Psalms 138–145

The whole heart praises — and this is a very important element. It does not praise only for some blessing. It is not even thankfulness for what we want, while the main current of the heart is somewhere other than with God. It is such a learning of God that the whole heart praises Him. And this is always in circumstances which make the whole heart want Him, as it will be with Israel in the last days. We learn this little by little, as self is emptied out. Or we learn it in times of deep trial, when help fails and self breaks up within.

The psalmist praises the Lord, not only with words on his lips, but with his whole heart — an undistracted heart taken up with its object. He also acknowledges the Lord in public. He praises before the judges of the earth, here called gods, since they represent God in their positions of authority (Ps. 82:1, 6-7).

The psalmist voices the praise of all the redeemed of Israel in the coming glory of the millennium. Their whole heart will be in this worship. It will be nothing like the half-heartedness that has marked the nation for centuries. Now they will sing, even "before the gods," that is, the elders of Israel who were responsible to represent God (John 10:35).

In Psalm 138, despite this corrupt religion — for he is still taking up Babylon in spirit — he praises Jehovah before the gods.

Psalm 138 gives the ground of faith — God's word; and now the godly one turns to acknowledge it in worship. And when that word reaches the kings of the earth, they will turn and praise Jehovah and sing in His ways. Nor is His truth all. Though He is so high, He takes notice of the lowly. He revives, protects and perfects all that concerns the believing righteous. "His mercy endures for ever."

This series begins with thanksgiving and praise to God (138:1). It ends with praising and blessing His name for ever and ever (145:1-2)… Past answers to prayer (v. 3) give confidence about future salvation. God, faithful to His word, David called and He answered. If David could prove that, other saints may likewise. God's character is unchanging.

The psalmist desires more than once to praise Jehovah with his "whole heart" (Ps. 9:1; 111:1; 138:1). The Christian has higher privileges and greater responsibilities. He is not to fall behind the Jew. Two of Paul's letters urge the same thing: "singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart" (Eph. 5:19); "singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God" (Col. 3:16).

Sustained in suffering. No one finds such quick attention at the throne of grace as suffering saints. "On the day I called," says David, "you answered me; my strength of soul you increased" (Ps. 138:3). Friends had gathered to ask God for Peter. Their prayer knocked at heaven's gate, and almost as soon Peter knocked at theirs.

This word led the saint and guided his thoughts. He cried, and God answered him. Before the public answer came out in power, God strengthened him with strength in his soul. How true this is of Christ even, and of the Christian! And this gives us the assurance that all will have to acknowledge the power we trusted when things were dark.

In the very day in which His people cried to Him, He answered, and infused new courage into their drooping souls.

The Lord also hears the cries of His servants. He gives them boldness with strength in their souls. How much better is this than physical strength!

(vv. 3-5) In his trouble the godly man had cried to the Lord, and the Lord had answered him. In this way the trouble strengthens the confidence of his soul.

Past answers to prayer (3) give confidence about future salvation. So this Psalm is full of trust in God, who has magnified His word above all His name (2). God, faithful to His word, David called and He answered (3). If David could prove that, other saints may likewise. God's character is unchanging.

The Lord's answer to his prayer encourages him to look on to the time when all the kings of the earth will praise Jehovah. At last they will listen to His words, walk in His ways, and see His glory.

David's thoughts, here as elsewhere, run on to the days of the coming kingdom. The prospect of all the kings of the earth giving thanks to God (138:4-5) was never fulfilled in his day.

It is useless to look to self to overcome self. But in your weakness you may call on the Lord Jesus. Then you will be able to say like the psalmist, "On the day I called, you answered me; my strength of soul you increased" (Ps. 138:3).

And God will do this also today for those who have to do with greater glory... But this strength is ours in connection with that of which we have spoken, and not so that we may take another way, however good it may seem.

Psalm 138 gives the ground of faith — God's word; and now the godly turns to own it in worship; and when that word reaches the kings of the earth, they shall turn and praise Jehovah and sing in His ways.

There is a remarkable expression in Psalm 138:2, "You have magnified Your word above all Your Name." Is there some explanation of this in verses 4 and 5? Will not the glory of the LORD be enhanced in the eyes of the great ones of the earth as His word reaches their hearts and minds? ... Is this not the testimony of how He is reaching out through His Word to those ready to receive it?

Now all the kings of the earth, when they hear the sayings of Jehovah, shall also confess Him; and, weary at last of their own ways, in which they have so long been walking, they shall sing of the ways of Jehovah, that great is His glory. Thus the misrule of the earth shall cease.

Search human history with the keenest eye and the highest hopes. What single page shows earth's ruling powers willingly and unanimously following the right ways of the Lord? Has the Christian world ever seen it? It will be seen. But not until the Son of Man comes again in power. Only then will He place the kingdoms of this world under the open sovereignty of Jehovah and His Christ. Grace alone, without real power to govern alongside it, has never produced these effects, and it never will. It is when the judgments of Jehovah are in the earth that the inhabitants of the world learn righteousness (Isa. 26:9). Grace will act too, and act with rich and marvellous result; but judgment must prepare the way.

Earth's long-rejected Sovereign will return to Zion, and in the midst of Israel and of many nations, all at last at rest and in peace, He will lead the song of praise to His God. Earth's rulers, then willingly subject to Him, will form the choir. Meantime the Lord Jesus has His Assembly... It is only a "little flock" compared with the great congregation of the Kingdom age. But the Assembly is all He has while He is rejected, and it is His present joy. How far do our hearts enter into this?

David's thoughts, here as elsewhere, run on to millennial times. All the kings of the earth giving thanks to God was never seen in his own day. Past answers to prayer give confidence as to future salvation... God, faithful to His word, David called and He answered. If David could prove that, other saints may likewise. God's character is unchanging.

Psalm 138 gives the ground of faith — God's word. Now the godly person turns to acknowledge that word in worship. And when that word reaches the kings of the earth, they shall turn and praise Jehovah and sing in His ways.

The eyes of the psalmist look around also, to see in that day all the kings of the earth praising the Lord (v. 4). Today none of these kings are free to publicly praise the Lord Jesus: what a change in that quickly coming day! But it will be the words of His mouth that influence them. In fact, they go further, and sing of the ways of the Lord in appreciation of the greatness of His glory (v. 5).

Now all the kings of the earth, when they hear the sayings of Jehovah, shall also confess Him. Weary at last of their own ways, in which they have walked so long, they shall sing of the ways of Jehovah, for great is His glory. So the misrule of the earth shall cease.

Perhaps there is no promise about this earth more wonderful than verse 5 of this Psalm. What kind of glory must that be, to produce such effects? In what age of this world's misery have such things happened? Search human history as hopefully as you like: what single page shows earth's ruling powers agreeing, willingly and as one, with the right ways of the Lord? Was it ever seen in the Christian world? It will be seen. But not until the Son of Man comes again in power and places the kingdoms of this world under the visible rule of Jehovah and His Christ. Grace by itself, without effective governing power, has not produced these effects, and it never will.

Then all the kings of the earth shall praise Jehovah, when they hear the words of His mouth. That is, after the glory is in Jerusalem, in faithfulness to Christ. Yes, they shall sing — for great is the glory of Jehovah. And this is because of His regard for the lowly, for the despised Jew, so displayed. The proud He holds at a distance.

Now the remnant can praise with its whole heart, and especially for loving-kindness and for truth made good in the fulfilment of promise — "Because of your loving-kindness and because of your truth." And the blessing goes out world-wide, so that the kings of the earth can praise and sing of the ways of Jehovah. This may indeed go beyond what that name seemed to involve for Israel. It was under that name that they stood in covenant relationship with Him, and, as they understood it, that covenant did not include world-wide blessing.

Earth's long-rejected Sovereign will return to Zion. There, among Israel and many nations, all at last at rest and in peace, He will lead the song of praise to His God. Earth's rulers, then willingly subject to Him, will form the choir.

Though the Lord is high and His glory great, He still has regard for the lowly. The proud He knows from far off. God regards them, but at a distance. He does not admit them into His favour or confidence.

Of course He knows the proud. But to mark that off from His approving knowledge, Scripture adds, "the haughty he knows from afar." ... In the same way it says, "The LORD knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish" (Ps. 1:6).

There is no such thing, in dealing with God, as covering up sin. "Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper" (Prov. 28:13), and God only deals with men on the basis of what they are. If a man comes to God claiming to be righteous, God must refuse him: "the haughty he knows from afar" (Ps. 138:6). The Pharisee and the tax collector teach us this. He will only meet in grace those whom His holiness has already convicted of sin.

The tax collector appears to have recognised that man's place as a sinner is "far off" from God. Taking that place, he has an appreciation, at least in some measure, that God's character is that of showing mercy. ... His admission of distance from God, and his appreciation too of the only source of mercy, were pleasing in the sight of God. The Lord Jesus confirmed the whole incident in searching and precious words: "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."

Are believers lowly and of little account in this world? Then let them remember that the Lord delights to associate with such, for we read, "Though the LORD is high, he regards the lowly, but the haughty he knows from afar" (Ps. 138:6). To feed our natural pride and boast about birth and worldly position separates us from the excellent of the earth. It puts us "far off" from God. The word to each one is, "associate with the lowly" (Rom. 12:16).

It is the humble to whom God looks; the proud He knows only from afar. It is our emptiness, when we feel it in the soul, that makes us fit vessels for the Spirit of God to dwell in. It makes us fit channels through which He can pour out His fullness to refresh others.

The greatness of His glory is high indeed. Yet despite such greatness, He has true regard for the lowly, and He fully discerns the pride of evil men (v. 6). How good it is that He distinguishes between these classes of men! The lowly today walk in the middle of trouble ... but God will revive them wonderfully (v. 7). Those who cause trouble will find the hand of God stretched out against them.

The psalmist's heart is full of praise. Yet in his circumstances he walks "in the midst of trouble." Still, if the trouble tends to cast him down, the Lord will revive him. The hand of the Lord that deals with the believer's enemies supports the believer himself.

This close fellowship of the soul with God results in joy and revival. If God promises to revive, faith can say confidently with the Psalmist: "You, who have shown us many and severe troubles, will revive us again" (Ps. 71:20). "Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me" (Ps. 138:7). The means God uses to revive us is usually His Word: "I will never forget your precepts, for by them you have given me life" (Ps. 119:93). This very personal encouragement in fellowship with God will deepen the desire in our hearts that the whole people of God may be revived. So we pray, always aware of our own weakness and failure, "O LORD, revive your work" (Hab. 3:2).

It is better to be held up in answer to our cry of weakness, before we fail. That is better even than finding a strong arm reached out to lift us up again after we have turned aside from Him. The cry goes out from the sense of need. The strong right arm is around us in that strength which is made perfect in our weakness. So we can say, "You stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me," and "Hold me up, that I may be safe."

The Lord, high as He was, had regard for the lowly. He is so high above us that a man's high standing makes no difference to Him. If we look down from heaven, everything on earth is flat. But there are high and low here, and God thinks of the lowly. Trouble also comes on the faithful, but His goodness and His promise give the outcome according to His word. Nor is that quite all. God will perfect what concerns us. He will make good in us and to us all the blessing that was in His heart and that He had revealed in His word, in relationship and communion with Himself. Over all, through all difficulties, and beyond all, His mercy endures forever.

The lowly today walk in the midst of trouble, and this will increase in the tribulation. But God will revive them wonderfully (v. 7). Those who cause the trouble will find the hand of God stretched out against them. Their wrath will come to nothing when this happens, and that same hand of power will save the godly from all adversity.

Psalm 138 gives the ground of faith — God's word. Now the godly person turns to acknowledge that word in worship. When that word reaches the kings of the earth, they will turn and praise Jehovah and sing in His ways. But His truth is not all there is. High as He is, He cares for the lowly. He revives, protects, and perfects everything that concerns the believing righteous. "His mercy endures forever."

