosper that love thee."
The city's name means peace. Its story has run the other way.
The meaning of the name is not certain. Some give it as "the foundation of peace," others as "the possession of peace." Its history, sadly, has been anything but peace. But Haggai 2:9 is still to be fulfilled: "in this place I will give peace." That surely points back to the meaning of "Jerusalem."
The psalm has just described the city as God intends it. Verse 6 turns to the city as it stands now.
In God's purpose Jerusalem is the centre of praise and blessing. Against that, the godly man thinks of the city as it now is: ruined, a centre of strife and sorrow through long ages. If the view of the city in its coming glory leads to praise, the view of the city in its ruin calls for prayer. So the psalmist can say, "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem," and with it comes the assurance that those who love Jerusalem will prosper. To think with God about His people, to feel their sorrows, and pray for their peace, is the way to spiritual prosperity.
The prayer will be answered. But one writer points to what has to come first.
We do well to pray now for "the peace of Jerusalem," and one day that prayer will be fully answered. Here the psalm prays that those who love Jerusalem may prosper. Yet that peace cannot come to them until they at last receive "the Prince of Peace," the Lord Jesus.
The previous verse named thrones set for judgment. Those thrones explain why one city's welfare matters to everyone.
The thrones are "for judgment" — not mere royal display. Righteousness has to be upheld on the earth, and men are called now to welcome this new rule and to obey it. God said to Abraham, "I will bless those who bless you." So it is here: those who love you shall prosper. To love righteousness is to be righteous. Here is a kingdom of righteousness where everyone who suffers from wrong and everyone who hates wrong may rejoice together. The peace of Jerusalem means the welfare of men and the blessing of God.
One writer draws out what this asks of the person praying.
He was not satisfied with things as they were. He was glad to be in the city, and he wants her welfare. Anyone who would prosper must want it too. Blessing for everyone on earth is bound up with the prosperity of Jerusalem.
The second half of the verse is not payment for a duty done. It grows out of love shared with Christ.
Blessing is also promised to those who pray this way: "Those who love you shall prosper." Communion with the heart of Christ is the sure pathway of blessing. Christ loved, and loves the Church, and the saint to whom the Church is also dear will spiritually prosper. The prosperity promised here will match the position of the earthly people. But the Christian is in fellowship with our blessed Lord about His people, and for him it will mean spiritual progress and blessing.
Commentators differ on how far this promise can be carried from Israel over to Christian ground. One writer sets a firm limit.
Scripture never makes prosperity depend on men loving the heavenly Jerusalem. What is preached in the world is Christ, not that city. There is a sense in which we may apply a Psalm like this to heavenly things. But there is a safer and far better way. Trace the riches of our portion in Christ along the sure lines of blessedness the Spirit of revelation has already drawn. Do not go hunting for the ornaments of the Lamb's heavenly bride in Scriptures plainly meant for the Jews. God is jealous for His own name.
- Name — Jerusalem means the foundation, or possession, of peace. Its history has been the opposite, and the prayer asks God to make the city match its name.
- Ruin — the sight of the city in glory produces praise; the sight of the city in ruin produces prayer. Verse 6 is what love does with a wreck.
- Person — the peace cannot come until Jerusalem receives the Prince of Peace, the Lord Jesus.
- Reach — this is no local concern. Blessing for the whole earth is bound up with Jerusalem's prosperity, and the promise echoes God's word to Abraham.
- Return — those who love her prosper. Loving what God loves is itself the pathway of blessing, and thinking with God about His people is the way to spiritual prosperity.
Peace be within thy bulwarks, prosperity within thy palaces.
The prayer of verse 6 now becomes a blessing spoken over the city itself — over its walls and its royal houses. It asks for two things: peace, and what older translations call prosperity within her palaces.
The two halves of the verse name two different parts of the city. One rendering of the psalm brings out the military sense of the first word:
Pray for Jerusalem's peace: may they prosper that love you. Peace be within your bulwark, prosperity within your palaces.
The palaces are not simply grand buildings; they are where the city is governed from. And one writer ties the whole request to a condition that has not yet been met:
We might well now "pray for the peace of Jerusalem" (v. 6), and that prayer will get its full answer then. Here the psalm prays for those who love Jerusalem, that they may prosper. Yet that peace cannot come to them until they finally receive "the Prince of Peace," the Lord Jesus. When they do, peace will certainly be within their walls (v. 7). Prosperity will be within their palaces — the dwellings from which rulers maintain their authority.
The two requests belong together. One writer applies that link to the people of God at large:
Verses 7-9 give the response to the call for prayer. At once the desire for the peace and prosperity of the city awakens. The soul taught by God links prosperity with peace. Divisions and quarrels among the people of God have always been a source of spiritual poverty and scattering. When the breaches heal and peace returns, prosperity is sure.
Why should anyone care about the peace of these particular walls? The psalm's closing line gives the answer:
First there is the desire that there may be peace within the walls of Jerusalem and prosperity within her palaces. The last verse (9) shows the ground of this desire: "the house of the Lord our God." Jerusalem will get all its importance not so much from being the chosen city of Messiah's kingdom, but from holding God's dwelling-place... So the devoted heart will want the whole city to share in the blessing of God dwelling there. It will want the city fit for its divine Inhabitant. The enjoyment of the presence of Him who will dwell in Zion will secure the peace and prosperity desired.
The one praying stands inside the city and still asks for more for it:
He was not satisfied with things as they were. Glad to be in the city, he desires her welfare. Those who would prosper must desire it too. Blessing for everyone on earth is bound up with the prosperity of Jerusalem. That city was so dear to the saints of old, and it will still be dear to the saints in Israel, because it is connected with God's house on earth.
Verse 6 promised prosperity to those who love the city. One writer traces where such prayer comes from, and what it does for the one who prays:
If the view of the city in its coming glory leads to praise, the view of the city in its ruin calls for prayer. So the psalmist can say, "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem," together with the assurance that those who love Jerusalem will prosper. To think with God about His people, to feel their sorrows, and to pray for their peace, is the way to spiritual prosperity.
Even this, however, is not the end of the line. The peace asked for here points somewhere higher:
The peace of Jerusalem means the welfare of men and the blessing of God... And yet this is only the type and shadow of better things above.
- Cause — This peace cannot come until Jerusalem receives the Prince of Peace. Until then the prayer waits.
- Gift — The city's real value is not its royal status. It is God's dwelling there, and His presence secures the peace and prosperity asked for.
- Pairing — Peace and prosperity go together. Quarrels among God's people bring spiritual poverty; healed breaches bring blessing.
- Reach — The one praying is already inside the walls, and still not satisfied. Blessing for everyone on earth is bound up with this city's welfare.
- Result — This prayer prospers the one who prays it. And the peace of these walls is only a shadow of better things above.
For my brethren and companions' sakes I will say, Peace be within thee!
The call to pray for Jerusalem's peace now turns into a spoken blessing, and the speaker gives his reason: other people. Two questions follow — whose voice is this, and why does love for one place open the heart so wide?
The call to pray in verse 6 grows out of a gap between what Jerusalem is meant to be and what it has become. One writer sets the two views of the city side by side.
The godly man sees Jerusalem as God purposed it — the centre of praise and blessing. Then he thinks of the city as it now is: ruined, a centre of strife and sorrow through long ages. If the view of the city in its coming glory leads to praise, the view of the city in its ruin calls for prayer... To think with God about His people, to feel their sorrows, and pray for their peace, is the way to spiritual prosperity.
Verses 7 to 9 are the answer to that call. But commentators differ on who is speaking. Some read the words as the prayer of a godly man. Others hear the Lord Himself speaking, and one writer points to the two names He gives the people He blesses.
The heart of the Lord, who once wept, goes out here in longing over His beloved Jerusalem. He calls for prayer for its peace, and He pronounces peace upon it. Two great motives draw it out: motives that stir His brothers, and that glorify God. He is still not ashamed to call them "brothers" and "companions." Having named them so, He brings them at once into full connection with the glory and the blessing, and says, "For the sake of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek your good." Nothing could be added to this.
Verse 9 gives the house of God as the reason, and verse 8 gives the brothers. The order matters. Love for the place where God dwells is what makes room in the heart for everyone else who loves it.
The Lord's house (that is, His presence and worship in the place of His rest) is our desire (for us, heaven). But love for that place where God dwells brings with it the sense that all this is joined together in blessing. We love it not only for the Lord's own sake, who is the centre of all, but for the sake of all the saints, for our brothers' and companions' sake. This cannot be the first thing, but it is the first circle around the true centre — love to all saints.
The same pattern shows up elsewhere in Scripture, and it explains why a heart full of God is never a narrow heart.
Nothing expands the heart of God's people like affection for the Lord and His dwelling-place. When He holds the place of honour in the heart, His own affections are reproduced in the believer and reach out to every child of God. Revelation 22 shows this. When the Lord presents Himself as the root and offspring of David, and the bright and morning star, the Spirit and the Bride say, Come. The first thought is Christ Himself, and then every saint is remembered in what follows.
Verse 7 asks for peace and prosperity together, and verse 8 asks for peace again. One commentator explains why the two always travel as a pair, and what division costs.
The soul taught by God links prosperity with peace. Divisions and quarrels among the people of God have always brought spiritual poverty and scattering. When the breaks are healed and peace comes back, prosperity is sure.
Some had given up hope of ever seeing peace. A commentator links what the city will one day receive to what a believer already has.
Some have despaired of ever having peace, because of constant strife and turmoil. This wonderful message of peace will bring them rich blessing — peace within the city, just as there is peace now in the soul of one who trusts the Lord Jesus as Savior.
- Centre. The house of God is the true centre of the heart's love, and everything else in the psalm circles around it.
- Circle. Love for the saints is not the first thing. It is the first circle drawn around that centre. A heart full of God cannot stay narrow.
- Widening. Affection for the Lord and His dwelling-place is what expands the heart to embrace every child of God.
- Cost. Division among God's people brings spiritual poverty and scattering. Heal the break, restore peace, and prosperity follows.
- Peace. The One who wept over Jerusalem is not ashamed to call His people brothers and companions. To those who had given up on peace, He speaks it.
Because of the house of Jehovah our God I will seek thy good.
The psalm ends by naming the reason behind everything it asks. The singer will seek Jerusalem's good because the house of the Lord stands there. That raises two questions. Why should a building be the reason to love a city? And who is speaking these words?
The prayers of verses 6–8 do not stand on their own. Verse 9 gives the reason under them. One writer links that reason to what makes the city matter.
First comes the desire that there may be peace within the walls of Jerusalem and prosperity within her palaces. From the last verse we learn that the ground of this desire is "the house of the Lord our God." Jerusalem will get all its importance, not so much from being the chosen city of Messiah's kingdom, as from holding God's dwelling-place… So the godly heart will desire that the whole city should share in the blessing of God's dwelling, and be in a fit state for the divine One who lives in it.
The prayer names the people first, then names the reason that ranks above them.
Then, thinking of his brothers and companions, and their blessing, the godly man prays, "Peace be within you!" Last of all, the highest motive for his prayer is the good of the house of the Lord.
One writer hears the Lord Himself in this verse — the One who wept over this city — and points to the names He gives His people.
The heart of the Lord, who once wept, goes out here in longing over His beloved Jerusalem. He calls for prayer for its peace, and He pronounces peace upon it. Two great motives draw it out, and they stir His brothers and glorify God. He is still not ashamed to call them "brothers" and "companions." Having named them so warmly, He brings them at once into full connection with the glory and blessing, and says, "For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good." Nothing could be added to this.
The good of this one city reaches far past its own people.
He is glad to be in the city, and he wants her welfare. Those who would prosper must want it too. Blessing for everyone on earth is tied to the prosperity of Jerusalem. That city was so dear to the saints of old, and it will be just as dear to the saints in Israel, because it is connected with God's house on earth.
One writer reads the verse as prophecy about Israel's future:
When God's house is set up in Jerusalem, this is the very reason the restored remnant of Israel will know and enjoy His goodness.
One man shows what this motive looks like in action.
The last verse simply reminds us, with emphasis, of the energetic motive for seeking the good of Jerusalem; it is "because of the house of the Lord our God." Nehemiah is a striking illustration of this spirit. He heard of the trouble and disgrace of the remnant of the people. He heard that the wall of Jerusalem lay broken down and her gates burned with fire. So he wept, mourned, fasted, and prayed. From then on, as the Spirit led him, he set his heart on the good of Jerusalem because of the house of the Lord his God.
The same motive carries over to today. God's house is no longer a building of stone.
It is important to have a real concern about the house of God. The house of God today is "the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth" (1 Tim. 3:15). Do we love those principles that deal with the gathering of God's people? Or are we so taken up with our own things that the gathering of the Lord's people comes second, third, fourth, fifth, or even last?
- Dwelling — Jerusalem's worth comes from holding God's dwelling-place. That counts for more than its place as Messiah's chosen city.
- Motive — the house of the Lord is the ground of every prayer in the psalm: peace for the walls, peace for the people, good for the city.
- Order — the psalm prays for brothers and companions first. It names the good of God's house last, because that reason ranks highest.
- Speaker — one writer hears the Lord who wept over Jerusalem say "our God." He is not ashamed to call His people brothers and companions.
- Today — Nehemiah wept and prayed for a broken city because God's house stood there. The same energy now belongs to the church, the house of God.
(A Song of degrees.) Unto thee do I lift up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens.
The psalm opens with a single upward glance from someone hemmed in by scorn on every side. Its strength lies in where the eyes go — and in the One they find, enthroned above every circumstance on earth.
Lifting the eyes is one of Scripture's plainest pictures of dependence. It also answers a question raised two psalms earlier: where does my help come from?
This first verse shows their attitude of dependence. How much in the Scriptures is tied to lifting up the eyes or the hands to heaven! The Old Testament is full of instruction on this point. We read of the blessed Lord Himself lifting up His eyes to heaven as He poured out His heart's desires in John 17. (See also John 11:41.) This action proclaims that God Himself is the confidence and help of those who wait on Him. He is their only resource, and there is no help anywhere else. Blessed is the soul that has learned this lesson. The last clause of verse 1 of Psalm 121 may be rendered, "From where shall my help come?" The next verse gives the answer. In keeping with this, the psalm before us begins with this posture of expectation from Him who dwells in the heavens.
The address matters. The singer does not call on God as settled in His city on earth, but as the One who dwells above it.
This first psalm, like the first psalm of the group before it, gives only the distress, which has not yet gone as far as it will go. Jehovah is the one resource — and He is seen as dwelling in the heavens, not in Zion. But these eyes that turn to heaven are servants' eyes: the spirit of obedience is in their hearts, and along with this the conscious need of grace. Here the trial is the pride of man; before, it was his deceitfulness and spirit of strife.
Why look up at all? The evil pressing on the singer cannot reach where God dwells.
The psalm looks at Jehovah as dwelling out of the reach of the circumstances where the evil really was. Then, beyond the reach of circumstances, the believer could direct his heart. There was the ground of patient faith… Patience, submission, the awareness of no merit, yet the confidence of mercy — this characterised this waiting people.
The psalm rises out of scorn. One writer traces where that scorn comes from.
With the blessedness of the house of the Lord and the city of Jerusalem filling the soul (Ps. 122), the godly decide to face the pilgrim journey that leads to the city of God. But such a decision by a small and feeble remnant calls out the contempt and scorn of the ease-loving and proud men of the world. The same decision of faith will lead to the same results in this Christian day. The believer who enters into the blessedness of the house of God, and the heavenly calling, will gladly take up the pilgrim path. He will then find that those who have their portion in this life despise him.
One writer sees Jesus Himself living out this verse.
The Lord took up the five loaves and the two fish. In front of the whole crowd He raised His eyes to heaven. He did the same when He healed the deaf and mute man (Mark 7:34), and when He came to the grave of Lazarus (John 11:41). This was an attitude of prayer and heavenly communion (John 17:1)… By this act the Perfect Servant sets an example before all. He acknowledges His dependence on the One who sent Him, and in effect takes up the language of the psalmist.
The verse also trains us how to pray. One writer ties wandering thoughts to wandering eyes, and both to what we love.
If you want to keep your mind fixed in prayer, keep your eye fixed… Much emptiness comes in at the eye. When the eye wanders in prayer, the heart wanders. Love is a great fixer of the thoughts. Someone in love cannot keep his thoughts off the one he loves… If we loved God more, our minds would be more intent on Him in prayer. If you let your thoughts run empty outside of prayer, they will hardly be different in prayer.
- Look up. The lifted eye says that God alone is the help, and the singer looks nowhere else.
- Look high. The prayer goes to God enthroned in heaven, not to Zion — the one resource while the distress runs its course.
- Look safe. Evil works below where He sits. That distance is the ground of patient faith.
- Look like Him. Christ raised His eyes to heaven in dependence. As the Perfect Servant He took up the psalmist's own words.
- Look steadily. When the eye wanders, the heart wanders. Loving God more holds the gaze steady in prayer.
Behold, as the eyes of servants [look] unto the hand of their masters, as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress, so our eyes [are directed] to Jehovah our God, until he be gracious unto us.
This song belongs to people under scorn. They have no help on earth, so they lift their eyes to the God who dwells in heaven, and verse 2 pictures their waiting as a servant watching the master's hand for the smallest signal.
The comparison comes from service. A movement of the hand is enough to give an order. One writer reads the verse as faith that has given up its own will and refuses every other rescue.
Verse 2 sets out how complete and how intense the expectation of faith is. It is beautiful beyond words. It tells of unshaken confidence and of the perseverance of faith. These godly souls fix their eyes on the Lord their God, just as servants watch their masters for the sign of their will in the motion of their hand. This is to have no will of your own in God's presence, and so to be completely at His disposal. They suffer scorn and insult, yet they will not grow impatient, and they will not hit back. They will not look to any human source for relief from their trouble. They will quietly wait on until the Lord, in the compassion of His heart, steps in for them... Many of us lift up our eyes to Him in our distress, but we fail to wait on until the help comes. We pray and tell out our griefs, but this unconquerable perseverance of faith is often missing.
Watching is not passive. It is the only way to get direction. One commentator ties this attitude to two things at once: knowing our own weakness, and knowing His care.
This watching is the product of two things together: the sense of our weakness, and His wise and holy guardianship and guidance. And how, apart from this attitude, can we be guided by His eye?
The verse ends with a plea, not a demand. It holds two things together: no claim of deserving, and full assurance that God will answer.
They wait on the LORD their God, who is in the heavens, like a servant or a maid watching her master and mistress. They are helpless. They have nothing of their own to do until they get their master's word, until He has mercy on them. Patience, submission, the sense that they deserve nothing, and yet the confidence of mercy — this marked out this waiting people. So their sorrow and the contempt they suffered became a reason for mercy — a plea. That is what is in their mouth, and that is always so when the heart is in this state.
One writer describes the situation behind the song, and names the pressure that lifts their eyes.
There was need to seek the city's peace, as Psalm 123 shows. The godly could reach Jerusalem, but the ungodly were still in the land, and they still longed to see the Lord's presence shown in His house. So they turn to God — but to God as dwelling in heaven, not as sitting between the cherubim. They wait for Him, and watch His movements... And there will be plenty of reason for them to wait like this. Their soul will be filled to the brim with the scorn of those who are at ease, and with the contempt of the proud.
One writer finds the same upward look in Jesus Himself.
In front of the whole crowd He raised His eyes to heaven. By this act the Perfect Servant sets an example to all. He acknowledges His dependence on the One who sent Him, and in effect takes up the words of the Psalmist: "To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens. Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master... so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us."
The verse describes a home. Where the head of a house is himself looking upward, the servants' looking is transformed.
It is clear that the master and mistress of such a household wait on the Lord their God. So the servants look with willing eyes to the hand of their masters, and the maids to the hand of their mistress. This is not the trembling, fearful look of slaves under the iron yoke of a strong-minded and strong-willed master. They serve gladly and with goodwill. Even those in the house who do not believe cannot help seeing, and must admit, that their master and mistress give their orders only in obedience to a higher Master.
- Look. The eye lifted to heaven says God alone is the resource. There is no help anywhere else.
- Watch. A servant reads the master's hand. Without that fixed attention, His eye cannot guide us.
- Yield. To watch like this is to have no will of your own before God — no impatience, no hitting back, no looking to people for rescue.
- Wait. "Until He has mercy" holds two things together. They deserve nothing, yet they are sure mercy will come. The contempt they suffer becomes their plea.
- Learn. Many lift their eyes in trouble but fail to wait until help comes. This verse teaches the perseverance of faith — and the Perfect Servant Himself took the same upward look.
Be gracious unto us, O Jehovah, be gracious unto us; for we are exceedingly filled with contempt.
Psalm 123 is the prayer of people who have nothing to offer but their need. They have lifted their eyes to God in heaven, and now their looking turns into a plea. Two questions follow. Why does the prayer ask twice for the same thing? And what is this contempt they have had more than enough of?
The prayer is short, and it repeats itself. Each of those two features says something different about the people praying.
The repetition of the cry — "Have mercy upon us" — shows how intense their sorrow is. Its shortness shows how much they trust the One they are speaking to. They know His eye is on them. They know He sees their need, and the circumstances they are passing through that are causing their suffering.
No long explanation is needed when the listener already knows everything. Saying it twice is the pressure of feeling, not a lack of trust.
Notice what the prayer does not say. It claims nothing they have earned — only mercy, and the fact that they are despised. That combination is what marked this waiting people.
Patience, submission, the sense that they deserved nothing, yet confidence in mercy — this is what marked this waiting people. Their sorrow, and the fact that they were despised, became an occasion for mercy — a plea. That is what they say, and it is always so when the heart is in this state. So they have to wait, pleading with this confidence in mercy. They have nothing else to say, but this plea is strong in the mercy and lovingkindness of Jehovah.
The very thing that crushes them becomes the argument they bring to God.
The verse says they have had more than enough of contempt. Older translations read "exceedingly filled with contempt" — the wording the commentators use. Verse 4 repeats the complaint and adds a second word, scorn. The two words describe hostility from two sides.
In the closing verses the godly man prays. He appeals to the Lord for the grace he needs, and he spreads out the grief that fills his soul. Grace lets the soul look to the Lord with quiet patience. Still, he feels the reproach of the world deeply. Twice the godly man speaks of being "exceedingly filled" with the contempt and scorn of the world. The contempt speaks of their attitude towards God's people; the scorn, of their open derision.
Contempt is the inward attitude; scorn is that attitude spoken out loud. Patience does not stop the pain. The psalm says the reproach cuts deep.
Commentators read the psalm as the voice of Israel at a particular moment: back in their land, but not yet free of those who oppress them. The prayer belongs to the gap between homecoming and rescue.
Many parts of these Psalms make it clear that Israel is seen as back in the land, after being scattered, but still not finally delivered from the power of their oppressors.
Dennett names the two groups behind the trouble.
Two groups are named as the cause of their trouble — those who are at ease, and the proud. These are the moral traits that always mark out the enemies of God's people.
Their comfort and their arrogance go together.
The mockery comes from people who pay no price for it. That is why it will not last.
Their souls will be so filled with scorn that it almost overwhelms them. That scorn comes from people who suffer nothing, because they do not stand for the truth of God. But this is only the present ease and contempt of proud men. It will not continue.
Darby draws the same waiting into the present, for anyone who feels the pressure of evil now.
Hearts set on God wait for deliverance. So do we. The presence of the power of evil puts pressure on the heart. We keep waiting on God for the coming of the blessed Lord to remove it all. The contempt of the proud will stop. Everything will be completely changed, and the soul will rest.
- Filled — They have had more than enough of contempt, and the psalm does not pretend otherwise. A patient soul still feels the reproach deeply.
- Doubled — Saying it twice shows how sharp the pain is; saying it briefly shows how sure they are of the One listening. He already knows the circumstances.
- Empty-handed — They claim no merit. Patience, submission, no sense of deserving, yet confidence in mercy — that is their whole case.
- Turned into a plea — Their sorrow and the contempt they suffer become the argument itself. What overwhelms them is what they hand to God.
- Temporary — The scorn comes from those at ease, who suffer nothing because they do not stand for the truth of God. Their ease will not continue; the contempt of the proud will cease.
Our soul is exceedingly filled with the scorning of those that are at ease, with the contempt of the proud.
The last line of this short song names what is crushing the singers. Comfortable, proud people are mocking them. Two questions follow. Why does ridicule hurt so much, and what does a believer do with a sorrow he cannot stop?
The verse names two wounds, not one wound twice. Where the ESV reads "more than enough," older translations read "exceedingly filled" — the wording in the quotes below. One writer sorts the wounds by where they sit: inside the mocker, and out in the open.
In the closing verses the godly man prays. He asks the Lord for the grace he needs, and he spreads out the grief that fills his soul. Grace lets the soul look to the Lord with quiet patience. Still, he feels the reproach of the world deeply. Twice the godly man speaks of being "exceedingly filled" with the contempt and scorn of the world. The contempt speaks of their attitude towards God's people; the scorn, of their open mockery.
"Those who are at ease" are people who never suffer. They pay nothing for the truth of God, and that leaves them free to laugh at those who do.
The scorn will fill their souls until it almost overwhelms them. It comes from people who do not suffer, because they do not stand for the truth of God.
Another writer weighs both words, then points to Someone who had already met both.
The first is used "especially of those who mock people in distress," and so treat them with every kind of insult and shame. The second means "to despise openly," and so to pile abuse and scorn on those treated this way. The words "exceedingly filled," repeated twice, show that these things were measured out to the full. ... But there was comfort here, even if they grasped it only weakly. The One they turned to in the hour of their trial had met the same treatment from His enemies when He passed through this world. He, therefore, not only heard their cry, but He also knew their sorrows.
One writer pictures the scene. Exiles set out from Babylon, and the comfortable people stayed behind and sneered.
The words fit the captives just as they were setting out on their long, dreary journey. Those who were "at ease" in Babylon were reproaching and despising them at that very moment. The "proud" ones there would have eyed them as a company of poor pilgrims, an easy target for their mockery. They endure the same scorn now, scattered among the nations. The finger is still pointed.
The psalm never answers the mockers. It turns the humiliation upward and makes it a reason for God to act.
So their sorrow, and the contempt they suffered, became a reason for mercy — a plea. That is how they use it, and that is always how it is with a heart in this state. They plead it, and it pleads strongly for mercy, and they still have to wait. They have nothing else to say, but this is strong on the mercy and loving-kindness of the Lord.
For those who follow Christ, contempt means something else entirely — as long as they bear it for Him.
For Christians to be exceedingly filled with contempt is their very highest honour and chief joy, as long as the reproach they bear is their Master's (Acts 5:41; 1 Peter 4:14). God has called them by His grace to drink a portion of their Master's cup (Phil. 1:29; Rom. 8:36).
The pressure of evil is real now. But the contempt of the proud has an end, and the psalm looks toward it.
Psalm 123. Hearts set on God wait for deliverance. So do we. There is pressure on the heart by the presence of the power of evil. We wait continually upon God for the coming of the blessed Lord to remove it all. The contempt of the proud will cease. Everything will be completely changed, and the soul will rest.
- Filled — twice the psalm says the soul has had "more than enough." The abuse was measured out to the full: hidden contempt for God's people, and open ridicule.
- Filled by whom — by proud people at ease, who never suffer because they never stand for the truth of God.
- Filled, and understood — the One they cry to met the same mockery. He hears the cry, and He knows the sorrow.
- Filled, so pleading — they never answer the mockers back. They turn the shame into their plea, and rest it on God's mercy alone.
- Filled, and honoured — contempt borne for Christ's sake is a believer's highest honour, and it ends when He comes.
(A Song of degrees. Of David.) If it had not been Jehovah who was for us -- oh let Israel say --
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
If it had not been Jehovah who was for us, when men rose up against us,
Psalm 124 is a song of thanksgiving, and verse 2 repeats the "if" of verse 1 while naming the danger: people rose up. Commentators read that "if" both as a look back at real danger and as a song for a rescue still to come.
after-note: DELETE
This psalm answers the prayer of the one before. What stands out is where the rescued people place the credit.
Moving on to the next Psalm, you notice at once that it records the deliverance prayed for in the one before. The mercy they asked for there has been given. Israel now, with hearts overflowing with gratitude, celebrates how their Deliverer stepped in. It is very beautiful to notice how they credit their salvation from the hands of their foes to the Lord alone.
That single word "if" carries the argument. One writer puts the deciding factor plainly:
This psalm certainly answers the pleading of Psalm 123. For the Lord was on their side, which makes all the difference in any dispute.
The hostility here is not just scorn. It had grown past the contempt of the psalm before, and the danger was as close as it could be.
It is clear that the contempt and scorn mentioned in the previous Psalm had turned into even more violent hatred. That hatred showed itself in the effort to destroy the whole people. It says, "When men rose up against us," and "when their wrath was kindled against us." It is just as clear that Israel had been brought into great difficulty. To all human appearance their destruction was near. The word "quick," that is, living, justifies this conclusion. It is a picture of the enemy rushing with open jaws to "swallow up" Israel alive, as it were, and in an instant.
Note the reversal of strength here. The people had none; the enemy seemed to have all of it.
The godly acknowledge the Lord's intervention on their behalf. They have no power themselves, and their enemy appears all-powerful. They are like people sinking in a flood that is sweeping over them. When, to all appearance, their destruction is about to happen, they find the Lord is on their side and is working for their deliverance.
No human help was left, so no one else could share the credit. The rising up of enemies is the very thing that produced the confession.
It was well they did trust in the LORD, for, if the LORD Himself had not been on their side, in man all hope was utterly lost. Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But this was the occasion of their being able to say with certainty that the LORD Himself was for them. There was no one else, and to Him they had looked. Such is the effect of extreme and hopeless trouble — in the LORD's deliverance, the clear certainty that the LORD is for them.
Dennett draws the same pattern into ordinary experience: God often waits "until all human hopes have fled, until His people have accepted the sentence of death in themselves; and then He delights to intervene for their deliverance."
One writer reads the psalm as Israel's answer, drawn from their own history:
Has the nation not been delivered before, when it was threatened with destruction? Psalm 124 gives the answer. The LORD had been on their side when men rose up against them. He had kept them alive. Otherwise the waters of Assyria, the swelling waters, would have overwhelmed them. So the LORD, their help in time past, is their confidence still.
The psalm's lesson is a direction for the heart.
Psalm 124. God alone keeps His people. The main point all through here is to look to Him alone. And that is our part along our path, and especially in these last days. All other refuges will, in one way or another, give a wrong direction to the soul. They will lead it into a false path. They will make its state less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in walk.
One writer marks a difference between the psalmist's fight and the Christian's, yet finds the pressure of persecution the same:
A Christian's conflict, so far as it belongs to him as one who shares in the heavenly calling, is not with flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12)… On the other hand, under the actual pressure of persecution, the experience of sufferers in any age is much the same. Both suffer for the sake of truth and righteousness. The help of each is in the only faithful Creator and Deliverer of His saints.
- Threat. "When people rose up against us" marks hatred that had grown past scorn. It aimed to destroy the whole people — swallowed alive, in an instant.
- Weakness. They had no power and the enemy looked all-powerful. That is where they found the Lord working for them.
- Certainty. No other help remained, so hopeless trouble became the proof that the Lord Himself was for them.
- Credit. The rescued people trace their salvation to the Lord alone, and the "if" of verse 2 is how they say it.
- Direction. God alone keeps His people. The lasting lesson is to look to Him alone, because every other refuge bends the soul the wrong way.
Then they had swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us;
Psalm 124 looks back on a rescue. Verse 3 finishes the sentence begun two verses earlier: it says what would have happened if the Lord had not been on Israel's side.
The verse is the second half of a thought. One fact holds it up, and the rest is what that fact prevented.
This psalm certainly answers the pleading of Psalm 123. For the Lord was on their side, which makes all the difference in any dispute. If that had not been so, they would have been swallowed up alive. The threats of God's enemy are very real, and in their anger they will show no mercy.
Older translations read "swallowed us up quick." There, "quick" does not mean fast. It means living.
It is just as clear that Israel had been brought into great trouble. To all human appearance their destruction was close. The word "quick" — that is, living — supports this conclusion. As we understand it, it is a picture of the enemy rushing with open jaws to "swallow up" Israel alive, and in an instant.
The anger in this verse belongs to people. One writer sees another power behind their rage.
It was from the wrath of man that they had been delivered. Men had oppressed them. Their conflict had been with flesh and blood, though Satan's power had stirred up and directed the rage of the oppressor. But the Name they trusted in was what really delivered them.
Notice when the deliverance came. Not before the danger, but at the point where nothing human was left.
"Men rose up against us," they say, and "their wrath was kindled against us," and we were about to be "overwhelmed." Then it was — in their extremity — that they found the Lord was on their side.
This is presented as God's usual way of working, not an accident of timing:
How often the Lord waits like this! He waits until every human hope has gone, until His people have accepted the sentence of death in themselves. Then He delights to step in and deliver them, so that they may learn this: when refuge fails them, He is their refuge and their portion in the land of the living.
They were left with no one else to look to. Notice what that produced.
It was good that they trusted in Jehovah. If Jehovah Himself had not been on their side, all hope in man was completely lost. Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But that was the very thing that let them say with certainty: Jehovah Himself was for them. There was no one else, and to Him they had looked. This is what extreme and hopeless trouble does: in Jehovah's deliverance comes the clear certainty that Jehovah is for them.
If the Lord alone stood between His people and those open jaws, looking anywhere else is worse than useless. It harms the one who tries it.
God alone keeps His people. The great point all through here is to look to Him alone. That is our part along our path, and especially in these last days. Every other refuge will, in one way or another, give the soul a wrong direction. It will lead the soul into a false path, and leave it less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in its walk.
The psalm's enemies were flesh and blood. One writer sets the Christian's fight beside theirs.
A Christian's conflict, so far as it belongs to him as one who shares the heavenly calling, is not with flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). … On the other hand, under the real pressure of persecution, the experience of those who suffer is much the same in every age. Both suffer for the sake of truth and righteousness, and the help of each is in the only faithful Creator and Deliverer of His saints.
- Cause — The whole verse hangs on one condition. The Lord was on their side, and that fact alone kept them from being swallowed alive.
- Picture — "Quick" means living; the image is an enemy rushing with open jaws to devour a whole people on the spot.
- Timing — God let them reach the point where every human hope was gone, so they would learn He is their refuge when refuge fails.
- Gift — Hopeless trouble was the very thing that gave them unshakeable certainty that the Lord was for them.
- Result — Because He alone saved them, look to Him alone. Every other refuge bends the soul in a wrong direction.
Then the waters had overwhelmed us, a torrent had gone over our soul;
Psalm 124 looks back at a moment when Israel was almost destroyed. Verse 4 paints that moment as a flood breaking over a drowning man. The whole sentence hangs on the "if" of verse 1. So what were these waters, and why did they never close over the nation's head?
Every "then" in verses 3–5 describes what did not happen. The verse shows the flood at full force, yet survivors are the ones singing.
