(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.