Psalm 138 — The temple and the kingdom now come faintly into view in the middle of the trouble. In David's day the temple was not yet built. But for faith the temple was wherever the ark stood, or the altar on the threshing floor of Araunah. So the scene suits the restored remnant, whether returning from exile in Babylon or in a later day. Trouble is there, and the anger of enemies; but Jehovah will perfect what concerns him. Jehovah is high; but He looks upon the lowly, and will not forsake the works of His own hands.

But he not only saves: He brings the entire circumstances of the redeemed into a perfect state, so that they will adore Him for His enduring mercy, they being the work of His own wise and capable hands (v. 8).

In the end the Lord will perfect that which concerns the godly. The trouble will pass, the enemies will be judged, and the godly will be blessed, for the mercy of the Lord endures for ever, and the Lord cannot forsake His own.

The previous psalm had struck the keynote: "your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands." Holding that thought, praise can rise even in the searching light of God's presence: "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

And so we see, as in Psalm 139, that the Trinity is omniscient (verses 1 to 6), omnipresent (verses 7 to 12), and omnipotent (verses 13 to the end).

Every human being has been searched by Omniscience, whether he is conscious of it or not. This will be made clear "on that day when God judges the secrets of men." … He has "hemmed us in, behind and before." He can look backward, and He can look forward also. All our history is before Him, as if it had been written after we had run our course. "O Lord, you have searched me," is the language of the Psalmist — not "you are doing it now, or will do it later," but "you have done it already."

And is this not dealing with us according to the divine order in Psalm 139? "O Lord, you have searched me and known me: you winnow my path." And what is the soul's reply to all the sifting it has consciously passed through? "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts." … Let this precious thought comfort our hearts. The Lord is sifting away much that we have cherished more than Himself. But He does it only to bring out what He knows lies at the bottom of our hearts. He by His Spirit has put it there: faith in Him, and love for Him.

The psalmist stated the fact: Jehovah has "searched me and known me." It was to him an event of the past. We know that God does search and know people everywhere without their asking Him, and He does so without their knowledge. The thoughtless crowds that fill our streets are all known to God, individually, just as fully as every believer is known by Him. But the believer knows that God knows him, and this makes all the difference. The child of God welcomes such knowledge; he knows it is good for him.

Clearly not for His own information. Why then were we searched? We were searched so that we might know ourselves. This is what we have to learn at the beginning of God's dealings with us. We naturally do not want to be searched, for nothing morally good is found in us. … What will God learn by His searchings? Nothing from us. But we may learn a great deal, and we shall learn very much if we respond to His searchings and are glad to be searched. At first we do not like it, but when we see a little of the good of it we are glad to be searched.

But it is not without the most thorough searching out of all that we are. And this, where there is confidence, is a great grace. Only He can do it, and He does it according to His own perfection. He does it to purify us from everything inconsistent with Himself — with His own mind, and so with our blessedness, which lies in communion with Himself. … This is the conscience brought into the sense that God knows everything in us perfectly. All is under His eye, and He actually sees everything. It is not only that He sees, but He searches.

In this Psalm David lifts up his eyes and says, "O Lord, you have searched me and known me … and are acquainted with all my ways." He stands before the Lord, aware of Him. He rejoices in His full knowledge of himself and his ways, and makes it the theme of his song to Jehovah. To David, this intimate inspection was a matter for praise to God, the omniscient and omnipotent One, who had searched him and known him.

The psalmist felt himself searched out fully in the presence of God — a searching he had been unable to carry out on himself. God knew every movement, whether sitting or rising. He not only knows, but understands the thoughts passing through every mind. He understands them better than we do (v. 2).

God knows every detail of our lives; every movement of the body, and the thought of the mind and heart the moment it begins. God knows the word we have formed inside before it leaves the tongue. He knows it completely: the motive and spirit behind it, the purpose of sending it out. Its sound may deceive others; we may deceive ourselves about the motive for it, but He knows everything about it perfectly.

All is known to the Lord. The unseen world as well as the future; all eternity is known to Him. All is naked and open before Him. He knows the hearts of men, yes, even our thoughts from far off, before they ever pass through our finite minds.

Every human being has been searched by Omniscience, whether he is conscious of it or not... "O Lord, You have searched me," says the psalmist. He does not say, "You are doing it now, or will do it later," but "You have done it already." He has "hemmed us in behind and before." He can look backward, and He can look forward also. All our history is before Him, as if it had been written after we had run our course.

Loving hands bring a paralysed man to Him, and when He saw their faith He said to the helpless one, "Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven." And now for the first time in the Gospel we read that the scribes said, "This man is blaspheming." They did not speak it out, but He saw their thoughts, for He is the One of whom David says: "You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar" (Ps. 139:2).

The psalmist stated the fact: the Lord has "searched me and known me." To him it was an event of the past. We know that God does search and know people everywhere without their asking Him, and does so without their being aware of it. The crowds that fill our streets without a thought of Him are all known to God individually, just as fully as every believer is known by Him. But the believer knows that God knows him, and this makes all the difference. The child of God welcomes such knowledge; he knows it is good for him.

Psalm 139 shows the full exercise of heart that belongs to God's ways... not a thought escapes God. Morally speaking, no one can stay in His presence. But no one can get out of His presence either. There is nowhere He does not see, though conscience might be glad to flee. But this brings in another side. He knows all, because He has also formed all. This links us with His taking perfect notice of us in goodness. He cares for us. He watches over every part that is formed, just as He knows our every thought. And if He does, He has thoughts of His own too, and these are precious to us.

God knows every detail of our lives: every movement of the body, and the thought of the mind and heart the moment it begins. Every moment of the day of activity, the time of our rest — yes, He knows through and through all the ways that mark us out down here. God knows the word we have formed before it leaves the tongue. He knows it fully: the motive and spirit behind it, and the purpose we sent it out for. Its sound may deceive others; we may deceive ourselves about the motive for it. But He knows everything about it perfectly.

The first section speaks of the Lord's knowledge of all things. The first two verses speak of knowledge only, though the Light that is never withdrawn searches everything out. But in the next verses He winnows the path. This hints at a judgment that sifts and separates, and its result would be thorough acquaintance, or familiarity, with all the ways.

What is the soul's reply to all the sifting it has knowingly passed through? "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!" … Let this precious thought comfort our hearts. The Lord is sifting away much that we have cherished more than Himself. But He does it only to bring out what He knows lies at the bottom of our hearts: faith in Him, and love to Him. He Himself put it there by His Spirit.

God, who knows all things, has searched every human being, whether that person is aware of it or not. The day when God judges the secrets of men will make this plain. His word searches "the thoughts and intentions of the heart" now, and that is how He brings His knowledge home to our conscience before that day. He has hemmed us in behind and before. He can look backward, and He can look forward too. All our history is before Him, as if it had been written after we had run our course. "O Lord, You have searched me" is the language of the psalmist — not "You are doing it now, or will do it later," but "You have done it already."

In the psalmist's experience, knowing that God knows everything at first plunges his soul into the deepest distress. He thinks of his own broken responsibilities towards God. At last he realises that God's "works" and God's "thoughts" are towards him in grace. Then God's knowledge of everything becomes the source of his deepest comfort.

Sometimes God will not let us go forward; at other times He will not let us go back, for He hems us in behind and before. In the way He governs us, He knows how to keep us from ways that would dishonour Him and bring shame and sorrow to our poor hearts.

God knows all about me at all times, whether I am sleeping or waking, whether I am aware of His eyes on me or not. But when I grasp that truth as the psalmist had, I will want to walk in the awareness of it every day, as he did. … Then I will have the happy assurance, in all I do and say, that God Himself is before me and around me every step of the way I take.

The first section speaks of Jehovah's omniscience. The first two verses give knowledge only, though the Light, which is never withdrawn, searches everything out. … The third subsection speaks not simply of knowledge, but of action: "You have hemmed me in behind and before, and laid Your hand on me." He realizes, as well he may, this knowledge as too wonderful for him — an unattainable height.

"You have hedged me behind and before" (v. 5) — that is, God puts limits that we cannot ignore, whether we want to go forward or reverse our direction and return to a previous condition. So He lays His hand on us to preserve, to guide or to restrain, as He sees fit. The very knowledge that this is so is too wonderful for the psalmist to understand: it is high above his ability to search it (v. 6).

Sometimes God will not let us go forward; at other times He will not let us go back, for He hems us in behind and before. In the way He governs our lives, He knows how to keep us from paths that would dishonour Him. Such paths bring shame and sorrow to our poor hearts. At times He puts His hand on us, so that we may feel it is He Himself who is dealing with us in wisdom and in love.

He has "hemmed us in behind and before." He can look backward, and He can look forward also. All our history is before Him, as if it had been written after we had run our course. The psalmist says, "O Lord, You have searched me." He does not say, "You are doing it now, or will do it later," but "You have done it already."

Have we not, like Jonah, tried to go west when God has told us to go east? … And have we not had to learn, to our sorrow and shame, how useless such attempts are? Have we not also learned how near God's hand is to deliver those who call on Him out of the prison of distress they brought on themselves?

Looking more closely at the Psalm as a whole, its earlier part (verses 1–12) expresses, in language of rare grandeur, the believer's inward awareness that God knows him. The fullest sense of self-sifting — the most intimate searching of all that the heart holds — goes together with the fullest enjoyment of assured peace and confidence in God. His right hand holds firmly (verse 10) the soul on which His precious thoughts of peace are set. That grasp is sure salvation, and it holds through every experience of the pilgrim way.

We know that God does search and know people everywhere without their asking Him, and He does so without their being aware of it. The thoughtless crowds that fill our streets are all known to God, individually, just as fully as every believer is known by Him. But the believer knows that God knows him, and this makes all the difference. The child of God welcomes such knowledge; he knows it is good for him. So at the end of this psalm David asked God to search him further; he had learned its value for his soul.

Psalm 138 had closed with the recognition that we are the work of God's hands. This psalm opens with the realization that, if this is so, God must know us fully, and we are always in His hands. So the first six verses speak of God's omniscience. First, He searches us and knows us. Then He searches into our paths and takes note of all our ways. Last of all, His hand is upon us, dealing with us according to His perfect knowledge. Such knowledge is too wonderful for us.

After all, these are matters which lie beyond the reach of finite minds. Is it likely that God would reveal to us such secrets of His high and eternal purposes — secrets that must lie on the plane of infinity? If He did, would we be any the wiser? No! It is well for us to call a halt here and say with the Psalmist, "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it."

The first section speaks plainly of Jehovah's omniscience, as felt by one who is in awe of it. In the second section that fear breaks out into a cry. He longs to escape to the ends of the earth, or into Sheol itself, to be free from it — but he knows well that this is impossible… In the fourth section he is now with God against the evil shown in the world, and against what he fears and hates within himself. The presence of God becomes his sanctuary and refuge. He invites the searching Eye which he once dreaded.

No wonder the psalmist should say, "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it." It is not that anyone might say, "God knows everything; and, of course, He knows all about me." A person might have that awareness and yet not know what it is to be searched by the Spirit of God. We must come into the sense of it. Until that happens there will not be the full sense of what the salvation of God is.

Sometimes God will not let us go forward; at other times He will not let us go back, for He besets behind and before. In His ways of government with us, He knows how to keep us from paths that would dishonour Him and bring shame and sorrow to our poor hearts. At times He puts His hand upon us, so that we might feel that it is Himself dealing with us in wisdom and in love. Do we feel with the Psalmist that the knowledge of these things is too wonderful for us? How great God is! And yet to think that He stoops to deal with small mortals, with such insignificant people as we are.

God's holy scrutiny does concern us and our ways. But it is not meant to occupy us with ourselves. On the contrary, self is lost in the sense of the wonderful grasp and range of the mind of God.

In the psalmist's experience, knowing that God knows everything at first plunges his soul into the deepest distress. He thinks of his own broken responsibilities towards God. At last he realizes that God's "works" and God's "thoughts" are toward him in grace. Then God's omniscience becomes the source of his deepest comfort.