This is the outburst of Israel's praise. They had just been delivered from what seemed, to everyone but faith, the overwhelming power of man bent on their destruction.
Describing a disaster that never happened points to the one who prevented it. Israel's own strength gets no mention.
It is very beautiful to see how they give the Lord alone the credit for saving them from their enemies.
Verse 4 doubles its picture: a flood, then a torrent. Older translations read that the torrent goes "over our soul." The words describe the people as much as the enemy — someone who cannot swim and cannot touch the bottom.
The godly see that the Lord has stepped in for them. They are powerless themselves, facing an enemy that appears all-powerful. They are like people sinking in an overwhelming flood. Their destruction looks certain, and just then they find the Lord is on their side, working to deliver them.
The rising stream is not weather. In the prophets, a flood is a standard picture for an invading army sweeping a country away.
The end, however, will be accompanied by a flood or an overflow. This is a figure well known in the prophets, and used to signify overwhelming destruction by invading hostile armies. See, for example, Isaiah 8:7-8; Isaiah 10:22; Isaiah 28:2, 15; Jeremiah 47:2; Daniel 11:22, 26.
The songs around Psalm 124 raise a question, and this psalm answers it.
Has the nation not been delivered before, when threatened with destruction? Psalm 124 gives the answer. Jehovah had been on their side when men rose up against them. He had kept them alive. Otherwise the waters of Assyria, the swelling waters, would have overwhelmed them. So Jehovah, their help in time past, is their confidence still.
Commentators differ on which power the proud waters stand for. The writer above pointed to Assyria. Another points elsewhere.
Psalm 124 — And had it not been that Jehovah was for them, they would still have been swallowed up alive. But the snare is broken, and they have escaped. The proud waters here are surely the overwhelming hosts of Gog.
Help came when the water was almost over their heads. That timing is a pattern, not an accident.
The Lord is clearly seen stepping in to help His people when they were on the very edge of destruction. The "proud waters" were flowing with what looked like unstoppable violence to overwhelm them for ever. How often the Lord waits like this until every human hope has gone, until His people have accepted the sentence of death in themselves. Then He delights to step in and deliver them. So they learn that when no refuge is left, He is their refuge and their portion in the land of the living.
The near-drowning was not wasted. Cut off from every other help, they could not mistake who saved them.
Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But that was what let them say with certainty: Jehovah Himself was for them. There was no one else, and they had looked to Him. Such is the effect of extreme and hopeless trouble — in Jehovah's deliverance, the clear certainty that Jehovah is for them.
The psalm does not end in the water.
The outcome may have seemed uncertain to those in danger, but it was not uncertain to God. He will not let the righteous be moved. So the psalm closes on a victorious note, "Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth."
- The waters rise. In the prophets, a flood pictures an invading army sweeping a land away. Commentators tie these waters to Assyria, or to the hosts of Gog.
- The waters expose. The singers are powerless and sinking, and their destruction looks certain. They claim no strength of their own.
- The waters wait. God steps in at the very edge of destruction, after every human hope has gone. Then His people learn He is their refuge when nothing else is left.
- The waters teach. Trouble with no way out made one thing certain: the Lord Himself was on their side. There was no one else.
- The waters pass. Praise and confidence are left. Israel gives the Lord alone the credit for the escape, and finds its help in the name of the Maker of heaven and earth.
Then the proud waters had gone over our soul.
Psalm 124 remembers a real rescue by picturing the disasters that never came. Verse 5 is the last and worst of them: a flood about to close over a whole nation. (The ESV calls them "the raging waters." Older translations say "the proud waters," and the writers quoted below use that wording.)
The flood is not weather. One writer links the picture to a time when the army of Assyria stood outside Jerusalem.
In Isaiah 36 and 37, Jerusalem is face to face with the Assyrian, their enemy. The proud waters that have flooded the land look ready to overwhelm them with death and destruction. This is the picture, given here by God, of the outward situation. So it will be again at Jerusalem. But "the living God" will defend and deliver the city, by the working of His mighty power.
The psalm is not only a record of the past. Israel looks back at an old escape because they need one now.
Has not the nation been delivered before, when threatened with destruction? Psalm 124 gives the answer. Jehovah had been on their side when men rose up against them. He had kept them alive. Otherwise the waters of Assyria, the swelling waters, would have overwhelmed them. So Jehovah, their help in time past, is their confidence still.
Israel could have credited their survival to many things. They credit it to one.
It is very beautiful to see how they credit their rescue from the hands of their enemies to the Lord alone.
The waters were not just a threat. They were already rising. One writer sees in that timing a pattern in how God works with His people.
Clearly the Lord is seen stepping in to help His people when they were on the very eve of destruction. The "proud waters" were flowing with a violence that seemed impossible to resist, ready to overwhelm them for ever. How often the Lord waits like this! He waits until all human hopes have fled, until His people have accepted the sentence of death in themselves. Then He delights to step in and deliver them, so that they may learn this: when every refuge fails them, He is their refuge and their portion in the land of the living.
God did not cut the trouble short. Looking back, the singers see that its very hopelessness is what settled the matter for them.
Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But this was the very thing that let them say for sure: Jehovah Himself was for them. There was no one else, and it was to Him they had looked. That is what extreme and hopeless trouble does. In Jehovah's deliverance comes the clear certainty that Jehovah is for them.
The psalm's teaching does not stop with Israel's history. It presses the soul to lean on one support and no other.
God alone keeps His people. The great point all through here is to look to Him alone. And it is our part along our path, and specially in these last days. All other refuges will give, in something or another, a wrong direction to the soul, will lead it into a false path, make its state less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in walk.
Hamilton Smith describes the people of verses 1 to 5. They had no strength at all:
The godly acknowledge that the Lord stepped in for them. They have no power themselves, and their enemy looks all-powerful. They are like people sinking in a flood that overwhelms them.
Commentators differ on which invasion the psalm has in view. Some point to Assyria in Israel's past. Others say the same scene will come again at Jerusalem. All agree on the picture: hostile power rising like water, with one God standing between it and His people.
- Waters. The flood pictures an enemy power rising to overwhelm a people with no strength of their own.
- Timing. God waits until every human hope is gone, then steps in on the very eve of destruction.
- If. Take the Lord out of the verse and only ruin is left. That is why Israel credits Him alone.
- Certainty. The hopeless trouble was the gift: with no one else to look to, they learned for sure that the Lord is for them.
- Alone. The practical point of the psalm is to look to Him only; every other refuge bends the soul in a wrong direction.
Blessed be Jehovah, who gave us not up a prey to their teeth!
Psalm 124 looks back at a rescue so narrow that Israel describes it by what almost happened. The enemy nearly swallowed them alive. Verse 6 names the danger, but ends in blessing: the teeth closed on nothing.
Israel's first move after the escape is praise. One writer treats that as the mark of a soul the Spirit is working in.
It is always a sign of the Spirit's work when a soul that has received blessing turns at once with praise to the Blesser. Too often the mercy or blessing received satisfies the soul for a moment. Our trial is over, the end is reached. Unless we stay on our guard, we often forget the hand that was stretched out over us, the hand that met our need. It was not so with Israel. It is worth noticing how they rise up with thanksgiving to the source of their deliverance. They had trusted in Him, and they were not put to shame, and they magnify His name for it.
The psalm says the enemy would have swallowed them alive. That word "alive" measures how near the end stood.
As we understand it, this pictures the enemy rushing with open jaws to "swallow up" Israel alive, and in an instant. And the Lord steps in to help His people when they were on the very edge of destruction. The "proud waters" were flowing with seemingly unstoppable violence to overwhelm them for ever. How often the Lord waits like this until all human hopes have fled, until His people have accepted the sentence of death in themselves. Then He delights to step in and deliver them. So they learn that when every refuge fails them, He is their refuge and their portion in the land of the living.
The word "prey" admits they had no defence of their own.
They bless the Lord for not leaving them as a helpless prey to their enemies. They bless Him for breaking the snares that held them in bondage. In answer to their prayers they can say, "We are escaped."
The psalm blesses one name only. Trust placed anywhere else costs the soul something:
God alone keeps His people. The great point all through here is to look to Him alone. That is our part along our path, and especially in these last days. All other refuges will, in one way or another, give a wrong direction to the soul. They lead it into a false path. They make its state less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in walk. God can make use of everything, because His motive to bless us is always in Himself, and He controls everything. But the things we have shape our hearts, and we must adapt ourselves to whatever we lean on.
The same credit runs on into the songs that follow:
It is worth seeing how these psalms give every blessing to the Lord. It is the Lord who sets the captive free (Ps. 124:6-7). The Lord is round about His people as they take their pilgrim way (Ps. 125:2). The Lord sets Zion free from the enemy (Ps. 126:1). The Lord builds the house and keeps the city (Ps. 127:1).
Commentators read the psalm as spoken by Israel about an invasion still future — the last great attack against them. Dennett identifies the attacker as Israel's final enemy; another writer applies the words to the army described in Ezekiel:
If it were simply a question between Israel and the enemy, the descendants of Jacob would now be wiped out for good. They can say, with the psalmist, that if Jehovah were not on their side, such a rising against them would swallow them up alive (Ps. 124). But Jehovah will not give His chosen as a prey to their teeth. He will turn on their enemies in righteous fury and indignation.
The verse gives a place to stand after a hard stretch. It does not say the trouble is over. It says the trouble did not finish you.
God has in His grace given a rest in the conflict. The enemy is not defeated, but we have learned how powerless we were to cope with the difficulty. We saw how the flesh tried to get into it, and how much it had to be held back. May we be humbled about it all, yet thankful to our God that He has not allowed the enemy to crush us, weak though we are (Ps. 124:6).
- Peril. An animal with open jaws, about to swallow Israel alive. Destruction was a moment away.
- Timing. God often waits until every human hope is gone, so His people learn that when all refuge fails, He is their refuge.
- Mercy. "Prey" concedes they were helpless; the praise is for what He did not allow, not for any strength of theirs.
- Source. The psalm blesses one name, because God alone keeps His people. Every other refuge turns the soul the wrong way.
- Praise. Turning straight back to the Blesser marks the Spirit's work. Forgetting the hand that helped is the danger once the trouble ends.
Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers the snare is broken, and we have escaped.
Psalm 124 looks back on a rescue that came when everything was against God's people. Verse 7 puts it in one picture: a small bird caught in a trap, then free — which raises two questions: who set the trap, and who broke it?
A fowler is a bird-catcher. In Scripture the picture goes beyond a hunter in a field.
Used as a symbol of Satan, from whose snares God delivers His saints. Ps. 91:3; Ps. 124:7; Prov. 6:5. In the punishment of Israel their prophets became as the snare of the fowler. Hosea 9:8.
A snare works only because the bird never sees it. Writing on the same picture elsewhere in the Psalms, one writer shows what makes a trap work:
Doesn't a snare stand for evil hidden under an attractive surface? The apostle Paul warns us not to be misled by enticing words (Col. 2:4). He also tells us that among people who profess to be Christians, some will be caught "in the snare of the devil" (2 Timothy 2:26)... We may think our own intelligence and knowledge of the truth will keep us out of snares and safe from false teaching. But whatever our knowledge and gifts, unless we are living in private communion with Him — abiding in Christ — there is no snare we cannot fall into.
The bird does not wriggle free. Someone else destroys the trap, and He gets the credit for the escape.
They look back upon it in communion with their God. Satan's fowlers had woven the snare all around them. But the snare was broken — broken by the strong arm they had leaned on — and they had escaped. No wonder they cried, "Blessed be the Lord."
Another writer notes the deceit behind the trap, and the pledge that outlasts it:
Deceit had been at work too, as it always will be where our enemy is involved: there was a snare, and now it is broken. But Jehovah's Name — all that He is — is engaged for them, as it is for all His people. He has pledged it to us. How peaceful our confidence should be, then, at all times!
The rescue did more than end the danger. With every human hope gone, there was no one else to thank.
Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But that was exactly what let them say with certainty: Jehovah Himself was for them. There was no one else, and they had looked to Him. This is what extreme and hopeless trouble does: in Jehovah's deliverance it gives the clear certainty that Jehovah is for them... The snare is broken, they are delivered, and now they could say from experience, "Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth."
Verse 7 looks backwards. Looking back is harder than it sounds, because relief has a way of erasing memory.
It is always a sign of the Spirit at work when a soul that has received blessing turns at once with praise to the One who blessed it. Too often the mercy or blessing we receive satisfies the soul for only a moment. Once the trial is over and the goal is reached, unless we are on our guard, we are often fooled into forgetting the hand that was stretched out over us, or that was meeting our need.
Commentators apply this beyond Israel's history. One writer traces David's rescue from King Saul and sees the same pattern in every believer's private life:
In all the experiences we may be called to pass through, will we not find the same encouragement in the plain deliverances of our gracious God? God does not let the enemy overwhelm us completely. We escape like a bird out of the trapper's snare. Some loving friend like Jonathan cheers us with sympathy and fellowship. And when everything seems at its worst, God steps in and the enemy turns away. We need not go into details, for this is the soul's private history, known only to God and the person himself.
- Snare — evil hidden under an attractive surface, set by Satan. Knowledge alone will not keep you out of it. Abiding in Christ will.
- Broken — the bird did not slip the net. The strong arm they leaned on shattered it, so God owns the escape and the praise.
- Pledged — the Name that broke this snare stands pledged to all His people. So our confidence can stay calm at all times.
- Certainty — extreme trouble strips away every other helper. The rescue that follows proves the Lord Himself is for you.
- Remembered — relief tempts us to forget the hand that saved us. Turning from the mercy to the One who gave it is the Spirit's mark.
Our help is in the name of Jehovah, the maker of heavens and earth.
The psalm ends with a settled statement about where Israel's safety lies. Behind those few words stand a broken snare and a question every believer meets: what have my troubles taught me about God?
This is a conclusion, not a starting assumption. The people can say it only after the danger has passed. The danger itself produced the certainty.
It was well they did trust in Jehovah. For if Jehovah Himself had not been on their side, all help in man was utterly lost. Men rose up against them, and the proud waters had gone over their soul. But this was what let them say with certainty that Jehovah Himself was for them. There was no one else, and to Him they had looked. This is what extreme and hopeless trouble does. In Jehovah's deliverance comes the clear certainty that Jehovah is for them.
Many people would agree with this sentence before trouble comes. But these speakers have tested it. The testing changed what the words are worth to them.
The last verse expresses not only a truth, but also their own experience, and the lesson they had learned through their sorrows. This is their blessed conclusion, now that they are redeemed from the hand of all their adversaries. They may have believed it before, at least in some measure. Now they know it. From now on they put their trust in the name of their faithful and covenant-keeping Jehovah alone.
Dennett traces the same confession forward into the New Testament, then applies it to the reader:
So the apostles, with the believers gathered with them, lifted their voices together to God and said, "Sovereign Lord, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and everything in them" (Acts 4:24, ESV). We know Him also as our God and Father, because He is the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ. But we are as happy as Israel was, once we come to the end of all human resources and learn that our help is in the name of our God alone.
The verse puts the help in a name. One writer shows how much that name holds, and to whom it is pledged.
The deliverance has already come, and it is an escape out of the most extreme peril. They know that only Jehovah could have done it. Otherwise they would have been overwhelmed, as they almost were. Deceit had been at work too, as it will be wherever our enemy is involved: there was a snare, which is now broken. Jehovah's Name — all that He is — is engaged for them, as it is for all His people. He has pledged it to us. How peaceful, then, should our confidence be at all times!
The name comes with a title: Maker of heaven and earth. One writer explains why the psalm reaches for the widest description of God there is.
The psalm deliberately brings in the universal character of Jehovah. This is the blessedness of His coming reign. Here is His all-covering Name, shown in blessing.
If help is in this name, then it is not partly somewhere else. One writer warns what happens to a soul that leans anywhere else.
God alone keeps His people. The great point all through here is to look to Him alone. And that is our part along our path, and especially in these last days. Every other refuge will, in one way or another, give the soul a wrong direction. It will lead the soul into a false path. It will make its state less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in walk. God can use everything, because His motive to bless us is always in Himself, and everything is at His disposal. We are different. Our hearts are shaped by the objects we have, and we must adapt ourselves to what we lean on.
The verse speaks in the present tense, not the past.
They have experienced the delivering mercy of the Lord. So they express their confidence in His help for all that may yet lie before them.
- Trouble teaches. Extreme and hopeless trouble was the very thing that made it certain to them that the Lord was on their side.
- Help has a name. Their confidence rests not in the escape but in the Name — all that God is — pledged to His people.
- The name is wide. He is the Maker of heaven and earth, the comprehensive title under which blessing comes.
- Help is exclusive. God alone keeps His people; every other refuge bends the soul into a false path.
- Help is present tense. What was learned in past deliverance becomes confidence for everything still to come.
(A Song of degrees.) They that confide in Jehovah are as mount Zion, which cannot be moved; it abideth for ever.
This is a short pilgrim song, sung on the way up to Jerusalem by people who had just been rescued and were still in danger. Its comfort is not a change of circumstances but a comparison with a mountain.
The song before this one celebrated a rescue. This one takes up what came next for the rescued.
Psalm 124 presents the Lord's mercy in setting the godly free from captivity, calling out their trusting confidence in the Lord. Psalm 125 presents the security of those who trust in the Lord like this as they pursue their pilgrim way to Zion. Whatever the opposition, and through all changes, those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved and therefore abides for ever.
Mount Zion is not picked at random as an image of what lasts. It carries weight because of who will reign there.
Mount Zion, the seat of Messiah's glorious throne, will endure as long as the earth remains. So it stands as a symbol of lasting steadfastness. It "cannot be moved," and it "abides forever." So it is with those whose trust is in Jehovah.
The image also says something to the eye. Clouds can hide part of a mountain, but they take nothing away from it.
There are also the obvious features of security and dignity… "Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved." It rests on a broad base on the earth and rises into the sky, crowned with heavenly light. Clouds may hide those soft green valleys in its side from us for a time, but we know they are still there. Lightning and flood beat against it in vain. "He is our everlasting strength."
The verse does not say the trusting are strong. It says they are like something strong.
Isaiah says something similar: "Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock" — or, as older translations put it in the margin, the "Rock of Ages." Those who trust in Him share the character of the foundation on which they rest. The living stones in 1 Peter 2, for example, get their character from the Living Stone they have come to. So we are reminded, and it is a blessing, that we have to consider not our weakness but the Lord's strength. We may rest in unshaken confidence on Him who cannot be moved, since He is the same yesterday, today and for ever.
Verse 2 adds a second picture and a date. One writer reads that date as running from the start of Christ's coming reign on into eternity.
The mountains surrounding Jerusalem are a symbol of the perfect protection of the people of God by His supreme power. The psalm adds "from this time forth and forevermore" (v. 2). This points to God's special care for Israel from the beginning of the millennium — not only through that thousand years, but for eternity.
Being immovable is not the same as being untouched. God may still allow trouble. But it comes from His hand, not the enemy's.
But then trusting in the Lord is perfectly sure. A divine and almighty hand secures us. We know from many passages that the Lord may see fit to let us suffer. But not a hair of our head shall perish… He may let us suffer for our God, or for His name's sake. Even then it is not according to the will and power of the wicked, but according to His own. Only this assumes someone walking in His ways.
The same writer, on the psalm just before this one, warns about the alternatives:
All other refuges will, in one way or another, give a wrong direction to the soul. They will lead it into a false path and make its state less holy in purpose, less pure and wise in walk… We are shaped in heart by the objects we have, and we must adapt ourselves to what we lean on.
- Trust — these are travellers, just rescued and still in danger. Their safety rests in the One they lean on, not in calm conditions.
- Likeness — the one who trusts takes the character of the foundation he rests on, as the living stones take theirs from the Living Stone.
- Encircling — the hills ring Jerusalem, and God rings His people. Lightning and flood beat on the mountain in vain.
- Duration — "abides forever" reaches from Christ's coming reign on into eternity. It is not just a long time.
- Walk — the promise is sure, but it assumes someone walking in His ways. Whatever we lean on shapes us, so every other refuge bends the soul the wrong way.
Jerusalem! -- mountains are round about her, and Jehovah is round about his people, from henceforth and for evermore.
The psalm turns from Mount Zion to the ring of hills around Jerusalem, a picture of God Himself surrounding those who trust Him. What safety does He promise, how long does it last, and does it belong only to Israel?
The verse works by comparison. One writer points out that an older English wording added a word here, and that dropping it strengthens the second half.
The wording of verse 2 can be changed slightly. If we leave out the first "so," which was added, and change the second one into "and," it reads: "The mountains are around Jerusalem, and the Lord is around His people from now on and forever." The meaning stays the same. But the change gives the second half its full and unlimited force. We can see the mountains around Jerusalem as her natural defence, a wall of protection. And we can see the Lord surrounding Israel with His own all-powerful care, to shield them from danger and attack. What trouble the Lord takes to assure His people of their perfect safety, once they are under His sheltering care!
Edward Dennett (the rendering discussed here follows an older English translation)
The people in this verse are not strong in themselves. They borrow their steadiness from what they lean on.
Those who trust in Him partake of the character of the foundation on which they rest, just as the living stones in 1 Peter 2 get their character from the Living Stone to which they have come. We are blessedly reminded that it is not our feebleness but the Lord's strength which we have to consider; and that we may rest in unshaken confidence on Him who cannot be moved, since He is the same yesterday, and today, and forever.
If God surrounds His people, every danger has to come from outside the circle — and it meets Him first.
The Lord surrounds His people, just as the mountains surround Jerusalem (Ps. 125). He is nearer to them than danger and war and suffering and death.
Another writer makes the same point about Israel at Gilgal. That was their first camp after they crossed the Jordan into Canaan.
God is for them: who can be against them? … So, "as the hills surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people." To reach them, their enemies must strike through Him!
The verse names a starting point, then never names an end. One writer marks where that clock starts and how far it runs.
The verse here stresses the absolute certainty of lasting blessing for the Israel of God. Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion — steadfast, unmovable, abiding forever. The mountains around Jerusalem are a symbol: God protects His people perfectly by His supreme power. It adds "from this time forth and forevermore" (v. 2). This points to God's special care for Israel from the beginning of the millennium. That care lasts not only through those thousand years, but on for eternity.
The encircling hills are one form of God's care, fitted to one need. He is not limited to it.
On this Psalm we may say this: the thoughts of the Spirit in the prophets show the Lord's varied provision for His people in a striking way! He will plant mountains around Zion when she wants security. He will spread a plain around her when she wants to bask in the light of glory. (See verse 2, and Zech. 14:10)
Israel's protection here was physical and national. One writer contrasts it with what belongs to the believer now.
Its first feature is security from evil, freedom from what everyone else faces. "As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds His people, from this time forth and forevermore." … For us it is a far more blessed thing. Deliverance for the body, on earth, in this life — that was the mark of Israel, the people the Lord kept safe. But our salvation is marked by eternal security. It is spiritual, not physical, and it reaches to our very hearts and minds. So the apostle says, "The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard (or garrison) your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
- Surrounded — the picture. The hills ringing Jerusalem are her natural wall. God surrounds His people the same way, with His own all-powerful care.
- Surrounded — the ground. The steadiness belongs to the One trusted, not to the one trusting. Those who lean on Him take their character from that foundation.
- Surrounded — the position. He stands between His people and every threat. To reach them, their enemies must strike through Him.
- Surrounded — the duration. "From this time forth and forevermore" starts at the beginning of the millennium, runs through those thousand years, and goes on into eternity.
- Surrounded — the reach. Israel's circle was physical and national. For the believer it becomes eternal security, with the peace of God guarding heart and mind.
For the sceptre of wickedness shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous; lest the righteous put forth their hands unto iniquity.
Psalm 125 looks at the hills around Jerusalem and sees a picture of God surrounding His people. Verse 3 gives the reason for that guard: God shields His people so that evil rule can never press them into evil themselves.
One writer explains the two key words, then says what the promise rules out:
By "rod" we understand "sceptre" or "rule," and by "lot" we understand "portion" or inheritance. So the meaning is simply this: the righteous will never again come under the rule of the wicked. Israel came under it often in past ages, because of their sin.
The writers quoted here use an older translation. It reads "the rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous," where the ESV reads "the scepter of wickedness shall not rest on the land allotted to the righteous."
The promise has a purpose. Freedom from that rule takes away a temptation:
Once their inheritance is free from the sceptre of the wicked, the righteous will feel no pull to make a sinful alliance with the wicked, and so give up their confidence in the Lord.
Another writer names the danger. Evil that is winning looks attractive:
And this in holiness. He would not let the rod of wickedness rest on the lot of the righteous. Their weakness might give way before evil that was doing so well, and they might follow the path of its success.
The same writer points to the force of the promise, and to the care behind it:
And notice how absolute the statement is: "The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous." Then notice the tenderness of Jehovah's care. He longs that His people should never again reach out their hands to iniquity. A holy God loves a holy people, and must have one. He will guard them on every side to secure what He wants for them.
The word "rest" is precise. God may use the wicked, but He sets limits on how long:
Their rescue from Babylon has taught them this: the Lord may for a time use the wicked as a rod of anger on His people, but He will not let that rod rest or stay on them. He deals with His rod in measure. He sets how long it lasts as well as how hard it falls, and in His grace He remembers that the spirit might fail under an oppression that lasts too long.
One writer applies the verse to believers now. Suffering is not ruled out, but the control of the wicked over it is:
We know, from many passages, the Lord may see good to let us suffer, but not a hair of our head shall perish. When His time is come, the rod of the wicked shall not be on the lot of the righteous. He may let us suffer for our God, or for His name's sake. Even then it is not by the will and power of the wicked, but by His own. And this assumes someone who is walking in His ways.
That last condition matters. One writer describes people who gave up every defence except God's word:
But as soon as they came to feel that they had no defence except the word of God and a good conscience before Him, deliverance came... But it is always dangerous to give up the principles of God's word, and to let the rules and policy of this world govern our ways.
One writer reads verse 3 as a line drawn inside Israel, not only around it. It marks off the faithful few:
It was judgment: "the rod of the wicked" (and those who came against them) "should not rest on the lot of the righteous." There was no mixing, and this applied to the wicked among Israel as well. The difference was not only between Israel and the nations. It was a difference in the deliverance of the righteous Remnant.
- Rod. "Rod" means sceptre or rule. "Lot" means portion or inheritance. The wicked will never again rule the land God gave the righteous.
- Reason. God removes that rule for a purpose. Free of it, His people feel no pull to ally with the wicked and give up their confidence in Him.
- Weakness. Evil that prospers looks attractive, and weak people can follow the path of its success.
- Measure. The rod may fall for a time. God sets how long it lasts and how hard it falls, because the spirit might fail under a long oppression.
- Condition. God may still let us suffer. But the wicked never set the terms; He does. And this assumes a walk in His ways.
Do good, O Jehovah, unto the good, and to them that are upright in their hearts.
Psalm 125 turns from settled security to prayer. That prayer raises a hard question: who counts as "good"? And how does asking God to reward character fit with the free favour He shows His people?
The petition is not a leap in the dark. It rests on a settled principle, stated more fully in another psalm, and one writer draws a careful line between two ways God deals with His people:
This verse is a prayer founded on how God has revealed that He protects and governs His people. This is an abiding principle of God's government, and another Psalm sets it out in full: "With the merciful you show yourself merciful; with the blameless man you show yourself blameless; with the purified you show yourself pure; and with the crooked you make yourself seem tortuous." (Psalm 18:25-26; compare Psalm 34:12, 16.) We must keep in mind this distinction between grace and government. It is a happy truth that God's attitude of grace towards His people never changes, because it rests on what Christ is before Him. Yet He never fails to chasten those among them whose walk and conduct bring dishonour on His name, and to mark them with His displeasure.
(An older translation reads "upright" where the ESV has "blameless," and "froward" where it has "crooked.")
"Good" here is not a claim to a flawless record. One writer names where that goodness came from:
Let the LORD do good to the good — not faultless, but upright in heart through grace.
Another writer refuses to let the word shrink God's promise. He turns it back on the reader, then points to a man who fit it:
"No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly." You say, "Is that not limiting?" It ought not to be. But it is a very healthy word for us. Do you think it is shutting you out? Let it search you. Let its light go through your innermost being. David could say, "Search me, O God, and know my heart!" We have in Nathanael a sample of an "upright" man — "an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!"
This prayer is sure of its answer. The same principle also runs the other way:
Verse 4 certainly cannot fail to have a positive answer from God. On the other hand, it is just as certain that the Lord will lead away those who turn aside to follow crooked ways, together with the evildoers. They may not take part in wicked opposition to God. Yet by ignoring Him they risk the folly of being classed with the most guilty.
The people who "turn aside" in the next verse are not outsiders:
The first part of verse 5 illustrates the same principle from the other side. It speaks of "those who turn aside to their crooked ways." This shows that they are among the people of God. Yet they are the ones the Lord will lead away with the evildoers. The face of the Lord must be against those who do evil, wherever they are found. […] The Israel named here is an Israel purified by judgment, as the previous verse shows. It is an Israel that has had all who turned aside to their crooked ways purged out of it.
This is not a rule that expired with Israel. It reaches every believer, and it sets a condition on what we enjoy:
This principle is a very important one. It applies as much to the Christian as to the Jew. It is true, in fact, of the saints of every period. To enjoy the blessings of any period, we must walk in a way that matches how God has revealed Himself at that time. It is always true that God withholds no good thing from those who walk uprightly.
The safety promised earlier in the psalm carries the same qualifier:
Trusting in the Lord is perfectly sure. A divine and almighty hand secures us. […] He may let us suffer for our God, or for His name's sake. But even then it does not happen according to the will and power of the wicked. It happens according to His own will and power. Only this assumes someone walking in His ways.
- Grace makes the good. Those called "good" here are "not faultless, but upright in heart through grace." God rewards goodness that He first gave.
- Government tests the good. God's grace towards His people never changes, because it rests on Christ. But His government still marks His displeasure at a walk that dishonours His name.
- Uprightness opens the good. God withholds no good thing from those who walk uprightly. The condition does not limit His generosity; it searches our hearts.
- Crooked ways forfeit the good. People inside the circle of God's people can turn aside, and end up led away with the evildoers.
- Peace crowns the good. The psalm closes on an Israel purified by judgment, with peace resting on them. That is the prayer of verse 4 answered in full.
But as for such as turn aside unto their crooked ways, Jehovah will lead them forth with the workers of iniquity. Peace be upon Israel!
Psalm 125 has praised the safety of those who trust the Lord. Verse 5 turns to a second group inside the same nation, then closes the song with a two-word blessing.
One writer marks a fixed rule in how God deals with His people. He sets God's unchanging grace apart from His government of daily conduct.
This is a lasting principle of God's government. Another Psalm states it in full: "With the merciful you show yourself merciful; with the blameless man you show yourself blameless; with the purified you show yourself pure; and with the crooked you make yourself seem tortuous" (Psalm 18:25-26). We must keep this distinction between grace and government in mind. God's attitude of grace towards His people never changes, because what Christ is before Him settles it. Yet He never fails to chasten those among them whose walk and conduct bring dishonour on His name, and to mark them with His displeasure.
These people are not outside enemies. The verse places them among God's own people.
The first clause of verse 5 shows the same principle from the other side. It speaks of "those who turn aside to their crooked ways." That shows they are among the people of God. Yet they are the ones the Lord will lead away with the workers of iniquity. The face of the Lord must be against those who do evil, wherever they are. This is a solemn thing for God's professing people to consider, since our God is a consuming fire.
The verse does not say these people did the wicked deeds themselves. It says they are led away in the same company — and that is the sting.
It is just as certain that the Lord will lead away those who turn aside to follow crooked ways, together with the workers of iniquity. They may not throw themselves into wicked opposition against God. Yet by ignoring Him they lay themselves open to the folly of being classed with the most guilty. Some may even criticise hypocrisy. That will not save them from having their portion appointed "with the hypocrites" in the lake of fire (Matthew 24:48-51).
Another writer sees the judgment as God giving these people the road they picked. The blessing on Israel stands even though the ones shut out never see it.
The wicked even among Israel turn aside from Jehovah's ways to their own. So Jehovah will lead them out of His ways into the paths and the portion of the wicked they have chosen. Yet though they are shut out along with the wicked, "Peace shall be upon Israel," even though they do not see it. So God removes the open wickedness, and casts out the wicked among the remnant of Israel with it. Then comes peace.
The song ends with two words. Commentators differ over whether they form a wish or a promise.
Notice that there are only two words — peace, Israel. Some read it, "Let peace be upon Israel," while others take it as a promise, "Peace shall be upon Israel." The difference is not great, for a divine desire amounts to a promise, and we may treat it that way. The Israel meant is an Israel purified by judgment. God has purged out from its midst all who had turned aside to their crooked ways. The apostle surely had this passage in mind when, led by the Spirit, he wrote, "And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God" (Galatians 6:16).
Commentators differ over how far this warning reaches. One speaks of a final portion in the lake of fire; this writer speaks of corrective chastening, and still holds the nation's outcome certain.
Verse 5 seems to treat treachery and turning back as possible even in the land. But the nation as a whole will certainly be a righteous nation. Nothing is clearer from Scripture than this. Men who are so richly blessed may still need corrective chastening at times. They are still in a body of unchanged flesh… As a nation they will be willingly subject to the sceptre of righteousness. For the law of Jehovah will be written on their hearts, and those hearts will themselves be new. Peace will rest on such.
- Path — The people warned of here are inside God's people, not outside. They turn aside from His ways to their own.
- Portion — God leads them into the very company and portion of the wicked they chose. A person who never fought God can still end up numbered with the guilty.
- Principle — God's grace towards His people never changes. But He still chastens those whose conduct dishonours His name.
- Purge — The Israel that receives the blessing is an Israel purified by judgment. God removes from it everyone who took the crooked road.
- Peace — Two words close the psalm. Wish or promise, a divine desire amounts to a promise, and the same blessing returns in Galatians 6:16.
(A Song of degrees.) When Jehovah turned the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream.
This song was sung on the way up to Jerusalem. It opens by looking back at a rescue so sudden that the people who lived through it could hardly believe their own eyes. Which rescue is in view? And why do freed people call themselves dreamers?
This psalm closes a group of songs. The two before it tell of escape from a trap and of safety in the Lord.
This beautiful Psalm completes the first series of seven. In exquisite language it celebrates how Jehovah suddenly stepped in to rescue Zion and free her from the power of the enemy. The connection with the two Psalms before it is very close. In 124:7 the remnant say, "We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped!" The next Psalm declares the stability and security of those who trust in the Lord. Now, in the Psalm before us, they look back on what the Lord had done for His people, and their hearts overflow with admiration and praise. The structure of the Psalm is very simple. It divides into two parts of three verses each. The first gives their experience of Jehovah's intervention for the beloved city. The second is a prayer for a larger deliverance, with the promise of a sure and abundant harvest for those who sow in tears.
Where the ESV says the Lord restored Zion's fortunes, older translations read that He turned her captivity. The comparison to dreamers is not about sleep but about disbelief at good news. The rescue came when Zion's case looked hopeless, and it went beyond what the people had asked for.
Their thoughts are centred on Zion, whose captivity Jehovah had turned again by His own right hand of power. Zion had been brought very low. But at her worst moment, when her case looks hopeless to every outward appearance, the Lord suddenly steps in to help her... This is the event celebrated in our Psalm. The remnant confess that Jehovah's intervention was so unexpected and so wonderful that "we were like those who dream." At first they could hardly believe it. They had been crying to the Lord for this very thing (Psalm 123, 130). But the answer went so far beyond their expectation that they were struck with astonishment — just as the saints were when they prayed for Peter's deliverance.
Zion's fortunes do not turn on their own. Across these songs the same subject keeps performing the verbs.
It is worth seeing how these psalms constantly ascribe all blessing to the Lord. It is the Lord who sets the captive free (Ps. 124:6-7). It is the Lord who is round about His people as they take their pilgrim way (Ps. 125:2). The Lord sets Zion free from the enemy (Ps. 126:1). The Lord builds the house and keeps the city (Ps. 127:1). And the Lord is the source of all millennial blessing.
The freeing of the city is only the first stage. More is still to come.
The Lord's intervention had been so unforeseen and so complete that, like a dream, it was almost beyond belief (compare Luke 24:41). This intervention has two parts. First, Zion itself is set free from the rule of the enemy. Then the full deliverance of the whole nation of Israel will follow.
Commentators differ over which event the verse describes. Some read it plainly of the exiles released from Babylon:
How little believers realise the joy of deliverance expressed in this beautiful Psalm. When Cyrus published his decree, the captives were like men who dreamed. It was as though some brave fiction had filled their hearts, so caught up were they in the joy of that moment. If only we knew this when we think of salvation and of Jesus!
Others allow that return as a picture, but hold that the language reaches past it:
We can readily grant that the restoration from Babylon was a shadow of a larger fulfilment. But the prophets predicted the setting up of the kingdom under the glorious Messiah. To anyone who knows those predictions, nothing less than the future deliverance and glory of Zion can match this description.
The joy of this verse stands against the sorrow that came before it.
It was a dream — the joy was so full, so unlooked-for. Even the nations now recognised Jehovah's hand... Still, God had shown Himself; and for the faithful, who had taken up His testimony in sorrow, when it meant shame and reproach, it was now a harvest of joy. So it always is, for full joy only comes through sorrow, since the testimony of God is in a world of evil.
- Low. Zion was brought very low. Her case looked hopeless to every outward appearance.
- Turned. The Lord Himself turned Zion's captivity. Across these songs He frees the captive, guards the pilgrim, builds the house and keeps the city.
- Dream. They had prayed for this very thing. The answer went so far beyond their hopes that they could hardly believe it.
- Reach. Some tie the verse to the exiles freed by Cyrus. Others hold that only Zion's future deliverance and glory match the words.
- Harvest. Zion's rescue is only the first part; Israel's full deliverance follows. For those who bore His testimony in sorrow, it is now a harvest of joy.
Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with rejoicing then said they among the nations, Jehovah hath done great things for them.
Psalm 126 is the song of a people God has just brought back from captivity. Verse 2 records what poured out of them: laughter, singing, and one sentence about them on the lips of the watching nations. Two questions follow. Where does such joy come from, and when does the verse come true?
The laughter here breaks out after a long stretch of darkness. Commentators tie it to the sheer size of what God had done.
But then they recovered themselves. They took in how real and how great Jehovah's rescuing grace was. Their mouth was filled with laughter and their tongue with singing (v. 2). The uncontrollable joy of their hearts burst out in a flood of ecstatic praise. And what wonder? It was the dawn of the summer morning they had long sighed for. The contrast with the dark midnight they had passed through was overwhelming. They could not help pouring out the feelings of their souls in songs of adoration.
Not all laughter is the same. One kind comes from God when He acts. Another comes from a heart that finds His promise too big to believe. We can admit only one of them without shame.
There is also the laughter with which unbelief fills our mouths. It comes when God's promises are too magnificent for our narrow hearts to take in. Or when the visible means look too small, in our judgement, for carrying out His grand designs. The laughter God gives we are never ashamed or afraid to admit. Zion's sons are not ashamed to say, "Then our mouth was filled with laughter." When Jehovah makes us laugh, we may laugh heartily.
The second half of the verse gives the words to outsiders. The nations say the sentence themselves, and they say it using God's own name.
Zion's captivity is turned, and God's wonderful grace to Israel seems still almost too great to believe. Yet it is real, and all the world is speaking of it. The nations have learned to speak of Jehovah, and of the great things He has done. Their hearts echo this with gladness: Jehovah has done great things indeed.
The people do not correct the nations. They echo the same words and change "them" to "us."
This restoration of the captivity of Zion now comes into special notice. The nations themselves were astonished. They saw the hand of the Lord at work for His people. And the echo of praise came back from the people: "He has done great things for us; we are glad." How simple and eloquent this word!
Commentators differ over how much of this verse the return from Babylon fulfilled. One writer holds that nothing in that return matched it:
Its language does not fit the return from Babylon. Scripture records the circumstances of that return and its results. Nothing in them can count as a fulfilment of verse 2. Cyrus simply allowed those of his Jewish subjects who wished it to go back to the ruined land of their fathers. There was little in that to remind the nations of the mighty working of the God of Jacob.
Others treat that return as a small down payment on a restoration still to come. They also note what changes in the nations:
Verse 1 may have had a small measure of fulfilment in the return from captivity in Ezra's day. But it will reach its full and perfect fulfilment only when God restores Israel in the millennium… Filled with laughter and singing, Israel will stand out among the nations as never before. Those nations will no longer be full of hostility, or even envy. They will rejoice to say, "The LORD has done great things for them."
The phrase the nations use here does more than mark one moment. It becomes the keynote of Israel's thanksgiving, both at the return from Babylon and in the age still to come.
Such a simple strain of gratitude is acceptable to God. In the Psalms we find that "great things done" will be the keynote of the song of thanksgiving. The blessed and delivered remnant of Israel will take it up when they enter their millennial joys. It was their keynote too when Jehovah brought back the exiles from Babylon.
- Rescue first. The laughter is a response, not a mood. It follows a rescue so great that it overwhelmed them.
- Laugh honestly. God gives one kind of laughter, and unbelief gives another. We can admit only the first without shame.
- Outsiders speak. The nations supply the sentence — they learn to name the Lord and credit Him with what happened.
- Israel echoes. The people take the nations' word and make it personal: He has done great things for us.
- Then sing it. "Great things done" was the keynote when God brought the exiles home, and it will be the keynote of Israel's song in the age to come.
Jehovah hath done great things for us; [and] we are joyful.
Psalm 126 sings about a rescue so sudden that the people felt they were dreaming. Verse 3 is where they echo the nations' verdict as their own — but which rescue is this, and what "great things" can you claim today?
The rescue came in two stages, and the praise for it ends in one place.
The Lord's intervention had been so unexpected and so complete that, like a dream, it was almost beyond belief. This intervention has a twofold character. Zion itself is set free from the rule of the enemy, and then comes the full deliverance of the whole nation of Israel. The city they are going to is delivered from its long ages of captivity. This leads to the joy of Israel, and to the Lord being glorified among the nations. They will say, "The Lord has done great things for them"; while the remnant themselves gladly give all the praise to the Lord, saying, "The Lord has done great things for us."
Verse 2 puts the sentence in the mouth of the nations; verse 3 repeats it with "us" in place of "them."
This restoration of the captivity of Zion is now specially noticed. The nations themselves were astonished and noticed the hand of the Lord working for them, and the echo of praise came from the people: "He has done great things for us, and we are glad." How simple and eloquent this word is!
The people do not correct the nations. They agree — and in agreeing they learn something about God for themselves.
When Zion's case looked hopeless, the Lord suddenly stepped in to rescue her… Even the surrounding nations perceived that it was God's hand, and confessed that the Lord had done great things for His people. Yes, happy Israel replies, endorsing the testimony of the nations, "The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad." For once more in their history they will learn in this way that the Lord is their strength and song, and has become their salvation. (See Psalm 118:14.)
The gladness here has a cause. One writer names two kinds of laughter in Scripture, and this is the first.
There are two kinds of laughter spoken of in Scripture. There is first the laughter with which the Lord fills our mouth, when He steps in at some trying crisis to bring us relief.
How much of this psalm has already happened? One writer looks past any earlier return from exile.
Though verse 1 may have had a small measure of fulfilment in the return from the captivity in Ezra's day, it will only be perfectly fulfilled when Israel is restored in the millennium. The wonder of that return will be so amazing that they will find it hard to believe, feeling as though they are dreaming (v. 1). Filled with laughter and singing, they will be recognised as never before among the nations, who will no longer be filled with hostility, nor even with envy, but will rejoice to say, "The Lord has done great things for them."
These words are not tied to one nation at one date. Ask the same question of your own life — and see what the answer sends you to do.
The great things which the Lord has done for you may not be the same things He has done for me, and the other way round. But the point is that, whether we are conscious of it or not, He has done great things for every one of us. Psalm 126 speaks of the present gladness that springs from the past experience of the great things of God, while the prophet Joel looks forward to the great things the Lord will do for His own. The eighth chapter of Luke shows how this works in practice. The man who had been freed from demons wanted to be with the Lord. But that was not the best course for him. He was sent not merely to tell but to show what great things God had done for him.
- Great things — done. The verb is past and the doer is God. The singers claim no share in their own rescue; they only report it.
- Great things — unbelievable. The rescue was so sudden and so complete that it felt like a dream. The people could hardly believe it was real.
- Great things — noticed. The nations said it before Israel did. God worked so openly that outsiders could see His hand.
- Great things — echoed. Israel agrees with the nations and turns "them" into "us." Gladness starts with that echo.
- Great things — retold. Luke 8 sends a freed man home with the same words. He is to tell what God has done — and to show it.
Turn our captivity, O Jehovah, as the streams in the south.
The song has just recalled a rescue so sudden that the people felt like dreamers. Now that memory turns into a request, and the picture behind it is water rushing down the dry riverbeds of the Negeb, the desert in the south.
The people praying already hold part of the answer. That is why they ask for the rest.
Psalm 126:4. "Turn again our captivity, O Lord." Zion and Judah will be brought back first. God had already brought back the captives of Zion when they prayed this prayer (v. 1). They are only the earnest of what God will do when He restores all Israel.
An "earnest" is a first instalment that guarantees the whole. So Zion's return was real, but it was never meant to be the end.
Older translations read the opening line as "Turn again our captivity, O Lord," where the ESV has "Restore our fortunes." The writers quoted here use that older wording, and one of them explains the image by the season that fills these desert channels.
They see that Jehovah has begun to redeem His people from the hand of their enemies. So their faith grows strong, and they now pray for fuller blessing... It is the return of the latter rain after the dry and barren season, and so "as the streams in the south." Before the rains, the beds of these streams are dry and rocky. But at their appointed times the fertilizing showers of heaven fill them to overflowing.
The picture also says something about scale, and about what is still missing while Zion alone is free.
The Lord has delivered Zion, but Israel is not yet fully settled in their land. So they pray that their return from captivity may be like the streams in the south. Those streams begin as a small trickle. Then the rain swells them into rivers that bring blessing and fruitfulness to the parched land.
The prayer asks for more than a journey home. It asks God to break the enemy's power, and it looks ahead to a harvest.
The Lord turned Zion's captivity, but they want full deliverance from the presence and power of the enemy. "Turn again our captivity, O Lord, as the streams (or torrents) in the south," as a full tide of blessing refreshing the thirsty ground. This was the sowing time. They would reap the rich harvest when Jehovah had at last taken up the cause of His people. How truly faith is the substance of things hoped for!
Commentators differ on what the streams stand for. Most read them as water refreshing dry ground. One writer reads them as the returning people, flowing back into an empty land.
The fourth verse prays for the full accomplishment — probably the whole return of their scattered tribes now. Then the land may receive again the streams of her population, as the dry channels of the south receive fresh and abundant water in due time. Those dry beds speak of Israel in her time of drought, when her only rain was the tears she wet the earth with. Because of what His people are, God has to appoint them such seasons of disciplinary sorrow.
Verses 1-3 sing of what God will do. Verse 4 records the prayer that leads there, and the tears in the next verse have a cause.
Verses 1-3 are prophetic, but verse 4 goes back to record the prayer that leads to the fulfilment of that prophecy. It does so only briefly, for verse 5 at once reports the results of tears being sown. No doubt the failure and sin of Israel cause the tears, and that failure brings some at least to genuine repentance.
- Earnest — The return already given to Zion is a down payment, not the whole. It guarantees that God will restore all Israel.
- Trickle — The prayer asks that this small start swell like a desert stream that grows into a river and waters dry ground.
- Rain — The dry channels of the south fill only when heaven sends rain at its set time. The flood is God's doing, not the land's.
- Enemy — They ask for more than release. They ask for full deliverance from the presence and power of the enemy.
- Harvest — Verse 4 is the prayer between the promise and its fulfilment. The tears that follow are sowing, and sowing ends in reaping.
They that sow in tears shall reap with rejoicing
Psalm 126 is the song of people who have watched God turn back their captivity, and who now ask Him to finish what He started. Verse 5 answers with a rule: the field watered by tears is the field that yields a harvest.
One commentator explains why Israel still prays, and what "streams in the south" pictures.
Zion is delivered, but Israel is not yet fully established in their land. So they pray that their return from captivity may be like the streams in the south which, starting as a trickling rill, become swollen with the rain into rivers that bring blessing and fruitfulness to the parched land. During long years of captivity they had sown in tears; now they will reap in joy the fruits of all the chastening they had passed through.
The tears are not vague sadness. One writer ties this sowing to a faithful few who keep teaching others through extreme pressure and persecution.
Truly, this chosen remnant of faithful souls, faithful through grace in a day of extreme pressure and persecution, will "sow" in tears. As we read in Daniel, "And the wise among the people shall make many understand, though for some days they shall stumble by sword and flame, by captivity and plunder." But the seed steeped in their tears and sown in sorrow will sprout in its own time, spring up, and bring forth an abundant harvest, when the sower and the reaper will rejoice together.
Another writer notes where such tears end up — not lost, but stored.
They will sigh and cry over the abominations of that city which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt. And those tears will fall into the Lord's bottle as a precious memorial, to be acknowledged in due time.
The verb is future, yet the singers speak as if the harvest were already in hand.
Now it was, so to speak, the sowing time. They would reap the abundant harvest when the Lord had finally taken up the cause of His people. How truly faith gives substance to things hoped for! "Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy" is the persuasion of their souls.
Two writers trace the sowing back to Christ Himself.
It has been truly said, Christianity was sown in the tears of the Son of God.
If the sowing was His, so is the measure of the reaping.
But in a fuller, deeper sense, the sower in tears is the Man of sorrows Himself. Believers know Him this way. In the deep travail of His soul He has completed the seed time of affliction. That sowing will bear its satisfying harvest when He appears again as the reaper of His own reward. His affliction went far beyond the natural measure of human grief, for He went through the dreadful realities of death and judgment for our sakes. By that same measure, the fullness of His pure delight will excel His people's joy.
The promise is not only for Israel's future. One writer applies it to gatherings so grieved that no one could speak.
I have read of a time when several people met in such sorrow of heart that for a long time they could not say a single word. But the floor of the meeting-room was wet with their tears. If the Lord would grant us such meetings again, it would be our wisdom to visit these houses of tears. "Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy." It is not only for the earthly remnant that this is true; it is also written for us.
One writer applies the verse to preaching. It describes not just the result but the state of heart behind the work.
How to preach is also important, and Scripture tells us how to do it… "Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy." I think that is the How. There is a moral state. There is exercise of soul. And so you sow in tears, and reap in joy. That is a beautiful answer to the How, both in the way you go out and in the way you present the truth.
One writer applies the same principle to workers who see little fruit.
Faced with opposition and conflict we may lose heart; seeing little result from "well doing" we may grow weary. But let us press on, waiting for God's "due season."
- Seed — tears are not wasted time. They are sowing: faithful witness under pressure, persecution and long chastening.
- Stored — no tear is lost. They fall into the Lord's bottle, and He will acknowledge them in due time.
- Sure — the singers state the harvest as fact, because faith gives substance to what we hope for.
- Sower — Christ wept first and sowed deepest, and His joy at the harvest will exceed even His people's.
- Season — so keep sowing; the reaping comes at God's due season, not ours.
He goeth forth and weepeth, bearing seed for scattering; he cometh again with rejoicing, bearing his sheaves.
Psalm 126 begins with Zion's captivity turned. It ends with a farmer walking out to his field in tears and coming home with his arms full. The last verse narrows the picture from a whole people to a single figure, and commentators ask who that one Sower is.
The psalm's own moment is the sowing time. One writer shows what faith was sure of while the harvest was still ahead:
It was now, so to speak, the sowing time; the abundant harvest would be reaped when the Lord had finally taken up the cause of His people. How truly faith makes real the things we hope for! "Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy" is the settled persuasion of their souls. The generation then living would see the blessings God had promised His people, and share in them.
The picture comes from real hunger. One writer passes on an explanation that makes the tears understandable:
I have heard that the figure used here is a man with nothing to eat in his home. All he has is some seed, and he faces this problem. Will I grind this seed, make flour and eat it? That fills me now, but then there is no future. Or will I plant it, go hungry for the present, and expect a crop and more food in the long run — not only for myself, but for my wife, my children and others? So he says, "I will plant it," and because his position is so severe, he weeps as he goes out to sow. But then the crop comes and there is enough for all.
Verse 5 speaks of many sowers. Verse 6 speaks of one. Commentators see that change as the key to the psalm:
In the closing verse it seems that the Spirit of God leads the psalmist to see that Christ had gone before them on the path they are treading. He no longer speaks of "those who sow in tears," but of One, "He who goes out weeping." In the days of His humiliation Christ had sown "precious seed," and watered it with His tears. He will come again with a great harvest of souls. He will see the fruit of the anguish of His soul, and be satisfied.
If Christ is the one in view, then the weeping is not a figure of speech. One commentator sets the sorrow and the sheaves side by side:
But there was One above all who had sown precious seed in Israel, in love as well as in righteousness, and continued in both. He had been a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, their faces hidden from Him; but now He filled His arms with the sheaves. Though sown in tears, the seed was indeed precious seed, and the fruit sweet to His taste, and the joy of His labour of love — now He reaped it.
Another writer names what that seed is, and why He came:
He came into the world to throw the incorruptible seed into the soil — the word of God that lasts for ever, for in these last days God has spoken to us in Him. He came to make God known to men, to declare the Father in whose bosom He dwelt as the only Son; and in doing this He was the great Sower of the seed.
Not all weeping counts here. One writer measures the tears by what they are about:
These are not selfish tears... But tears of genuine concern for the blessing of others are of great consequence when the seed of the Word of God is sown. It is of course that seed which produces the sheaves of grain that will cause rejoicing. This applies directly to the reviving of Israel in the last days. But believers today may well take it to heart, and seek the eternal blessing of those who are lost unless they receive the truth of the Word of God.
The verse does not say the sower may come back with sheaves. He shall come home. Older translations read "shall doubtless come again with rejoicing," and that certainty comforts anyone whose work seems to have failed:
Remember this. You may labour all your lifetime and say, "Somehow I have not been allowed to see much result of my labour." If your labour has been in the Lord, you shall see the fruit in the resurrection day, as surely as God's word is true.
- Seed — the seed is the word of God, which lasts for ever; commentators call it precious seed.
- Sower — verse 6 drops from "they" to "He." Commentators see Christ, who sowed that word in tears in the days of His humiliation.
- Sorrow — the tears are the cost of the sowing: not self-pity, but genuine concern for the blessing of others.
- Certainty — he shall come home. Work done for the Lord that looks fruitless now bears fruit at the resurrection day.
- Sheaves — Israel's restoration and every servant's work keep one order: sow weeping, return rejoicing, arms full.
(A Song of degrees. Of Solomon.) Unless Jehovah build the house, in vain do its builders labour in it; unless Jehovah keep the city, the keeper watcheth in vain
Solomon's name stands over this psalm — the man who built both a temple and a palace. Its opening line puts the question every builder and every guard must face: whose work is it, and what remains of ours if God is not in it?
The verse is one line in a sequence where the singers trace every good thing back to one source.
Notice how, again and again, these psalms give the Lord the credit for every blessing. It is the Lord who sets the captive free (Ps. 124:6-7). It is the Lord who is round about His people as they take their pilgrim way (Ps. 125:2); the Lord sets Zion free from the enemy (Ps. 126:1); the Lord builds the house and keeps the city (Ps. 127:1); and the Lord is the source of all millennial blessing.
For the pilgrims singing it, the house and the city were not abstractions. They were the goal of the journey, and the psalm teaches them that the God who purposed it must also carry it out.
They had seen the purpose of the Lord to have Jerusalem "builded" and "compact together" (Ps. 122:3). Now they recognise that only the Lord can carry out His purpose.
Commentators note a question over the wording: the house, or a house? One writer argues the wider reading sharpens the lesson.
Some argue that it should be rendered a house, and not the house. If we accept the correction, the teaching is even stronger. It then takes in Solomon's own house, the temple which he had the privilege of building, and the house or temple which will yet be rebuilt. The Jews will build that one in unbelief after their restoration, and the Lord Himself will build at last, after His kingdom is set up. (See Zechariah 6:12.)
There is a motive behind building without God.
The pride of man moves him to want to do something — something even for God. But this is not submission to Him who is Himself the Builder. "For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God" (Heb. 3:4).
The most sobering comment on the verse comes from the life of the man whose name stands over it. Twenty of his years went into building, and the proportions tell their own story.
First of all we have the general truth. All human undertakings come to nothing unless the Lord is with us in them, guiding, controlling, and sustaining. They come to nothing unless we are only carrying out His purposes and designs… Solomon forgot the divine principle he had been given to record. You can see it in the comment added to the statement that he was seven years building the Lord's house: "But Solomon was building his own house thirteen years," nearly twice seven. How often we start our own service in real dependence on the Lord, with a full sense that we can do nothing apart from Him. Then, from one cause or another — sometimes even from delight in the work itself — we begin to lean on our own methods or our own energies. Or we lose sight of God's object because our own object absorbs us.
Israel did not learn this in theory. Both halves of the verse — the building and the watching — cost them painful experience.
Counting on God's word, they have learnt to count on Him alone for everything… They had learnt how empty it was to build the house without the Lord's favour. They had felt their powerlessness to keep the invader out of the city. The house had been laid low (Ps. 74) and the city had been a prey to the enemy… All the extra watchfulness on man's part was only in vain. God would have His people trust Him.
However strong the defences, the second half of the verse allows no exception.
Jerusalem may yet be rebuilt and fortified so strongly that people think it can never be taken. The sentries may stay on the alert, and the city may take every precaution against attack, especially at night. But the hardest efforts of human strength and care will be useless unless the Lord keeps the city.
The warning reaches anyone who builds for God today.
These words carry a solemn warning to Christian builders. As Paul writes, "According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it." (1 Cor. 3:10.) The one who builds in wood, hay, or straw only labours in vain… The day will declare the character of every man's work, whether of Jewish or Christian builders, because fire will reveal it.
- Vain — real effort, real hours, real skill, all coming to nothing because the Lord was not in it.
- Pride — the root of vain building is the urge to do something for God instead of submitting to the One who is Himself the Builder.
- Solomon — the author spent seven years on the Lord's house and thirteen on his own. Knowing the principle is not the same as keeping it.
- Trust — Israel learned it by loss — the house laid low, the city taken, all their watching useless. Then they counted on Him alone.
- Fire — the same test reaches every Christian builder, since the day will show what sort of work each one did.
It is vain for you to rise up early, to lie down late, to eat the bread of sorrows so to his beloved one he giveth sleep.
Psalm 127 says a house built without the Lord is built for nothing. Verse 2 turns that lesson on the anxious worker, and it raises a sharp question: what is the "sleep" God gives His beloved, and why is it set against hard work?
The verse does not start a new subject. It carries the lesson of verse 1 into daily work:
Psalm 127. This psalm tells us that God alone gives the increase. All labour, all toil, is vain, unless the Lord Himself and His hand are in it to work and bless. So the diligent efforts of evil-doers come to nothing. And — blessed be His name! — He gives rest and peace to His beloved. He gives it without the toil and labour by which the reckless men of the world search for it in vain.
The striving has a root, and it goes back to Eden:
So everything comes from the Lord. We see that He alone is the dependence of all His creatures. Man departed from this in Eden, to set up in independence for himself. If he is brought back, then, it must be to this; and this is what we find in Psalm 127. The Lord alone is enough… Then comes the strong rebuke of that anxious toil on man's part — early and late, eating the bread of drudgery. God gives to those He loves in a way so different: they lie down and sleep, and are supplied!
Some translations read the last clause as "He gives to His beloved in sleep." One writer rejects that reading and draws the meaning of the word out of the argument itself:
Many take sleep in its literal sense and translate it, "He gives His beloved in sleep." But we cannot find any justification for this addition in the language used… No one would ever think of buying sleep in the way described here, and not by eating the bread of sorrows. Yet it is the common way of man to seek the means of ease, retirement and enjoyment through his own painful and tireless labours. We conclude, therefore, that we must take sleep in the symbolic sense of rest and repose of spirit.
Where the same writer treats the verse a second time, he states the exchange plainly — one side strives for what the other side simply receives:
He teaches, in short, that the Lord gives to His beloved what others seek after by their own persevering efforts and carefulness. You, he says, hope by striving and anxious labour to reach your haven; the Lord bestows rest, as gift and blessing, upon His people… And what a blessed lesson to learn, that peace can only be enjoyed as the Lord's gift. "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."
The lesson is not tied to one time or one people:
We see, therefore, that in every age God will have His people learn that He is the source of all their blessings. He is a GIVER, the God of all grace. So the secret of a happy, restful life lies in real dependence upon Himself… When we have once learned that God is a giver, we are content and happy to be receivers.
One writer applies the words to the Lord Jesus Himself, asleep in the boat:
Now we come to a little passage in His life. One day He got into a boat, and He fell asleep. "So He gives His beloved sleep." Now if the disciples had been wise, what would they have done? They would have looked at their sleeping Master with intent, worshipping eyes!
The same rest reaches people whose days are crowded with work:
But do you say, "How is it possible to have that, absorbed as we are in our daily occupations?" It is the Lord who gives His beloved sleep. Yes, He can give our souls quietness and rest in His own presence even when the storm and the tempest surround us.
Psalm 127 sits in a group of songs sung by people on a journey, and commentators read the vain building and watching against that history — a ruined house and a captured city:
They had felt their powerlessness to keep the invader out of the city, and all their extra watchfulness was in vain. God would have His people trust Him, and learn this from His giving of sleep. "So He gives His beloved sleep." This daily blessing was a lesson in it.
The tenderness of the verse hangs on one word: beloved. Where death comes in, sleep carries a further sense:
"He gives His beloved sleep." How precious is the link of affection between God and His saints — His beloved!… The sorrow of death lifts, and light shines into the gloom of the grave, as we realise that the way of love is in evidence… No power can break this precious link. Death itself only takes us into the presence of One who loves us with an eternal love.
- Vain — Rising early, staying up late and eating anxious bread achieve nothing on their own. Without the Lord's hand in the work, the toil is empty.
- Root — The striving goes back to Eden, where man set up in independence. The way back is the way back to dependence.
- Gift — What anxious people chase by effort, God hands to those He loves. "Sleep" here means rest and repose of spirit, and the nightly gift teaches it.
- Giver — God is the source of every blessing His people have. Once we learn He is a giver, we are content to be receivers.
- Beloved — This rest holds in the middle of the storm, as with the sleeping Master in the boat. It reaches even to the grave, where love still gives sleep.
Lo, children are an inheritance from Jehovah, [and] the fruit of the womb a reward.
Psalm 127 is a pilgrim song linked to Solomon. It opens by taking away every human guarantee. The builder works, the watchman guards, the worried man gets up early — and none of it settles anything. Verse 3 answers that emptiness: a family is not won by effort. God hands it over. That raises three questions. What does such a gift cost? What is it for? And what if it never comes?
The verse opens with "Behold." It illustrates everything the psalm has said so far. One writer reads the whole psalm as a single correction of self-reliance:
So everything comes from Jehovah. All His creatures depend on Him alone. Man walked away from this in Eden and set himself up as independent. If God brings him back, it must be back to this. That is what we find in Psalm 127.
Children complete the psalm's short list — the house, the guarded city, restful sleep. God gives each one; no one earns them. The word "reward" points to who stands behind the gift:
But if there are children, they too are God's gift — an inheritance from the Lord. They come as His recompense or reward. They mark His approval and blessing on those who fear Him and obey His word... So in every age God teaches His people one lesson. He is the source of all their blessings. He is a GIVER, the God of all grace. And the secret of a happy, restful life is to live knowing we depend on Him.
If children come from God, they are not finally the parents' property. One writer turns this into a plain duty: parents hold what God gave, and give it back to Him:
May God help every one of us parents to hold our children as the most sacred trust God can place in our keeping. Some of us look after the Lord's goods. How much heavier it is to be handed precious, never-dying souls, and to train them for Him and His service!
That trust shaped how Jesus Himself treated children when His own followers thought them a distraction:
Clearly they thought children were of little importance compared with men. But they are created by God, and given to parents as a heritage from the Lord (Ps. 127:3), to be cared for and trained as for the Lord Himself.
The next verses picture children as arrows in a warrior's hand. One writer explains why that image made sense at the time:
Children are also a means of defence (for enemies are still in the land, as noted before)... The city gate was the place of authority and judgment. People settled their disputes there, and enemies attacked there too. So the psalm's picture is easy to understand. The man whose quiver is full of such arrows — children — has the means to defend his cause when someone attacks it unjustly. He can face his enemies without fear.
The verse can wound. Not every faithful believer receives what it describes. One writer looks back to God's promise to Israel and forward to its full keeping:
In the coming age of Christ's reign on earth, God will bless Israel with many children. Israel will learn that children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward for depending on Him. Today God does not give this blessing to every godly believer. Often the comfort of spiritual children makes up that lack. And every imbalance of this present time, while the world still rejects Christ, He will put right in the coming glory.
Hannah's story is read as this verse's shadow side — a godly woman whose grief was precisely that this reward had not come:
She was suffering — she had not had any children (children being rightly regarded by Israelites as a gift from God: Ps. 127:3).
Dennett takes the same principle into gospel work:
We may remind ourselves that in preaching the gospel too, children are a heritage from the Lord. That keeps us free from human methods for getting results. It keeps us free from appeals to natural feeling. And it leads us to depend only on the almighty power of the Holy Spirit and on the favour and blessing of God.
- Given. Man walked away from dependence on God in Eden. Children are the proof that what matters most still comes as a gift.
- Reward. They arrive as inheritance and reward — the mark of God's approval, not the wage of parental effort.
- Trust. God hands them over, and parents hand them back: never-dying souls to train for His service.
- Reach. The same rule governs gospel work. There too "children" are His heritage. That rules out human methods and throws us on the Spirit.
- Rest. Where God withholds the gift now, one writer points to spiritual children as comfort today, and to the coming glory that puts every imbalance right.
As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of youth.
The picture in this verse is a soldier's, not a nursery's: children are weapons in a strong man's grip. The psalm has just called all human building and watching useless without the Lord. So why does it answer that failure with a family rather than a fortress?
The verse follows straight on from the line that children come as an inheritance from the Lord. The order matters. The household does not raise this strength. God hands it over.
Besides, if they needed human strength to drive back the enemy, God could supply it. "Look, the inheritance of Jehovah (that is, what He gives) is children, and His reward the fruit of the womb." For defence or for attack, let them rely on what He will provide.
Commentators take the phrase "children of one's youth" to mean young men. The picture belongs to a settled city.
"Children of the youth," I take to be "young men." The Lord had built the city, so the sons grew up like plants, and their daughters like the polished corners of the temple. The streets of Jerusalem, where the Lord was, would be full of boys and girls playing, themselves a blessing from the Lord. They were like arrows in the hand of the mighty man — His quiver was full of them, and He would speak with His enemies.
Their strength is not the whole point. The hand that directs it matters.
He also gives "the children of youth" — those who have the strength and vigour of youth, whom the Lord will use to defend the house and meet the enemy in the gate.
Enemies are still in the land. The gate is where sons make the difference.
Children, moreover, are a means of defence (for enemies are still in the land, as noticed before): "As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth." The gate was the place of authority and judgment, where people settled their disputes. It may also have been a place of attack by outside enemies. So the psalmist's meaning is easy to understand. The man who "has his quiver full of" such arrows — children — will have the means to defend his cause when enemies attack him unjustly. He can stand up to them with confidence.
A quiver holds more than one arrow. Many children count here as a blessing, not a burden.
Then the psalm likens children to arrows in the hand of a warrior, useful for gaining victories over enemies. "Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them" (v. 5). There are some who criticise those who have more than one or two children, but God does not. Susannah Wesley, we are told, had 22 children, and taught them all to read by using the Word of God.
An arrow can also turn back. David's own family shows it.
Jehovah took pleasure in the families of His people. So we read in a well-known Song of Ascents, "Look, children are an inheritance from Jehovah, the fruit of the womb a reward. As arrows in a mighty man's hand, so are the children of youth..." Yet David tasted bitter sorrow when he set his heart on them too much. What irony in the outcome of the one he called "Father of peace"? He rose up as an empty and unscrupulous pretender against him, and to his own destruction. ... Only he who is born of God has life everlasting.
The picture also reaches past the family, into gospel work.
In the preaching of the gospel, for example, children are an inheritance from the Lord. This keeps us free from all human methods to secure success, and from all appeals to nature and sentiment. It leads us to depend only on the almighty power of the Holy Spirit, and on the favour and blessing of God.
- Given — The arrows are not manufactured by the household. What defends the home is what God provides, for defence or for attack.
- Grown — "Children of the youth" means young men, with the strength and vigour the Lord can use.
- Aimed — Their strength shows at the gate, the place of judgment and of attack, where sons defend a father's cause against unjust attack.
- Multiplied — A full quiver is God's own valuation. Others may criticise large families; God does not.
- Guarded — David's sorrow over a rebel son warns that no arrow is safe by birth. Only the one born of God has life everlasting.
Happy is the man that hath filled his quiver with them. They shall not be ashamed when they speak with enemies in the gate.
In this psalm, a father counting his children is a man counting weapons. The full quiver raises two questions: what enemy is in view, and who fills the quiver.
One writer explains both the arrows and the gate:
Children are also a means of defence, since enemies are still in the land: "Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth." This also explains the next verse. The gate was the place of authority and judgment, where people settled disputes, and perhaps the place where enemies from outside attacked. The man whose quiver is full of such arrows — children — has the means to defend his cause when someone attacks him wrongly. So he can face his enemies without fear.