Thinking of his own failure to live up to his responsibility, the godly man is overwhelmed in the presence of the omniscience of God. He would gladly flee from the presence of God and escape His all-searching gaze. He finds, however, that God is not only omniscient but also omnipresent. There is no escape from the Spirit of God; no place that God cannot penetrate; no solitude where God is not; no darkness that can hide from God.

This is the puzzle for many people who want to get away from God. The first man and his wife were the first to try it. They hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. It was a useless and fruitless effort. They had to come out of their miserable hiding-place and admit their terrible disobedience.

"If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there!" (Ps. 139:8). Here the psalm ascribes one of the attributes of God — His omnipresence — to the Holy Spirit. Indeed, it speaks of Him as God — "Your presence."

David realised that there is no hiding place from God. His Spirit knew exactly where he was, what he was thinking, saying and doing. A most sobering thought. David's sin with Bathsheba and his other failures would never have happened had he remembered the omnipresence of the Spirit of God. Needless to say, the same applies to all believers in Christ.

There is no hiding from God's knowledge, no place where it is not. No wonder the psalmist should say, "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it." It is not that anyone might say, "God knows everything, and of course He knows all about me." A person might have that awareness and still not know what it is to be searched by the Spirit of God. We must come to feel it ourselves. Until that happens, we will not have the full sense of what God's salvation is.

In the first part, Spirit and presence are, I suppose, essentially the same. Heaven and Sheol — the place of the dead, not Gehenna, the place of judgment — are far apart. Omnipresence alone is the question here. In the next part, it is about relation to the Omnipresent One, and that in dependence. The wings of the dawn and the farthest parts of the sea seem to carry the thought of complete solitude. But "even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me." In the third part, exposure is what he cannot escape. Darkness and light differ only for man; for God there is no difference.

I cannot get out of God's hand, and I cannot stand before His presence; then comes this: "Search me… try me." It is real grace looking at us.

Here, Spirit and presence are, I suppose, essentially the same. But heaven and hell — Sheol or hades, not Gehenna — are as far apart as can be. It is omnipresence, simply, that is in question.

Thinking of his own failure in responsibility, the godly man is overwhelmed in the presence of the omniscience of God. He would gladly flee from the presence of God and escape His all-searching gaze. He finds, however, that God is not only omniscient but also omnipresent. There is no escape from the Spirit of God; no place that God cannot penetrate; no solitude where God is not; no darkness that can hide from God.

"If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there" — a very strange verse for Dr. Farrar to quote. Strange, because the word for "hell" here is sheol, as of course he knows. It is one of the words he himself describes elsewhere as "a place both for the bad and the good," and which "means an intermediate state of the soul previous to judgment." So it is not "hell" in the ordinary sense at all.

It is folly to think of the abode of the lost as independent of God. Whether it be "the spirits now in prison," or the bottomless pit, or the lake of fire, God, not Satan, reigns. His will at last must be obeyed. "If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there!"

He fled from the presence of the Lord. This cannot possibly mean that he fled from the presence of Him whom he knew as the omnipresent One... He did not flee from the presence of the Lord in the sense of escaping His knowledge and authority. It means that he left the land of Israel where Jehovah dwelt; he fled from the service-commission he had received.

The sense of God's omniscience and of His omnipresence cannot make a saint at home in God's presence. Rather the contrary. God's eye on him is no comfort. From under that eye he cannot escape, wherever he goes... What then can bring relief? The answer is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The Psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it.

Suppose the swift rays of the morning sun carried him to the distant parts of the ocean, where no one lives. Even there he could not hide. God's hand would lead him, and God's strong grip would hold him.

Here it is a matter of relation to the Omnipresent, and that in dependence. The wings of the morning and the uttermost parts of the sea seem to convey complete solitude. But "even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me."

The godly man thinks of his own failure in responsibility, and the God who knows everything overwhelms him. He would gladly flee from the presence of God and escape His all-searching gaze. He finds, however, that God is not only all-knowing but also everywhere present. There is no escape from the Spirit of God. No place that God cannot enter. No solitude where God is not. No darkness that can hide from God.

Foolish man! He had probably often read and sung the Psalm of David that asks, "Where shall I go from Your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from Your presence?… If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me." (Psalm 139:7-12) Yet "Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the LORD."

Have we not, like him, tried to go west when God has told us to go east?… And have we not had to learn, to our sorrow and shame, how useless such attempts are? We have also learned how near God's hand is to deliver those who call on Him out of the prison of self-inflicted distress.

The deepest self-searching — the most thorough sifting of all that the heart holds — goes together with the fullest enjoyment of assured peace and confidence in God. His right hand holds that soul in the grip of sure salvation. His precious thoughts of peace rest on it through every experience of its pilgrim journey.

There is no terror in this remembrance of God's all-pervading presence. For He who fills all things is the Saviour of His own (Eph. 4:10). The Searcher of His people's hearts is also the Redeemer of their souls.

The sense that God knows everything and is everywhere cannot provide that. The opposite is true. God's eye on him is no comfort. He cannot escape from under that eye, wherever he goes. To whatever place he might take himself, that eye would still be on him (verses 1-12). What then can bring relief? The answer is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it.

Scripture also bears witness that our Lord Jesus Christ is present everywhere, as God alone can be. How sweet the comfort His living words bring to everyone God's grace has saved: "Behold, I am with you always."

When the godly man thinks of how he has failed in his responsibility, God's complete knowledge overwhelms him. He would gladly run from God's presence and escape His all-searching gaze. But he finds that God is not only all-knowing; He is also everywhere. There is no escape from the Spirit of God. No place can shut God out. No solitude is without Him. No darkness can hide anyone from Him.

In the next section it is relationship with the God who is everywhere, and that in dependence. The wings of the dawn and the farthest parts of the sea seem to carry the thought of complete solitude. But "even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me."

Someone may go as far as possible over the sea, where no one lives. Even there God's hand will lead him, and His right hand of power will hold him.

This cannot mean that he fled from the presence of the One he knew to be everywhere. David's psalm, which says this plainly, was already in Israel's hands, and Jonah must have known it… He did not flee from the presence of the Lord in the sense of escaping His knowledge and authority. It means that he left the land of Israel where the LORD dwelt; he fled from the service He had given him.

Have we not, like him, tried to go west when God told us to go east?… Have we not had to learn, to our sorrow and shame, how useless such tries are? And have we not also learned how near God's hand is to deliver those who call on Him out of the prison of distress they brought on themselves? That deliverance comes as soon as we, in the fish's belly, have learned the lesson God was teaching us there.

The state of man by nature is "without God," even though God may bless him with all natural things. He would be glad to be out of God's presence if he could, but in one sense he cannot. "If I take the wings of the morning…" You cannot fly from His presence; yet you are miserable in it.

Here we see the people of God in the light of God, standing in His presence. He knows everything, and He is everywhere… And what a comfort to know that He knows and that He sees! He is about us, around us, with us everywhere. His hand leads, His hand holds up the saint, and darkness and light are both alike to Him.

In Psalm 139 we have a man upon whom the light of God arises, but we find him at first very unwilling to be searched by that light. He would fly from it if he knew where a hiding place could be found. He says, "If I ascend to heaven, You are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there!" … He has to learn there is no hiding place from God, and that God knows him perfectly.

The wings of the dawn and the uttermost parts of the sea seem to convey the thought of the greatest possible solitude. But "even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me." In the third section, exposure is what he cannot escape: darkness and light are relative only to man; for God there is no difference.

Or if he looks for cover in the dark, that is not darkness to God. Light and darkness make no difference to Him. He is the Creator of darkness, just as He is of light. Men love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil. Still, it is folly for them to try to hide from God this way.

David's flagrant sin in the matter of Uriah the Hittite was committed in secret. But God knew the whole sordid story, and exposed his guilt to all Israel. The king said within himself, "Surely the darkness shall cover me." But he had to learn that the darkness itself could not hide from Jehovah. To his shame, he found his secret sin revealed in the light of the sun. Like Moses, David had to say to God, "You have set our iniquities before You; our secret sins in the light of Your presence."

We can never get from under this searching process… When God gives life to a sinner, dead in trespasses and sins, He makes him know what he is. He is not only a sinner by acts of disobedience, but a sinner by nature, and sin "dwells" in him. And this He does by searching him, and winnowing his paths, and making him, in measure, see himself, even as God sees him.

The first section speaks of Jehovah's omniscience simply, as felt by one who is in awe of it. In the second section that fear breaks out into the cry of one who would gladly escape to the ends of the earth, or into Sheol itself, to be free from it. But he knows well that this is impossible… In the fourth section he is now with God against the evil shown in the world. From what he fears and hates within himself, the presence of God now becomes his sanctuary and refuge. He invites the searching Eye which once he dreaded.

What first reaches the soul is the knowledge of Jehovah, intimate and searching, and it makes the soul shrink before Him (vv. 1-6). It is the Light that makes the truth of everything clear. Where nothing in a person answers to it from God, the effort is to flee from His presence (vv. 7-12). But this is impossible! The heavens, Sheol, earth's unreachable places, or darkness itself, all bear the same testimony. How deeply solemn a thought for one who wants to escape that Presence, and to whom darkness would be a resource!

And so we see, as in Psalm 139, the Trinity is omniscient (verses 1 to 6); omnipresent (verses 7 to 12); and omnipotent (verses 13 to end).

In the third, exposure is what he cannot escape: darkness and light are relative only to man; for God there is no difference.

In Psalm 139 we have a man upon whom the light of God arises, but at first he is very unwilling to have that light search him. He would fly from it if he could find a hiding place… He has to learn there is no hiding-place from God, and that God knows him perfectly.

We can never get from under this searching process… When God gives life to a sinner who is dead in trespasses and sins, He makes him know what it is to be a sinner — not only by acts of disobedience, but by nature, with sin that "dwells" in him. And this He does by searching him, and sifting his paths, and making him, in measure, see himself, even as God sees him.

David committed his flagrant sin in the matter of Uriah the Hittite in secret. But God knew the whole sordid story, and exposed his guilt to all Israel (2 Sam. 12:12). The king said within himself, Surely the darkness shall cover me. He had to learn that darkness hides nothing from Jehovah, and, to his shame, God brought his secret sin into the light of the sun (Ps. 139:11-12).

The first section speaks of Jehovah's omniscience simply, as realized by one who is in awe of it. In the second section that fear breaks out into the cry of one who would gladly escape to the ends of the earth, or into Sheol itself, to be free from it. But he knows well that this is impossible. In the third section there is a change… The preciousness of God's thoughts toward him now takes possession of him. That the unsleeping Eye is on him, sleeping or waking, becomes only happiness… He invites the searching Eye which once he dreaded.

There is no terror in this remembrance of God's all-pervading presence. For He who thus fills all things is the Saviour of His own (Eph. 4:10). The Searcher of His people's hearts is likewise the Redeemer of their souls… We cannot truly grow in the knowledge of God unless He brings us consciously under His eye, as in this Psalm. But this scrutiny our flesh instinctively avoids.

Knowing that God sees everything and is everywhere cannot make a person at home in God's presence. Just the opposite. God's eye on him is no comfort. From under that eye he cannot escape, wherever he goes (1–12). What then can bring relief? The answer to this is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The Psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it. So up to verse 12 he is uneasy. In verse 13, however, he strikes a different note. The first thing that brings relief is remembering that God thought of him when he was in his mother's womb (13–16).

Everything about every individual is perfectly known to God, for He formed even the inward parts or kidneys, as the original really is, sometimes called "reins" because of being in driving control. The kidneys filter impurities from the blood, just as we are responsible to filter out all that is inconsistent with truth. God has made us with this ability, whether or not we use it rightly. But from the womb of one's mother, God is active in forming the individual (v. 13), and this fact awakens the praise of the psalmist's heart.

"For You have acquired my reins" is the keynote of what follows. "The reins" stand for the very innermost parts. In the Old Testament they mean the deepest recesses of the mind. That is where the basic moral questions are weighed and settled — the good received and the evil rejected. God is the Master here — Lord of the conscience. Conscience keeps reminding us of Him and calls us before His judgment seat. He has gained this right over us by the fact the psalmist states next: that He is our Maker. "You have acquired my reins: You covered" — or, perhaps, "did interweave me in my mother's womb." Marvellous power was at work there — not aimlessly, but with purpose and plan.