One writer answers those who look down on large families:
The psalm likens children to arrows in the hand of a warrior, useful for winning victories over enemies. "Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!" (v. 5). There are some who criticize those who have more than one or two children, but God does not. We are told that Susannah Wesley had 22 children, and taught them all to read by using the Word of God. God used her son John Wesley to bring large numbers to salvation. God gave her son Charles grace to write more hymns than anyone else on record — many of them very good hymns.
One writer reads the whole psalm as one lesson in dependence:
They had learned how useless it was to build the house without the Lord's approval. They had felt their powerlessness to keep the invader out of the city. All extraordinary watchfulness on man's part was only in vain. God would have His people trust Him. Besides, if they needed human strength to drive back the enemy, God could supply it. "Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD (that is, what He gives), the fruit of the womb a reward." For defence or for attack, let them rely on what He will provide.
One writer takes "children of the youth" to mean grown young men, and sets the verse in a day when the city stands built:
"Children of the youth" I take to mean "young men." It was not "Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days," for the Lord had built the city, and the sons grew up as plants, and their daughters as the polished corners of the temple. It was not now to say, "Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore" — the full blessing had come in. This was not the prosperity of the world, as in Psalm 49, in a time of sorrow. It was the blessing of the Lord in the time of blessing. The city stood built, and the streets of Jerusalem, where the Lord was, would be full of boys and girls playing — themselves a blessing from the Lord. They were as arrows in the hand of the mighty man — His quiver was full of them, and He would speak with His enemies.
Another writer applies the happy man to the Messiah, who receives a new people:
Then He will have children as "a heritage from the LORD," a new people; "from the womb of the morning, the dew of your youth will be yours" (Psalm 110:3). Then He will be called happy.
Yet the blessing is not automatic. One writer points to David's own family:
Yet David tasted bitter sorrow when he set his heart too much on them. What irony in the outcome of the one he called "Father of peace," who rose up as an empty and unscrupulous pretender against him and to his own destruction. Nor was he by any means the only one who yielded a crop of sin and shame and blood. Yes, "He who sires a fool gets himself sorrow, and the father of a fool has no joy." Only he who is born of God has everlasting life.
One writer carries the picture over into gospel work:
We may well remind ourselves that, in the preaching of the gospel for example, children are an inheritance from the Lord. This will keep us free from all human methods of ensuring success, and from all appeals to nature and sentiment. It will lead us to depend on the almighty power of the Holy Spirit alone, and on the favour and blessing of God.
- Gift — God fills the quiver; man cannot. Without Him the builder and the watchman work for nothing.
- Arrows — The psalm pictures children as weapons: strength for defence or attack that a man receives, not makes.
- Gate — The gate is the place of judgment, where people settle disputes; a full quiver means a man can meet a wrongful charge and not be put to shame.
- Happy — Scripture calls the man with a full quiver blessed; commentators also apply that happiness to the Messiah, who receives a new people.
- Warning — David's grief over a rebel son shows the blessing is not automatic; gospel work needs the same dependence as the home.
(A Song of degrees.) Blessed is every one that feareth Jehovah, that walketh in his ways.
The song before this one says the Lord alone builds a house and keeps a city; this psalm names the people who live inside that blessing. The verse gives two marks — fear of the Lord and a walk in His ways — and everything that follows in the psalm hangs on them.
So this psalm answers a question the one before it leaves open: who does God build for?
The previous Psalm teaches that the Lord Himself is the source of all blessing and prosperity. Without Him no one can accomplish or establish anything. If that is so, this Psalm gives us the character of those on whom His favour rests: "Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD, who walks in His ways." (v. 1.) It then describes the blessing they enjoy.
The word "fear" can suggest cringing before a threat. Commentators rule that out here.
The first verse shows the spiritual condition and character of those who enjoy the favour of the Lord. The fear of the Lord marks them, along with a practical walk that agrees with His ways. Their walk is not governed by the fear of man, nor by the legal fear of consequences. Their godly practice flows from a spiritual condition.
The second phrase is not a separate requirement. It is what the first one looks like in daily conduct.
"Fearing the Lord" describes a man who acts with a good conscience before Him. So we read, "Happy is the man who always fears" (Proverbs 28:14). That is the man who with holy fear seeks grace to avoid everything that would grieve the Spirit of God. And "walking in His ways" points to the conduct that follows from fearing the Lord — a walk formed and governed by the word of God.
No one produces this condition in himself. One writer traces it back to God's grace.
It is marvellous grace that plants the fear of the Lord in human hearts. Some do not have it, others do. But the blessing of this is wonderful, for it moves the heart to walk in the ways of the Lord — a precious privilege indeed. Labour then will not be mere "works of the flesh," but work moved by the knowledge of God.
The blessing is not limited to one family line. The wording itself decides who has a share.
The general statement made here includes all in that day who fear the Lord. It takes in not only the descendants of Israel, but the foreigner who will have a share in the land. (Ezek. 47:22.)
Dennett notes that this open wording "will therefore correspond, for example, with the 'whosoevers' of John 3:15-16."
The rest of the psalm fills out the blessing with a wife, children, bread and Jerusalem. Writers point out that these blessings are of earth, not of heaven.
There is nothing of heaven in either of these Psalms. The blessings named belong to the earth alone. Heavenly things are certainly connected with them, for heaven will be opened in that day, and angels will go up and down upon the Son of man (John 1:51). But the centre of the scene presented here is Jerusalem on earth.
Commentators differ over how far the promises transfer. Pridham warns that long life, many children and worldly influence are not promised to those who walk faithfully in Christ Jesus. Others hold that the principle still applies today.
But if the Lord's blessing alone can keep or give success, those who fear the Lord can count upon it. And this is true. It does not exclude persecution, nor does it exclude discipline and the exercise of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here. "Who will harm you, if you are followers of what is good?" It does not mean a prosperity that consists in gratifying our desires. It means the peaceful enjoyment of divine favour here below.
Dennett adds the governing side of this truth. God makes the receiving and enjoying of these blessings depend on His people fearing Him and walking in His ways. This principle, he says, "applies as much to the Christian as to the Jew."
- Source. Psalm 127 says the Lord alone builds and keeps; Psalm 128 names who lives under that building — the one who fears Him.
- Gift. Grace plants this fear in the heart; no one works it up. It then moves the heart to walk in His ways.
- Walk. Fear is the inward condition, the walk is its shape — a life formed by God's word, not by fear of man or dread of consequences.
- Reach. "Everyone" is wide. It covers not only the descendants of Israel but the foreigner too — the same openness as the "whosoevers" of the gospel.
- Result. The psalm's picture of bread, family and peace looks on to blessing on earth. Even now, walking in the fear of God is the path of peace — though it shuts out neither persecution nor discipline.
For thou shalt eat the labour of thy hands; happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee.
This song moves from the house and city that only the Lord can build to the table of the man who fears Him. His first blessing is the plainest one: he eats what he worked for. Why does so ordinary a promise count as blessing? And can a believer today claim it?
The promise sounds unremarkable until you remember the history behind it. Israel's story was full of harvests that never reached the family that grew them.
What a picture it presents of the calm, quiet enjoyment of the earthly people! How often had their fathers sown for others to reap! How often had the enemy invaded the land and carried off the produce of the soil! (Judges 6:3, 11.)
The point is not wealth but keeping what you earn. The blessing belongs to the obedient man, and it reaches his household.
It is the happiness of the obedient man. He lives on his own labour — he does not hand it over to another. Wife and children are the adornments of his house; and now there is no thought of enemies in the gate.
The promise is not new. The same chapter of the law that gave it also spells out its reverse.
First, he should enjoy the fruit of his own labour. This is simply the fulfilment of the promises God made to His people, on condition that they observed and kept His commandments (see Deuteronomy 28:1-12). The same chapter shows the contrast. There God warns them that, if they turned aside from His statutes and laws, others would eat the fruit of their land and all their labours. (v. 33.)
The verse promises a blessing and then adds something further — that it will be well with you. Older translations read "happy shall you be" where the ESV has "you shall be blessed." Dennett takes these as two gifts: an inward sense of God's favour, and a settled outcome under His hand.
A soul kept in holiness before God enjoys the sense of His favour. This soon proves to be the secret of all true happiness... So the godly Israelite learns here that God's eye was upon him. Sorrows and trials might still lie ahead. Even so, good would be the certain result of God's government and ways.
Some read the verse as a formula for getting rich by being good. The blessing is real, but the prosperity it promises is of another kind.
But if the Lord's blessing alone can keep or give success, those who fear the Lord can count on it. And this is true. It does not exclude persecution, nor does it exclude discipline and the exercise of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here... It does not mean a prosperity that consists in gratifying our desires, but the peaceful enjoyment of divine favour here below.
The promise has a present-day side, and it comes as a warning.
And do not forget that there is a sense in which this may be true now of the children of God. If they walk with no regard for His word, with themselves as their object, God will often come in and deal with them in their circumstances. How many have set out to get on in the world! They laboured long and hard to reach their ends, and then, just as their goal was in sight, all the fruit of their toil suddenly disappeared. God's blessing can only rest on the labours of those who fear Him and walk in His ways.
Verse 1 sets the condition, and verse 2 flows out of it. The fear of God does not merely earn a reward for labour; it alters what the labour is.
It is marvellous grace that plants the fear of the Lord in human hearts... Labour then will not be mere "works of the flesh," but work moved by the knowledge of God; and in feeding on His Word the soul is truly happy (v. 2): all is in proper order.
Commentators agree the full scene belongs to a coming age of peace on earth rather than to present conditions.
Verses 2 to 4 describe the blessings of the God-fearing man. With the Millennium in view, the blessings are of an earthly order, rather than heavenly as with the Christian. Such a man will be blessed in his labours, happy in his spirit, blessed in his circumstances, and in the relationships of life.
- Fear — the whole verse hangs on verse 1. The blessing belongs to everyone who fears the Lord and walks in His ways.
- Work — the fear of God turns labour from "works of the flesh" into work moved by the knowledge of God.
- Bread — the reward is ordinary and secure. You live on your own labour instead of watching an enemy carry it off.
- Well-being — the happiness here is an inward sense of God's favour. "It shall be well with you" adds the certain outcome of His government, even through sorrow and trial.
- Warning — this is not prosperity that feeds our desires. When believers set out to get on in the world for their own ends, God often deals with them in their circumstances.
Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine in the inner part of thy house; thy children like olive-plants round about thy table.
Psalm 128 draws a picture of ordinary life for the person who fears the Lord. Work that pays, a wife at the heart of the house, children around the table. Is this a promise every believing family can claim today? Or is it a picture of a coming age that still shows us what a home should be?
Verse 3 is not a standalone promise about marriage. It sits inside a short list of blessings that belong to one kind of person.
Verses 2 to 4 describe the blessings of the God-fearing man. The Millennium is in view, so the blessings are earthly ones, not the heavenly blessings the Christian has. Such a man will be blessed in his labours, happy in his spirit, blessed in his circumstances, and in the relationships of life.
The verse gives three pictures: a vine, young olive plants, and a table.
This verse gives us a beautiful picture of family life as God meant it to be. The outstanding feature of the vine is fruitfulness. The children being like olive plants would speak of prosperity and contentment. The table speaks of fellowship. A well-ordered home should show these features.
Why a vine and an olive, and not some other plant?
The reader will remember that verse 3 speaks of the blessing of the earthly people. Keeping this in mind, he will notice the matchless beauty of the pictures drawn from the vine and the olive. The fruit of the vine is said to cheer both the heart of God and man. The fatness of the olive shows the blessing and privileges of God's people on the earth. It is indeed an exquisite picture of a happy family.
Read on its own, the verse sounds like a promise of a comfortable life now. Writers tie it instead to the Millennium, the coming age when the Lord reigns from Mount Zion.
Their affairs will prosper, and their families will know God's blessing. But this is not the worldly prosperity we can see now. It is tied straight to the kingdom set up in power on Mount Zion.
Where does this fear of the Lord come from? And why is the picture unspoiled?
It is marvellous grace that plants the fear of the Lord in human hearts. Some do not have it, others do. But the blessing of it is wonderful, for it moves the heart to walk in the ways of the Lord — a precious privilege indeed. The context shows that this will be true in the millennium: the wife like a fruitful vine, the children like olive plants all around the table. In that day sin will spoil fruitfulness far less than it does now.
Commentators differ in emphasis here. Some keep the focus on the coming kingdom. Others say the picture still shapes what believing parents may hope for today.
Many believers today will appreciate it. What greater joy have they on earth, apart from the gathering of God's people, than to see harmony in their families? Their children grow up around their table, no seat yet empty, and all give promise of the work of the Spirit of God in their souls. And let it be said plainly: Christian heads of households have every right to look for the spiritual meaning of this picture of domestic peace and blessing to come true.
Whatever we take from the psalm now, it is not a shield against hardship.
It does not exclude persecution, nor does it exclude discipline and the exercise of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here. It does not mean prosperity that consists in getting what we want. It means prosperity that consists in the peaceful enjoyment of God's favour here below.
- Fear first. Everything here rests on one thing: the fear of the Lord. Grace plants that fear in the heart; effort does not produce it.
- Fear fills the house. From that root comes the home of verse 3: the wife fruitful, the children growing, the table shared. Fruitfulness, contentment and fellowship are the three marks of a well-ordered home.
- Fear borrows its images. The vine's fruit cheers the heart of God and man. The olive's fatness stands for the blessing and privileges of God's people on the earth.
- Fear waits for the kingdom. This is not the prosperity the world can display now. It belongs to the reign from Zion, when fruitfulness is no longer spoiled by sin.
- Fear walks in peace meanwhile. Today the promise is not escape from persecution or discipline, and not getting what we want. It is the quiet enjoyment of God's favour. Christian households may still look for something of this peace at home.
Behold, thus shall the man be blessed that feareth Jehovah.
Psalm 128 has just painted a short picture of ordinary life: work, home and family. Verse 4 stops and points at it with one word — "Behold." But what is the word pointing to: the quiet home just described, or the blessing that follows?
Commentators differ on which way this verse faces. One reading takes "Behold" as an announcement. On this view, verse 4 opens the closing section instead of ending the first.
The last three verses, we judge, go together. That is to say, verse 4 introduces verses 5 and 6 rather than summing up the first three. Its first word confirms this reading. "Behold," says the Psalmist, "thus — that is, in this manner — shall the man be blessed who fears the LORD." Then he goes on to explain the manner.
Others read it as a seal on what came before, gathering up the good things already listed.
Verses 2 to 4 describe the blessings of the God-fearing man. The coming age of Christ's reign on earth is in view, so the blessings are earthly, rather than heavenly as they are for the Christian. Such a man will be blessed in his work, happy in his spirit, blessed in his circumstances and in his relationships. "Thus shall the man be blessed who fears the LORD."
Either way, everything hangs on the phrase "who fears the LORD." One writer marks out that fear as much by what it is not as by what it is.
The first verse presents the spiritual condition and character of those who enjoy the favour of the Lord. They are marked by the fear of the Lord, and a practical walk in keeping with His ways. Their walk is not governed by the fear of man, nor by a legal fear of consequences. Their godly practice flows from a spiritual condition.
The psalm names two things, and the second grows out of the first.
"Fearing the Lord" describes a man who acts with a good conscience before Him… the one who with holy fear seeks grace to avoid everything that would grieve the Spirit of God. And "walking in His ways" points to the conduct that follows from fearing the Lord — a walk shaped and governed by the word of God.
But where does this fear come from? No one works it up in himself.
It is marvellous grace that plants the fear of the Lord in human hearts. Some do not have it, others do. But the blessing of this is wonderful, for it moves the heart to walk in the ways of the Lord. That is a precious privilege indeed. Labour then will not be mere "works of the flesh," but something moved by the knowledge of God.
The blessing in view is a settled, peaceful life on the earth — and the door into it is wider than one nation.
The general statement made here includes all in that day who fear the Lord. It takes in not the descendants of Israel only, but the foreigner who will have a portion in the land… How often had their fathers sown for others to reap! How often had the enemy invaded the land and carried off the produce of the soil! Their affairs shall prosper, and in their families God's blessing shall be known.
Read too fast, the verse can sound like a guarantee of comfort. One writer rules that out.
If the Lord's blessing alone can keep or give success, those who fear the Lord can count on it. And this is true. It does not rule out persecution, nor does it rule out discipline and the testing of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here… It does not mean a prosperity that consists in gratifying our desires. It means the peaceful enjoyment of God's favour here below.
The psalm ties a man's home to his fear of God. So it also gives a working picture of a husband and father.
In Psalm 128 the mark of an ideal husband is that he fears the Lord (vv. 1, 4). Because he fears the Lord his home is ordered… So there is a responsibility for every head of every home to fear the Lord. That means, I believe, obedience to the Lord, reverence for the Lord and subjection to His will.
- Behold. The word either seals the picture of home and work just given, or opens the blessing that follows. Commentators read it both ways.
- Fear. This fear is not fear of people, and not fear of punishment. It is a good conscience before God that shrinks from grieving Him.
- Grace. No one produces this fear in himself. Grace plants it. It then moves the heart into God's ways, so that even daily work changes character.
- Reach. The blessing is a settled, peaceful life on earth. It belongs to everyone who fears the Lord — foreigners in the land included, not one nation only.
- Result. It is not a promise of ease: persecution and discipline remain. It is the peaceful enjoyment of God's favour, showing itself first in an ordered home.
Jehovah will bless thee out of Zion; and mayest thou see the good of Jerusalem all the days of thy life,
Psalm 128 has just pictured a happy home: a man who fears the Lord, fed by his own work, with his family round the table. Verse 5 lifts the eye from that table to the city, and traces the blessing at home back to Zion.
Commentators link Zion to the throne of the coming King. Blessing from Zion means the promised kingdom has come.
It begins here: "The LORD bless you from Zion!" All Israel's blessing in a future day will come out of Zion. Zion will be the seat of the Lord's throne on earth. So the apostle writes, "The Deliverer will come from Zion, he will banish ungodliness from Jacob" (Romans 11:26). To be blessed out of Zion would therefore be the crown of all blessing for Israel. It will come with the reign of Messiah, and so will fulfil the glowing predictions of the prophets.
The same blessing reaches down into the home.
If the God-fearing man is blessed like this, he is always to remember that his blessing comes from the Lord. It flows from Zion as the centre of blessing for the earth. When the Lord rules from Zion, Jerusalem will prosper and Israel will be at peace.
Why should one man's joy rise and fall with a city? Because God has shaped his affections after His own.
Notice here the true mark of healthy godliness — being in communion with the heart of God. The Lord has set His affections on Jerusalem. So everyone who fears Him and walks in His ways will also love Jerusalem. He therefore promises that such a person will see the good of Jerusalem all the days of his life. That promise is a blessed answer from the Lord's heart to a desire in His people which He Himself had created. To understand this for ourselves, we only have to put the Church in place of Jerusalem.
The verse assumes long days. One writer reads it beside a promise in Isaiah about life in that age.
Verse 5 shows this to be true above all in that coming day. Zion is the special name given to Jerusalem in the day of her great restoration. "May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life." And life then will not be short. Isaiah says, "like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be" (Isaiah 65:22) — that is, a thousand years.
One writer pictures the home this promise fills, then asks whether Israel's past ever matched it.
This Psalm lets us, so to speak, look inside the house. The wife and the children are all there. No gaps in the family circle, no memory of someone once there and there no longer. Death has not entered. Not a chair, not a place once filled and now seen to be empty. With the Lord living in Zion, these words become plain. Yet from the death of Solomon until the days of Titus, could that have been the people's portion in full?
The psalm speaks to one person — "you" — yet the door stands wide. What qualifies a person is fear of the Lord, not ancestry.
The psalm declares these blessings to be the portion of whoever fears the Lord. It is present blessing on earth — blessings out of Zion. And it is the desire of the godly heart: Jerusalem in prosperity all their days. This speaks directly to the faithful remnant of Israel. Even so, the godly Gentile who fears the Lord in this way, owning Israel's God, would in principle enjoy the blessing and rejoice with His people.
So does the psalm leave a reader today with nothing? The fear of God still marks out a road, though not a smooth one.
If the Lord's blessing alone can keep us or give success, then those who fear Him can count on it. And this is true. It does not rule out persecution, nor does it rule out discipline and the testing of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here. This is not prosperity that feeds our own desires, but the peaceful enjoyment of God's favour here below. But there is one joy above all others, spoken of here as the fruit of godliness — seeing the Lord's people, and the Lord's dwelling, in prosperity and peace, clearly blessed by God. As far as this world goes, this is the highest and most constant wish of the heart.
- Source — The blessing at the table starts at the throne. It flows out of Zion, so no one can credit his own hands.
- Scope — What starts at Zion reaches the home: work that pays, a full table, no empty chairs.
- Condition — Fear of the Lord and walking in His ways mark the blessed man, not ancestry. So the promise reaches the outsider who owns Israel's God.
- Affection — Loving the city God loves is the test of real godliness. The promise to see its good answers a desire God planted first.
- Timing — Commentators place the full picture in the future, under Messiah's reign. Yet the fear of God puts a person on the path of peace today.
And see thy children's children. Peace be upon Israel!
Psalm 128 ends by pushing its blessing past the God-fearing man's own table — first to his grandchildren, then to the whole nation. Two questions follow: when is such a promise kept, and why does it close with peace for a nation?
The psalm has already described a wife and sons around the table. The final verse extends the same favour one more generation. One writer ties it to a promise God made when He gave the law.
The promised blessing widens further still: "Yes, may you see your children's children." So God's favour will rest on the descendants of His people. He promised this when He gave the law — "showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments." This is the conclusion, as we understand the Psalms, of the true Israelite's blessing.
Seeing your grandchildren takes a long life. One writer links the psalm to the day of Jerusalem's restoration, and to Isaiah's promise about how long life will be then.
Zion is the special name given to Jerusalem in the day of her great restoration. "May you see the good of Jerusalem all the days of your life." And life then will not be short, "for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be" (Isa. 65:22), that is, 1000 years. Well indeed it might be said, "Yes, may you see your children's children" (v. 6). "Peace be upon Israel."
The picture is a home. One writer points to what is missing from it: the grief that touches every family today.
This Psalm (128:3-6) allows us, so to speak, a look inside the house. The wife and the children are all there. No gaps in the family circle, no memory of someone once there but there no longer. Death has not entered it. Not a chair, not a place once filled and now seen to be empty.
Nothing in this picture is self-made. Verses 5 and 6 trace it all back to one source.
If the God-fearing man is blessed like this, he is always to remember that his blessing comes from the Lord. It flows from Zion, the centre of blessing for the earth. When the Lord rules from Zion, Jerusalem will prosper and Israel will be at peace.
Since the psalm names Zion, writers read it as a coming reign on earth, not a picture of heaven.
"A song of the ascents." It is millennial blessedness on earth, when Christ reigns and blesses out of Zion. To interpret it of heaven or the church is to deny the kingdom yet to be restored to Israel.
Some translations add the word "and" before the closing line. One writer sets it aside and reads the last clause on its own.
As you may notice, the word "and" after "children" is an addition. Leaving it out, we read the last clause, with many others, as "Peace be upon Israel." If we accept that, it is very beautiful, because the Psalm starts with divine blessing and closes with divine peace. What an opening into the heart of God this gives us! And if He wants peace to rest on His own, we too should pray and work toward it.
Commentators differ on how far to carry the psalm into the present. Some apply it directly: put the Church where Jerusalem stands. Then the psalm becomes a test of our own affections.
To understand this for ourselves we only have to put the Church where Jerusalem stands. The Church is the dearest object of the heart of Christ, for He loved the Church and gave Himself for it. So any of us may be active, and may look full of zeal and devotion. Yet we cannot be in communion with the heart of Christ unless the Church is also the supreme object of our affections. Let us not shrink from how searching this test is.
Others take the practical line: the promise does not guarantee an easy life now, but it does mark out a road.
If only the Lord's blessing can keep or give success, then those who fear the Lord can count on it. And this is true. It does not rule out persecution, nor does it rule out discipline and the testing of faith. But when we walk in the fear of God, we are in the path of peace even here.
- Blessed — the psalm opens with God's blessing on the man who fears the Lord. Every good thing that follows grows from that root.
- Given — the favour is not earned by the family; it flows out of Zion, the centre from which the Lord blesses when He reigns.
- Widening — the blessing moves out from his own table to his children's children. It matches God's promise of steadfast love to thousands who love Him.
- Whole — the household in view has no empty chair and no absent face, a family circle death has not entered.
- Peace — the psalm begins in blessing and ends in peace. The closing line reaches past one home to cover the whole nation.
(A Song of degrees.) Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth -- oh let Israel say --
The psalm opens with a nation looking back over its whole story and summing it up in one sentence: they have been attacked, again and again, for as long as they have existed. The phrase "from my youth" fixes a starting date, and commentators trace it to the nation's earliest days.
One writer dates that youth to the exodus. He notes that the memory of sorrow returns just as Israel's coming blessing is announced:
How naturally the bright prospect of the future, and the announcement of the coming blessing to Israel, bring back the sorrow of the past! "Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth" — let Israel now say — that is, from the exodus out of Egypt under Moses. The Babylonian, the Roman and the Assyrian powers used their full might against the people and left Jerusalem in ruins. Yet the nation will prove to have survived the heaviest blows.
The verse names the attackers only as "they," and gives no reason for the attacks. One writer points to other Scriptures for the reason:
The expression "from my youth" appears in the first two verses. It refers to Israel's earliest days, the beginning of their history in the land of Egypt. Tracing their course all down the centuries, they have to admit that their enemies afflicted them many a time. Almost every historical book of the Old Testament records their sorrows and chastenings from this source. And why all this affliction? Scripture after scripture declares that it was because of their disobedience and rebellion, their refusal to submit to the Lord their Redeemer.
The nation speaks here as one person — "me," not "us." One writer hears two things in that word: One who suffered along with Israel, and the Spirit teaching them to recognise God's ways:
They could only lie down while the enemy who had enslaved them did what he liked with them. Yet, wonderful mystery, that enemy had not prevailed against them. But there was One who said "Me" for them — One who in all their afflictions was afflicted. His Spirit now taught them to speak as people who recognised the ways of God.
The next line of the psalm answers this one: the attacks were many, but none of them worked. One writer points to Israel's survival as the wonder:
Human wickedness has invented every kind of cruelty in the attempt to wipe them out. Yet Israel can say, "They have not prevailed against me." Powerful nations and worldwide empires have hated and opposed them, yet they have been preserved. The empires that opposed them have decayed and passed away. They are a mere handful among the great mass of mankind. Still they have kept their nationhood, preserved their traditions, and remained a separate people.
Another writer reads David's own life behind the words. He also says what will finally end Israel's affliction, and pictures how the nation has taken the blows:
The name of David does not appear in the heading of Psalm 129, but its contents seem to point to him as the human author. How many times was he afflicted from his youth up! Much afflicted indeed, yet his enemies never prevailed against him. What he could say about his troubles, Israel will be able to say too, for in this respect his life summed up their national history. They will never be out of affliction until they humble themselves and make a place for the Lord by enthroning Him in Zion, in the person of the once-rejected Jesus… The nations have been like hammers striking an anvil. Like an anvil, Israel has outlasted her persecutors, and will outlast those who strike her today.
Commentators differ on whose voice speaks here. Hole hears David; others hear Israel reviewing its national past.
The psalm remembers trouble rather than reporting it live. One writer draws out what that backward look is worth to anyone who can trace a hard road already travelled:
The soul looks back and sees God's faithful dealings all along the road — a blessed thought! How sweet it is to turn back and see this. We had to walk by faith, and it seemed as though He did not see. Yet all the while the eye of the Lord waited on us and ordered everything!… Here the psalm looks at sorrow and trial, the hostility of God's enemies against God's people. But it was in vain. Even if He had chastised, God had been faithful.
- Youth — the clock starts at the exodus out of Egypt. The affliction is as old as the nation itself.
- Cause — the long record of attacks was not random. Scripture traces it to disobedience and refusal to submit to the Lord.
- Voice — Israel speaks as one "me." Behind that word stands One who in all their affliction was afflicted, whose Spirit taught them to read God's ways.
- Outcome — the enemies never prevailed. Empires decayed while a handful survived, an anvil outlasting the hammers.
- Retrospect — Israel recites the sorrow from the far side of rescue. Looking back is how they see God's faithfulness the whole road through.
Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth; yet they have not prevailed against me.
Psalm 129 looks back from the edge of blessing: before the nation rests in peace, it counts up how often enemies hurt it. Verse 2 repeats that complaint, then breaks it with one word — "yet" — and everything turns there.
The song dates the trouble not from one invasion but from the nation's beginning. One writer puts a date and a list of names to it:
"Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth" — let Israel now say — that is, from the exodus from Egypt under Moses. The Babylonian, the Roman and the Assyrian powers used their might against the people, and left Jerusalem in ruins. But the nation will be found to have survived the heaviest blows. And, knowing that they would soon enjoy the millennial blessing, they add, "but they shall not prevail against me" (older wording; the ESV reads "yet they have not prevailed against me").
The psalm does not explain the affliction. The rest of the Old Testament does, and one commentator presses the question.
And why were they afflicted like this? Scripture after scripture proclaims the reason: their disobedience and rebellion. They refused to live in obedience to the Lord their Redeemer. "If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then… I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people. … But if you will not listen to me and will not do all these commandments… I will set my face against you, and you shall be struck down before your enemies" (Leviticus 26).
The same writer sees this rule at work beyond Israel:
The same is true for Christians as for Israel, for the principles of God's government of His people are the same in all ages.
They recall the suffering here for a purpose. Dennett shows that the enemies were God's instrument, but never His last word:
Here, though, they recall their sorrows in order to magnify the faithfulness of God. After speaking of the afflictions they had suffered from their enemies, they add, "Yet they have not prevailed against me." The prophets are full of this blessed truth. God allowed, and indeed sent, nation after nation to overcome and chastise His rebellious people. Yet He never wholly gave them up. He watched over them with infinite tenderness and longing of heart, and He stepped in again and again to help them for His own name's sake. For example, we read that "the LORD saw that the affliction of Israel was very bitter." But the LORD "had not said that he would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven." So "he saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash" (2 Kings 14:26-27).
The claim of verse 2 is not only a matter of faith. The record of the centuries tests it.
Human wickedness has tried every atrocity it could invent to wipe them out. Yet Israel can say, "They have not prevailed against me." Powerful nations and worldwide empires have hated and opposed them, yet they have been preserved. The empires that opposed them have fallen into decay and passed away. They are only a handful among the great mass of mankind. Still they have kept their nationhood, preserved their traditions, and remained a separate people.
Behind the survival stands a Person, not a national talent for endurance:
They could only lie down and let the enemy who had enslaved them do whatever he wanted. Yet — wonderful mystery — these enemies had not prevailed against them. But there was One who said He was for them — One who in all their affliction was afflicted. His Spirit now taught them to speak as people who recognised God's ways.
The psalm's heading gives no name. Commentators differ on the voice: most hear the nation, while one hears David, whose own life matched it:
How many times was he afflicted from his youth up! He was much afflicted, yet his enemies never prevailed against him. Israel will be able to say about their troubles what he said about his. In this respect his life summed up their national history. And they will never be out of affliction until they humble themselves and make room for the Lord by enthroning Him in Zion, in the person of the once-rejected Jesus. Again and again through the centuries nations have plowed and made long furrows upon the back of Israel and looked like prevailing against them. They never have. They have been like hammers striking an anvil. Like an anvil, Israel has outlasted her persecutors, and will outlast those who strike her today.
- Youth — the trouble starts in the nation's earliest days in Egypt. The story is one long line of enemies who came and went.
- Cause — the blows were not random. Disobedience brought them, just as Leviticus 26 warned.
- Yet — God sent nation after nation to chastise His people. He never wholly gave them up, and He stepped in again and again for His own name's sake.
- Evidence — the empires that plowed Israel's back have decayed and gone. The small, scattered people they attacked are still here.
- Reason — no enemy won, because One said He was for them, One afflicted in all their affliction. Hammers break; the anvil remains — and the affliction ends when Israel enthrones the once-rejected Jesus in Zion.
The ploughers ploughed upon my back; they made long their furrows.
Psalm 129 opens with Israel looking back over a long history of pain. Verse 3 gives that history one brutal picture: a back torn open like a field under the plough. It raises two questions. Who drove the plough? And whose back is really in view?
The picture comes from the field, and it measures the wounds as well as describing them.
The illustration in this verse only deepens the picture of their past sufferings. The plowers are named in verse 3 because, as the plough tears the earth, so the whip tears up the back. Long furrows will therefore mean long stripes and wounds. A striking comment on this description can be quoted from Isaiah: "Why will you still be struck down? … From the sole of the foot even to the head, there is no soundness in it, but bruises and sores and raw wounds." (Isa. 1:5-6.)
The ploughing was not one event. It began in Egypt and ran on for centuries. Yet the plowers never finished the job.
Looking back over the past, Israel may say that the nations of the world have afflicted them from the time of the nation's childhood in Egypt. That was when their history as a distinct nation began… Human wickedness has tried every atrocity it could devise to wipe them out. The plowers have indeed plowed his back and made long their furrows. Yet Israel can say, "They have not prevailed against me." Powerful nations and world-wide empires have hated and opposed them, yet they have been preserved. The empires that opposed them have decayed and passed away.
The nations were not acting alone.
The prophets are full of this blessed truth: while God allowed, and even sent, nation after nation to overcome and chastise His rebellious people, He never wholly gave them up. He watched over them with endless tenderness and longing of heart, and stepped in again and again to help them, for His own name's sake.
Commentators differ on where the weight of these opening verses falls. One reading traces the wounds back to Israel's own disobedience.
And why did all this affliction come on them? Scripture after scripture says it was because of their disobedience and rebellion. They refused to walk in subjection to Jehovah their Redeemer. "If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then … I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people… But if you will not listen to me and will not do all these commandments … I will set my face against you, and you shall be struck down before your enemies. Those who hate you shall rule over you, and you shall flee when none pursues you." (Lev. 26.)
Another reading agrees that Israel's own way brought the trouble. But it says these verses look elsewhere.
The look back over Israel's history in verses 1-3 is not about the nation's conduct as the professed people of God. Their own way did bring these afflictions on them at the hand of the enemy. But what these verses review is the long-standing, bitter injury and reproach cast on them by their godless enemies. Those enemies served Jehovah's purpose without knowing it, and He used them as the rod of His displeasure to chasten His own people. Yet they thought highly of their own power and credited their greatness to themselves.
The picture does not stop with Israel.
While this may be figurative for Israel, it was literal for the Lord Jesus… Certainly the Lord Jesus Himself bore far more than Israel suffered.
Man's whip was not the worst of it.
They ploughed long furrows on His back, scourging Him with a bone- or metal-tipped whip (Psalm 129:3; Matt. 27:26). That was terrible. But what Isaiah 53:5 refers to was far more terrible. It describes the judgment God laid on Him because of the sins He was bearing… Keep in mind that where the emphasis is on what Christ suffered from men, the outcome is always judgment on men (e.g. Psalm 69). But where the emphasis is on what He suffered from God for sin and sins, the outcome is blessing to men (e.g. Psalm 22).