We are the work of His hands. Here it is man as man, so that the earth out of which he was fashioned at first is like the womb out of which we were born. God has formed us, whether in the womb of dust or of our mother, the place where we were nothing before we were. The same God has always thought of us along the road. This is how confidence is gained. Gained this way, it still reaches to all God's creative knowledge and power. If He sees in the dark, He keeps in the dark.

What mysteries are wrapped up in the development of the unborn child! Every part unfinished, but not flawed — mysteries of nature, body, mind, soul and spirit; mysteries known to God alone. God knew every part before it existed, and it was written in His book. While the body was being formed, God's eye rested on it. How blessed for the Christian to realise that God was interested in him before he existed… There has never been a moment in our lives when God was not interested in us, watching over us and caring for us with an infinite and eternal love. And there never will be, for all eternity.

We do not become valuable by what we do (even if it is to marry), but are valuable because God has created us and we are precious in His eyes (see Ps. 139:12–16).

Christians are naturally disposed to find in all this the typical presentation of Christian truths. But however this may do as application, the literal meaning must come first, and be the foundation of all the rest. It is true that this speaks to us only of the Creator, and leaves the question of sin unbottomed. Yet a soul that has realized redemption can and will come back to God's creative thoughts, with fresh understanding of the truth that He cannot "forsake the work of His own hands."

What then can bring relief? The answer is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it. So up to verse 12 he is uneasy. In verse 13 he changes his tone. The first thing that brings relief is remembering that God thought of him when he was in his mother's womb. That memory changes his whole key. "I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." He has stopped thinking about himself. He is now taken up with God.

The older word "reins" means the very innermost parts. In the Old Testament it stands for the deepest part of the mind. That is where a person settles the basic moral questions, takes in the good and turns down the evil. God is the Master there. He is Lord of the conscience, which keeps reminding us of Him and calls us before His judgment seat. He has this right over us for the reason the psalmist now gives: He is our Maker… Great power was at work there. It did not work aimlessly, but with purpose and plan.

The psalmist (Ps. 139:13-16) is troubled that God's eye is always on him. He has only to look back and think how that same eye watched over him before he was born, while his finely woven body was still taking shape. How could he do anything other than welcome the eye of such a One to search him through and through?

God searches everything. Even so, the psalmist says, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." He sees that he is God's handiwork. Only then can he ask God to search him: "Search me… try me." It is real grace looking at us.

Astronomers turn their telescopes to the sky to see the marvellous works of God. But the most marvellous work of all is the astronomer himself. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. But do our souls know this well?

Look at man; is he not most skilfully and wonderfully put together? See in the same person the loftiest flights of thought, and the most degrading passions! Physically and morally, we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Read these verses together, and leave out the words that older Bibles print in italics as added words. Then you will see that the subject is the creation of the natural body. With what we know now, we can see that it may also carry a figurative meaning.

Suppose we could not link Christ with this psalm. Suppose we could not go on from it to see ourselves as God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus, with everything done under His eye. Then the thought of being shown as we are in His presence would fill us with dread instead of praise.

In the third part of the psalm there is a change. A tender thankfulness comes in. He thinks of how, in his mother's womb, this same all-knowing God had been at work, building the marvellous structure of the future man in mysterious secrecy. God's thoughts toward him now become precious to him. And now it is only happiness that the unsleeping Eye is on him, sleeping or waking.

Knowing that God knows everything, and that He is everywhere, cannot make a believer feel at home with Him. Just the opposite. God's eye on him is no comfort. He cannot escape from under that eye, wherever he goes… In verse 13, however, he strikes a different note. The first thing that brings him relief is remembering that God thought of him when he was in his mother's womb.

Scripture uses this verb in a striking passage in this wonderful psalm, the 139th, which traces God's thought and care of man from his beginnings in the womb: "My substance was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought" — that is, embroidered — "in the lowest parts of the earth." And indeed, nothing pictures the fine interweaving of nerves, veins and arteries so well as a marvellous embroidery. This is true of all men. Can God then be lacking in consideration and tenderness for a being on whom He has bestowed such wonderful care?

He goes on to speak of these marvels: the bony framework that holds up the flesh, and the delicate embroidery of vessels and nerves branching through it. God worked all of this in secret, in "underparts of earth." Surely that does not mean the ground, which would hardly have been true of Adam. It means that human substance which is only animated dust.

Certainly one's frame was not hidden from God. His Creator had acted in secret with marvellous skill "in the lowest parts of the earth" (v. 15). This may be a reference to Adam's being formed from the dust of the earth (Genesis 2:7).

What mysteries are wrapped up in the development of the unborn child! Every part unfinished, but not flawed — mysteries of nature, body, mind, soul and spirit; mysteries known to God alone. God knew every part before it existed. He had written it in His book. Before it really existed, while it was being formed, God's eye rested upon it. How blessed for the Christian to realise that God was interested in him before he had any being.

But He has taken our inmost being as His own. He has made us for Himself. We are His, we belong to Him… Astronomers point their telescopes at the heavens to see the marvellous works of God, while the most marvellous works of all are there in the astronomer himself. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. But do our souls know this well?

How can a saint come to feel at home in God's presence? Knowing that God knows everything, and is everywhere, cannot do it. Rather the opposite. God's eye on him is no comfort. Wherever he goes, he cannot escape that eye. What then can bring relief? God's thoughts, as He has revealed them, can do it. The Psalmist's own thoughts about God have not done it… In verse 13 he strikes a different note, and the first thing that brings relief is the memory that God thought of him while he was in his mother's womb. That memory has completely changed his tone. "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well" (14). He has turned right away from thinking about himself, and is now taken up with God.

And the Lord knew perfectly the substance of every individual long before this formation took place. He did not have to experiment to find what might work. Instead, everything about that person stood written in His book — figuratively speaking, of course — long before he existed. How little indeed can we understand such wisdom!

We are the work of His hands. Here it is man as man, so that the earth out of which he was fashioned at first is as the womb out of which we were born. God has formed us, be it in the womb of dust or of our mother, the place where we were nothing before we were.

God knew every part of the body before it existed. He had written it in His book. And while that part was still forming, before it truly existed, His eye rested on it. What a blessing for a Christian to realise that God took an interest in him before he existed at all! And to realise, as Paul did, that God's eye was on him from his mother's womb (Galatians 1:15). There has never been a moment in our lives — and there never will be, for all eternity — when God was not interested in us. He watches over us and cares for us with an infinite and eternal love.

People have often put forward another passage in Psalm 139 as proof that it gives us a plain revelation about the Church of God… Leave out the words printed in italics, and read these verses together. You will see that the subject is the creation of the natural body. Yet with the knowledge we now have, we can easily see that it may also have a figurative application.

If the Psalmist (Psalm 139:13-16) was troubled that God's all-seeing eye was always on him, he had only to look back. That same eye watched over him before he was born, while his finely woven body was slowly forming. How could he do anything but welcome the eye of such a One to search him through and through?

Behind this lies the old error that my value depends on what others think of me… We do not become valuable by what we do — not even by marrying. We are valuable because God has created us, and we are precious in His eyes (see Psalm 139:12-16).

Here we have in the psalm which follows (139) how a saint can come to be at home in the divine presence. The sense of God's omniscience as well as of His omnipresence cannot provide that. Rather the opposite. God's eye on him is no comfort. From under that eye he cannot escape, wherever he goes... What then can bring relief? The answer is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it.

He knows all, because He has also formed all. This connects us with His taking perfect notice of us in goodness. He cares for us. He watches over every part of the body as it is formed, just as He knows our every thought. If He does, He has His own thoughts too, and these are precious to us. This is just the change and working of faith. It must begin with conscience under God's eye, because that brings us into His presence. Then it reaches God's thoughts.

When at last he realises that God's "works" and God's "thoughts" are toward him in grace, the omniscience of God becomes the source of his deepest comfort.

Our souls do not just need thoughts about God. Every religion, divine or human, true or false, will teach us to think about God. What we need is God's own thoughts brought into our souls. Those thoughts are learned only in the Word, with authority and without mixture. The Scriptures are these thoughts of God conveyed to us. And the psalmist can say of them, "How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!"

This is a blessed theme: the theme of God's thoughts. They are higher than our thoughts, as the heavens are higher than the earth. It is the theme of God's grace, which has no bottom and no limit. Here is real liberty. Our own thoughts are so narrow, so poor, so mean. Do we know what it is to have them beaten down by God's high, generous, liberal thoughts — His thoughts about us, about what we are in Christ?

Every spiritual mind will readily agree that verse 17 applies to Jesus as its true subject. For it is He who from eternity filled the thoughts of God above all. The church, or any other creature, becomes the object of the Lord's thoughts only as it is in Him. Nor can those thoughts be numbered by the tongue of man. Their full expression is in Christ, and they are precious.

And these thoughts of God are eternal. He had them about us before the world began. Even then He purposed to have us in the same relationship His Son has to Himself, and in all the love of which His Son is the worthy object.

Those thoughts are numberless, for they are like the sand. How could they be counted? Trying to count them would put a man to sleep. But even sleep would not take him out of the presence of the Lord (v. 18).

And what is the reply of the soul to all the sifting it has consciously passed through? "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!" If that is the result, we may well say, "How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!" ... Let this precious thought comfort our hearts. The Lord is sifting away much that we have valued more than Himself. But He does it only to bring out what He knows lies at the bottom of our hearts.

The psalm shows how a believer can come to be at home in God's presence. Knowing that God knows everything and is everywhere cannot provide that. Rather the opposite. God's eye on him is no comfort. He cannot escape from under that eye, wherever he goes. What then can bring relief? The answer to this is very simple and very blessed. God's thoughts as revealed can do it. The psalmist's thoughts about God have not done it. So up to verse 12 he is uneasy. In verse 13, however, he strikes a different note. The first thing that brings relief is the memory that God thought of him when he was in his mother's womb.

To him they were a revelation of God's thoughts toward him — precious thoughts of divine wisdom and love. Looked at as a whole — the final outcome of it all — the sum was great indeed. But if you took them up to look at them in detail, they were numberless as the grains of sand. And still, to the man wakened up out of the unconsciousness of his beginning, as he has been recounting it, this same God remains. Could he wish to have Him banished?

Those thoughts are numberless, for they are like the sand. How could anyone count them? Trying to count them would put one to sleep; but even his sleep would not deprive him of the presence of the Lord (v. 18).

The thoughts of God mentioned in verses 17 and 18 may be applied to the thoughts of His love in redemption. How precious are these thoughts, in which He has remembered the sinner's need. They are indeed more than the sand.

God is love, and all the thoughts of God spring from the great love of His heart... Eternity alone will be required to tell out all these great thoughts of love. Let us get our hearts and minds well stored with them. They were all purposed and thought out before the world's foundation.

He would not have it otherwise. He was oppressed before; now he is free in spirit, and he takes God's side against God's enemies... "O LORD, You have searched me and known me," are the opening words. "Search me, O God, and know my heart." ... Awake, he knows he is with God.

David could say, "When I awake, I am still with You" (v. 18). But we know the new creation power that worked in Christ in raising Him from among the dead... How blessed our portion, not only to be "still with" Him but to be seated there where He is in Christ Jesus.

"When I awake I am still with You" (Ps. 139:18). If you would still be with God, watch over your hearts every day; lock up your hearts with God every morning, and give Him the key.

This connection with God is a perfect breaking with the wicked: God will slay them. And he calls on them to depart from him. So he looks at the wicked with horror, because of what they are to God — and for himself, that he may be searched throughout, that no wickedness may remain in him.

The believer is of God (1 John 5:19). So deep within, he feels with the judgment that God's holiness passes on human evil. All the thoughts of God are precious to His people. That is why the solemn threats of vengeance on the ungodly come to the believer as promises of comfort (2 Thess. 1:7; Jude 14).

Christians do not want their ruin as souls, and neither does God. But seen as wicked, as haters of the Lord, one does want them removed by judgment. One hates them as such, and is glad when they are taken away from corrupting and destroying the earth. Does this desire for their judgment come from holiness and righteousness, and not from self-will? Then we will also want evil in ourselves fully searched out. It is the hatred of evil as under the eye of an all-seeing God.

The last six verses of the psalm (vv. 19–24) show us something with great force. To live under God's eye and in His presence, as the blessed object of His work and purposes of grace, produces practical holiness. He separates from evil and refuses all association with the wicked.

It is 'Eloah', the supreme God alone, who slays the wicked. And to 'El', the holy One who is supreme over evil, he says, "Search me… and see if there be any grievous [or idolatrous] way in me."

We should not pray for God's judgment against enemies today, for we live in the day of grace. We ought instead to pray for our enemies. We should ask the Lord Jesus to deal with them in such a way that they may be saved, before the judgment of God has to overtake them. But the time will come, after the Lord has come for us and taken the Church into His presence, when it will be perfectly in keeping with the truth to ask for the destruction of God's enemies… Notice that judgment is not wanted here for personal reasons. It is wanted because these enemies are set against God.

As to the wicked who would trouble us here, we can leave them to God. They hate God and speak wickedly of Him. We have come to know God in the intimacy of His presence, so we cannot help hating the wickedness shown against Him… But while loathing the evil in others, we must constantly live in self-judgment.

If He is sifting His own people, He will judge all this proud Christianity… But should the knowledge that we are delivered from the wrath to come leave us pleased with ourselves? By no means. God has searched us and known us, and that certainty shelters us. So we can turn this truth into a prayer… Only the man who knows the shelter of the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ and the mercy seat of God, and who knows that God has already searched him and known him, could pray such a prayer.

The psalmist turns to consider the wicked. God made them, just as He made the righteous. But they have deliberately turned against Him and become His enemies… Notice that he does not ask for judgment for personal reasons. He asks it because these enemies have set themselves against God. They speak wickedly against Him (v. 20), and take His name in vain. God has been patient with them for a long time. He does not want anyone to perish, but wants all to come to repentance. But they have resisted His pleading and set themselves in firm opposition to His kind appeals.

How awful, then, is the condition of the wicked. They are strangers and enemies to the One who made them. The very Author of their life must give them over to death. The psalmist fully agrees with God's sentence, and counts the enemies of God as enemies of his own.

The believer belongs to God (1 John 5:19), so deep inside he agrees with the judgment of God's holiness on human evil. All the thoughts of God are precious to His people. So the solemn warnings of vengeance that will fall on the ungodly come to the believer as promises of comfort (2 Thess. 1:7; Jude 14)… A believer hates sin. He hates it whether in himself or in the world.

Today God is acting in sovereign grace. Those who have the mind of heaven pray for the salvation of sinners, and God answers their prayers by blessing souls. In the day to come God will act in judgment. Then those who have His mind will rightly use the Psalms that call for judgment. Like the saints on earth in Old Testament days, they will reach their blessing through the judgment of their enemies.

The whole Bible is for us, but not all of it is about us. Some parts of the Psalms belong to the Lord Jesus alone. Some belong to Him together with the remnant of Israel. And some parts may be applied to the Christian now.

This closeness to God means a complete break with the wicked: God will slay them. And he tells them to leave him. So he looks at the wicked with horror, because of what they are to God. For himself, he wants God to search him right through, so that no wickedness may remain in him… But when we are God's workmanship — that is, when grace and power have come in — His thoughts become precious to us. Then we can ask Him to search us, know us and test us. The more, the better, so that, emptied of self, we may be able to enjoy God.

This connection with God is a complete break with the wicked: God will slay them. And he calls on them to leave him. So he looks at the wicked with horror, because of what they are to God. And for himself, he asks God to search him right through, so that no wickedness may remain in him.

It is for this reason that the psalmist hates them. It seems these enemies have gone beyond even wanting any change. So there is no alternative but judgment. He says, "I hate them with perfect hatred" (v. 22). Does that not imply that the hatred has matured rightly? Since they are God's enemies, then the believer is expected to consider them his enemies also.

Notice here that the judgment is not asked for personal reasons. It is asked because these enemies are lined up against God. They speak wickedly against Him (v. 20), and take His name in vain. God has dealt with them long and patiently. He is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. But they have resisted His pleading. They have set themselves in firm opposition to His gracious offers.

The believer belongs to God (1 John 5:19). So in his inner being he shares God's holy judgment on human evil. The solemn warnings of the vengeance that will fall on the ungodly come to the believer as promises of comfort... A believer hates sin. He hates it whether in himself or in the world. His flesh, instead of hating sin, delights in it. So in all God's children there is a constant conflict between flesh and Spirit... Sin is the only thing that a believer, walking in the Spirit, either dreads or hates. For that alone can cut off his soul's communion with God, who is the true and valued source of all his joy.

The Lord answered them, "You do not know what kind of spirit you are of." They stood under a different order of God's dealings. It was not the order of law, but of grace, since "grace and truth" had come "by Jesus Christ." As long as grace is preached, judgment must wait. Yet judgment must eventually come for those who refuse the grace of God.

We should not pray for God's judgment against enemies today, for we live in the day of grace. We ought rather to pray for our enemies, that the Lord Jesus may so deal with them that they may be saved, before the judgment of God has to overtake them.

It was no time for polite manners and smooth speech... But he hates those who hate the Lord, and is grieved with those who rise up against Him (Ps. 139:21-22). He counts them his own enemies for the sake of the truth, which he loves. Yet his anger is still with meekness. He wishes, but his Lord alone can act as the avenger of His name. Our day shows little of the apostle's spirit. Sound teaching and false teaching now exchange friendly greetings on the shared ground of human sympathy... Everywhere a spirit of compromise is at work.

It is for this reason that the psalmist hates them. It seems these enemies have gone past even wanting any change. So there is no option left but judgment. When it says, "I hate them with complete hatred" — older translations read "perfect hatred" — does it not imply that the hatred has matured rightly? Since they are God's enemies, the believer is expected to count them his enemies too.

But, further, this connection with God is a complete break with the wicked: God will slay them. And he calls on them to depart from him. So he looks at the wicked with horror, because of what they are to God. And for himself, he asks God to search him right through, so that no wickedness may remain in him.

The believer belongs to God. So deep inside, he agrees with the judgment that God's holiness passes on human evil. All the thoughts of God are precious to His people… A believer hates sin. He hates it whether in himself or in the world. His flesh, instead of hating sin, delights in it. So in all God's children there is a constant conflict between flesh and Spirit. Sin is the only thing that a believer, walking in the Spirit, dreads or hates. That alone can cut off his soul's communion with God, who is the source of all his joy.

We should not pray for God's judgment against enemies today. We live in the day of grace. We ought instead to pray for our enemies, that the Lord Jesus might so deal with them that they may be saved before God's judgment has to overtake them. But a time will come, after the Lord comes for us and takes the Church into His presence, when it will be perfectly consistent with truth to ask for the destruction of God's enemies… Yet notice here that it is not for personal reasons that the judgment is desired, but rather because these enemies are set against God.

But he hates those who hate the Lord, and is grieved with those who rise up against Him (Ps. 139:21-22). He counts them his own enemies for the sake of the truth, which he loves. Yet his anger is still with meekness. He wishes, but his Lord alone can act as the avenger of His name.

The psalmist is in perfect agreement with the divine sentence, and counts the enemies of God as enemies to himself. But he knows his own sickness too. God's holy presence is not only a refuge from the wickedness around him. He seeks it as a refuge from himself also, and welcomes its light, as the place where sin cannot hide.

He was oppressed before. Now, free in spirit, he takes God's side against God's enemies (19-22), sure of their final defeat. Then the Psalm closes, but so differently from the spirit in which it opened.

The natural man says, "Where shall I flee from Your presence?" But at the end of Psalm 139 he says, "Search me, O God, and know my heart." As far as you know the things of God, is your heart in tune with Him? Could you say, "Search me"? It is a painful process sometimes.

He knows about his own sickness too. God's holy presence is not only a refuge for him from the wickedness around him. He seeks it as a refuge from himself too, and welcomes its light, as the place where sin cannot be hidden. "Search me," he cries, "O Mighty One, and know my heart; try me, and know my diverse" — literally, "branching" — "thoughts." He means all those tangles of thought, so confusing to him, which God alone could unravel. Then: "and see if there be any grievous way in me" — anything that is grievous to You.

The words we come to Him with are not, "Lord, I have searched and tried myself, and I have seen." They are rather, "Search me, O God, and try me; and see if there be any grievous way in me; and lead me in the way everlasting."

Is there anything inside me that would grieve You, anything against You? Perhaps I am holding on to something selfish. Something may be deceiving me. I may have wrong thoughts about myself. So I need God to search me and try me, "and lead me in the way everlasting."

The fact is, of course, that God knows all about me at all times. He knows whether I am sleeping or awake, and whether I am aware that His eyes are on me or not. But when I grasp the truth that God knows everything, the way the psalmist had, I shall, like him, want to walk in the awareness of it all the time. My heart will cry out to God that day by day I may always walk with the light of His face shining on me.

Even an Old Testament saint could say, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." He did not know the greater power and privilege of the gospel. How much more should we welcome the word that makes it good in us! That word detects and destroys the seeds of trouble. What could be more gracious, even if the probe is sharp?

The searchings of God showed him the evil course he was taking. It was a path of his own choosing, but against the guidance of God... But now he wants to be led in the way everlasting. The path that has no death in it is the path he cries out for.

"Lead me in the way everlasting." Is not this way Christ Himself, the only way, the way everlasting?... All is well that leads us "in the way everlasting," that beats us out of our own ways and brings us there.

He seeks God's presence as a refuge from himself too. He welcomes its light, as the place where sin cannot be hidden. "Search me," he cries, "and know my heart; try me, and know my diverse" — literally, "branching" — "thoughts." He means all those perplexing tangles of thought which God alone could unravel. "And see if there be any grievous way in me" — anything which is grievous to You: "and lead me in the way everlasting."

Clearly not for His own information. Why then were we searched? We were searched that we might know ourselves. This is what we have to learn at the beginning of God's dealings with us. We do not naturally want to be searched, for nothing morally good is found in us... But we may learn a great deal, and we shall learn very much if we answer to His searchings and are glad that we are searched. At first we do not like it. But when we see a little of the good of it, we are glad to be searched.

Heart-searching may take place in two ways. I may search my own heart, or God may search my heart. If I search my heart myself, I shall end in spiritual failure, and may even become a proud Pharisee. A man who searches his own heart by a light he lit himself lies open to the subtle deceitfulness of his own heart.

In the psalmist's experience, knowing that God knows everything at first plunges his soul into the deepest distress. He thinks of how he has failed in his own responsibilities towards God. Then at last he realizes that God's "works" and God's "thoughts" are toward him in grace. Now the God who knows everything becomes the source of his deepest comfort.

"There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death" (Proverbs 14:12). God's searchings showed him the evil course he was on. It was a path of his own choosing, against the guidance of God... But now he desires to be led in the way everlasting. The path that has no death in it is the path he cries out for. Is there then a way that has no end, no death in it? Yes there is indeed: "In the path of righteousness is life, and in its pathway there is no death." And what is that pathway? It is the pathway of the will of God, to which no end can be put.

"Lead me in the way everlasting."… Is not this way Christ Himself, the only way, the way everlasting? … He is pleased to search out our own ways, so that He may lead us in that way. He shows us that Christ must be in practice to us what He declares Himself to be in His word: "the first and the last," our "Alpha and Omega."

Even an Old Testament saint, who knew nothing of the greater power and privilege of the gospel, could say, "Search me, O God... and lead me in the way everlasting"... So the seeds of trouble are found out and destroyed. What can be more gracious, though the probe may be sharp? ... God in His goodness is proving us, to know and to let us know what is in our heart. It may be humbling, but nothing can be more wholesome.