Survival is not the same as rest. The wounds go on until Israel gives the rejected One His place.
Again and again through the centuries, nations have plowed and made long furrows upon the back of Israel. They looked like they were prevailing over Israel. They never have. They have been like hammers striking an anvil. Like an anvil, Israel has outlasted her persecutors, and will outlast those who strike her today… They will never be out of affliction until they humble themselves and make room for the Lord. That means enthroning Him in Zion, in the person of the once-rejected Jesus.
- Furrow — a plough tears soil as a whip tears a back. Long furrows mean long wounds.
- Plowers — from Egypt onward, empire after empire cut into this nation. Every one has now decayed and gone.
- Cause — writers differ. Some point to Israel's own disobedience under Leviticus 26. Others say these verses review the enemies' cruelty, even though Israel's way brought it on.
- Fulfilment — Israel's figure became fact for Jesus under the scourge. He bore far more.
- Outcome — the stripes from men bring judgment on men; the judgment He bore from God brings blessing to men.
Jehovah is righteous he hath cut asunder the cords of the wicked.
Psalm 129 looks back over Israel's long history of suffering at the hands of enemies. In verse 4 that look becomes a verdict: God is righteous — and the same righteousness explains both the long years of pain and the moment of rescue.
The verse does not accuse God for the wounds described just before it. It clears Him.
But if Israel has endured these bitter sorrows under the rod of their enemies, they now confess that the Lord is righteous. In one word they justify God for all His past dealings with them. By saying this they admit that they had only received what they deserved. Nehemiah said, "You have been righteous in all that has come upon us, for you have dealt faithfully and we have acted wickedly." So now Israel owns that God has been righteous in all His ways. This is the place of all blessing, both for sinners and believers. When the awakened soul justifies God and condemns himself — as the dying criminal on the cross did — forgiveness and blessing are near. And when a believer under God's discipline justifies God, the end is reached. He has "heard" the rod, and the One who appointed it.
God's righteousness is not seen only in the rescue.
Israel's own unrighteousness may have called for their afflictions under God's government. Still, the righteousness of the Lord had not allowed the nations to prevail against Israel. So they own, "The Lord is righteous." They justify the Lord in all His dealings, whether in allowing their afflictions, in preserving them in their afflictions, or finally cutting apart the cords of the wicked and setting them free from their enemies (Jer. 30:8-9).
The second half of the verse turns to the rescue itself.
Israel may be celebrating the Lord's righteousness not only in His past dealings with them, but also in their present deliverance, for they add that He has cut the cords of the wicked. The "cords" of the wicked mean the bondage in which the wicked held Israel. In Psalm 2 the kings and rulers of the earth take counsel together against the Lord and against His anointed. They say, "Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us." Those are the bands and cords in which God held and restrained them. What Israel then proclaims is that God has set them free from their slavery and servitude, and given them liberty in their own land for His service.
The plowing in verse 3 did real damage. Yet a plowed field is where a crop begins.
He may be acting with the enemies of His people, but He is not Himself an enemy. Israel may look back over her long afflictions and see how men brought them on her. Yet they never prevailed. They have not done what they intended; and they have done what they never intended. They have been like plowers plowing on the back — painful and humiliating work enough. But it still means sowing and harvest. And the plow is set aside even before that. He who uses it for good, sets it aside too, to have the good.
The reason the oppressors never won was not Israel's strength. Someone stood on their side while they lay helpless.
They could only lie down and let the enemy who had enslaved them do whatever he wanted. Yet, wonderful mystery, these had not prevailed against them. But there was One who said He was for them — One who in all their affliction was afflicted. His Spirit now taught them to speak with understanding of the ways of God. And here is the sum of it: Israel, through mercy, now stood in righteousness.
Any believer can do what this verse does: turn around and read the road already travelled.
How sweet it is to look back and see that the eye of the Lord has watched over us without a break and ordered all things! At the time we had to walk by faith, and it seemed as though He did not see. ... Even if He had chastened them, God had been faithful. Now He had shown His righteousness — faithful to His own ways and promises, to the expectation He had raised, and to the trust He had called for. He had cut apart the cords of the wicked. We may expect it. He will chasten if needed, though He does not afflict willingly; but He will make good the expectation of faith.
- Righteous — one word covers the whole story. God allowed the affliction, refused to let enemies win, and cut the cords at last.
- Justify — clearing God and condemning self is where blessing begins, for sinner and believer alike.
- Cords — God cuts the ropes of slavery and gives freedom for service in their own land.
- Plow — enemies did what they never intended. Their furrows mean sowing and harvest, and then the plow is set aside.
- Look back — what looked like God not watching was His eye ordering everything. Faith can expect Him to keep His word.
Let them be ashamed and turned backward, all that hate Zion;
Psalm 129 remembers a long history of attacks on Israel — plowmen cutting long furrows across her back. Verse 5 turns from memory to prayer, and asks God to deal with those who hate Zion.
This prayer is not wounded pride. It rests on what the psalm has just said: the Lord is righteous.
(vv. 5-8) Based on the truth that the Lord is righteous in all His dealings, the godly remnant look for the final defeat of their enemies. They view the wicked not only as the opposers of Israel, but as the haters of Zion. Behind the hatred of Israel is the hatred of the Lord and His centre of rule for the earth.
Zion is more than a city on a map.
The second part of the Psalm begins with verse 5. In it Israel asks for the confusion and defeat of the haters of Zion. To understand this, keep in mind that the haters of Zion are God's enemies. Zion has now (in these Psalms) become the place where Jehovah lives, and the seat of His throne… So to hate Zion was to stand in complete opposition to God, and to His purposes of blessing for His people.
The Lord had tied Himself to Zion in grace. That bond shows what these enemies really are.
Their character was now brought out: they hate Zion, with which the Lord in grace was identified. But there was no blessing from God or man on them, while Israel would blossom and bud and fill the face of the world with fruit.
The psalm's confidence is not theory. Israel's attackers have failed before, and one writer traces that record back to David.
The name of David does not appear at the head of this Psalm, but its contents seem to point to him as its human author. How many times was he afflicted from his youth up! Much afflicted indeed, yet his adversaries never prevailed against him. What he could say about his troubles Israel will also be able to say, for in this way his life summed up their national history. They will never be out of affliction until they humble themselves and make a place for the Lord by enthroning Him in Zion, in the person of the once-rejected Jesus… Again and again through the centuries, nations have plowed long furrows on Israel's back and looked as if they were winning. They never have. They have been like hammers striking an anvil. Like an anvil, Israel has outlasted her persecutors, and will outlast those who strike her today.
after-reason: n/a As verse 5 shows, all those who hate Zion will be confounded and turned back.
Verse 5 sounds like a wish. One writer reads it as prophecy as well as prayer.
So the psalmist prophesies and prays for the destruction of the wicked at the hands of the righteous God. He sees their cords cut apart. He prays that those who hate Zion may be turned back in shame — for in hating Zion they hate the purposes of grace tied to it. They are like grass on the housetops, which withers before men think enough of it to pull it up. It never gives a handful to the mower or an armful to the binder. So let them be under the ban of God, cut off from Jehovah's blessing. So indeed must evil, as evil, find its doom from God.
Can a Christian pray this way? One writer refuses to call the psalm wrong, but marks a difference:
Far be it from us to say that the Psalms are not right. This is what marked out the saints in Israel of old. It will mark them out again in their midst when the former dominion comes with even greater glory in the day of the Lord… But we are called out meanwhile from Jews and Gentiles, and we make up the one body of Christ. We have the privilege and the duty of showing the grace of Him Who suffered for us, who left us an example that we should follow His steps.
Yet the principle behind the verse still stands. Dennett brings it into the present:
What would answer to it now would be to hate the Church of the living God. As we may see in the case of Saul of Tarsus, to hold hatred against believers was to cherish enmity against Christ. He not only identifies Himself with His own, but, since they are united to Him by the Holy Spirit, He regards them as a part of Himself, members of His body. This explains the question He put to Saul, "Why are you persecuting Me?"
- Cause: God's righteousness — verse 5 rests on the line before it, not on personal revenge.
- Target: hating Zion is hating God — Zion is where He lives and rules, so to oppose it is to oppose His plans.
- Grace: the Lord tied Himself to Zion in grace — so its haters stand exposed, with no blessing from God or man.
- Proof: nations plowed Israel for centuries and never destroyed her — an anvil outlasting the hammers.
- Result: the haters end like grass on a roof — withered early, no harvest, under God's ban. Christians await that righteous end while showing the grace of the One who suffered for them.
Let them be as the grass upon the house-tops, which withereth before it is plucked up,
Psalm 129 looks back on long years of affliction. In its closing verses the people turn to those who hate Zion, and ask that they end up like a patch of grass on a roof. Why that weed?
The picture starts with the roof itself.
Verse 6 refers to roofs covered with sod, where grass might begin to grow. But it quickly withers. In the same way, the ungodly will seem to prosper at first, but very soon wither to nothing.
So the grass does appear. Then it is gone.
This picture appears elsewhere in Scripture. One writer explains what the withering stands for.
Isaiah uses the same picture of grass on the housetops to show God's judgment on His enemies. He says, "like plants of the field and like tender grass, like grass on the housetops, blighted before it is grown" (Isaiah 37:27). It is a figure to show the effect of judgment upon the haters of Zion. Under the wrath of God, it would soon be clear that they were cut off from the sources of nourishment and life. So they would wither away like grass that has no depth of soil. There would be no fruit, then, for God or man — nothing for the mower or for the binder of the sheaves.
Judgment here is a cutting off from what feeds life. The withering follows on its own.
The psalm names these enemies with care. They are more than Israel's opponents.
The Lord is righteous in all His dealings. Resting on that truth, the godly remnant look for the final defeat of their enemies. They view the wicked not merely as the opposers of Israel, but as the haters of Zion. Behind the hatred of Israel is the hatred of the Lord and His centre of rule for the earth. Let such be like the withered grass on the housetops, useless for man, and unblessed by the Lord (compare Ruth 2:4).
Now set the roof grass beside what God intends for Israel.
But no blessing would come to them from God or man. Israel, meanwhile, would blossom and bud and fill the face of the world with fruit. No mower would fill his hand with them, nor any passer-by say, "The blessing of Jehovah be upon you."
Two harvests, one season. The field fills the mower's hand; the roof gives nothing.
Two writers apply the verse to what people count on. First, the confidence of the proud:
He will discipline if needed, though He does not afflict willingly. But He will make good the expectation of faith. He will deliver and bless. And the expectation of the proud will be like the grass on the housetop.
The other applies it to anything built on feeling rather than on God's word:
In the long run it becomes clear. You cannot build safely on experience with little or no real foundation of Scripture beneath it. It reminds us of the verse, "Let them be like the grass on the housetops, which withers before it grows up" (Ps. 129:6).
- Root. The grass on the roof has no depth of soil; it is cut off from the sources of life, and the withering follows from that.
- Rise. It does grow — briefly. The ungodly "seem to prosper at first, but very soon wither to nothing."
- Reach. Their real target is Zion — and so the Lord Himself and His centre of rule on earth.
- Reaping. Nothing fills the mower's hand from a roof. Israel, meanwhile, blossoms and buds and fills the face of the world with fruit.
- Rest. Anything on shallow ground ends the same way — the hope of the proud, or faith resting on experience instead of Scripture. Build where there is soil.
Wherewith the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom;
Psalm 129 looks back on long, bitter suffering and then turns to the fate of Israel's enemies. Verse 7 finishes a picture begun a line earlier: grass on a rooftop that leaves the harvesters with nothing to gather.
Roofs in that land carried a layer of sod, and grass could start to grow on them.
Verse 6 refers to roofs covered with sod, where grass might begin to grow. It withers fast. In the same way, the wicked will look as if they prosper at first, but very soon they wither to nothing.
Grass on a roof has no depth of soil under it.
Isaiah uses the same picture of grass on the housetops to show God's judgment on His enemies. He says they had become "like plants of the field and like tender grass, like grass on the housetops, blighted before it is grown" (Isaiah 37:27). It is a figure to show the effect of judgment upon the haters of Zion. Under the wrath of God, it would soon be clear that they were cut off from the sources of nourishment and life. So they would wither away like grass that has no depth of soil. There would be no fruit, then, for God or man — nothing for the mower or for the binder of the sheaves.
The psalm does not aim at the enemies of a nation only. It names these enemies by what they hate.
The Lord is righteous in all His dealings. On that truth, the godly remnant look for the final defeat of their enemies. They see the wicked not just as those who oppose Israel, but as the haters of Zion. Behind the hatred of Israel is the hatred of the Lord and His centre of rule for the earth. Let such be like the withered grass on the housetops, useless for man, and unblessed by the Lord.
Zion was no ordinary city by this point in the psalms.
Zion has now, in these Psalms, become the dwelling place of Jehovah and the seat of His throne... So to hate Zion was to stand in complete opposition to God, and to His purposes of blessing for His people.
Verse 7 reads as a prayer, not a threat. It rests on the righteousness of God.
So the psalmist prophesies and prays for the destruction of the wicked at the hands of the righteous God. He sees their cords cut apart. He prays that those who hate Zion may be turned back in shame — for in hating Zion they hate the purposes of grace that belong to it. Let them be like grass on the housetops, which withers before anyone thinks it worth pulling up. It never gives a handful to the mower or an armful to the binder. So let them lie under God's curse, outside Jehovah's blessing. Evil, just because it is evil, must meet its doom from God.
The empty hand of the reaper stands against what God will do for His own people.
Their true character now came out: they hate Zion, and Jehovah in His grace had now joined Himself to Zion. But no blessing from God or man would rest on them, at the very time when Israel would blossom and bud and fill the face of the world with fruit. No mower would fill his hand with them, and no passerby would say, "The blessing of the LORD be upon you!"
Samuel Ridout turns the same image into a caution for anyone who makes a quick, shallow start.
We need not be surprised at the huge number of empty professions of faith. Like the seed on stony ground, they soon wither away — "with which the reaper does not fill his hand nor the binder of sheaves his arms." And even where grace has worked, if the response to it is only partial, how weak the testimony and the walk turn out to be.
Commentators differ in emphasis here. Most read verse 7 as the coming judgment on those who hate Zion. Ridout uses it as a picture of shallow profession with no lasting fruit.
- Root. Rooftop grass grows on shallow earth, cut off from the sources of nourishment and life — that is why it dies.
- Show. The wicked may look as if they prosper at first, but they wither to nothing before anyone thinks them worth pulling up.
- Harvest. No root means no harvest: nothing for the mower's hand, nothing for the binder's arms, no fruit for God or man.
- Blessing. Those under God's judgment get no blessing from God or man. At the same time, Israel blossoms and buds and fills the world with fruit.
- Warning. Empty professions of faith run the same course. A quick green start, then withering, and nothing left to gather.
Neither do the passers-by say, The blessing of Jehovah be upon you; we bless you in the name of Jehovah!
This song of Israel's long suffering does not close with a curse shouted at her enemies. It closes with a silence. The ordinary greeting called across a harvest field is never spoken. To feel the weight of that last line, you have to know what the greeting was, and why no passer-by will say it.
The words were a real custom, heard between an owner and his workers as he came into the field. Boaz greeting his reapers is the picture behind the Psalm:
Boaz comes from Bethlehem and calls out the blessing of the harvest to his servants (Ps. 129:8).
Another writer notes what the exchange shows about master and workers:
And now notice the closeness between the master and the servants. "And Boaz said to the reapers, 'The LORD be with you,' and they answered him, 'The LORD bless you.'" It is beautiful. There is perfect fellowship between the Lord and the reapers.
The greeting belongs to a real harvest. Grass on a roof has no depth of soil under it. So there is nothing for the reaper or the binder of sheaves, and no one calls out a blessing over it.
This is in contrast to the fruitfulness of grass growing in good soil. That fruitfulness is a full reward for the work of the reaper or the binder of sheaves. But those who make a good show at first and then wither away cannot expect onlookers to say to them, "The blessing of the LORD be upon you! We bless you in the name of the LORD!" (v. 8).
The two halves of the loss are worth holding together — no use to people, and no word from God:
Let such be like the withered grass on the housetops, useless for man, and unblessed by the Lord (compare Ruth 2:4).
The blessing is withheld from one group: those who hate Zion. That hatred reaches further than it looks:
To hate Zion, then, was to stand in complete opposition to God, and to His purposes of blessing for His people. What would match it now would be to hate the Church of the living God. We may see this in the case of Saul of Tarsus: to hold hatred against believers was to cherish enmity against Christ.
Their long campaign against Israel achieves nothing in the end:
They hated Zion which the LORD chose and loved; and their devastations were as cruel as they were fruitless, useless for destroying, as the end will show in that day.
The verse sets two harvests side by side:
But there was no blessing from God or man upon them, when Israel would blossom and bud and fill the face of the world with fruit. No mower would fill his hand with them, nor would any passer-by say, "The blessing of the LORD be upon you."
The wicked had prospered for a long time before this point, which makes the ending sharper:
For a long time the wicked prospered on earth, and set himself against the purposes of God. Now the end appears, and the wicked pass away undesired and unblessed.
The Psalm belongs to a coming day of judgment, not to this one — and commentators draw a careful line between the two. We may pray for those still hostile, while refusing to wish success on hostility itself.
It is now the day of grace, and we can and should pray for those whom the god of this world has blinded, but we could not desire their blessing while they are in a state of active hostility toward the Lord and His people. So the apostle John writes, "If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching [the true teaching about the Person of Christ], do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works." (2 John 10, 11.)
- No root. Grass on a roof shoots up fast and dies fast, because nothing feeds it.
- No crop. No root means no crop — nothing for the reaper, nothing for the binder of sheaves. Such grass is "useless for man, and unblessed by the Lord."
- No greeting. The harvest blessing was a real custom, called out by Boaz to his reapers. Here nobody says it, and the silence is the judgment.
- The reason. These are the people who hate Zion. Hating God's people is enmity against God Himself.
- Today. This is still the day of grace. We pray for those who are blinded, without wishing success on their war against the Lord.
(A Song of degrees.) Out of the depths do I call upon thee, Jehovah.
Psalm 130 opens with a man sunk so low that all he can do is call upward. What are these "depths"? Does a person in them have any right to expect God to listen?
The psalm before this one looked outward at what Israel suffered from others. This one turns the gaze inward.
Psalm 129 reviewed the outward afflictions of Israel in the presence of the righteousness of the Lord. Psalm 130 describes the inward distress of soul because of sins seen in the light of the mercy of the Lord.
That shift makes this a worse trouble than persecution, because the pain now comes from within.
In this psalm it is not enemies that cause the cry of distress, but it is worse, for it is out of the depths the psalmist cries to God (v. 1). The depths have to do with his own sin, for God makes us more deeply feel this than opposition from without. For it is well said that our worst enemy is ourselves.
Read the first verses together and you hear a particular kind of voice — someone who has stopped defending himself.
David's afflictions increased until he was brought into the depths — not merely of trouble but of repentance. If the first three verses of Psalm 130 be attentively read, it will be seen that here we have the language of a repentant man, who knew he could not stand in the presence of the Lord as the marker of iniquities.
The opening words sound like the end of hope. Commentators read them the opposite way — as the doorway.
But it is the one thing needed if we are to enjoy God's favour. What had brought Israel into the depths? It was their sins, their iniquities. There can never be hope for anyone until they, like Israel, come to feel and own their guilt. So the depths are a blessed place, when they are the result of the Spirit of God's work… The deeper a soul goes down before God under the sense of its sin, the more certain it is to enter a great and glorious deliverance. So let no one ever try to cut short this work in a soul that feels its sin. We can never feel too deeply how sinful sin is.
Being low is not the turning point. What matters is where the cry goes.
Though Israel was in the depths, he turned to the Lord. This is the blessed fruit of grace. It was the same with the tax collector. He felt his utter unworthiness so deeply that he would not even lift his eyes to heaven, yet he beat his breast and cried, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner." … This is the sure pathway to blessing. As soon as the sinner's eye turns to the Lord, faith has sprung up in the soul, however weak it is, and the light of the coming day has already begun to drive away the darkness that had wrapped around it.
Some despair only fears punishment. This cry is different, and the difference goes deep.
But this is not just distress under the law. Confidence in Jehovah marks it, though deep distress and humiliation go with it. This is what happens when the sense of sin and the sense of mercy meet in the soul. Distress under law alone is more selfish in its terror, though it is good at destroying confidence in self and throwing the soul on mercy. Conviction joined with a sense of mercy feels more that it has wronged the God of goodness. It is a deeper work after all.
The psalm does not stop at pardon. Its closing note goes past the symptoms to the cause.
Psalm 130 starts with the words "Out of the depths." That is where we have all come from, and what depths they were! … In a much earlier Psalm there had been the cry, "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles" (Ps. 25:22). But troubles are only symptoms and results, while iniquities are the cause. We have not started on the upward way unless we have seen the depths we were sunk in and cried to the Lord out of them. That is how we taste His forgiveness for the guilt of our iniquities, and know His redeeming power rescuing us from under their weight and oppression.
How far does that pardon reach? The answer is set by the atonement, not by the size of the sin.
There is no limit at all to divine forgiveness. There is no limit to how far the atonement reaches. There is no limit to the power and effect of the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, which cleanses from all sin.
- Depths. The trouble is not what others have done to you. It is your own sin, and that cuts deeper than any attack from outside.
- Down. Being low is not the disaster it feels like. It is the ground where blessing starts, and no one should rush a soul through it.
- Direction. A loud cry saves no one. A cry aimed at the Lord does. The moment the eye turns to Him, faith has begun.
- Deeper. Sorrow that only dreads punishment is shallow. Sorrow that grieves at having wronged a good God goes deeper.
- Deliverance. God does not just lift you out of the trouble. He deals with the sin that put you there, and that forgiveness has no limit.
Lord, hear my voice; let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication.
The psalm opens with a cry from the depths, and this verse is what the cry asks for: that God would hear. Commentators ask what sank the psalmist so low, and why a guilty person may still look for God's ear.
Writers connect the opening cry to David's own history, and read the "depths" as something deeper than hard circumstances.
The spiritual journey that David took began in the depths of repentance. No doubt the depth of his afflictions helped him there. If we have never been in the depths of repentance, we have never yet started on the journey at all.
If sin is what sank the psalmist, then feeling the weight of it is not a detour from blessing but the road to it — and one commentator warns against rushing anyone through it.
Nothing could be sadder than the condition shown in the opening words of this psalm. Yet it is the necessary requirement for enjoying God's favour. For what had brought Israel into the depths? It was their sins, their iniquities. There can never be hope for anyone until, like Israel, they are brought to feel and own their guilt. To be in the depths, therefore, is a blessed place when it is the result of a work of the Spirit of God... The deeper a soul gets down before God under the sense of its sin, the more certain it is to enter into a remarkable and glorious deliverance. So let no one ever try to cut short the deep inner work in a convicted soul. There cannot be too deep a sense of the exceeding sinfulness of sin.
Everything turns on the direction of the plea. The same writer sets it beside the tax collector in Jesus' parable, who would not lift his eyes to heaven.
But if Israel were in the depths, he turned to the Lord. This is the blessed fruit of grace. It was the same with the tax collector. He would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, so deeply did he feel his own unworthiness. Yet he beat his breast and cried, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" So Israel, in our Psalm, cried, "O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!" This is the sure pathway to blessing. As soon as the sinner's eye turns to the Lord, faith has sprung up in the soul, however feebly. The light of the coming day has already begun to drive back the darkness that covered it.
The cry carries distress, but not fear alone. One writer separates two kinds of distress and says this psalm holds the deeper one.
Psalm 130 takes up the sins of Israel as between the people and God. This is not merely legal distress. Confidence in Jehovah marks it, though it comes with deep distress and humiliation. That is what the sense of sin and the sense of mercy produce together in the soul. Mere legal distress is more selfish in its terror. It is still admirable, for it destroys confidence in self and throws the soul on mercy. But conviction joined with a sense of mercy is more the sense of having wronged the God of goodness. It is a deeper work after all.
The plea asks for God's ear. One writer notices which name of God this psalm appeals to, and what that name means for a guilty people.
Note — This psalm is marked out by its appeal to "Adonai." The reason is clear. He is indeed the Deliverer of His people, but He is also judge of the wicked on earth. Yet His people are chargeable with iniquities. How then? There is forgiveness. This is a deeply solemn question for them.
One writer applies this cry to any believer who has failed. He then draws a line between pardon and daily walk.
We can still look to God in our weakness, our failure, and even when we have erred and sinned. Blessed be His Name, His ear is always open to our cry. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness"... There is no limit at all to divine forgiveness. There is no limit to the extent of the atonement. There is no limit to the value and effect of the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, which cleanses from all sin.
A soul crying to God from the depths and getting forgiveness is one thing. A soul looking to Him in the path of practical righteousness is quite another. We must keep these two things distinct.
- Depths — the cry starts where sin has sunk the soul. Commentators read this as repentance, not just hard times.
- Direction — the moment the sinner's eye turns to the Lord, faith has already begun to work.
- Duration — no one should hurry a soul out of this place. The lower it goes, the greater the deliverance ahead.
- Address — the psalmist appeals to the One who delivers His people and also judges the wicked. That is what makes forgiveness so solemn a question.
- Answer — His ear is always open to the believer who fails. But finding pardon and walking in practical righteousness are two different things.
If thou, Jah, shouldest mark iniquities, Lord, who shall stand?
Psalm 130 opens with a cry from the depths. By the third verse it is clear that the deepest trouble is sin itself. The singer is not asking God to lift his circumstances. He asks what would happen if God kept a record of wrongs.
David's own troubles lie behind these words — and something deeper than troubles.
David's troubles grew until they brought him into the depths — not just the depths of trouble, but of repentance. Read the first three verses of Psalm 130 with care and you will see the language of a repentant man. He knew he could not stand in the presence of the Lord as the marker of iniquities. This Psalm holds the confession of personal sin and unworthiness... and it ends with the confident expectation of redemption from all iniquities.
The verse turns on the word "mark" — and on what would follow if God did it.
In the presence of the Lord the repentant soul learns three great truths. First, no sinner can stand before God on the ground of his own merit. To mark iniquities means to notice them, or to keep them in memory so as to punish them. If the Lord does that, there is no hope for man — none can stand (Job 10:14; Job 14:16). Second, we have no standing before God through our own merits — but there is forgiveness through His mercy.
The Psalms use the word "stand" again and again. One writer gathers those verses and ties them to God's throne.
"The wicked will not stand in the judgment" (1:5). "The boastful shall not stand before your eyes" (5:5). "Who can stand before you when once your anger is roused?" (76:7). "If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?" (130:3). These passages clearly connect the thought of standing with the throne of God. That throne must act in judgment against the sinner — unless, as the last psalm quoted shows, God can forgive the guilty one... Before that throne, then, the sinner in his sins cannot stand. It is not taught here that his standing has been a bad one, or that he must change it. On the contrary, it is plainly stated that as a sinner he has no standing before a God of judgment.
The verse can stir a hope that God will leave sin unmarked. One writer follows that hope to its end.
Here we find a soul in deep distress, crying out of the depths, and dreading that God should mark iniquity... There is a clear struggle here, and perhaps an effort to hide sin. The soul is afraid to make the worst known. It fears to lose the hope that came from sin not being marked. Such a hope is vain; such an effort is futile. God must know the very worst; there must be a full confession and a total, unreserved surrender. It is useless to conceal any part of the truth. Yet the soul shrinks back from telling everything. It dreads punishment. It holds false thoughts of God, and its misery deepens!
Admitting the verse's answer is not defeat. It settles two positions at once.
First, then, there is the confession of the holiness of God, and of what sin deserves. Not one on the face of the whole earth could stand before God's all-searching eye on the ground of his own merits. It is a great thing when the soul sees this. Then it will not try to justify itself. It will admit, frankly and fully, that it is subject to the righteous judgment of God. This gives God His place, and puts the soul, at the same time, into its only proper place before God.
The same verse answers a common complaint about God's apparent silence toward evil.
People ask why God does not judge at once the men whose uncontrolled, devil-inspired ambitions break up the peace of the nations. But if God were to judge all the bad men in the world, how many would escape? "If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?" (Ps. 130:3). God is not indifferent to the unrighteousness of men... but this is not the day of judgment but of mercy.
- Depths — The cry rises out of repentance, not out of trouble alone.
- Marked — To "mark" is to notice sins and keep them in memory to punish them; if God did that, no one could stand on his own merit.
- Standing — The word belongs to God's throne. The sinner's standing there is not poor, it is non-existent.
- Silence — Hiding any part of the truth is useless. God must know the very worst, and the soul that hides only deepens its own misery.
- Mercy — Owning the answer gives God His place and puts you in yours. And judgment waits, because today is the day of mercy.
But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared.
Verse 3 leaves a person with no footing at all: if God kept a record of sins, no one could stand. Verse 4 answers that dread. It does not lower God's standard. It points to something in God Himself. Then it draws a conclusion most readers would not expect: forgiveness produces fear, not ease.
The psalm puts pardon in one place only: with God. The people praying here look nowhere else.
The chief interest of this Psalm is the deep sense that those praying express. They are helpless sinners before God. They hold on to Him, trusting His covenant name of mercy. At the same time they feel deeply that they are unfit for His presence. Forgiveness belongs to God, and they feel that forgiveness is their need. Their own iniquity has put them in the depths. Now a hand other than theirs must reach out and save them from the fruit of their own way.
A repentant soul learns three truths in order. The third says what forgiveness is for.
In the presence of the Lord the repentant soul learns three great truths. First, no sinner can stand before God on the ground of his own merit. If the Lord marks iniquities — watching them, or keeping them in memory to punish — there is no hope for man. None can stand. Second, if we cannot stand before God by our own merits, there is still forgiveness through His mercy. Third, if God forgives it is that He may be feared, and not that men may think lightly of their sin or of God's mercy.
The wording feels wrong at first glance. One writer admits it, then shows the word is exact.
The fear of the Lord is the next thing the Psalm dwells on. Where the knowledge of His grace is real, it will surely lead there. "But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared." We might have expected it to say "loved" instead. But we may be sure there is no mistake. Grace leads to intimacy with God. The knowledge of God gained by one brought near to Him drives slavish fear out; it does not produce it.
Two kinds of fear go by the same name.
There is the fear of torment; and there is the fear of forgiveness. How terrible the one! How sweet the other! Reader, mark the divine order: "But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared."
Forgiveness creates a horror of sinning again against such kindness.
Note those words: "that you may be feared." God's forgiving grace always meets the broken-hearted confession of the one who has gone wrong. In the forgiven person that grace produces a deep sense of God's goodness, and with it a deep sense of how serious sin is. So he fears to grieve such a loving, patient, gracious One again. Such fear is not the fear that has torment. It is a godly, wholesome fear of sin.
One objection comes up often: full pardon must make people careless. The shape of the psalm rules it out.
Some have supposed that full and free forgiveness must produce carelessness and licence. And so it might, if God forgave us apart from repentance, and apart from a righteous basis for forgiveness laid in the work of redemption. But there is no forgiveness apart from these two things. The Psalm makes it plain: it begins with repentance and ends with redemption.
The sorrow in this psalm is not mere terror of consequences. Mercy is already in view, and that changes it.
It is not, however, now merely legal distress. Confidence in the Lord marks it, though it comes with deep distress and humbling. This comes from the sense of sin and the sense of mercy joining in the soul. Mere legal distress is more selfish in its terror. Still, it is excellent for destroying confidence in self and throwing the soul on mercy. Conviction joined with the sense of mercy is more the sense of having wronged the God of goodness. It is a deeper work after all. Verse 4 is the honest acknowledgment of where the need came from, with grace meeting that need.
- Depths — the cry starts at the bottom, where no one can stand on his own merit.
- With You — pardon is not something the sinner finds in himself. It belongs to God, and another hand must lift him out.
- Feared — the psalm says "feared" where we might expect "loved". Grace does not remove reverence; it clears the slavish fear out of it.
- Not torment — this fear means dreading to grieve a loving, patient God again. It is never the fear of punishment.
- Redemption — the psalm begins with repentance and ends with redemption. That is why free forgiveness can never mean a careless life.
I wait for Jehovah; my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.
The psalm has moved from a cry out of the depths to the discovery that forgiveness is with God. Now the whole soul turns to one posture: waiting. What kind of waiting is this, and what holds it steady?
This waiting does not begin in calm. It begins in distress over sin. It turns into waiting only because mercy has come into view.
Psalm 130 takes up another subject — the sins of Israel as between the people and God. It is not, however, merely legal distress now. Confidence in the LORD marks it, even though it comes with deep distress and humiliation. This is the effect of joining the sense of sin and the sense of mercy in the soul. Mere legal distress is more selfish in its terror. It is still excellent for destroying confidence in self and throwing us on mercy. But conviction joined to the sense of mercy feels more the wrong done to the God of goodness. It is a deeper work after all. Here there is forgiveness with the LORD, so that He may be feared. And the soul waits on the LORD, though it has cried out of the depths.
The verb is not vague. It carries a settled expectation that the thing hoped for will happen. The second half of the verse gives the reason it can hold on.
Such waiting on the Lord could only spring from the confidence of faith. The word translated "wait" means "to hope that a thing will be done, and to wait steadily and patiently until it is done." Everywhere in the Scriptures, and above all in the Gospels, perseverance marks genuine faith. He was sure that there was forgiveness with the Lord. So the psalmist waits on Him until he enjoys the blessing he longs for. And he tells us, besides, the ground of his expectation: "and in His word I hope." This is what encouraged him to keep waiting. The word of God was the foundation of his trust, so he knew he would not be put to shame.
Hope needs something outside itself to lean on and to point it in a direction. God's word does both. And mercy makes God Himself the one thing the soul looks for.
The soul sees in Him a holiness so great that, if He acted only in view of it, no one could stand. But with Him there is forgiveness as well. The mercy He shows is the very thing that produces reverent fear in those who receive it. And in that fear lies the beginning of all true wisdom. This makes Him the soul's one expectancy: it waits in hope on Him. His word sustains and directs this hope.
The psalmist repeats himself in the next verse, and that repetition signals more than resignation. It is longing, the alertness of someone straining for daybreak.
Meanwhile the soul waits for the Lord, and has placed his confidence in God's Word (v. 5). Yet this waiting is not passive. The psalm adds, "more than watchmen for the morning" (v. 6). That is, a longing expectancy is involved, and saying it twice underlines it.
If waiting belongs to faith, then prayer that stops at the words has stopped too soon. This verse tests that habit.
It is a day of much public and united prayer. Week after week God's people gather to pour out their hearts before Him, praying for themselves and for others. So ask yourself: is there this waiting on the Lord, in the confidence of faith, for the answers to those prayers? Is there not a danger that we rest content with having prayed, and give too little attention to waiting for the blessings we asked for?
The psalm ends in the future tense — He shall redeem. That is the difference between the waiting soul here and the believer who looks back at the cross.