The 140th psalm is clearly in a completely different line of thought from the one before it. We are again among men — in the middle of the strife going on in the world; and indeed in the trial of the last days. Surrounded by evil, the righteous are driven all the more to God as their resource. They encourage themselves in that holiness of His, which must show itself against the wickedness of their enemies.

The psalm looks for deliverance from these enemies on the earth. Possibly, in the "evil man," it notices the last enemy arising from within, more especially the Antichrist. And in "the violent," it notices those who seek their own will, pressing in from outside against the men of peace and righteousness.

In this Psalm the afflicted people of Israel come into trial with "the violent man" and the "evil speaker" and those joined with them. They cry for protection against the schemes of these enemies, and for judgment on them. Or the voice is Jesus — their great forerunner, and their sympathising Lord in all this affliction.

The Psalm, however, is one of character in those He sought to be delivered from — the evil ones and enemies, not designation.

For our present purpose I only note this. When the malice of the wicked is relentless and crafty, the psalm teaches us to throw ourselves wholly on the Lord. The saint cannot compete with the world in cunning and scheming. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning, and to Him we have to look. Notice the character of the Lord's people in the face of this wickedness. They are the afflicted, the poor, righteous, and upright. And they can count on the Lord against the evildoer and the wicked man.

David often needed the hand of God to deliver him from evil men. If we were watchful, we too would realise how often the enemy attacks us. He works by subtle suggestions, by insinuations, and by efforts to make us afraid or discouraged. May the Lord give us grace to see that these are not just unpleasant or trying circumstances. Satan designs them to drag us out of a path of simple faith. He does it by making us reason with ourselves about the pros and cons of any situation we face. This rationalising is not faith.

Note — Against the power of the wicked he appeals to "El," supreme in holiness over evil. But it is "Adonay" who is the strength of his salvation, and who covered his head in the day of battle. He is the Deliverer of His people, carrying out judgment on the wicked.

Scripture uses the poison of serpents and asps as a symbol of two things: the judgement of God, and the malignity that belongs to the wicked. Deuteronomy 32:24, 33; Job 6:4; Job 20:16; Psalm 58:4; Psalm 140:3; Romans 3:13. The tongue is "a restless evil, full of deadly poison." James 3:8. Job 6:4 apparently alludes to arrows being poisoned.

akshub. Psalm 140:3. This word occurs only once, and simply compares the wicked to adders who have "poison under their lips." It cannot be identified.

"They make their tongue sharp as a serpent's," just as Satan used his sharp tongue when he spoke to Eve in the garden of Eden (Genesis 3:1-5). The deadly poison of asps lay under his words. Eve did not notice it, so she let the poison of sin in. No wonder we are told here: "Selah" — pause and consider.

The voice of slander takes its inspiration from the first tempter. It loves hints and suggestions. An open attack would be thrown back, and a definite charge might prove the integrity it attacks. "Has God said?" might be the voice of innocence itself.

The third quotation is from Psalm 140:3: "under their lips is the venom of asps." The corruption of the flesh leads to lying. Lying leads to the poison of slander. The flesh that can lie to your face will slander you behind your back.

Romans 3:23 sums up the whole human race: "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." No Jew could consistently object to that statement. The condemnation comes as a mosaic of texts gathered from your own Old Testament Scriptures. You will find that Psalm 5:9; 10:7; 14:3; 140:3; Proverbs 1:16 are all quoted.

The poison of their tongues shows them to be the brood of the serpent, the instruments of the malignant power of Satan on the earth. This evil of the tongue comes up again more than once in the psalm. It especially marks the last days, which bring the full development of Antichrist and his "strong delusion."

If we were watchful, we would see something of how often the enemy attacks us: by subtle suggestions, by insinuations, by efforts to make us afraid or discouraged. May the Lord give us grace to see that these are not merely unpleasant or trying circumstances. Satan designs them to drag us out of a path of simple faith, by making us reason with ourselves about the pros and cons of any situation we face. This reasoning is not faith.

The psalmist can now turn to the Lord, sure of deliverance from every form of satanic evil around him (v. 3). The evil man, the violent man, the wicked man, the proud, and the man of evil tongue are all there. The question is: will such men be established in the earth? No! The Lord will take up the cause of the afflicted and the needy. Yes, the righteous and the upright will dwell in His presence.

Several words are used to point out the snares or pits by which animals are caught. They are also used as pictures of the snares men lay for one another, and especially of those that Satan lays to trap man into his power. Snares must be hidden to work. It is useless to set a net where a bird can see it, Proverbs 1:17; in the same way the hook in fishing is always concealed. The baits Satan uses are things men like, which may not always be moral evils in themselves — riches, honour, and so on — but which may end in the loss of the soul. The Christian, taught by God and led by the Holy Spirit, will not be ignorant of Satan's schemes, and will not fall by them.

Does not a snare represent evil hidden under a fair exterior? The apostle Paul warns us against being deceived with "enticing words" (Colossians 2:4), and tells us that in the professing Christian circle some will be caught "in the snare of the devil" (2 Timothy 2:26). We may think our own intelligence and grasp of the truth will keep us from snares and false teaching. But whatever our knowledge and gifts, unless we are in secret communion — abiding in Christ — there is no snare we cannot fall into.

If we identify the "evil man," he is probably the Antichrist. The "man of violence" is more likely the enemy from outside, the Assyrian, an invading foreign power. The proud, or high ones, here are ungodly Israelites.

Psalm 140 looks for deliverance from the evil and violent man. Israel is in connection with the Lord, but surrounded by the proud.

Evil spirits use proud people to lay snares for the righteous, and cords to bind them to evil purposes (v. 5). Or they spread a net by the wayside. In this case, let the believer stay on the way, not turning to either the right or the left side. If we are watching and keeping near the Lord, He will give us grace to avoid the enemy's traps.

We read in the New Testament of some who had fallen into the snare of the Devil and were taken captive by him at his will. He has made a careful study of every one of us. He knows our tendencies and weaknesses, and he lays his snares for us with great skill. We must not underrate our enemy; we are no match for him. If we meet him in our own strength and wisdom, we shall be like fools in the hands of a cheat.

Psalm 140. For our present purpose I need only note this: in the relentless and crafty malice of the wicked, it teaches us to cast ourselves wholly on the Lord. The saint cannot rival the world in craft and plotting. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning, and to Him we have to look. Notice too what the Lord's people are like in the face of this wickedness: they are the afflicted, the poor, the righteous, and the upright, and they can count on the Lord against the wicked man.

Again the psalmist prays for God's deliverance, in almost the same words. But now he names more exactly the schemes for his overthrow, the snares hidden in his path. From this he turns to affirm more strongly that the Mighty One is his refuge.

If God keeps us for Himself, He will also keep us from the violent enemies who are set on making us stumble. Evil spirits use proud people to lay snares for the righteous, and cords to tie them to evil purposes (v. 5). Or they spread a net beside the road. In this case, let the believer stay on the way, not turning to either the right or the left side. If we stay alert and keep near the Lord, He will give us grace to avoid the enemy's traps. So verse 6 carries keeping power: the psalmist recognizes the Lord as his God and expects Him to hear his pleas.

For our purpose here I note only this: faced with the relentless and crafty malice of the wicked, it teaches us to throw ourselves completely on the Lord. The believer cannot match the world at craft and plotting, but there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning. He is the One we must look to. Notice also what the Lord's people are like in the presence of this wickedness: they are the afflicted, the poor, the righteous and the upright. And they can count on the Lord against the evil-doer and the wicked man. He declares the LORD to be his God. In the same way we acknowledge God fully as ours, in the revelation of the Father and Jesus our Lord. And we do it openly, in front of the world.

The soul finds his strength in God. He has deliberately put himself under God's protection, taking Him as his own God. He confesses that God is the strength that delivers him, the One who can keep him safe in the day of battle. God is the all-sufficient resource: He saves and keeps the godly, and ruins the schemes of the wicked.

Supplication means pressing an urgent need in earnest. Prayer is more general, and puts forward our wants and wishes. Intercession means free and trusting conversation with God, whether for ourselves or for others.

The poor naturally turn to pleading; the rich just as naturally answer roughly. Grace lifts up the first and brings down the second — to the joy of faith, and to the pleasure of the Lord, who sees and weighs everything.

The evil man, if he is to be identified, is probably the Antichrist. The man of violence is more likely the enemy from outside, the Assyrian. The proud, or high ones, here are godless Israelites.

The evil man may mark the last enemy rising up from within them, above all the Antichrist. The violent man stands for those outside who push their own will against the men of peace and righteousness. Verses 12 and 13 show the sure confidence of faith in their situation. The psalm, however, describes a character in those He asked to be delivered from — the evil ones and the enemies. It does not name them.

The soul strengthens himself in God. He has definitely put himself under the protection of God as His God. He confesses that God is His strength for deliverance, the One who can preserve him in the day of battle. God has all that is needed to save and keep the godly, and to defeat the schemes of the wicked.

Here we have the cry for rescue from the evil and violent man. God covers the head of the faithful man in the day of his conflict, for God takes up his cause and rescues him.

Against the power of the wicked he appeals to 'El,' the God who is supreme in holiness over evil. But it is 'Adonay,' the Deliverer of His people, who carries out judgment on the wicked. He is the strength of his salvation, and He covered his head in the day of battle.

From the snares hidden in his path he turns to affirm, more strongly, that the Mighty One is his refuge. He is comforted by the real experience of how "Jehovah, the Lord, the strength of his salvation," had covered his head in the day of his arming: that is, with the helmet God provided for him.

God the Lord is the strength of his salvation, and He covers his head. Ephesians 6:17 shows what this means: "Take the helmet of salvation." That helmet is a true protection for the mind in the day of battle.

Wearing the helmet lets the believer hold his head high in front of the enemy. We resist the fiery darts of the devil by faith. Then, in our hard circumstances, we find that God is for us. He saves us not only from trials, but through them — as He carried the disciples through the storm.

This psalm teaches us to cast ourselves wholly on the Lord when the malice of the wicked is relentless and crafty. The believer cannot match the world in cunning and plotting. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning, and to Him we have to look. The psalmist acknowledges Jehovah as his God. In the same way we acknowledge God as fully ours, revealed as the Father and Jesus our Lord. We acknowledge Him, that is, in the face of the world.

We read of some who can say, "You have covered my head" (Psalm 140:7), but the leper must take off any covering he had. "His head bare" tells out one of the most terrible and most solemn truths about the defiled sinner that the mind of man can grasp. Dear reader, is your head covered? Or does the eye of God see nothing but uncleanness and defilement — with nothing under which you can hide?

Then the psalmist asks for nothing except what agrees with the will of God. God will certainly not grant the evil desires of the wicked. He will not back them up in their wicked schemes. If the wicked can only get some backing, they will be exalted, and that would be completely out of place.

Now he brings in the holiness of God against the evil. He prays that God will not grant the desire of the wicked, in case it feeds their pride; instead, may He give them the work of their own lips — the mischief they had been working so hard at.

The soul strengthens himself in God. He has definitely put himself under the protection of God as His God. He confesses that God is his strength for deliverance, the One who can keep him safe in the day of battle. God has all that is needed to save and preserve the godly, and to defeat the plots of the wicked.

In this psalm the Lord is spoken of as connected with the Jews in their trial, showing the wrongfulness of His enemies. The "wicked man" I believe to be Antichrist; the "violent man," the later enemies of the Jews, such as the Assyrian. And He prays for the Remnant: they are under Antichrist; from the violent they are preserved.

When the malice of the wicked is relentless and crafty, this psalm teaches us to throw ourselves completely on the Lord. The believer cannot match the world in craft and plotting. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning, and we have to look to Him. Notice what the Lord's people are like in the face of this wickedness. They are the afflicted, the poor, the righteous, and the upright. And they can count on the Lord against the evildoer and the wicked man.

In our own day of grace, we are not to pray for such judgment on enemies. We pray instead that they may be saved. When the day of grace has ended, the godly remnant of Israel will rightly plead for the judgment of the ungodly. It will be right then to ask God to give them what they deserve.

God covers the believer's head. But as for the head of those who surround the servant of the Lord, "let the evil of their lips cover them" (v. 9). So the folly of their lips will expose the thoughts of their heart.

He now brings in the holiness of God against the evil. He prays that God will not grant the wicked their desire, in case it feeds their pride. Instead, may He give them the work of their own lips — the mischief they had worked so hard at.

In this Psalm afflicted Israel is brought into trial with "the violent man" and the "evil speaker" and those who join them. They cry out for protection from the schemes of these enemies, and for judgment on them — above all the judgment of "fire" and the "pit" on the chiefs, or "heads." Jesus cries with them, for He went before them and feels with them in all this affliction.

The poison of their tongues shows them to be the offspring of the serpent, the tools of Satan's evil power on earth. This evil of the tongue comes up more than once in the psalm, and stands out in many others too. It is a special mark of the last days.

He desires that God's holy government against evil may take its course with the wicked. He asks that the mischief of their own lips may cover them. He asks that those who lay traps to bring down the godly may themselves be hunted by evil and brought down.

When the Psalmist cries, "Let burning coals fall upon them," the context makes it clear that he wants judgment on his enemies. That fits the principles of righteous government exactly, since his enemies are the enemies of Jehovah. But under the reign of grace all is changed. So the apostle writes, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'" More than that: while we leave an enemy in the Lord's hands, our own hearts are not to call down judgment. They are to go out in tender compassion towards him. So the apostle continues, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head." In the psalm, coals of fire on the enemy's head are a symbol of judgment from God's hand. In Romans the same image keeps the meaning of judgment — but self-judgment produced in the heart, not judgment falling on the enemy.

The rod of iron will at last hold down all open wickedness — the evil tongue, "the man given to tongue", along with the evil deed. Words are in fact often deeds, even if we sometimes set the two against each other.

For our present purpose I only note what this psalm teaches us. When we face the relentless and crafty malice of the wicked, we are to throw ourselves wholly over on the Lord. The saint cannot rival the world in craft and plotting. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning, and to Him we have to look. Notice what the Lord's people are like while this wickedness goes on. They are the afflicted, the poor, righteous, and upright. And they can count on the Lord against the evil-doer and the wicked man.

When Jesus takes the throne, this will of course involve the deliverance and vindication of the oppressed and afflicted. It is true that all through the ages it is the poor and needy who have been trodden down in the scramble of life. But "the poor and needy" in view here are without doubt the godly people whom the anti-Christian powers of the last days will persecute. The coming Roman leader will "wear out the saints of the Most High" (Dan. 7:25), while the King of kings will bring in deliverance.

When the man of violence is overthrown, from His rest the Lord says for them, "I know that Jehovah will maintain the cause of the afflicted." These are the poor, humbled, but soon to be blessed remnant of the Jews. He maintains "the right of the poor," for they are in Jesus. He is afflicted in their affliction. The righteous (made so) shall give thanks in Jehovah's name.

So men are tested, with serious and contrasting results. The slanderer and the violent man (v. 11) are seen to be against the Lord Jesus, slandering Him and acting in violence toward His servants. They will certainly not be established in the earth, and there is no place in heaven for them. How devastating their overthrow will be! In great contrast: "I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and will execute justice for the needy" (v. 12). Only these will stand the test, and so will give thanks to the Lord, claiming nothing as their own, yet "having all things." It will be wonderful for them to dwell in God's presence forever!

Care for the poor and needy will be a marked feature of the day of the Lord's rule (compare Ps. 72). There will also be the visible glory, as of old, but with far greater brightness, bathing the restored city in its light. The whole earth will witness that "the upright shall dwell in your presence."

The closing verses apply, as the psalm does throughout, to the experience of suffering faith at all times. Faith stands firm in the day of evil, held up by the sure hope of speedy deliverance (Rom. 16:20). Yet in their prophetic intention these verses seem to bear more on the earthly nation and its hopes.

The psalm closes with the psalmist's confidence that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and the right of the needy. The result is that the righteous praise the Lord's name in the Lord's presence.

For now I only need to note one thing. The psalm teaches us to throw ourselves wholly on the Lord when we face the relentless and crafty malice of the wicked. The saint cannot compete with the world in cunning and plotting. But there is One above all who knows the end from the beginning. To Him we have to look. It is worth noticing what the Lord's people are like while this wickedness lasts. They are the afflicted, the poor, righteous, and upright. And they can count on the Lord against the evildoer and the wicked man.

When the man of violence is overthrown, the Lord says for them, "I know that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted." These are the poor, humbled, but soon to be blessed remnant of the Jews. He maintains "the right of the poor," because they are in Jesus. He is afflicted in their affliction. The righteous (made so) will give thanks in the Lord's name. "The upright shall dwell in your presence," that is, in the Lord's presence, before Zion, in that day.

So men are tested, with serious and contrasting results. The slanderer and the violent man (v. 11) are seen to be against the Lord Jesus. They slander Him and act with violence toward His servants. They will not be established in the earth. And since there is no place in heaven for them, how devastating their overthrow will be! In great contrast, "I know the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and justice for the poor" (v. 12). Only these will stand the test. So they give thanks to the Lord, claiming nothing as their own, yet "having all things." How wonderful for them to dwell in God's presence forever!

On the other hand, care for the poor and needy will be a clear mark of the day of the Lord's rule, as we have seen in full (compare especially Ps. 72). There will also be the visible glory, as in the past, but far brighter, bathing the restored city in its light. That "the upright shall dwell in Your presence," the whole earth shall witness.

The day when all is shown openly is near. No place will be found for the wicked on the earth. At last the rod of iron will hold down all open wickedness — and the evil tongue, "the man given to tongue," along with the evil deed.

In this psalm the distress of the godly man deepens, and his prayer becomes more urgent. He desires that his prayer may be acceptable to God as incense, and as the evening offering.

Psalm 141 does indeed look for deliverance, but more for rightness of heart in trial. The desire is to be with God, near God, that God should draw near. The heart is with Him — is right with Him. He does not say "deliver" as his first desire, but "give ear to my voice." He asks that his prayer may be incense, and the lifting up of his hands the evening sacrifice.

The heart of the lonely man, under the pressure of evil around him, cries out for God. His plea is the very prayer he is making, and it cannot fail to find a response from the God who hears prayer.

David cries to the Lord to sustain him in his purpose to be preserved from the temptations of evil men (v. 1). He wants his prayer to be recognised by God as incense, that is, the genuine worship of a heart set on honouring God. This dependence would be as the evening sacrifice (v. 2). He was also concerned about his own lips. He asked God to set a guard over his mouth, to keep him from a careless slip, because he did not trust himself to do this (v. 3).

The godly man wants nothing in his words, his ways, or the company he keeps to hinder his prayers from being acceptable to God.

Look at David in the time of Saul, and there is much there to guide us in understanding the psalm. Prayer is the position in which he puts himself — praying the Lord to set a watch over him.

The last enemy does not fall until the kingdom is set up in peace. So Psalm 140 is a prayer for his fall, and Psalm 141 a prayer for preservation, and for profit from the discipline in the meantime.

David cries to the Lord to hold him firm in his purpose to be kept from the temptations of evil men (v. 1). He wants his prayer to be recognized by God as incense, that is, the genuine worship of a heart set on honoring God. This dependence would be as the evening sacrifice (v. 2).

The incense had to be beaten very small and laid on the coals of the altar (Ex. 30, Lev. 16). Only then could the perfume rise to God as a sweet fragrance. The prayers of believers, the product of their many different trials and sorrows, are a sweet fragrance to God.

It was at the time of the evening offering that Gabriel arrived and "touched" Daniel. The evening offering was the continual burnt offering, appointed to be presented morning and evening without a break. The temple had been destroyed, so it could no longer be offered. But Daniel stood before God in the value of it. That is, he identified himself in spirit with all its sweet fragrance, and it made up his own acceptance and gave his prayers their power.

If his prayer is to be acceptable, he feels that certain moral conditions are necessary. First, a guard must be set on his words, so that he says nothing out of keeping with the presence of the Lord. Second, his heart must be kept from every evil thing, and his hands from doing evil works. Third, he feels the deep need for separation from those who work iniquity. These are the moral conditions that in every age enable the godly to lift up "holy hands" in prayer (1 Tim. 2:8).

Psalm 141 does look for deliverance, but it looks more for rightness of heart in trial. The desire is to be with God, near God, that God should draw near. The heart is with Him — is right with Him. His first desire is not "deliver." It is "give ear to my voice" — that his prayer may be incense, the lifting up of his hands as the evening sacrifice. He also asks that under the pressure of evil God would set a watch before his mouth and keep the door of his lips. How needed that is! We may be true and right in principle on the Lord's side. Yet an impatient, boastful or accusing word spoils the testimony, gives the enemy something to use, and to that extent sets the soul wrong with God!

Notice here that when the saints (Rev. 5:8) act as priests, they add no incense at all. It is privilege enough to have such a place, but they can add nothing. The odours are the saints' own prayers on earth. Here (Rev. 8:3) the Angel-High Priest adds much incense to give efficacy to the cry of the saints.

Then he becomes aware of the holiness of the Presence he is seeking. That makes him think of the mouth he is addressing God with, and of his own weakness. So he prays to the LORD to set a guard before it, and to keep the door of his lips, so that nothing unfitting may come out.

Psalm 141 does look for deliverance, but it looks more for rightness of heart in trial. The desire is to be with God, near God, that God should draw near. The heart is with Him — is right with Him. He does not say "deliver" as his first desire. He says "give ear to my voice", asking that his prayer may be incense, and the lifting up of his hands like the evening sacrifice. He also seeks — and how much this is needed — that under the pressure of evil God would set a watch before his mouth and keep the door of his lips.

He was also concerned that God would keep his lips from careless failure. So he asked God to set a guard over his mouth, for he did not trust himself to do this.

Who then can control the tongue? "No man" can do it, but Christ can, and we only have to look to Him in simple faith. This means both a sense of our own complete helplessness and of His all-sufficiency… How often have we suffered the effects of some blunder of the tongue and resolved to command that unruly member a little better next time! But our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away, and we had only to go away and weep over our sad failure in self-control.

We may be true and right in principle on the Lord's side. But an impatient or pretentious and reproachful word spoils the testimony, gives the enemy something to use, and so far puts the soul wrong with God!

He left the "door of his lips" unguarded for only a moment (Psalm 141:3), and the burning words of passion flew out, never to be taken back. For a moment he was off his guard. For a moment he failed to watch. And his unruly, rebellious tongue spoke those unholy sentences that cost him his inheritance in the promised land.

If, however, his prayer is to be acceptable, he feels that certain moral conditions are necessary. First, a watch must be set on his words, so that nothing may be said that is inconsistent with the presence of the Lord. Second, his heart must be kept from every evil thing, and his hands from doing evil works. Third, he feels the deep need for separation from those who do wrong. These are the moral conditions that in every age enable godly people to lift up "holy hands" in prayer (1 Tim. 2:8).

"When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent." So let us not fail to ask the Lord to set a watch before our mouth, and to keep the door of our lips, as in Psalm 141:3. Our evil nature is too ready to watch our neighbour's mouth, to the shame of faith and love.

He was also concerned that his lips might fail him in an unguarded moment. So he asked God to set a guard over his mouth, because he did not trust himself to do it (v. 3). Deeper still, he is concerned that God would keep his heart from any leaning toward evil, and from doing wicked works with men who work iniquity. He is determined not to be identified with such men by eating with them the food they counted delicate and attractive (v. 4).

If his prayer is to be acceptable, he feels that certain moral conditions are necessary. First, a guard must be set on his words, so that he says nothing out of keeping with the presence of the Lord. Second, his heart must be kept from every evil thing, and his hands from doing evil works. Third, he feels the deep need to be separate from those who work iniquity. Such are the moral conditions that in every age enable the godly to lift up "holy hands" in prayer (1 Tim. 2:8).

Psalm 141 is a prayer that the believer may be kept watchful over his own heart and lips (3, 4). It also asks that he be kept safe from the traps set to catch him, because he cannot keep himself by his own strength (9, 10).