The psalmist is in a waiting attitude, hoping in the word of the Lord. He calls on Israel to hope in the Lord, because there is mercy and plenteous redemption with Him; but he adds that He shall redeem, not that He has done so. Mercy, expressing itself in redemption, does lie at the basis of the forgiveness preached in the gospel today. But we know redemption by the blood of Christ as an accomplished fact. And the full forgiveness we have received produces in our souls that fear of God which is such a healthy thing. We fear to grieve the love that has brought us so full a forgiveness.
- Depths first. The waiting starts in real distress over sin. But it is distress joined to the sense of mercy, and that combination is the deeper work.
- Forgiveness frees. Because forgiveness is with God, the soul stops defending itself and turns to Him as its one expectancy.
- Word steadies. "Wait" means holding on until the thing is done; God's word is the foundation that keeps the waiting from shame.
- Longing, not lethargy. The doubled phrase shows eager expectancy, like watchers straining toward the dawn.
- Answer expected. Praying is not the finish line; the test is whether we then wait in confidence for what we asked.
My soul [waiteth] for the Lord more than the watchers [wait] for the morning, [more than] the watchers for the morning.
Psalm 130 begins with a cry out of deep trouble, and by this verse the psalmist has owned his sin and asked for forgiveness. Now he tells us how he waits — and he says it twice, because the longing is that strong.
The picture comes from men on duty through the night, watching the sky for the first grey light. One writer links it to the temple, where dawn brought the day's first sacrifice.
He has acknowledged his sins and asked for forgiveness. So he has waited for Jehovah more eagerly than the morning watchmen watch for the first light of day. Most take this as a reference to the priests and Levites on duty in the temple, watching for the moment to offer the morning burnt offering.
Waiting can mean doing nothing. The doubled line rules that out.
Meanwhile the soul waits for the Lord and has put his confidence in God's Word (v. 5). Yet this waiting is not merely passive. The psalm adds, "more than watchmen for the morning" — that is, a longing expectancy is involved (v. 6). Saying it twice emphasises it.
The word behind "wait" is not vague. It means expecting a definite outcome and staying steady until it comes. And that hope rests on something solid.
Such waiting on the Lord could only come from the confidence of faith. The word translated this way means "to hope that a thing will happen, and to wait steadily and patiently until it happens." ... He also tells us the ground of his expectation: "and in His word I hope." That is what encouraged him to keep waiting. He had the word of God as the foundation of his trust, so he knew he would not be put to shame.
The psalmist feels his sin deeply, yet he waits with confidence, not terror. One writer contrasts two kinds of distress over sin.
This is no longer only the distress of a soul under law. What marks it now is confidence in Jehovah, even though deep distress and humbling come with it. That is what happens when the sense of sin and the sense of mercy are joined in the soul. Distress under law alone is more selfish in its terror, though it does the good work of destroying confidence in self and throwing the soul on mercy. Conviction joined with a sense of mercy is more the sense of having wronged the God of goodness. It is a deeper work after all.
The mercy itself is what makes God the one thing the soul is looking for:
The mercy that He shows is the very thing that produces in the recipients of it that reverent fear in which lies the beginning of all true wisdom. This makes Him to the soul its one expectancy: it waits in hope on Him. His word sustains and directs this hope, waiting for the Lord more than the anxious watchers for the morning light.
A watchman who stops expecting sunrise has stopped watching. This verse puts a question to people who pray often.
So it was a waiting with all doubt cleared away, in which he already tasted the joy of his hope. ... Week after week God's people meet to pour out their hearts before Him in earnest prayer and pleading for others. So let this question be asked: do we wait on the Lord, with the confidence of faith, for the answers to those prayers? Is there not a danger that we are satisfied with having prayed, and care too little about waiting for the blessings we asked for?
The morning comes when it comes; the watchman does not set the hour. That is exactly the comfort here.
If our times were in our own hand, deliverance would come too soon. If they were in our enemy's hand, it would come too late. But my times are in Your hand, and God's time is always best. ... When His people are low enough, and the enemy high enough, then the Church's morning star appears. Leave God to His own time. "My soul waits for the Lord." ... Deliverance may be delayed beyond our time; but it will not be delayed beyond God's time.
One writer applies the verse to now: it is still night, and we are still watching for the light.
We know it is night now, because the "Sun of righteousness" is absent. His glory is hidden, and even the sharpest spiritual sight sees His rays only dimly. But are our desires turned with all their strength towards the returning light? Are we waiting for it "more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning"?
- Depths. The waiting starts low. A real sense of sin meets forgiveness with God, and terror turns into confidence.
- Word. Hope has a foundation. He waits because God has spoken, and a person resting on God's word will not be put to shame.
- Watchmen. The picture is the night guard, and many take it as the priests waiting to offer the morning sacrifice, straining for the first light.
- Twice. The psalmist says it twice to mark intensity. Waiting here is longing expectancy, not resignation.
- Morning. The hour belongs to God: never too soon, never too late. The test of our praying is whether we still watch for the answer after we have asked.
Let Israel hope in Jehovah, because with Jehovah there is loving-kindness, and with him is plenteous redemption;
Psalm 130 begins with one man crying out of the depths. It does not end there. By verse 7 he calls the whole nation to hope. The reason he gives lies nowhere in Israel. It lies in what is "with the LORD" — steadfast love, and redemption in plenty.
What one man learned while waiting for God becomes the ground he offers to the whole nation.
He has admitted his iniquities and asked for forgiveness. He has waited for the LORD more eagerly than the morning watchmen wait for the first light of day... But the final deliverance will not be individual only. It will be national. So all Israel are urged to hope in the LORD, "for with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption. And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities." This is fitting ground for them to stand on, and it shows a real work of God in the souls of those who take it.
The speaker still has nothing in hand. He is not describing what he feels; he is describing what God is like.
The speaker is not yet enjoying what he seeks. Even so, he can testify with confidence to what is in the heart of God for His people... What an immovable foundation his faith had reached! His confidence did not rest on Israel's state, nor on his own prayers. It rested on the LORD's love, which never changes. That love both produced his confidence and kept it alive. He had learned the blessed lesson: God would act, not according to His people's need, but according to His own heart, according to Himself.
So he can speak to others still in sorrow as one who already knows how it ends.
It is as if he said, "Do not doubt for one moment how our present sorrows will end. Keep trusting Him, wait on, and we shall find that He will step in for our deliverance beyond our highest expectations."
The order of the two words matters. Mercy comes first, and human pride finds that hard.
The psalmist then appeals to Israel to "hope in the LORD." He is the only prospect worth considering, and with Him is abundant redemption. Who else could supply the redemption Israel so badly needs?... But His mercy is mentioned before His redemption. Man's pride may rebel at the suggestion that he needs mercy. But that pride will have to be broken down before he can find redemption from the guilt of sin.
The word marks a supply that keeps opening out the further you go into it. One writer pictures it as water.
This water is also abundant; not a pool, but a "river"... The figure of a river is very beautiful. Its origin is hidden, but the further you trace it from its source, the wider and deeper it becomes. So is the grace of God in Christ... None of us know much of its depth, height, length and breadth. But we do know this: the longer we live, the more we feel our need of the glorious truths of God's sovereign and unchanging grace to hold us up, and the more we enter into its vastness.
This redemption goes deeper than the rescue people ask for.
In a much earlier Psalm there had been the cry, "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles" (Ps. 25:22). But troubles are, after all, only symptoms and results, while iniquities are the cause. We have not started on the upward way unless we have seen the depths we were plunged into and cried to the Lord out of them. Only then have we tasted His forgiveness for the guilt of our iniquities, and known His redeeming power rescuing us from their weight and oppression.
The tense matters. The psalmist says God shall redeem; he is still looking forward.
He calls Israel to hope in the Lord, because there is mercy and plentiful redemption with Him. But he adds that He shall redeem, not that He has done so. Mercy, showing itself in redemption, does lie at the base of the forgiveness preached in the Gospel today. But we know redemption by the blood of Christ as an accomplished fact. And the full forgiveness we have received produces in our souls that fear of God which is such a very healthy thing. We fear lest we should grieve the love which has brought us so full a forgiveness.
- With — everything the verse offers sits in God, not in the one hoping. Faith rests on His love that never changes, not on Israel's state or its prayers.
- Mercy — love is named before redemption. Pride resists needing mercy, and that pride must break before anyone finds redemption from guilt.
- Plentiful — not a pool but a river, widening the further you trace it. No one has measured its depth, height, length or breadth.
- Israel — the psalm widens from one man in the depths to the whole people. The final deliverance is national, not individual only.
- Redeem — the rescue reaches iniquities, the cause, not merely troubles, the symptoms. The psalmist says God shall do it. Those who trust Christ know redemption by His blood as an accomplished fact.
And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities.
Psalm 130 begins with a cry from the depths, and this last verse is where the whole song lands. Two questions press: what is Israel rescued from, and who is the "He" who does the rescuing?
One writer sets this last verse beside an earlier prayer about troubles.
The psalmist, however, set the Lord before him and addressed his cry to Him. As a result he found what we find: first, that "with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared"; and second, that He not only forgives but redeems. "He will redeem Israel from all his iniquities." In a much earlier psalm the cry had been, "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles" (Ps. 25:22). But troubles are, after all, only symptoms and results, while iniquities are the cause.
Another writer traces how the psalm builds to this point.
Verse 4 is the honest acknowledgment of where the need came from, with grace meeting that need. Verse 7 is what Israel can count on in the Lord. Verse 8 is the full counting on it for Israel — that is, redemption, not from troubles, but from iniquities.
Where does that confidence come from?
What an immovable foundation his faith had reached! It was not Israel's state, nor his own prayers, but the unchanging nature of the Lord's love that produced and sustained his confidence. He had learned the blessed lesson that God would act, not according to His people's need, but according to His own heart, according to Himself. It is similar to what we find in Ephesians. There the apostle tells us that "God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ." So the psalmist can speak, not of redemption merely, but of plenteous redemption. It will be, he is fully assured, a redemption worthy of God Himself, and therefore beyond all His people's thoughts and expectation.
The psalm names mercy before redemption. One writer explains why that order matters.
The psalmist then appeals to Israel to "hope in the Lord," for He is the only prospect worth considering, and with Him is abundant redemption. They have indeed waited long for this. But they themselves are to blame for the long delay, because they have rejected the only Lord who could meet their need. But His mercy is mentioned before His redemption. Man's pride may rebel against the suggestion that he needs mercy, but such pride will have to be broken down if he is to find redemption from the guilt of sin.
The psalm says He will redeem, without spelling out how. One writer names both the person and the basis of the work.
We understand this to go far beyond stepping in for their present relief and deliverance, and in fact to include the history of Israel to the end. The Lord will "redeem" Israel for ever from the consequences of their sins. In other words, a full and final redemption is in view here, not only a governmental one. It will be the fulfilment of the angel's word to Joseph: "You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." The Lord of our psalm is this Jesus. On the ground of His one sacrifice, His finished work carried out at Calvary, He will redeem Israel from all his iniquities.
Verses 1–4 are personal; verse 8 is national. The move from the one to the many is the psalm's own logic.
The final deliverance will not be individual only but national. So the psalm urges all Israel to hope in the Lord, "for with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plentiful redemption, and he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities." This is fitting ground for them to stand on, and it shows in those who take it a real work of God in their souls. They cast themselves on God to do according to what He has said.
The same path is open now.
We come out of the depths when we cry to the Lord in true repentance. At once we may know a full and free forgiveness. It covers all our iniquities. It reaches us in mercy, and it rests on a plenteous redemption.
- Cause, not symptom. An earlier psalm asked for rescue from troubles. This one ends with rescue from iniquities. Troubles are only the results; iniquities are the root.
- Mercy first. The psalm names mercy before redemption. Pride has to break before anyone takes redemption on those terms.
- Plenteous, not measured. The redemption matches God's own heart, not the size of the need. So it runs beyond anything His people expected.
- Named and finished. The One who redeems is the Jesus of the angel's promise. The ground is His one sacrifice at Calvary — full and final, not a passing relief.
- All, and all of them. The promise runs from one cry out of the depths to a whole nation. It reaches anyone today who cries out of the depths and finds forgiveness for all their iniquities.
(A Song of degrees. Of David.) Jehovah, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself in great matters, and in things too wonderful for me.
In this song David tells the Lord what is not in him: no proud heart, no raised eyes, no reaching after matters beyond his size. How does anyone reach that state, and what counts as a thing "too high"?
This is not a boast made to onlookers.
Notice first that David speaks to the Lord and before Him. Under His all-searching eye he says, "My heart is not haughty." … Nothing speaks so clearly of a powerful work of grace in the soul as having humility. It is the sure product of the sanctifying power of the truth. So it is the unfailing sign of growing likeness to Christ. To get down ever lower is to get morally ever closer to Him.
(Older translations read "haughty" and "lofty eyes" where the ESV has "lifted up" and "raised too high.")
The two phrases name two different faults. Each looks in a different direction.
The exercises of his soul mark the godly man with lowliness that makes nothing of self. They mark him with meekness that gives place to others. So the natural haughtiness of the heart, which makes everything self, is judged. The lofty eyes that look down on others are condemned.
David was not a mild man by nature. This psalm records what grace worked into him.
We shall see too in Psalm 131 that real exercise of soul subdued his passions. It was like the process of weaning: painful but necessary. Yet grace carried it through until his soul was as a weaned child. "Lord, my heart is not haughty nor my eyes lofty." This is after God's own heart: "a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious." These traits of divine life are lovely, but they give no ground for boasting.
Commentators read the last line as refusing to run the world, and refusing to demand explanations God has not given.
The humble soul is marked by an absence of reasoning. He is content to leave the management and outcome of everything in the hands of the Lord. He would not govern his circumstances if he could, nor does he wish to probe into second causes. Instead he connects everything with the Lord's ordering. He waits quietly before Him, satisfied with all His arrangements. How many lose the ground of dependence! They are eager to break into these great matters and explain things that are too high for them.
Another writer links this restraint to a chastened spirit.
With a chastened spirit the soul stops occupying itself with things God has not revealed. Such things are too wonderful for it to understand.
Ignore this verse, and you take on work God never gave you.
There are great matters which are far too high for us and which the Lord holds in His own hands. He carries on His own work. He directs His testimony and preserves it when necessary. He orders and controls His servants. However, when well-meaning men try to do these things, they take up what they were never asked to do. They usually end up failing in what God did intend them to do!
David said this truly. Only one Person said it perfectly.
Only He could say He was without the pride of the natural heart. Only He could disclaim every scornful look. None but Himself could invite the gaze of the Searcher of hearts, saying, "Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor my eyes lofty." What a lesson this is for His saints. If ever anyone walked this earth in our human form who was entitled to a lofty bearing and to take its great matters in hand, it was He who voluntarily accepted the lowest place, and who said, "I am gentle and lowly in heart."
The psalm also looks ahead. What David says for himself, Israel will one day say together.
One day Israel's pride will be humbled to acknowledge and receive the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Then their attitude will change for good, as this psalm shows us. It will turn from proud self-exaltation to lowly submission and faith in the living God. This is not just an outward change, but a change of the heart (v. 1). What a contrast to Israel's condition for centuries past!
- Weaned, not wired. David was not born calm. Grace subdued him through real exercise of soul, so the psalm is testimony, not boasting.
- Weaned from pride. A haughty heart makes everything self. Lofty eyes look down on others. Both must go before anyone can say this verse honestly.
- Weaned from control. "Things too high" are the matters God keeps in His own hands, and the things He has not revealed. They are His to manage and explain, not ours.
- Weaned for usefulness. Those who grab at work never assigned to them usually fail at the work God did assign.
- Weaned like Christ. The one Person entitled to a lofty bearing took the lowest place. One day a humbled Israel will make the same confession from the heart.
Surely I have restrained and composed my soul, like a weaned child with its mother my soul within me is as a weaned child.
Psalm 131 is short, and this verse holds its central picture: a small child resting against its mother, no longer crying to be fed. Commentators read it as a soul that has stopped grasping. They ask two questions of it: what does such a soul give up, and how does anyone reach that calm?
David's calm had a history behind it. One writer sees two stages in it, and notes what disappeared:
In verse 2 David shows us that in his case a weaning process followed the humbling process. Before, he had been like an unweaned child. Such a child keeps longing for what it wants, and frets because it is not satisfied. Now his soul was even as a weaned child. He had been set free from the fascinations of former days, and he "restrained and composed" his soul, as another translation puts it. His fretfulness was all gone. Even when he did not get all he wanted, calmness of spirit marked him.
Weaning does not send the child away. It still lies where it always lay, and that is the point of the comparison:
An unweaned child may play happily with others. Yet put it with its mother, and it loses all its restraint and composure. The weaned child can be with its mother, calm and settled. It no longer feels the special pull that once ruled it, because it now knows other sources of food and satisfaction. Just in this way the soul is weaned from the world and the old loves connected with the world.
So where does the calm come from? One commentator traces it to redemption, and to what fills the heart afterwards:
God has redeemed them from all their sins and delivered them from the enemy's power. The Lord Himself has become the portion of their hearts. As they enjoy this satisfying portion, they are weaned in practice from everything else. It is the same with believers now. Let them once discover what Christ can be to their hearts, and give Him first place there... and every attraction this world can offer will lose its power. So weanedness is the result of enjoying Christ Himself.
David does not only describe his state. He says he quieted his own soul, and that carries a warning:
A weaned child will still long for its usual food, above all at the start. In the same way the believer will often be tempted to fall back on his old enjoyments, unless the power of the Spirit keeps him on guard. Israel did this in the wilderness, always craving the "meat pots" of Egypt.
Who can break a will like that? Not the person himself:
Psalm 131 brings in a point of the highest importance. It matches what Christians know as liberty... Breaking the human will is work that God alone can carry through. Many have tried to subdue their sinful desires through monastery life and other strict systems of self-denial. Every one of them met with disappointment, and perhaps ended in despair... How is this to be reached? By death! Christ has been in the waters of death and dried them up for His people; otherwise no one could know deliverance.
Some writers hear these words first in the mouth of Christ, and only then in ours. They also say what being weaned really means:
How true, word for word, all this is of the eternal Son of the Father in His human nature, God's lovely man on earth! But when we ask whether it is just as true of His disciples, our own hearts rebuke us... He learned obedience through the things He suffered, and He also walked the path of real separation — the One who was not of this world, the heavenly Stranger. Whether the world attracted Him or distracted Him, He quieted Himself as a child weaned from its mother. Someone who is really weaned, we should notice, is not simply cut off from what once fed him. He has lost his old taste for it, and gained a new taste for the solid food that brings growth.
One writer recommends this psalm to people troubled by God's ways rather than by worldly desires:
Some people would never take common ground with the unbeliever. Yet they are still troubled by doubts about some of God's ways in His government, and about the solemn question of eternal punishment. We would urge them to study that lovely little Psalm 131, and to drink in its spirit.
- Weaned, not starved. The craving goes, not the mother; the child rests where it once cried.
- Weaned by fullness. Christ enjoyed as the heart's portion drains the old attractions of their power.
- Weaned by God alone. Strict self-denial has never broken a human will; only God can do that work.
- Weaned and watchful. The state must be kept; old appetites return unless the Spirit guards the soul.
- Weaned like Christ. He lived these words as no one else has, through every attraction and distraction — and our own hearts rebuke us.
Let Israel hope in Jehovah, from henceforth and for evermore.
The psalm has been personal up to this point — a quieted heart, a soul like a weaned child. The last verse turns outward, and the writer asks that what he has found alone should become the portion of everyone.
The psalm closes with a desire: that what one person has experienced may become the experience of the whole nation. If these are the ways of the Lord in bringing a weary soul to rest, then "O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore."
The call to hope follows the picture of the weaned child. One writer traces the link: a heart pulled off its old food has room for God.
Confidence in the Lord follows, and that is our third lesson. "O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore." Nothing helps trust in Jehovah more than being weaned from natural things. The heart is then free to turn to Him who is invisible, and confidence in Himself is created and increased.
Another writer puts hope after the struggle. It comes when the soul is at peace with God, and it rests on His covenant faithfulness.
When the soul truly reaches this condition, what hope in God comes to stir the heart of the saint! Israel, now at true peace with God, may hope in Jehovah, the faithful covenant-God, from this time forth and forevermore.
Commentators differ on which way the link runs. One writer puts hope first. Israel's weaning waits on it, and old cravings die when a better Object is found.
So it will also be for Israel in the coming day. They will be weaned from the love of the old evil things that have trapped them all through their history. But that will only happen when they "hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore." When they find in Jehovah the Object of all their desires, the old desires will fade away.
The closing words fix when this hope begins and how long it lasts.
The psalm might well close with urgent advice: "O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore" (v. 3). That is, from the beginning of the millennium, and never stopping.
This is not advice from someone who has never tested it.
The lesson of the whole psalm, and of the psalm before it, is in this last verse. This exhortation gains great force when we remember that it comes out of the Psalmist's own experience. He found for himself that the Lord may be trusted at all times. He found that none who wait for Him are ever ashamed. So he says in effect, "Never give up your confidence in Jehovah; He will never disappoint your expectations. He may test you, keep you waiting, take you through many sorrows and trials, but He will never forget you or give you up. Always, therefore, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore."
The same writer presses the exhortation on the reader too.
We are often surrounded by difficulties and temptations, and, like Peter, when we see that the wind is strong we begin to sink. Here is the sure and effective antidote to all fear and unbelief: hope in the Lord, and never stop hoping in Him. Do this however gloomy your circumstances look. He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself. All that He is presses this exhortation on us: hope in Him from this time forth and forevermore.
One writer pictures David using these very words. He was on his way to meet Goliath, and others had reproached him.
And then he went forward to meet Goliath, sure that Jehovah was the strength of His people. He encouraged his soul with these closing words of that lovely psalm: "O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore." How often the Lord by His Spirit vindicates and encourages His poor people in their own souls, when others wrongly reproach them!
- Weaned — the quiet soul of verse 2 is the soil the last verse grows in; a heart pulled off its old supply is free to turn to God.
- Hoping — that freedom becomes confidence in the LORD, the faithful covenant-God. The old desires fade as He becomes the Object of them all.
- Shared — what one man learned alone, he now asks for the whole nation. One man's experience is meant to become everyone's.
- Tested — the appeal comes from a man who proved it. God may keep you waiting and take you through trials, but He never forgets you or gives you up.
- Forever — the hope has a start and no end. It answers fear today, and it holds into the coming day.
(A Song of degrees.) Jehovah, remember for David all his affliction;
The psalm opens with a plea for someone else, not for the singer. It asks God to remember David and everything he suffered. Why should past suffering be the ground of a prayer? And what was David suffering for?
The appeal rests on nothing David achieved. One writer sees the Spirit of God bringing before God the sorrows of a king who was anointed yet rejected. He then turns to what that means for our own prayers.
David and all his afflictions are the ground of this appeal. These are what the Spirit of God calls, as it were, to the remembrance of Jehovah. He brings to mind David, and all the sorrows and persecutions he passed through when he was the anointed and yet rejected king. So now, how welcome it is to the heart of God when His people remind Him of the rejection and sufferings of His beloved Son... Always remember this: in our service as priests we are not to present ourselves or our blessings, but Christ and His afflictions.
Having a right aim is not the same as being fit to reach it. One writer ties the afflictions of verse 1 to the psalms just before it, and reads them as God's training.
It is one thing to have a right goal, as David had; it is another to be in the right spiritual state to reach it... God certainly allowed the afflictions David endured, and perhaps even designed them and sent them, so that he might gain the spiritual education he needed. The first verse of Psalm 132 names them. Affliction is also named in the first verse of Psalm 129, and Psalms 129, 130 and 131 are taken up with affliction, or with what affliction is designed to produce in the souls of those who come under it.
The verse names the afflictions. The verses that follow name what David was after, and that one aim explains his whole life.
From the very start of his life, David was a man who seized God's thought and made God's goal his own goal. So his whole life turned on one great overpowering passion, one great desire. Here this psalm takes you behind the scenes and shows you the hidden spring of the things that David did.
What David wanted was a place for God. That meant one concrete thing: the ark, the chest that served as God's throne among His people.
Ephratah in that verse apparently stands for Bethlehem. When he was only a boy there, before he ever became famous, he heard of the ark and what had happened to it. He realised that if God was to have His right place in Israel, the ark, which was His throne, must be recovered and set up again in its proper place... David knew that in finding a place for the ark he was in effect finding a place for the Lord.
David's sufferings were not just a private misfortune. They came at a time when everything Israel was responsible for had already broken down.
First of all, David's (that is, Christ's) sufferings are the basis of everything. Next comes sovereign grace. Responsibility, even under the mercy declared through Moses, was closed when the Philistines took the ark captive. There could be no day of atonement, no blood on the mercy seat. Ichabod — "the glory has departed" — was written on everything. God had handed His strength over to captivity, His glory into the enemies' hands. Sovereign grace raised up Samuel the prophet, and then David. David brought the ark not into the tabernacle at all, but to Mount Zion. Zion was therefore the seat of sovereign grace in power, in contrast to Sinai. The psalm calls on God to arise into His rest, for He will rest in His love.
David's afflictions were not forgotten when the glory came. Solomon's prayer rested on them, and the glory still to come will carry their mark.
In Psalm 132 Solomon pleads with Jehovah to arise into the rest he had prepared for Him, and to fill it with glory and blessing, on the ground of his father's afflictions... So the afflictions of David were known in the middle of the glories of Solomon, and so the Lamb that was slain shall be in the midst of the throne. Heaven and earth, the true tabernacle or place of meeting, with everything in them, shall have the memorials of the crucified Jesus about them.
- Affliction as ground — The prayer rests on nothing David achieved, only on what he suffered. Suffering, not success, is what God's people bring to Him.
- Affliction as schooling — God allowed the troubles, and perhaps even sent them, to bring David into the right spiritual state for the work he longed to do.
- Affliction with one aim — He suffered for one thing: a place for God. Recovering the ark was the single passion of his whole life.
- Affliction after ruin — Israel's responsibility had closed when the Philistines took the ark. David bringing it to Zion is sovereign grace stepping in.
- Affliction remembered — The rejected king points to a greater Sufferer. The coming glory will still carry the marks of the Lamb who was slain.
How he swore unto Jehovah, vowed unto the Mighty One of Jacob
This verse looks back on an oath David swore while he was still a hunted man. Two questions follow: what did he care about that much, and who is the God he calls the Mighty One of Jacob?
David did not make this vow from a throne. He made it while Saul hunted him. Ambition drives most conquerors; David's cry ran the other way:
The world's history has known other conquerors beside David. Ambition drove every one of them, either personal or national. Their cry has always been either, "A place for myself," or "A place for my nation." David stands quite alone. His cry was, "A place for the Lord." In the middle of his afflictions he swore a solemn oath: he would give himself no rest until he found that place.
A hunted man has obvious things to ask for. David asked for none of them:
The surprising thing is that David did not vow this: "If the good Lord will grant me a decent house to live in, where I can be free from this endless mistreatment from Saul and his men, if He will give me a decent little cottage and a comfortable bed to lie on, then I will serve Him devotedly the rest of my life" — anything for a peaceful and quiet life! … So David, while he is hunted over the mountains, does not think of himself at all: it is the ark of the covenant and the glory of his God. The ark had been lost; where it was, nobody seemed to care. God had lost His place among His people. It is far more important, said David — young man though he was — that God should have His place than that I should have my place.
The title David swears by has a history. It reaches back to old Jacob blessing his sons, and to Joseph in particular — the brother his family hated and attacked:
This may explain the title used twice here of Jehovah, "the mighty One of Jacob." Jacob himself first used it when he blessed his twelve sons before his death. He used it of Joseph. The archers had deeply grieved Joseph, shot at him and hated him, yet the hands of "the mighty One of Jacob" made his arms strong. God exalted him through rejection, as He has exalted the One that Joseph pictured — and will exalt Him yet, even in this world. So David had travelled back to the beginning. He shared God's purposes, and wanted to be the vessel who carried them out in the kingdom.
The desire that ate up David points on to Someone whose sorrows came from the same source:
The ark had been a stranger in the days of Saul. David's earliest desire was to restore it, and this Psalm shows that the desire consumed him. … So Jesus could say, "Zeal for your house will consume me." Two things drove all His energy and lay behind His many sorrows: to give God a dwelling among men, and to bring man back to God.
Vows made by weak people often collapse. This vow stands, because the One who made it is mighty:
But some vows are not made in haste by people too weak to keep them. They are made by One who is mighty, One on whom God has laid help. … So if Christ has gone up to His rest, it is because He has fulfilled His vow. He has found a place for Jacob's God, and in Zion God will rest for ever.
The psalm is a dialogue. David swears in the opening verses; God answers later in His own words:
In Psalm 132, in verse 5, David seeks a dwelling for God; in verse 13, God answers by choosing Zion. In verse 8, David says, "Arise, O LORD, and go to your resting place, you and the ark of your might." In verse 14, God answers, "This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it."
- Affliction. David swore this oath while he was hunted and homeless — the hardest place to think about anyone but yourself.
- A place for the Lord. Every other conqueror wanted a place for himself; David wanted God to have His place, and gave himself no rest until God had it.
- The Mighty One. The name he swears by reaches back to Jacob's blessing and to Joseph, the hated brother whom God made strong — rejection first, exaltation after.
- The greater David. The same desire consumed Christ: to give God a dwelling among men, and to bring man back to God. It explains His sorrows.
- Kept and answered. Christ has fulfilled the vow, and God answers David's search with His own choice: "This is my resting place forever."
I will not come into the tent of my house, I will not go up to the couch of my bed;
In this psalm David recalls a promise he made while Saul was hunting him. He would go without house and bed until the Lord had a home among His people. Two questions follow. What "place" did David mean? And why would a hunted man care more about God's rest than his own?
The vow's force lies in who made it and when. David was not yet a king with resources to spare.
Here is David, not yet the powerful and successful warrior-king. He is only the shepherd-lad. God had anointed him, yet Saul hunts and harries him, chasing him like a partridge on the mountains. In such circumstances you could easily understand him praying for a quiet life. He might have vowed almost anything, if only he could get a snug little house and a comfortable bed. There he could safely give sleep to his eyes and slumber to his eyelids.
The man David was running from wanted what ambitious people want. The two men mark out two ways to live.
Many a young man with a strong character makes vows once he is launched in life. He will do this or that to gain wealth or fame, and so secure a place for himself in the world. As a youth David made a vow, but it was to "find out a place for the LORD," and not a place for himself. In this he stood in sharpest contrast to the king before him. Samuel had seated Saul in the best place among the guests, after the Lord told him Saul was to be king. Saul clung to that best place, and fought bitterly for it. Saul's motto was "A place for myself." David's was, "A place for the Lord."
The psalm does not leave this "place" vague.
This place for the Lord that David swore to find was clearly connected with the ark. Verse 6 refers to it twice with the little word "it." Ephratah in that verse seems to stand for Bethlehem, and "the fields of the wood" for Kiriath-jearim. When he was only a boy at Ephratah, before he ever became famous, he heard of the ark and what it had been through. He realised that if God was to have His right place in Israel, the ark, which was His throne, must be brought back and formally set up again… David knew that in finding a place for the ark he was in effect finding a place for the Lord.
The ark was the chest that stood for God's throne among His people.
Why refuse your own bed over this? One writer traces the vow down to its root.
But a man's — that is, a saint's — rest lies only in the vow of this psalm. His rest, his heart's rest, could only be in the rest of God perfectly glorified. Here is the rest of the saint's heart: its desires are identified with God's. So it can have no rest until He has rest and is perfectly glorified. This is a vital principle, the effect of sharing the divine nature.
Commentators differ here. Some stay with David the man; others hear in the psalm the vow of Christ, kept by One strong enough to keep it.
But there are vows not taken rashly by those too weak to keep them. There is a vow taken by One who is mighty, on whom God has laid help… If Christ has gone up to His rest, it is because His vow is accomplished. He has found a place for the God of Jacob, and in Zion God will rest for ever.
The opposite spirit shows up in the people Haggai preached to. They had finished their own houses and left God's in ruins.
"Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your panelled houses, while this house lies in ruins?" This was a real challenge to their hearts. It raised an issue no cleverness could dodge… The secret was this: building and decorating their own houses stirred up no opposition. Only testimony for the Lord — in word, work, and life — stirs up the hostility of the world… They had chosen the path of selfish ease and self-interest, minding their own things and not the things of the Lord. They knew nothing of the spirit of the psalmist.
The same writer puts the positive side:
We must see that He has His rightful place in all our thoughts, our heart's affections, our service, our lives.
- Place — the question. Every life hunts for a place. Saul's motto was "A place for myself"; David's was "A place for the Lord."
- Place — the cost. A hunted fugitive gave up the house and bed he most wanted, so that God would not stay homeless among His own people.
- Place — the object. David was hunting a home for the ark, God's throne in Israel. To find a place for the ark was to find a place for the Lord.
- Place — the principle. A heart that shares God's nature can find no rest of its own until God has His rest and is fully glorified.
- Place — the test. Panelled houses beside a ruined house of God show the opposite spirit. Give Christ His place in your thoughts, affections, service and life, and you keep David's vow today.
I will not give sleep to mine eyes, slumber to mine eyelids,
David's words here are the middle of a vow: no sleep, no rest for himself until God had a settled dwelling in Israel. Why would a hunted man give up sleep over where God's ark was kept? And what happens to that vow when a greater Son of David takes it up?
This oath belongs to David's earliest years, not to his later success as king. One writer points out that only the psalm tells us so:
To find out "a place for the Lord" became the master passion of his life.
Sleep and a bed were exactly what David's circumstances made him long for. That is what gives the vow its edge:
But what would have been so natural for him was not at all what he did.
Others put the same contrast in terms of the two men in the story. Saul was hunting a place for himself; David was thinking about a chest of wood no one else missed.
It was Saul who was thinking of a place for himself, and as a result was bent upon destroying David. And David was all the while thinking about the Lord, consumed with desire because the ark of the testimony — which was the throne of the Lord in the midst of Israel — had gone into captivity to the land of the Philistines, and now that it had been returned by its panic-stricken captors, had gone into some obscure resting-place, no one seemed very much to care or know where. But somebody cared. David did.
The "it" of the next verse (ESV: "we heard of it in Ephrathah") points to the ark:
David knew that in finding a place for the ark he was in effect finding a place for the Lord.
The sleepless eyes are not mere effort. They are what happens when a person's desires line up with God's:
One writer reads the oath as belonging to Christ. On that reading the vow has already been paid, and the cost is the point:
Yes, if the mighty One of Jacob is to dwell in grace among men, Christ alone, at His own personal cost, must find Him a home. The psalm speaks of Israel, and of God's dwelling place on earth, but how fully it is true of the heavenly city! The Son has provided a resting place for the Father's heart, and it is the Father's voice that says, "This is My rest forever; here will I dwell, for I have desired it."
The vow can be taken up now:
But we do well to remember that while we wait for Him there is a way in which we may give Him His place, for has He not said, "For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them" (Matt. 18:20)... Having done that, we must take care that He has His rightful place in all our thoughts, our heart's affections, our service, our lives.
- The passion — finding a place for the Lord was the secret purpose that governed David's whole life. He formed it long before he had power to act on it.
- The price — he refused himself the house and bed he craved. God's throne mattered more than his own comfort.
- The place — the ark was God's throne in Israel; to find it a home was to give God His rightful place among His people.
- The rest — the sleepless eyes come from a heart so joined to God's desires that it can find no rest until He has rest.
- The reach — Christ pays the vow in full — at His own cost He found God a home. We share in it wherever we give Him His place among us and in our lives.
Until I find out a place for Jehovah, habitations for the Mighty One of Jacob. ...
David's words here are the middle of a vow: he will not settle into his own house or even sleep until God has a resting place among His people. The rest of the psalm shows whether God took up what David sought, and what He gave in return.
David made this vow in his hardest years, when safety and rest were what he had every reason to want:
Between David's first hearing of where the ark was and his finding it at last came the long, testing period of his afflictions under Saul, when he was in rejection, though he was the anointed king. Safety and rest were no doubt as attractive to David as they would be to us, yet they were set under a desire that overpowered them. That other affection held him so strongly that he put it into a solemn vow to the Lord, the mighty One of Jacob. He would set aside his own safety and comfort until he should "find a place for the LORD, a dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob" (verse 5). Then, having found a fitting place for the ark, he could say, "Arise, O LORD, into Your rest; You, and the ark of Your strength" (verse 8).
The title David chooses is not the obvious one. Jacob was the schemer of the family, and that is the point:
Jacob is so much like ourselves that our hearts keep echoing, "This might be myself!" The failures, the wilfulness, the scheming, the lack of faith, the turning to the world, are, sadly, paths only too well known to some of us. For this reason we rejoice. Our God so often speaks of Himself as "The God of Jacob", and so very rarely as "The God of Abraham"... In the Psalms we find "The God of Jacob" thirteen times, and "The God of Abraham" once. And remember that "Jacob" means "Cheater" or "Deceiver", while "Abraham" means "The Father of Many Nations."
The place David wanted was where the ark would stand, and to him the ark meant the Lord Himself. His son Solomon never valued it that way:
The ark was everything for David. For him it meant the Lord, the Mighty One of Jacob (Ps. 132:5), and worship belonged wherever the ark was. Solomon did not rise to the height of these blessings, and he did not enjoy the closeness of this relationship with God. He went no further than the ordinary religious level of his people.
The psalm is built as a dialogue. What David seeks in this verse, God settles later in His own words:
In Psalm 132 we see the same kind of change. In verse 5, David seeks a dwelling place for God; in verse 13, God answers by choosing Zion. In verse 8, David says, "Arise, O LORD, into Your rest; You, and the ark of Your strength." In verse 14, God answers, "This is My rest for ever: here will I dwell; for I have desired it."
Read the two halves side by side and the replies are not merely equal to the requests:
When God meets our thoughts, wants, and feelings, He is answering according to the measure of our need. There is something better: He lifts us up to Himself, and there He goes beyond all the desires of our hearts and minds. In Psalm 132 David asks for certain blessings, and God surpasses each desire: compare verse 8 with verse 13, verse 9 with verse 16, and verse 10 with verse 17.
Commentators read the psalm beyond David, to the One his life pictured:
This is written of Him, the true David, the man of affliction: He swore to the LORD and vowed to the Mighty One of Jacob that He would not come into His house, nor go up to His bed, nor give sleep to His eyes, until He found a place for the LORD. If, then, Christ has gone up to His rest, it is because His vow is accomplished: He has found a place for Jacob's God, and in Zion God will rest for ever.
Few in Israel missed the ark while it was away. That contrast turns the verse into a question about our own affections:
How few souls in Israel seem to have grieved over the absence of the ark from the land! Yet it should have been — and to every devout Israelite it was — the most sacred and cherished object in the tabernacle... See with what affection David speaks or sings of this symbol of the Lord's presence among them... Oh, that the One the ark pointed to, our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, might have the same place in our thoughts and affections.
- The desire. David gave up comfort and sleep until the Lord had a place. One affection overpowered every other.
- The title. He called on the Mighty One of Jacob. God names Himself after the deceiver far more often than after Abraham, and so after people like us.
- The centre. The ark was everything to David. Worship belonged where the ark was, and Solomon never reached that closeness.
- The answer. What David sought in verse 5, God granted in verse 13 by choosing Zion. He gives more than we ask.
- The fulfilment. Commentators see the vow completed in the true David, Christ. Our part is to give Him that same place in our affections.
Behold, we heard of it at Ephratah, we found it in the fields of the wood.
In this psalm David looks back to a memory: he heard of something at Ephratah and later found it in open country among trees. The verse never says what "it" is, so two questions come first — what is he speaking about, and why did finding it matter?
The verse never names its object. The psalm supplies it a few lines later. Note that the commentators quote an older translation, which reads "the fields of the wood" where the ESV has "the fields of Jaar."
"Lo, we heard of it at Ephratah" (verse 6), and Ephratah was the ancient name of Bethlehem, and David's birthplace. But what was the "it"? Clearly, the ark, which is mentioned in verse 8. We know this because verse 6 adds, "we found it in the fields of the wood." That is how he describes Kirjath-Jearim, the place from which he finally brought the ark up to Jerusalem.
Commentators differ over which Ephratah is meant. One view prefers a district rather than the town:
One writer, however, says the Ephratah of this Psalm "seems to be certainly not Bethlehem … but the district where Kirjath-jearim stood, Caleb-ephratah." (1 Chr. 2:24.) But we prefer the interpretation given above.
Between hearing and finding lies a whole life: a boy at his father's home, then a king on the throne. The ark itself was the chest that marked God's presence with Israel.
It seems clear, then, that David loved the ark from his earliest days, when he lived with his father at Bethlehem. His bringing it to Zion was simply the expression of that early affection. The Spirit of God recalls this here to the minds of His people, and endorses it with His approval. At Ephratah they had only heard of the ark. They found it in the fields of the wood — that is, in Kirjath-jearim, "city of the woods" — when David was king and determined to bring it to Zion.
Where the ark was says something about how Israel valued it. A wooded field is not a sanctuary.
They heard of the ark in the place of its neglect, after it had been in the hands of the enemy. They find it "in the fields of the wood," as something forgotten and worthless in the eyes of the nation (See 1 Chr. 13:3-5). "The fields of the wood," or "the fields of Jair," is probably a poetic allusion to Kirjath-jearim, meaning "the city of woods," where David found the ark.
One reading sees a greater figure standing behind David. The birthplace named in this verse points the same way.
The ark, pledge of the covenant, the pledge of God's rest, was heard of at Ephratah, and found in the fields of the wood. Possibly there is an allusion here to Christ's birthplace, or to when David was small and despised there, as the Root of David was. His heart was secretly on the ark of the covenant of His God, which the apostasy of His people had thrown aside. (David was the type of grace after apostasy.) He could have no rest until a home for it was found.
Verses 6 and 7 shift to "we." Those who speak them take up David's desire as their own, and speak of worship before the house they hope for even exists.
At that point in history there was only the ark inside its tent. But for faith this was the pledge that the house would be built (compare Hebrews 12:22-24). So the Spirit of God can lead the hearts of His willing people to say, "We will go into His tabernacles: we will worship at His footstool." … With faith alive and at work — the faith that gives substance to the things hoped for — they are already in spirit inside the sacred courts of the house, bending low before Jehovah in adoration.
David's search could be mistaken for personal preference. The psalm rules that out later in the same song.
We might think, from the 5th verse, that it was merely David's choice. We might say, "Well, can we not find out a place for the Lord? Are we not free to choose any place that seems nice and convenient to us?" No, no! David found the place that was God's place — you will find that very clearly in verse 13. … David found the place God appointed, the place that the Lord had chosen. To that place he brought the Ark of the Covenant for the Lord.
- Heard — Ephratah is the old name for Bethlehem, David's birthplace. The "it" of this verse is the ark, named in verse 8.
- Sought — that early love stayed with him, and the Spirit of God recalls it here with His approval.
- Found — "the fields of the wood" points to Kirjath-jearim, "city of woods." There the ark lay, counted worthless by the nation.
- Brought — David did not pick a convenient spot; he brought the ark to the place God had chosen, which verse 13 names.
- Rested — faith treats the ark in its tent as the pledge of the house, and worships at God's footstool before seeing it.
Let us go into his habitations, let us worship at his footstool.
Psalm 132 looks back to David's vow to find a resting place for the ark. Verse 7 is what that vow stirs in other hearts: a people who go in and bow down, asking where God's dwelling is, what His footstool is, and who chooses the place.
Verse 6 traces the ark to a forgotten place. Verse 7 is the sudden turn that follows, and one writer hears in it a heart waking up.
But now comes the call to return: "Let us go to His dwelling place; let us worship at His footstool." The sudden, urgent tone of the words fits exactly. The heart is now awake, and sees its ungrateful neglect of Him who has come down to man in grace.
A faithful few took up David's longing. They looked for the ark where the nation had left it.
So the godly remnant make David's thoughts their own, and his desires become their desires. Like David, they long for the ark to have its true place among God's people. They heard of the ark where it lay neglected, after it had been in the hands of the enemy. They find it "in the fields of the wood," treated as something forgotten and worthless in the eyes of the nation. "The fields of the wood," or "the fields of Jair," is probably a poetic reference to Kirjath-jearim, meaning "the city of woods," where David found the ark.
"His footstool" is not just poetry. One writer ties it back to David's search for a resting place.
Through all his troubles David gave himself no rest until he had found a resting place for the ark of the covenant of the Lord. It had to be a place where the covenant kept inside the ark could settle at last for God's people, with no more journeys across the desert and no more upheavals in the hands of the Philistines. This rest of God was also the rest of "the footstool of His feet," for the ark was the throne of God, who sat between the cherubim — the throne He had set up among His people.
A throne and a footstool are not the same. One writer sets them side by side.
If the throne speaks of God's government joined to the glory that dwells there, the phrase "the place of the soles of My feet" brings in the thought of worship (Ps. 99:5; Ps. 132:7).
No temple stood when the people said this. There was only a tent for the ark. Yet they speak as if they are already inside.
At that point in history there was only the ark inside its tent. But for faith this was the pledge that the house would be built (compare Hebrews 12:22-24). So the Spirit of God can lead the hearts of His willing people to say, "Let us go to His dwelling place; let us worship at His footstool." Their faith is alive and active — the faith that gives substance to the things hoped for — so in spirit they are already inside the house, bowing low before the Lord in worship.
Can we pick a place for the Lord that simply suits us?
No, no! David found the place that was God's place — you can see it plainly in verse 13. After he brought the ark back, David says, "Arise, O Lord, and go to Your resting place, You and the ark of Your might." "For the Lord has chosen Zion; He has desired it for His dwelling place: 'This is My resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it.'" David found the place God appointed, the place the Lord had chosen, and there he brought the ark of the covenant for the Lord.
One writer turns the psalm's question on readers today.
Do we know His centre — in spirit, His "resting place forever" — where He dwells? There He waits until, in His own time, He sets up temple worship in Israel, a place marked by praise that God orders and accepts, where the blessed One the ark pictured lives — the once-rejected King. "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them." What a holy place!
Give the Lord that place, and rest follows.
When the Lord has His rightful place in our affections, the soul finds a rest it would never know otherwise.
- Heard — word came of the ark where the nation had left it, after enemy hands had held it.
- Found — it lay "in the fields of the wood," counted worthless by the nation; finding it wakes the heart to its own neglect.
- Enter — faith walks into the dwelling before the house exists, standing in spirit where only a tent then stood.
- Bow — the footstool is the ark, God's throne among His people; the throne speaks of His government, the footstool draws out worship.
- Rest — the place is God's choice, not ours; when He has His rightful place, the soul finds a rest it would never know otherwise.
Arise, Jehovah, into thy rest, thou and the ark of thy strength.
Psalm 132 follows David's search for a dwelling place for God, and verse 8 is the prayer that crowns it. Two questions sit inside it. What is the "rest" God enters? And what is the "ark" that goes in with Him?
The wording echoes an older cry from the wilderness, but turns it around:
The point to notice in our Psalm is the contrast. In the wilderness it was, "Arise, O LORD, and let your enemies be scattered." Here it is, "Arise, O Lord, into Your rest; You, and the ark of Your strength." To faith the goal was reached as soon as the ark reached Zion, and all the enemies were scattered. This will indeed be the case before Messiah, as the Priest upon His throne, builds His temple and bears the glory (Zechariah 6:12-13).
(The writers quote an older translation of the verse: "into Your rest ... the ark of Your strength." The ESV reads "go to your resting place ... the ark of your might.")
This prayer follows a disaster. The Philistines had captured the ark, and the usual way of approach to God stopped with it.
First of all, David's sufferings are the basis of everything, that is, Christ. Next comes sovereign grace. Even responsibility, under the mercy declared through Moses, came to an end when the Philistines captured the ark. There could be no day of atonement, no blood on the mercy-seat. Ichabod was written on everything — God had "delivered his strength into captivity, his glory into the enemy's hands." Sovereign grace raised up Samuel the prophet, and then David. David brought the ark, not into the tabernacle at all, but to Mount Zion. Zion was in this way the seat of sovereign grace in power, in contrast with Sinai. God is called on to "arise into his rest," for He will rest in His love.
("Ichabod" means the glory has departed — the name given when the ark was lost.)
David prepared for the house but never built it. His son Solomon spoke the words of this verse, and they still point past that day:
Though David could say, "I have prepared with all my might for the house of my God" (1 Chronicles 29:2-3), he was not allowed to build the temple. He did find "a place for the Lord" in Jerusalem and pitched a tent for it there. But that was only temporary, a preparation for the building of the temple. It was the lips of Solomon that spoke the words of Psalm 132:8-9, as recorded in 2 Chronicles 6:41. In the same way we wait for the moment when Jehovah and His Christ — who is the true "ark of His strength" — shall enter into their permanent rest.
The ark travelled on carrying poles. One writer weighs the day those poles come out for good:
The longing of David, "the man after God's heart," is now fulfilled. After all his afflictions, he is given the thing he would "not give sleep to his eyes" for. In the fullness of his joy he looks ahead and says, "Arise, O Lord, into Your rest; You, and the ark of Your strength" (Psalm 132:8). God cannot enter His rest until He brings His people into it too. So everything waits until the conflict with sin is over forever — all settled by God, and settled forever. The carrying poles will be drawn out then, and not before, when our Lord's journey with His blood-bought people through the wilderness is over: "So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God" (Hebrews 4:9). Even then the poles will still be visible. They will keep the past in memory, and stir fresh and endless praise.
This prayer rests on the sufferings of David.
In Psalm 132, Solomon pleads with Jehovah to arise into the rest he had prepared for Him, and to fill it with glory and blessing. The ground of his plea is his father's afflictions... So the afflictions of David were remembered amid the glories of Solomon. In the same way the Lamb that was slain shall be in the midst of the throne. As our fallen earth bears everywhere the trail of the serpent, so will the kingdom wear the traces of the blood of the Lamb.
The psalm does not end with the petition. God replies later in the same psalm, and the reply is larger than what was asked.
In Psalm 132, David seeks a home for God in verse 5, and in verse 13 God answers by choosing Zion. In verse 8, David says, "Arise, O LORD, into Your rest; You, and the ark of Your strength." In verse 14, God answers, "This is My rest forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it."
- Ground — the prayer stands on David's afflictions, and so on Christ. The kingdom to come will still carry the marks of the Lamb who was slain.
- Grace — the ark's capture wrote "the glory has departed" over everything. Only sovereign grace could raise up David and set the ark on Zion.
- Gift — the ark of His strength is Christ Himself. Solomon spoke these words, but the full answer is still ahead.
- Gathering — God will not enter His rest without His people. The carrying poles come out only when the wilderness journey ends.
- Greater — God answers the prayer Himself. This is His rest forever, a place He chose because He desired it.
Let thy priests be clothed with righteousness, and let thy saints shout for joy.
Psalm 132 pleads with the Lord to come into His resting place with the ark, and verse 9 names what should follow: priests clothed as they should be, and a people shouting for joy. Two questions sit inside it: what is it for a priest to be "clothed with righteousness," and what does God do with a prayer like this?
Verse 9 was not only written; it was prayed aloud. One writer traces it to the day Solomon dedicated the temple, and then on to a rest still to come.
David could say, "I have set my affection to the house of my God," and so, "I have prepared with all my might for the house of my God" (1 Chron. 29:2-3). Yet he was not allowed to build the temple. He did find "a place for the Lord" in Jerusalem and pitched a tabernacle for it there. But that was only temporary, a preparation for building the temple. It was the lips of Solomon that spoke the words of Psalm 132:8-9, as recorded in 2 Chr. 6:41. In the same way we wait for the moment when Jehovah and His Christ — who is the true "ark of His strength" — shall enter into their permanent rest.
Verse 9 sits inside a short run of requests, and each request asks for something different.
Verses 8 to 10 present the prayer of the godly to the Lord. First, they pray that the Lord would come among them. He would find His rest in His tabernacle, and His righteous power to bless His people in the ark of His strength. The ark, we know, speaks of Christ. Then they pray that the priests may be clothed with righteousness — that their practical ways may be in accord with their holy office. Third, they pray that the Lord's people may shout for joy. Finally they pray that the King may be established in the favour of the Lord.
One writer sets this clothing against the first man and woman, who had no covering before God.
We are not now like Adam and Eve. They hid away from God's presence because they knew they were guilty and had no covering before Him. Our guilt has been purged away. We are clothed with righteousness and salvation (Ps. 132:9, 16), just as the sons of Aaron were clothed in linen garments when they were set apart as priests. For we are God's priests.
Verse 16 answers this prayer, but not in the same words.
So the desire (v. 9) is that Jehovah's priests be clothed with righteousness, as John the Baptist's father was. The answer (v. 16) is, "I will also clothe her priests with salvation" — the full and final deliverance of God. The desire is right: righteousness becomes them. The answer is from God, and becomes Him in the power of His grace. The desire again (v. 9) is that His saints may shout for joy. All right: the renewed heart must desire the prosperity and joy of God's chosen. And God will give it abundantly (v. 16): "her saints shall shout aloud for joy."
The prayer says "Your priests." God's reply uses a different word, and the change matters.
Faith had said "Your priests" and "Your saints," and they truly were Jehovah's. But in His reply He says "her" (Zion's) priests and "her" saints. So Jehovah identifies Himself with Zion, and credits to her what belonged to Him. It is the blessed association of Zion and the priests and saints with Himself. The Christian will understand this, knowing how completely he is associated with Christ in every aspect and relationship, and how the Lord shares with His own all that He Himself has acquired in virtue of redemption, so that they can be described as "heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ."
The word behind "saints" here does not point first to being separate from evil.
"And her pious ones" — not holy ones, in the sense of separate from evil, but godly, with a heart for God.
- Place first. Verse 9 follows verse 8. The Lord takes His resting place first; then come clothed priests and singing people.
- Prayer. Three requests follow that rest: right ways in the priests, joy in the people, favour on the king.
- Garment. Righteousness is a priest's clothing. Those who wear it draw near, instead of hiding as Adam and Eve did.
- Answer. God gives more than they ask. They ask for righteousness; He promises salvation — His full and final deliverance.
- Ownership. In the reply they are no longer only "Your priests" but Zion's — God credits His own people to the place He has chosen.
For thy servant David's sake, turn not away the face of thine anointed.
Psalm 132 looks back to David's afflictions and his longing to find a dwelling place for God. Verse 10 asks God not to refuse His anointed king — and the reason given is David, not the king himself.
One commentator explains the event behind the psalm, and where it points:
It is founded on David bringing the ark of the covenant up to Zion. That was grace acting by power. Israel had failed so completely that the bond between the people and God was wholly broken, and the ark had gone into captivity. But now a home was found for the mighty God of Jacob. The fruit of David's body, the Messiah of Jehovah, was to sit on His throne for evermore.
One commentator points out whose trouble the psalm is naming here:
The psalm speaks of David's trouble, not of the nation's affliction. To him God had made promises. As God's anointed he had suffered much. But this language, so suited to him, will suit the faithful remnant of Israel in the same way. They with their fathers have failed, but God had made promises to David. Where they could not speak of themselves, they could tell of the promises. David had died, but the promises held good: his children had failed, but God's words could not.
Solomon closed his own prayer with these words. One writer points out what Solomon's request admits:
These words are taken from Psalm 132. In this song, the object of David's afflictions was to find a habitation for the Mighty One of Jacob. This habitation had now been found, but in the imperfection which Solomon's request reveals. God in that Psalm then responds to the king's desire expressed in Chronicles. He shows him Zion, His house, His priesthood, His Anointed, as He sees them in their eternal perfection in answer to sufferings of Christ, the true David.
The verse therefore has two figures in it, and both point the same way:
Of course, in this David is a type of Christ, for whose sake God cannot in the least turn away His face from His Anointed, who is clearly Christ also.
One commentator reads the two names as two pleas held together, and notes what the verse leaves unsaid:
I think the plea here is a double one, complete in its two parts. Christ in His Person and work is represented in "David" and in Jehovah's "Anointed." But the prayer does not name the work itself. What it asks Jehovah to remember is Christ's own appointment to that work, and the testimony given of His delight in that appointment. He had made no mistake.
This kind of prayer — asking on the strength of someone else — carries straight into Christian prayer:
Notice again that the ground of the plea is still David: "For the sake of your servant David, do not turn away the face of your anointed one." The believer will enter into this, because he knows that God hears all his prayers only as they come in and through the One whom David pictures. What power and what perseverance in prayer this should give to the Lord's people, as they remember that they can plead all the infinite acceptability of Christ Himself before God!
In the second half of the psalm God replies, and He answers the petitions one by one:
Verse 13 shows God's sovereign choice. Then notice this: each time, God's promise in answer goes beyond what was asked (compare verses 14-15 with 8, 16 with 9, and 17-18 with 10). This is of the highest interest, because it shows the grace of the Lord, and how His love goes beyond all the hopes of His people.
Verse 10 asked only that God would not turn His face away. Verses 17-18 answer with power, light and a crown:
In verse 17 the horn of David stands for power, and that power will grow in a wonderful way, for it speaks of the power of the Messiah, the Son of David. God's Anointed, the Lord Jesus, will show a lamp of renewed light in Israel, while His enemies will be clothed with shame. On the Messiah the crown of glory will flourish.
- Ground. The prayer names no merit of its own; it pleads David — his vow, his afflictions, and the promises God attached to him.
- Gift. Those promises outlived the man. David died and his sons failed, yet God's word to him still stood as something a later generation could hold.
- Reach. The "anointed" reaches past Solomon to Christ. God will not turn His face away from Him.
- Access. Christian prayer follows the same pattern. God hears us on Christ's acceptability, not our own.
- Result. God's answer always goes past the asking. A face not turned away becomes power, a lamp of light, and a crown of glory.
Jehovah hath sworn [in] truth unto David; he will not turn from it Of the fruit of thy body will I set upon thy throne;
Psalm 132 lays David's afflictions before God, and this verse is His answer — a sworn oath about a throne and a descendant. Which descendant did God mean, and what holds the promise up once David's line collapses?
One writer notes that this sworn word held firm when everything visible said otherwise:
The promise had seemed to fail; instead of prosperity there had come affliction. Zion was a place of ruins rather than a city of holy feasts. Still the covenant remained; Jehovah had sworn in truth to David (verse 11). Nor would He turn from the word that He had spoken, for He is not a man that He should change His mind. The faith of Israel's believing remnant will hold fast this word. They will hold to the testimonies of the One who cannot lie. In the last days their appeals to Jehovah will rest on nothing else.
Verse 11 and verse 12 are not the same kind of statement. One commentator draws the line: the oath is settled, and what follows carries an "if":
This is God carrying out His truth to David — "The Lord has sworn… He will not turn from it. Of the fruit of your body I will set upon your throne"; that is a settled point. Then comes a conditional promise of righteousness, true only in Christ the Lord — "If your children keep My covenant, then," and so on. … This was the answer to David's affliction — in Christ, the fruit of his body was set upon his throne.
That condition was broken. Another writer traces the cost, and what survived:
Verse 12 puts a condition on David's sons: they had to keep God's covenant. If they did, those sons would continue to sit on David's throne. Of course, we know that David's sons soon abandoned God's covenant. For centuries no one has continued on the throne of David. But God has overcome this great difficulty. The Lord Jesus, "Great David's Greater Son," will yet sit on the throne of David.
Solomon did sit on David's throne, so the natural reading stops there. But the New Testament's own use of this verse points past him:
Compare 2 Samuel 7:14 with Hebrews 1:5, Psalm 132:11 with Acts 2:30, and Isaiah 55:3 with Acts 13:34. These pairs at once assure us that Christ, and not Solomon, is the real and substantial Son of David — both in the message of Nathan and in the Psalm I have referred to.
One writer sees the promise about David's children narrow to a single person:
A conditional pledge about his children follows. But there is One Seed, one special Anointed, or Messiah, who shines through it all. He is the true David and his Seed alike. He is the one who, by His sufferings and His heart for God, secures the abiding presence of Jehovah with His people. The shadows pass, because they are but shadows; but the kingship abides for the sake of the Man after God's heart.
The oath promises a descendant from David's own body (older translations read "the fruit of your body"). One writer shows why two family lines are needed — Mary's and Joseph's:
The reality of the Lord's manhood lay in His being born of Mary, who was "the Virgin" of David's house. If He had not been Son of God really on the other side, the truth of His Godhead would have been overthrown. If He had not held Solomon's legal rights through Joseph, His supposed father, He was not the true Messiah of Jehovah's oath to David.
The heir was killed. That is where the resurrection enters as the guarantee of this promise:
But Israel rejected and killed their Messiah. Humanly speaking, at this point, all was lost. But what did God do? He "raised Him from among the dead, no more to return to corruption," and said, "I will give to you the faithful mercies of David." God had promised David a descendant to sit on his throne. That promise is certain, sure and unchangeable. To fulfil it, God raised up Christ from among the dead.
- Sworn. God answers David's affliction with an oath of His own. It is a settled point, not a proposal, and He will not turn from it.
- Split. Verse 11 is unconditional. Verse 12 adds an "if" for David's sons — and they broke it, leaving the throne empty for centuries.
- Seed. The oath was not fulfilled in Solomon. Scripture's own cross-references point to Christ as the Son of David the psalm means.
- Son. "The sons of your body" is literal: born of Mary of David's house, with legal title through Joseph. The oath is met on both sides.
- Sure. Death seemed to end the line. The resurrection made the mercies of David sure, so a believing remnant can still plead this word and nothing else.
If thy children keep my covenant, and my testimonies which I will teach them, their children also for evermore shall sit upon thy throne.
In verse 11 God swears an oath about David's throne that He will never take back. Verse 12 adds an "if": the same throne now hangs on whether David's sons keep His covenant.
The psalm makes one promise to David and another to his descendants. One commentator shows that the change from certainty to condition matches a change in who is in view.
The promise to David that flows out of verse 10 is twofold — absolute and conditional. In verse 11 it is the expression of the divine purpose: "The LORD swore to David a sure oath from which he will not turn back: 'One of the sons of your body I will set on your throne.'" As a matter of history, we might say this was fulfilled when Solomon came to the throne. But the whole Psalm is prophetic, so Christ as the Son of David is doubtless included here. Verse 12 adds the condition of keeping the LORD's covenant and testimony, and there it is David's natural heirs who are in view. So when Christ, as the Son of David, is before the mind of the Spirit, the promise is unconditional. It is the announcement of God's purpose in grace. But when David's children, his immediate descendants, are in view, their staying on his throne depends on their responsibility — on their keeping God's law, and walking according to His commandments.
The verse asks the sons to keep "my covenant and my testimonies." One writer says plainly what that phrase means.
Verse 12 refers to the covenant and the testimony, that is, the law.
One writer weighs the small word that carries this condition. He finds that it shuts out pure grace.
We would be standing on the ground of pure grace here, if only there were not an if. "There shall not fail you a man to sit before me on the throne of Israel, if only your sons pay close attention to their way, to walk before me as you have walked before me." How this "if only" condemns us all! It absolutely condemned wise Solomon, and how much more ourselves, a worthless lot. Where getting anything from the Lord depends on our own responsibility, we are condemned from the start.
David's sons did not keep the condition. One writer reads verse 12 as the key to that long record of failure, and as a promise that survives it.
In contrast with this we then have the conditional promise of verse 12. Here is what explains the long history of failure. Like the promise about Abraham's seed, this one has two different applications, and in some sense they stand in contrast. The fulfilment seems unsteady and uncertain until the eye rests on Christ. Then, through Him at last, even the promise on the lower plane is secured.
Another writer sets the lost throne beside two older losses. In each one, grace gave the gift and obedience had to hold it.
In grace God chose and exalted David. He sustained him and gave him victory after victory, until there was no evil or enemy left. He set his throne in peaceful glory, in the person of his son Solomon. But then the family of David had to keep the throne of David on terms of obedience. We know they lost the throne, as the tribes of Israel lost the land, and Adam the Garden.
Verses 13 and 14 turn to God's own choice of Zion. One writer sees in that choice the security that the "if" of verse 12 will be answered.
The two principles of law and grace each have their illustration in this Psalm. There is the building of David and the building of God. So verse 12 gives an account of conditional promise to the natural seed. But the LORD's own choosing will, which picks Zion for a lasting habitation (verses 13, 14), is the declared security that God will fulfil the condition as surely as He fulfils the promises of the covenant, in the Person of the Lord Christ.
- Sworn throne. Verse 11 is God's purpose, sworn and unchangeable. Commentators read it as reaching past Solomon to Christ, the Son of David.
- Conditioned throne. Verse 12 speaks of David's natural descendants. Their place on the throne depends on keeping God's covenant and testimony — that is, the law.
- Forfeited throne. They did not keep it, and that failure explains the empty throne, just as Israel lost the land and Adam the Garden.
- Condemning "if." Anything we must hold by our own obedience is lost from the start. That "if" condemned Solomon, the wisest of David's sons, and it condemns us too.
- Secured throne. God's own choice of Zion is the security that both the condition and the promise are met in Christ. Even the earthly fulfilment is certain at last.
For Jehovah hath chosen Zion; he hath desired it for his dwelling
Psalm 132 opens with David searching for a place for the LORD. At verse 13 the speaker changes: God Himself answers, and names the place He had already chosen. Everything the psalm goes on to promise — God's rest and His blessing — hangs on this one sentence about Zion.
One writer puts the obvious question, then answers it:
It was not merely David's choice. Verse 5 might make us think it was. We might say, "Well, can we not find a place for the Lord ourselves? Are we not free to choose any place that seems nice and convenient to us?" No, no! David found the place that was God's place — you will see that clearly in verse 13.
The psalm runs as a dialogue. David asks, and God replies:
In Psalm 132, there is a similar change; in verse 5, David seeks a habitation for God; in verse 13, God answers by choosing Zion. In verse 8, David says, "Arise, O LORD, and come to your resting place, you and the ark of your strength"; in verse 14, God answers, "This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it."
The same writer notes that this pattern runs through the psalm. Each answer goes past what David asked: verses 14-15 answer verse 8, verse 16 answers verse 9, and verses 17-18 answer verse 10.
God chose Zion after Israel's failure had run its full course, not at some high point in its history:
The psalm rests on David bringing the ark up to Zion... This was grace acting in power. Israel had failed so completely that the tie between the people and God — so far as it rested on the people's responsibility — was wholly broken, and the ark had gone into captivity... But now, in a fuller and more lasting way, a dwelling place was found for the mighty God of Jacob, where the godly would bow low in worship before His footstool.
The same writer draws a contrast. Earlier, when the ark set out, God rose to scatter His enemies. Here His enemies lie scattered already, and He rises to take His rest.
God gives no cause outside Himself for choosing Zion. His own heart is the reason:
"For the LORD has chosen Zion; He has desired it for His dwelling place." Here we see how God rests in His love — because His heart is satisfied.
Some readers take Zion here as a symbol of something spiritual. One writer rejects that reading and holds to the hill itself:
He will dwell in Zion, the mountain of glory. The glory from above will find a resting place on that holy hill. There He will sit enthroned as King... It is the literal Zion and not something spiritual. Even good expositors of the Bible have missed the mark.
The verse also explains why the psalms that follow keep tying blessing to Zion:
There is a place of blessing, and in this case it is Zion. The reason lies in what we saw in the psalm before... So we learn again that God's blessing is found where He dwells, in His own home... In a future day Zion will be Jehovah's dwelling place, and for that reason it will be the place of blessing; but now the Church is the house of God. In both cases alike it is God's presence in His dwelling that secures the blessing.
One writer carries the principle over to today:
The same principle holds for the believer today. When the Lord has His rightful place in the affections, the soul reaches a rest it would otherwise never know.
- Chosen — David hunted for a place. Verse 13 shows he only found the site God had already picked. The choice was never man's to make.
- Desired — God gives no reason beyond His own heart. He rests in Zion because He wanted to, and His heart is satisfied there.
- Answered — every prayer in verses 8-10 comes back enlarged in verses 14-18. God gives more than David asked for.
- Occupied — blessing follows the dwelling place. Where God lives, He secures the blessing: Zion in a coming day, the church now.
- Rested — the same rest shows up in a person. When the Lord holds His rightful place in the affections, the soul finds rest it would never know otherwise.
This is my rest for ever; here will I dwell, for I have desired it.
God speaks in this verse. Earlier David prays that the LORD would go to His resting place; from verse 13 the LORD Himself answers. He names Zion as the place He has chosen, and His only reason is His own desire.
Read the psalm in two halves and a pattern appears. God answers every prayer of the first half in the second — and gives more than David asked.
In Psalm 132, there is a similar change; in verse 5, David seeks a habitation for God; in verse 13, God answers by choosing Zion. In verse 8, David says, "Arise, O LORD, and go to your resting place, you and the ark of your might." In verse 14, God answers, "This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it."
What makes the answer more than a polite yes is that the asking itself came from God.
The desire is right according to man; the answer is according to God. The desire is right according to the divine nature and ways, but the blessing is according to the riches of grace... It is more than asked, clearly more. The heart led by God has been brought to desire what is God's desire and the object of His election.
The word "rest" marks a change. Under Moses the ark kept moving. At Zion it stops.
In Numbers 10 Moses said, "Arise, O LORD." He did not add, "and go to your resting place." The tabernacle in the wilderness could not be the rest of God. But Zion is the place that the LORD chose for His rest. He desired it for His habitation (v. 13). And David enters into the mind of God.
The reason God gives is not Zion's merit but His own wish. That joins two things which might have stayed apart — His settled purpose and His pleasure.
David's heart could have no rest till the LORD found His own rest... It is God's desire too. He has chosen Zion, so His counsel is secure. But He has also desired it for His habitation. His delight, as well as His counsel, is in it. This is immense blessing... Then God reveals that His desire is there, not only His counsel that glorifies Him in this way, but His delight too. He desires Zion for His habitation. So His habitation and His rest become one (v. 14).
Desire explains what kind of rest this is.
Here we see, indeed, how God rests in His love — because His heart is satisfied.
Zion was not Israel's high point of obedience. God took it up after everything else had collapsed.
They were taken up from the depth of ruin, and Zion was won only after that state of ruin... it is not only great activity of goodness; it is perfect goodness shown after everything had been lost. This is grace... not only was David an object of divine choice, but Zion as well! Nor need we wonder, because God in this too was thinking of Christ as King. There had He anointed His Son.
A small change of pronoun in the answer shows how completely God ties His people into what is His own.
In the desire they are the LORD's priests and the LORD's saints — "your priests," "your saints." The same holds for "the rest": the answer repeats it (compare verses 8 and 14). But as to Zion, This is my resting place. And this is what we want: nothing else will do or would be rest. But as to the priests and saints the answer does not say "your," but "her," that is, Zion's... so perfectly does God own the complete association of His people with Him in rest and blessing.
The order matters: God's rest comes first, and the blessings follow.
All the blessing promised in answer to the prayer in verses 8-10 flows from, or is tied to, God carrying out His purpose about Zion, finding His rest, and dwelling there... whatever the age, it is still true that all blessing depends on God's rest and His dwelling among His people.
The verse still waits for its full answer. That answer reaches past Zion.
Zion is the election of God's sovereign grace; and... there, when Christ is King, will be His full earthly rest. Believers today know that there is another and a higher rest... Whether in Zion or in heaven, that rest is connected with Christ. In Him God has found His infinite satisfaction and delight. In Him He will rest for ever, and we also, through His grace, shall share in His rest.
- Desire. God's reason for choosing Zion is His own desire — not Zion's worth, and not David's effort.
- Choice. Election stands behind that desire: His purpose is secure, and His delight rests in the same place.
- Rest. The wilderness tabernacle could never be His rest; Zion is where the ark stops moving and God settles.
- Dwelling. He does not rest alone — "your priests" become "her priests," and He shares His rest with His people.
- Blessing. Every promise that follows flows from God dwelling among His own, and the answer always runs past the prayer.
I will abundantly bless her provision; I will satisfy her needy ones with bread;
Psalm 132 begins as a prayer: the people ask the Lord to rise up and enter His resting place. From verse 13 on God answers them, and verse 15 gives more than they asked for.
God answers every request in the psalm, and each time He gives more than the prayer asked for.
The Psalmist prays, "Let your priests be clothed with righteousness." The answer is, "I will also clothe her priests with salvation." He prays again, "Let your saints shout for joy." The answer goes out, "Her saints shall shout aloud for joy." Then God adds more: "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread." That recalls the apostle's words, "far more abundantly than all that we ask or think."
Nobody had asked for food. The prayer was about God's rest, His priests, His anointed one. God adds the bread Himself.
The promise has a starting point. Writers link it to the day the ark was carried up to Zion and set in its place.
As soon as the ark is set on Zion, the blessing flows out to the people: "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread." Here again we have the thought of sovereign choice connected with Zion. This time the choice is also connected with the ark. The ark, with its mercy seat, speaks of Christ. So we learn that the full meaning of Mount Zion is the power of God's sovereign grace, working for the blessing of man through Christ. When everything has been lost through man's failure, all blessing is secured by the sovereign grace of God, flowing to us righteously on the ground of all that Christ is and has done.
God living among His people is why nothing runs short. The verse also names who receives the food.
With God living among them, His people could not lack, for it is in His heart to bless them at all times beyond their greatest desires. So the Lord, when He was on earth, challenged His disciples: "When I sent you out with no moneybag or knapsack or sandals, did you lack anything?" They said, "Nothing." His presence secured everything for them, as it always does when we grasp it and count on it. We can understand, then, this generous promise of Jehovah's grace. At the same time we confess with sorrow that we, like Israel of old, often limit our God by our unbelief. Think much, then, on the words: "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread." And remember that it is the poor who are so satisfied.
One writer sees Jesus doing this very thing when He fed the crowd.
He shows Himself as the Jehovah of Psalm 132: "I will satisfy her poor with bread." He shows that here, and they own Him as a prophet. Then they are going to take Him by force and make Him a king. That gives two of Christ's titles. But He will not be king in this worldly way. He goes up into the mountain and takes the place of priest. Here is Christ, who would not be king, was a prophet, and intercedes on high, while His people toil below.
That feeding was a sample, not the full promise. One writer sees the verse pointing on to a coming day for Zion.
Then the feeding time will come. No longer will there be famine in the land; never again will there be "death in the pot." Of Zion it is written: "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15). The Lord Jesus gave a foretaste of this when He fed the five thousand.
The end of the psalm sounds one note. One writer brings it home to the individual heart.
The characteristic note of the latter part of Psalm 132 is blessing. "I will abundantly bless her provisions… her saints shall shout aloud for joy." There is no blessing, no satisfaction, like that known by the soul in which Christ has His proper place of supremacy.
- Asked — the psalm prays for God's rest, His priests, His anointed one; no one asks for bread.
- Answered — God's reply goes past every request, adding food nobody thought to ask for.
- Anchored — the blessing flows from His chosen dwelling and the ark set on Zion, which speaks of Christ.
- Aimed — the promise lands on the poor; they are the ones God satisfies.
- Acted — Jesus fed the crowds and showed the promise at work; its full measure still lies ahead for Zion.
And I will clothe her priests with salvation, and her saints shall shout aloud for joy.
In verse 9 the people pray for two things: that the priests may wear righteousness, and that God's people may shout for joy. Verse 16 is God's reply, and it gives far more than the prayer asked for.
The promises of verses 13–18 belong to a day still to come. One writer ties them to Zechariah's picture of that day.
Zechariah 14 shows that the kingdom will be established after the deliverance of Jerusalem. It will not begin at the same moment, but when the glory of the Lord appears on the Mount of Olives. Then all the hindrances that kept Him from taking up His reign will have vanished... Zechariah's prophetic vision agrees with what we read in Psalm 132:13-18.
Verse 16 is not the only promise of its kind. A pattern runs through the psalm: each thing the people ask for comes back enlarged.
Nothing can be more striking than the goodness of God throughout this Psalm. God goes beyond all that is asked of Him. The prayer is, "Let Your priests be clothed with righteousness; and let Your saints shout for joy" (v. 9). But the answer is, "I will also clothe her priests with salvation; and her saints shall shout aloud for joy" (v. 16)... In every case the answer largely surpasses the request.
The prayer of verse 9 was about the priests' daily conduct.
Then they pray that the priests may be clothed with righteousness — that their daily ways may match their holy office. Thirdly, they pray that the Lord's people may shout for joy.
God does not refuse that prayer. His answer swaps righteousness for something else: salvation.
In verse 9 the desire is that Jehovah's priests be clothed with righteousness, as John the Baptist's father was. The answer in verse 16 is, "I will also clothe her priests with salvation" — the full, final deliverance of God. The desire is right: righteousness suits them. The answer is from God, and it suits Him in the power of His grace. The desire again is that His saints may shout for joy. That is right too: the renewed heart must desire the prosperity and joy of God's chosen. And God will give it abundantly: "her saints shall shout aloud for joy."
One writer compares the two coverings and explains who these shouting people are.
Grace more than answers the desire for its tender care: "I will also clothe her priests with salvation." That is a security greater than any personal righteousness of man. "And her pious ones" — not holy ones, in the sense of set apart from evil, but godly, with a heart for God — "shall shout." Yes, they shall shout aloud for joy.
One word changes between the prayer and the answer: "Your" becomes "her."
Faith had said "Your priests" and "Your saints," and they really were Jehovah's. But in His answer He says "her" (Zion's) priests and "her" saints. So Jehovah identifies Himself with Zion, and counts as hers what belonged to Him... The Christian will understand this. He knows how closely he is joined to Christ in every way and relationship. He knows that the Lord shares with His own all that He Himself has gained through redemption.
The ESV ends the verse with "shout for joy." Older translations read "shout aloud for joy." One writer first doubted that extra word, then took it back.
We had said that the word is the same as in the last clause of verse 9, so we thought the addition "aloud" was hardly justified. The word is the same, but its repetition was overlooked. In Hebrew, repeating a word intensifies its meaning. For example, Psalm 40:1 says, "I waited patiently for the Lord." Translated exactly, it would read, "In waiting I waited for the Lord." The repeated word gives a deeper and more lasting sense... It is beautiful to see how very far beyond the desires of His people God's heart answers their prayers.
- Asked — In verse 9 the people pray for priests clothed with righteousness and for saints who shout. The desire is right.
- Exceeded — He answers with salvation instead of righteousness and a louder shout than was asked for; the pattern holds through the whole psalm, where "in every case the answer largely surpasses the request."
- Secured — Salvation as clothing means "full, final deliverance." It is safer than any righteousness a person could produce.
- Shared — "Your priests" becomes "her priests." The Lord counts as Zion's what was His, just as He shares with His own all He has won.
- Sung — The repeated Hebrew word turns the shout into a shout aloud. God's reply runs further than the prayer that asked for it.
There will I cause the horn of David to bud forth; I have ordained a lamp for mine anointed.
Psalm 132 pairs prayers with God's answers, and verse 17 is one of the answers. It raises two questions: what are the horn and the lamp, and when will they shine?
The psalm sets prayers beside God's answers. Each answer gives more than the prayer asked for. One writer lines up the pairs, and this verse answers a plea for God's anointed. He quotes an older translation of the psalm.
The prayer is, "Let your priests be clothed with righteousness; and let your saints shout for joy." But the answer is, "I will also clothe her priests with salvation; and her saints will shout aloud for joy." Again the prayer is, "For your servant David's sake, do not turn away the face of your anointed." God answers, "There I will make the horn of David sprout." In every case God's answer goes far beyond the request.
The word "there" ties the promise to a place. God chose Zion for His rest, and there the horn will bud.
Zion is God's rest for ever. This is what He has chosen, and there He will make the horn of David sprout. The person of David's Son, royal grace in Zion, marks out the blessing. Whatever house is built, God remembers David and his trouble, not Solomon — a picture of David's son — and his house.
Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist, praised God for a deliverer raised up in David's house. One writer ties that praise to this verse, and follows the story to its end.
In Scripture, horns stand for power. Zacharias, speaking as a prophet by the Holy Spirit, praised the Lord God of Israel for raising up a horn of deliverance, or salvation, in the house of David His servant. No doubt Psalm 132:17-18 was in his mind as he said this. Zacharias expected that this prophecy, and many more like it, were about to be fulfilled in the baby soon to be born in David's house. That was not to be. The envy of Israel's leaders and the blindness of the unrepentant nation refused to acknowledge the rightful claims of the Messiah, and in the end they crucified Him. Israel's deliverance, so vividly described in the prophetic Scriptures, was put on hold. It waits for the great day when its all-powerful Deliverer will come from Zion. He will deal with their ungodliness and set them free from their enemies.
The lamp is linked to the anointing, and the light runs on through David's line to Christ.
In the Old Testament, anointing and the lamp appear together: "There I will make a horn to sprout for David; I have prepared a lamp for My anointed" (Ps. 132:17); "that David My servant may always have a lamp before Me" (1 Kings 11:36). Scripture calls David himself "the lamp of Israel" (2 Sam. 21:17), and in a far higher sense our Lord Jesus declares Himself "the light of the world" (John 8:12). So we see that oil is a picture of the Holy Spirit, that the anointing was by Him, and that the power for light or testimony comes from Him too.
God has prepared this lamp. So where does it burn today?
Where does this lamp shine now? Not on earth. Jerusalem, the place of its display on earth, is "trampled underfoot by the Gentiles." But faith can see it shining with undimmed brightness "in the true tabernacle," where it will keep shining "until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in."
When will the horn bud and the lamp shine in full?
Even the simplest reader will see at once that these words can only come true when God's King is set up on His holy hill of Zion. Then all God's purposes for His Anointed, for His chosen people, and for the nations of the earth will reach their full accomplishment.
Abraham saw this lamp from far off. The Lord will light it in His own time.
The "lamp" promised here will shine in the kingdom of the Son of David in a coming day. Abraham saw it from far off (Gen. 15:17), and so he saw Christ's "day" and "was glad." Both Christ and His people have longed for it all through the night-time of this present world (Isa. 62:1). In answer to that longing, the Lord Himself will light it up at the right time.
- Asked — David prayed that God would not turn away the face of His anointed. Verse 17 is the reply. Like every reply in this psalm, it gives more than the prayer asked.
- Placed — God chose Zion for His own rest. There the horn buds, and the person of David's Son marks out the blessing.
- Power — the horn means power. Zacharias saw it in the child born in David's house. Israel's leaders refused the deliverer God raised up, so the deliverance waits.
- Light — the lamp goes with the anointing. Scripture calls David Israel's lamp, and Christ calls Himself the light of the world. For now faith sees that light, not the city trampled underfoot.
- Coming — the full answer waits for God's King on His holy hill. Then the Lord will light the lamp Abraham saw from far off.
His enemies will I clothe with shame; but upon himself shall his crown flourish.
Psalm 132 is a prayer for the throne of David, and this last verse is God's answer. Who is the king it speaks of, and what does it mean for a crown to shine on him?
Verse 10 asked God not to turn away the face of His anointed. Verses 17 and 18 give back more than the prayer asked for, and that pattern runs through the whole psalm.
It is interesting to see how God deals with us. His explanations, His answers to prayer, all His replies to us, go beyond the occasion of the request. So in Psalm 132, the reply in each case goes beyond what is asked. Compare verses 13-15 with verse 8, verse 16 with verse 9, and verses 17, 18 with verse 10.
Three images close the psalm: a horn, a lamp, and a crown. One writer traces them back to the prayer in verse 10 and explains what each one stands for.
The prayer in verse 10 was that God would not turn away "the face of Your anointed." In answer, God makes the horn of David bud; He appoints a lamp for His anointed, and upon Himself shall His crown flourish. A lamp is a picture of something that bears witness to a thing and shows that it is true and real. Here it refers, no doubt, to 2 Chronicles 21:7; 1 Kings 11:36, 15:4. The horn is, of course, a symbol of power, and a crown the sign of rule.
Older translations end the verse with "his crown shall flourish," where the ESV has "his crown will shine." "Flourish" is the word used for growing things: a crown that buds and blossoms instead of fading. The same picture of a new season covers the kingdom and its people:
after-note-none
The half-open flowers are the emblem of a new season, of the beginning of spring. Thus these emblems are not only those of the kingdom, but also emblems of those who belong there. There will be perfect harmony between the glories of the kingdom and those who will have part in it... He is the true Son of David, and upon Himself shall His crown flourish.
The wording is exact. The crown is not just promised to David's children — it flourishes on one head.
Then the horn of David is "to bud," and God appoints "a lamp" for His Anointed — "On himself shall his crown flourish." It is not merely "their children." This shows us who David is in the prophets.
The two halves of the verse happen together. Shame covers the enemies as the crown buds, and nothing after that breaks it off.
And here, in the everlasting city, the horn of David's power will bud at last, with nothing to check or interrupt it. "I will set in order a lamp for My Anointed." Now there is final triumph: "His enemies will I clothe with shame; but upon Himself shall His crown flourish."
Shame is all that is left of the opposition. One writer puts it plainly:
And in the Psalm, there are no more enemies left; they are all clothed with shame.
Verse 17 begins with "there." That small word fixes where all of this happens.
The answer in verses 17, 18 is also more: the horn of David is to bud; God appoints a lamp there for Him, and His crown shall flourish on Him. That is, He goes beyond the wish. But note it is "there" — in Zion. Christ literally is King there, as in Psalm 2.
Love for Christ makes His crowning something we want for Him.
For do we not "love Him because He first loved us"? Then, truly, we shall desire earnestly that "upon Himself shall His crown flourish."
- Asked — David prayed that God would not turn away the face of His anointed. Every reply in this psalm gives more than the prayer asked for.
- Granted — the horn is power, the lamp is testimony, the crown is rule. God gives all three to His anointed.
- Personal — the crown flourishes "upon himself," not on his children. That points past David to the true Son of David.
- Final — one moment clothes His enemies with shame and sets the crown budding. Nothing checks it after that.
- Located — it happens "there," in Zion. Until then, love for Christ makes us long to see Him crowned.
(A Song of degrees. Of David.) Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Like the precious oil upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, upon Aaron's beard, that ran down to the hem of his garments;
This psalm uses a picture to explain why unity among God's people is so good: the anointing oil poured on Aaron, Israel's first high priest, on the day he was set apart. Everything turns on which way the oil flows: down from the head to the very hem.
(The ESV says "running down on the collar of his robes." Older translations quoted below say "that went down to the skirts of his garments.")
This was not ordinary perfume. God fixed its recipe, limited its use, and banned all copies. One writer explains why.
Exodus 30 describes this precious ointment, the holy anointing oil... And we learn that it was to be for God's sanctuary alone. No one was to copy it, and no Israelite was to keep it at home. God reserved it for Himself and His own pleasure. He surrounded Himself with its fragrance in His own dwelling. The reason was this: as a picture, it declared how precious Christ was to God, while He lived His life of holy devotion to Him on earth.
One rule in that same passage decided who could be anointed with it. A reference work points out where the line falls:
After speaking of Aaron and his sons, this remarkable instruction follows: "It shall not be poured on human flesh" — that is, not on man as man, but only on Aaron and his sons as priests. It is typical of the Holy Spirit, with whom only the Lord Jesus and believers are anointed.
The oil did not travel upward from the hem. It began at the head. One commentator presses a further detail: it was a priestly head, not a royal one:
This ointment that began at his head spread itself to the very edges of his robes, to the very fringe. Now unity is like that. It all begins from the Head. It all begins, mark you, from the priestly Head — not the royal head. This was not the ointment poured on David... By grace God makes us a spiritual priesthood and brings us into touch with the great exalted Priest in heaven. The Spirit and the grace of our Priestly Head flow down on us, spread among us, and so produce unity. All begins with Christ at the right hand of God, though it comes down to the furthest edges of His garments here on earth.
If the oil comes down from Christ, then the lowest edge of the robe has a name. One writer names it, and draws a hard consequence:
We can bear no fruit and give no testimony except by the anointing oil — that is, the Holy Spirit, which "ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments." The hem of our High Priest's garment is ourselves. And we can make no claim to the name Christian if we do not testify to Christ and bear fruit for God in the power of the Holy Spirit.
Another writer keeps the same picture but turns it toward how Christ is adorned by those He anoints:
The saints should surely be to Christ as the flowing robes of His adorning, each having received the Holy Spirit — an anointing from the Holy One — first poured out upon His person, and then received by Him a second time, coming down from Him, the Head in glory, upon the members of His body down to the very least.
The comparison is not decoration. It sets a value on unity. The measure is how that oil smelled to God at Aaron's consecration.
This symbolic language surely points to the anointing oil poured on Aaron's head on the day he was consecrated (Exodus 29:7). It flowed down to the lowest edges of his priestly robe and filled the scene with its fragrance... But notice the point here: the smell and fragrance of this ointment at Aaron's consecration were precious, and just so precious and fragrant before God are His people when they dwell together in unity.
Commentators also read the psalm forward, to Israel's future. The old split between Israel and Judah will one day end:
Since the days of Solomon, Israel and Judah have been separated. David brought them together outwardly. Under David's Son they shall be one in heart, and united for ever... Smoothness and refreshment run through it all. From the highest to the lowest, through the whole nation, from the centre or head to the furthest part, everyone feels the blessing. And the centre is Zion.
Since God values unity this highly, it calls for effort from each of us:
It is clear, then, that no one can exaggerate the blessing of unity among brothers and sisters. And as we consider the way God looks upon it, we shall all be ready to admit one thing: each of us should try, with whole-hearted and constant diligence, to avoid everything that would spoil unity where it exists, and to restore it where folly or self-will has broken it.
- Source — The oil belonged to God. No one could copy it or keep it at home, because it stood for how precious Christ's life was to His Father.
- Poured — It fell on a priestly head, not a royal one. Unity begins with Christ at God's right hand, not with our own effort at the bottom.
- Down — It ran to the beard, then to the very fringe. The Spirit comes down from the Head to the furthest edge of the robe.
- Reach — The fringe has a name: us. Those the oil touches are the ones who bear testimony and fruit by the Spirit.
- Fragrance — The oil filled the scene at Aaron's consecration. That same fragrance rises to God when His people dwell together in unity, so spoiling it is never a small thing.
As the dew of Hermon that descendeth on the mountains of Zion; for there hath Jehovah commanded the blessing, life for evermore.
Psalm 133 ends by turning from the anointing oil on Aaron's head to a picture from nature: dew falling from the north onto Zion. Then it names why unity is so good. God has commanded blessing in that place. Two questions follow. Why should a mountain far to the north water the hills of Zion? And what does "life forevermore" mean over a nation on earth?
The link between the two mountains has puzzled readers. Commentators treat it as a picture, not a map problem:
The expression "the dew of Hermon" has, it seems, long been "a geographical puzzle" to some. But to anyone who has the mind of Christ it is no puzzle, but a most striking and beautiful figure. Hermon is the very highest peak in all the land of Palestine. While the whole country around it lies parched, the refreshing dew comes down from its snowy cap on the mountains of Zion. This is one of the figures the Holy Spirit uses to show the beauty and pleasantness of brothers dwelling together in unity.
Some translations add words that turn one dew into two. Read as a single fall, the line runs from the greater height to the lesser:
The four words that follow are in italics and should be dropped. It should read, "The dew of Hermon that descended upon the mountains of Zion." … And the dew of Hermon comes down on the far smaller mountains of Zion. Christ is Himself the apex of all God's glory, and on the humble hills, representing His people, the dew descends.
The image is not only about height but about what dew does when it lands.
Scripture uses dew again and again as a picture of blessing and refreshment coming down from heaven. So Moses says, "my speech distill as the dew"; and in Hosea we read, "I will be like the dew to Israel." (Hosea 14.) Dwelling together in unity has a sweet fragrance, produced by the mighty and unhindered action of the Holy Spirit come down from our exalted and glorified Head. Beyond that, God's favour comes down on His people like the dew. Resting on them, it brings reviving and refreshment to them all.
Commentators differ on what Hermon itself pictures. One draws meaning from its name and ties it to the cause of division:
Hermon is a majestic snow-covered mountain, a reminder of the Great White Throne, its name meaning "banned," so speaking of the ban of God upon evil. The Spirit of God is totally opposed to evil of any kind, which is the only actual cause of disunity. The dew is another symbol of the Spirit of God, bringing gentle refreshment. Since "life forevermore" is true, the precious unity brought about by the Spirit of God in Israel will be permanent too.
The blessing has a place attached to it. Commentators explain why that place is Zion:
Two things here need notice. First, there is a place of blessing, and in this case it is Zion. The reason lies in the psalm just before, which says, "the LORD has chosen Zion; He has desired it for His dwelling place: 'This is My resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it.'" We learn once again that God's blessing is found where He dwells, in His own house… In a future day Zion will be the Lord's dwelling place, and for that reason it will be the place of blessing. But now it is the Church which is the house of God. (1 Timothy 3:15.) In both cases alike it is the presence of God in His dwelling that secures the blessing.
The closing phrase is rare in the Old Testament. Commentators tie it to the coming kingdom on earth, not to heaven:
Life in Christ (He is eternal life — 1 John 1, John 1) may be on earth, as in Matthew 25, or in heaven… The Old Testament speaks of it only twice, in Psalm 133 and Daniel 12. Both refer to the millennium, that is, on earth.
Both the oil and the dew come down from above. So people receive unity before they live it out.
If brothers are to dwell together in unity, they must keep receiving the ointment from the Head, the refreshing showers from the true Hermon. They must live in the very presence of Christ. There all their points and angles are smoothed off, all their selfishness judged and subdued, all their own peculiar notions set aside… It will not then be loving those who think with us and feel with us about some pet theory or other. It will be loving and embracing "all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity."
- Source. Hermon is the highest peak. Its dew falls while everything around lies parched. Blessing starts higher than the people who get it.
- Descent. The dew falls from the summit onto the lower hills of Zion. Christ is the height of God's glory, and His people are the humble ground it waters.
- Refreshment. Throughout Scripture, dew pictures God's favour coming down from heaven to revive those it rests on.
- Place. God commands the blessing where He dwells — Zion then, the Church as God's house now. His presence there secures it.
- Permanence. What He commands there is life forevermore. The Old Testament names it only twice. The unity it crowns lasts as long as the life does.
(A Song of degrees.) Behold, bless Jehovah, all ye servants of Jehovah, who by night stand in the house of Jehovah.
Psalm 134 is the last of the Songs of Ascents, and it ends the climb not with a request but with a call to bless the Lord. The line raises three questions: who these servants are, why they stand in God's house, and what the night means.
These psalms climb step by step, and this one is where they stop:
In Psalm 134 we reach the top of the staircase as far as these Songs of Degrees go. It is worship, and beyond that the believer can hardly get. All that we may receive from God, and enter into by faith in the energy of the Spirit, must flow back to God in this way. The servants of the Lord bless the Lord even though they stand in the house by night. Night is the time of darkness and of sleep. All nature is quiet. The song-birds have gone to roost. The only voice is that of the servant who lifts up his hands in the sanctuary and blesses the Lord.
The call goes out to "all you servants of the LORD," and the second half of the line shows who they are:
Psalm 134 is the Psalm of the uplifted hands, or, as we can say, the Psalm of the uplifted heart. "Come, bless the LORD, all you servants of the LORD" — these are His priestly servants, because it says "who stand by night in the house of the LORD," and so you have worship. Now, we have no earthly sanctuary, but still we are made a spiritual priesthood.
Standing in God's house is not idleness. One writer sets this psalm against the long journey behind it:
The closing psalm of these pilgrim songs presents the crowning experience of the godly in Israel. The previous psalm views the godly as brothers dwelling together in unity. Here they are the servants of the Lord, busy with the highest service — the worship of the Lord. Their worship never stops, even by night (1 Chr. 9:33). They offer it in a holy place — the sanctuary of the House of the Lord. Many a time they had raised their hands in prayer on their desert journey. Now they are called to lift up their hands in praise in the house of the Lord.
Commentators differ on the night. The psalm opens with a call to stop and consider, and one writer reads the night as real service in an age still to come:
"Behold," we are told, that is, consider what is fitting at this time. Of course it assumes the millennium has been brought in. This psalm singles out the servants "who stand by night in the house of the LORD" (v. 1). We do not know of priests serving by night in the temple. So this may teach us that in the millennium God will be served just as well in the night as in the day.
Others read the night as now, while Christ is away from this world:
"By night" would suggest the absence of Christ from this world. Yet there is a company who know God and draw near to Him. He has anointed them to worship Him in the sanctuary. This is the end of all that God is seeking today. It is ours, beloved, to take up this privilege of priestly service, to bless our God, and then we can be sure, as we do so, that He will bless us from His holy dwelling.
God has blessed them first, and the call to praise follows from that:
With this before them, He must be praised, and that by all His servants. And no time can be unsuitable for blessing Him who blesses them like this. By day and by night His praises should be declared… They have so often lifted their hands in prayer towards God's house. Now they are to lift them up in praise. The Lord answered those hands when they were raised in prayer. He will not be less mindful when they are raised in praise.
- Ascent. The Songs of Ascents end in worship. It is the highest point a believer reaches. All that we receive from God flows back to Him there.
- Servants. The call is to His priestly servants, marked out by where they stand. We have no earthly sanctuary now, yet we are made a spiritual priesthood.
- Service. Worship in God's house is the highest service there is. Hands once raised in prayer on the road are now raised in praise at the end of it.
- Night. Commentators differ. Some read the night of an age still to come. Others read it of Christ's absence now. Either way, a company draws near to God in the dark.
- Answer. No hour is unsuitable for blessing the God who blesses. He answered those hands when they were lifted in prayer. He will not be less mindful when they are lifted in praise.
Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless Jehovah.
Psalm 134 closes the Songs of Ascents with a call to the servants who keep watch in God's house at night. It tells them to lift their hands and bless Him in the dark — but is "the holy place" a building, or a state of heart?
Commentators see this psalm as the top of the whole series. What stands at the top is worship, not anything we receive.
In Psalm 134 we reach the top of the staircase as regards these Songs of Degrees. It is worship, and beyond that the saint can hardly get. All that we may receive from God, and enter into by faith in the energy of the Spirit, must flow back to God in this way. The servants of the Lord bless the Lord even though they stand in the house by night. All nature is quiet. The song-birds have gone to roost. The only voice is that of the servant who lifts up his hands in the sanctuary and blesses the Lord.
The same gesture had a different meaning earlier in the journey. Hands stretched out on the road were the hands of people in need; here the posture stays and the content changes.
Their worship never stops, even at night (1 Chr. 9:33), and they offer it in a holy place — the sanctuary of the House of the Lord. Many a time they had raised their hands in prayer on their desert journey; now they are called to lift up their hands in praise in the house of the Lord.
One writer adds that God listens just as closely when asking turns into thanks. The hands "so often lifted up in prayer towards God's house, are to be lifted up in praise. When raised in prayer the Lord had answered, He will not be less mindful when they are lifted up in praise."
The Hebrew word here carries two possible senses, and commentators differ over which the psalm intends. Kelly's rendering keeps both open:
Lift up your hands [in] the sanctuary (or, in holiness), and bless Jehovah.
Some prefer the second reading, and it changes what the verse asks for. The hands themselves must be clean, not just raised in the right building.
But though I have said "Sanctuary," I believe the word means instead "your hands of holiness." I understand that Paul, or the Spirit of God, refers to this when he says, "I want men to pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without anger or doubting." These men were called to lift up their hands as they stood in the house of the Lord "by night."
Dennett notes the same two senses and draws one lesson either way: "it is only in the 'sanctuary' that worship can be presented."
Writers apply the night watch to the time we live in now.
Man has his little lights, and he is well pleased with the little toys he has made himself. But the night goes on, and Israel, who has rejected her Lord, stays silent. She has not a word of praise... You and I are brought into this priestly place, and while it is the night of Christ's rejection, I think we can see the first dawning of the day. We, who are privileged to stand in the sanctuary by night, may lift up our hands and bless the Lord.
Darby contrasts the psalm's setting with the Christian's. The place is different, and so is the darkness:
This will not be fully ours till we are in our Father's house. But then, though praise will surely go up unceasingly, we shall not have need to call on others to bless. We are kings and priests, and even now we bless Him as such in spirit... We stand in reality in the holiest of all — the place where no Jewish priest could enter to bless, even as a picture. There we bless Him, in whose presence and light we stand. Night we cannot say then, for "there shall be no night there"; now we praise in spirit here, saying, "the night is far spent."
Verse 3 answers verses 1–2, and the movement runs both ways. As Hamilton Smith puts it on the closing verse: "When praise goes up blessing flows out."
- Lift as summit — Psalm 134 is the last step of the Songs of Ascents, and that step is worship. Everything we receive from God flows back to Him this way.
- Lift as praise — the hands raised in the desert were asking; the same hands raised in the house are blessing.
- Lift in holiness — the word may mean "the sanctuary" or "in holiness." On the second reading, the call is for clean hands, like the later call to pray lifting up holy hands.
- Lift in the night — the servants stand while it is dark, and the darkness of Christ's rejection is no reason for silence.
- Lift and receive — the psalm ends by turning the blessing round: praise rises, and blessing flows back out of Zion.
Jehovah, the maker of heavens and earth, bless thee out of Zion.
Psalm 134 closes the fifteen "Songs of Ascents". Two questions shape its last line. Who receives this blessing? And why does it come out of Zion, and not simply down from heaven?
The first two verses call God's servants to bless Him. This verse reverses the direction.
When the people at last bless the Lord in the sanctuary, the Lord will bless His people out of Zion. When praise goes up blessing flows out.
We might expect the psalm to end where praise ends. It does not.
At this point we might think, well, that is the top note. You cannot get any further than that. But the story does not end with the uplifting of our hands to God. ... The matter stands like this: we give the Lord our praise, and the Lord says I will roll it back in blessing. The Lord blesses and always has the last word.
Zion is where God dwells, and where His throne is. That changes what the blessing means.
The worshippers often lifted their hands in prayer towards God's house. Now they are to lift them in praise. When they raised them in prayer the Lord answered. He will not be less mindful when they lift them in praise. ... The Creator now dwells in Zion, and from there, in connection with the throne, can bless His people.
One writer looks ahead to the age when God deals with the world from Zion.
This blessing proceeds from Zion, the centre of God's dealings with the world in the millennial age. But notice: the holy city of Zion is the home of God's sanctuary then.
Verses 1–2 call on many servants. The last line blesses one person. Who speaks it?
Jehovah, who made heaven and earth, blessed now (not simply from heaven, but) out of Zion. It is the place of blessing Jehovah, and Jehovah blessing. I would rather count the last verse as the voice of Christ, the Son of David, speaking somewhat in the character of Melchizedek. He said, "Blessed be the most high God, and blessed be Abram of the most high God"... The last verse answers the call of the earlier ones. The Spirit of Christ in the remnant calls on Jehovah's servants to bless Him, and they in turn bless the godly one from Him.
Commentators differ. One writer sets both readings side by side and leaves the choice open. He starts with the title "who made heaven and earth".
The expression "Jehovah that made heaven and earth" shows us God as He made Himself known to His chosen people... even the saints in Jerusalem at Pentecost said, "Sovereign Lord, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and everything in them" (Acts 4:24)... Others, however, regard it as the Spirit's cry to Jehovah through the remnant, asking blessing on the Messiah Himself. We read, for example, in Psalm 72: "May prayer be made for him continually." The spiritual reader will judge which of these interpretations is most in keeping with the divine mind.
The psalm puts its worshippers in God's house at night. What carries over to us?
The psalm calls on His priestly servants. We know this because it says "who stand by night in the house of the Lord," and so you have worship. Now, we have no earthly sanctuary, but we are still made a spiritual priesthood.
One writer looks at what is already ours, and at what is still ahead.
This will not be fully ours until we are in our Father's house. But then, though praise will surely keep going up without end, we will not need to call on others to bless. We are kings and priests... We stand in reality in the holiest of all, where no Jewish priest could enter to bless even in figure. There we bless Him, in whose presence and light we stand. We cannot speak of night then, for "night will be no more"; now we praise in spirit here, saying, "the night is far gone."
- Praise goes up. God's servants bless Him in the sanctuary, hands lifted at night.
- Blessing comes back. Worship looks like the top note. The Lord answers it by rolling praise back as blessing, and He has the last word.
- Out of Zion. The blessing does not simply fall from heaven. It comes from the place where God dwells, beside His throne.
- On whom? Some hear Christ, the Son of David, blessing His people as Melchizedek once blessed. Others hear the Spirit asking blessing on the Messiah. Commentators differ.
- Ours now. We have no earthly sanctuary, yet we are made a spiritual priesthood. We praise while "the night is far gone", and in the day coming, night will be no more.