Psalm 141 does look for deliverance, but it looks even more for a right heart in the trial. The desire is to be near God, and that God should draw near. The heart is with Him, and right with Him. His first request is not "deliver me," but "give ear to my voice."

He also asks that nothing from outside may be allowed to lure him into evil practices with men who work what is worthless, or to share their delicacies — the "pleasant things" which can still appeal, sadly, to the old nature, even in a child of God.

Meditation is a strong antidote against sin. Sin puts a worm into the conscience, a sting into death, a fire into hell. If people thought this through — that after all their fine dishes, death will hand them the bill in hell — they would say, as David said in another sense, "let me not eat of their delicacies" (Ps. 141:4). The devil's apple has a bitter core.

The second psalm of the series shows us the separation of the righteous from the wicked. That separation is first the act of the righteous man himself. Then God carries it out in judgment. These are, in fact, the two divisions of the psalm.

The psalm continues for the soul's profit, so that all that is said and done may be to and in the favour of Jehovah, apart from the delicacies of evildoers, and accepting rebuke from the righteous. Then, when judgment falls, some may hear and live.

The psalmist wants God to keep him from the ways of evil men. Even so, he would not object to a righteous man striking him (v. 5). This was far better than the ungodly pampering him. Such faithfulness from a godly person really is kindness. A faithful rebuke is "oil for my head." A believer should always be open to correction for his wrongs. But only the righteous can give that correction properly. "Let my head not refuse it." If we have done wrong in any way, we should welcome a godly believer's faithfulness in pointing it out.

A lying tongue hates the people it injures. A flattering mouth ruins the speaker as well as the listener. "Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it." This is to humble oneself under God's mighty hand and be exalted in due time.

No point is more important than this for the upright. The one who can bridle his tongue is a perfect man. He wants nothing to draw him into the paths or the company of the wicked. What he wants is to stay upright. If he needs the blow of a righteous man, he will rejoice in it, as an excellent oil to anoint him, and will honour that man as a friend.

He had reproved them sharply, but with no injurious effect. His words struck like the blow of a righteous man, and they brought healing to the wounds they made (Ps. 141:5). Their momentary grief would also be their endless gain.

The rebuke was well meant and well deserved, but it was oil for the head, and it would not break their heads (Ps. 141:5). Now this light puts them on quite a different road. They were well-deserved and sharp rebukes. But again I say: let my mistakes put me in company with Jesus, rather than leave me out of His company altogether.

If we render it "for still also my prayer shall be in their calamities," this can hardly refer to the righteous ones just spoken of. It would seem a small thing to say that he would not stop praying for those he counts as doing him a kindness. So it seems better to render it "against their evil-doings." He must be speaking of the wicked, and he sets his prayer against their wickedness. All this shows a heart searched and tested before God. It completes the picture of the faithful man keeping himself apart from those who do evil.

Verse 5 presents a striking contrast to the portrait of the proud and evil doer in the preceding Psalm. Because it has truly learned self-knowledge, the heart of faith gives a ready and genuine welcome to words of just reproof. In this respect the verse is a bright warning mirror for "the man of God" in every age.

The godly man has learned how Jehovah governs. He asks Jehovah to keep his words and his thoughts, so that Jehovah may bless him. If Jehovah strikes him, he takes it as discipline. He looks for God to accept his prayers. And even in the judgment coming on the proud (Israel, I take it), he sees it as breaking them down so that they will hear His word. It is the kind of psalm David might have written when Saul was hunting him. He looks for judgment on the wicked, but he hopes the calamities will stop some of them.

Here again the verse is abrupt, and that creates difficulty. But one would naturally say that God's act was separating between two classes among the evil-doers themselves. Their judges were the leaders who were perverting the people, and their destruction would lead the rest, or many of them, to listen to the testimony of those they had previously turned away from. This fits the character of the psalm.

Verse 6 refers, I suppose, to the breaking in pieces of the nation of Israel and its heads. That had to come first, before their ears would be opened to hear the words of Jesus. The moral force of these expressions is striking and plain. Someone who seeks righteousness by way of law is a judge rather than a pleading confessor of sin. First the awakened conscience must feel the spiritual power of the law. Then what was once boasted of in vain as a spring of life becomes a rocky waste and a wilderness of death. Only then do the words of saving grace become precious to the ear of faith. More generally, this verse may also apply to the effect on people in the world at large when Jehovah's judgments come into the earth.

Verse 6 seems to make a difference between the wicked and their judges (or leaders). It points to a more violent judgment for the leaders. That leads the wicked at least to listen to the psalmist's words. His words are sweet compared with the words of leaders who had misled them.

Verse 6 may remind us of 1 Samuel 24 and 26. There the judges or heads of the people were as in stony places. They might have been broken and thrown down. Instead, they heard David's words of peace.

The psalmist's spirit has been humbled by discipline. So he can pray not only for his own deliverance, but also for his enemies in the calamities that will surely overtake them. He desires that his words may be acceptable to God (v. 2), and sweet even to his enemies.

In Psalm 141, he is looking for deliverance, and to be kept, heart and lips, and that his prayer may come before God. But he is still in great distress: "Our bones are scattered at the grave's mouth, as when one cuts and splits wood upon the earth." And then he cries to the LORD. He has gone through it all, and brings them back in practice until they get delivered.

It is no wonder that some of the ancient versions read "their bones are scattered at the mouth of Sheol." But it would not be safe to follow a correction so easily guessed at and so weakly supported. We must take it, then, as a figure, like Ezekiel's vision of the dry bones: a picture of life seemingly gone, and hope gone with it, except as faith could count on the God of resurrection.

In the same way, Ps. 141:7, "Our bones are scattered at the mouth of sheol," is made to assure us that "the bones of the dead are consigned in death to hades!" The psalmist plainly says they are outside.

Verse 7 returns to the feelings of the remnant of Israel, as the judgment of God is about to come to their rescue. They feel that their bones are scattered at the mouth of sheol. Of course this is not literal. But it seems to them that God is in effect plowing up their souls, like a farmer working the soil.

As it stands in the Hebrew, these words must refer to the condition of the nation, or of the persecuted remnant.

The psalmist is now living inside an established order of things, one in which Jehovah is acknowledged, but which is heading for judgment. In it the soul needs to walk closely with God in lowly grace, to be kept from sin and from the violence of persecutors. It is a system too which, however much faith may cling to it, is already ruined and scattered. (v. 7.)

From the outside, it would look as if the circumstances of the godly leave no hope at all. The godly would seem as lifeless as bones scattered at the mouth of the grave. In this extremity the psalmist finds his resource in God. Trusting in the Lord, he looks to be kept from the traps of the wicked, and he asks that, under the government of God, they may fall into their own nets.

Outwardly it would appear as if the circumstances of the godly are such that all hope is gone. The godly would appear to be as lifeless as bones scattered at the mouth of the grave. In this extremity the psalmist finds his resource in God.

So we must take it as a picture, like Ezekiel's vision of the dry bones: life looks gone, and hope gone with it — unless faith could count on the God of resurrection. And so the soul of the righteous turns to Jehovah as its refuge in this extreme moment, and prays to be rescued from the trap of the wicked.

They are wide awake to the danger of temptation and to its power. The fear that surrounds them on every side is close enough to make them tremble. And the strain of their suffering drives them deeper into the secret places of communion with God. They turn to their stronghold as prisoners of hope.

This psalm looks closer. It enters into the position of the righteous One among the people: He is thrown entirely on the Lord to keep Him righteous, so that He may have no part with the wicked. All He wants is righteousness. He asks to be kept from the delicacies of the wicked. They had laid snares all around Him, but He was turning Himself to God and wanting one thing only — practical acceptance with Him, Jehovah. And so He looks to Him only. What an instructive lesson!

Again we find that his heart is set on the nearness of his soul to God: "leave not my soul destitute." That is a sure mark of a renewed heart. So the thief on the cross does not even think about his own sufferings. He asks Christ to remember him in His kingdom. It is a full picture of an upright heart in a soul that had gone away from God, is now morally restored, and is still under trial.

For to you, Jehovah Lord, are my eyes; in you I trust: pour not out my soul.

There is an answer, and the psalmist knows where his eyes should be. He takes refuge in the Lord God, who will certainly not leave him destitute (v. 8). God alone will keep him from the snares the wicked have laid for him, and from the traps of those who do evil. And God completes the separation by making them fall into their own nets, while the godly escape safely (v. 10), now completely separated from the ungodly.

(vv. 7-10) Outwardly it would seem that all hope is gone for the godly. They would appear as lifeless as bones scattered at the mouth of the grave. In this extremity the psalmist finds his resource in God. Trusting in the Lord, he looks to God to keep him from the snares of the wicked. At the same time he asks that, under God's government, the wicked may fall into their own nets.

However, there is an answer. The psalmist knows where his eyes should be: he takes refuge in the Lord God, who will certainly not leave him destitute (v. 8). It is God only who will keep him from the snares laid for him by the wicked, and from the traps of the workers of iniquity. And God completes the separation. He makes them fall into their own nets, while the godly escape safely (v. 10), fully separated from the ungodly.

This Psalm looks more closely at the position of the righteous One among the people. He casts Himself entirely on the Lord to keep righteousness, so that He may have no part with the wicked. All He wants is righteousness, and He asks to be kept from the delicacies of the wicked. They had laid snares around Him, but He was turning to God and desiring this only — practical acceptance with Him, Jehovah. To Him only, therefore, He looks. Instructive lesson!

Psalm 141 does look for deliverance, but more for rightness of heart in trial. The desire is to be near God, and that God should draw near. The heart is with Him, and right with Him. He does not say "deliver" as his first desire, but "give ear to my voice." He asks that his prayer may be incense, and the lifting up of his hands the evening sacrifice. He asks too that under the pressure of evil God would set a watch before his mouth and keep the door of his lips. How needed that is! We may be true and right in principle on the Lord's side. But an impatient or boastful or insulting word spoils the testimony! It gives a handle to the enemy, and so far sets the soul wrong with God.

This is a beautiful example of the path of the just in the hour of severe and seemingly hopeless trial. They are wide awake to the danger and the power of temptation. They tremble at the sight of the fear that surrounds them on every side. Yet the stress of their affliction drives them deeper into the secret places of communion with God. They turn to their stronghold as prisoners of hope.

Far be it from me to say that the Psalms are not right. It was what marked the saints in Israel of old. It will mark them again when the former dominion returns still more gloriously in the day of the Lord. But we, called out meanwhile from Jews and Gentiles, have a privilege and a duty: to show the grace of Him who suffered for us. He left us an example, that we should follow His steps.

Only God will keep him from the snares the wicked lay for him, and from the traps of those who do evil. And God completes the separation by causing them to fall into their own nets, while the godly escape safely (v. 10), now completely separated from the ungodly.

Several different words are translated 'net.' Some mean large nets, others the drag net. As a symbol, nets stand for devices laid in secret — otherwise people would avoid them, just as a bird avoids a net spread out where it can see it… Satan and the wicked also prepare their nets and snares.

Verses 7-10 give a very touching picture of the moral condition of these severely tested sufferers, whose bones become a memorial of the ruthless rage and power of the enemy. Thoroughly sifted and made contrite in heart by the gracious work of the Spirit of God, they walk softly before Him as those who are poor and broken in spirit, while they still hold to Jehovah in unshaken faith, confidently expecting His help.

On the surface it would look as if the situation of the godly is hopeless… In this extremity the psalmist finds his resource in God. Trusting in the Lord, he looks to be kept from the snares of the wicked, while he asks that, under the government of God, they may fall into their own nets.

Now he brings his plea for their destruction. First, there is the causelessness of their plots against him, and their net hidden carefully in the pit he is meant to fall into. Then it will only serve to let their own trap catch them. They will be the cause of their own destruction, and surely no one will be to blame for it but themselves… The righteous and the wicked, God and man His creature, will all be in their right place.

They had laid snares all around him. But he was fastening himself to God, wanting only this practical acceptance with Him, Jehovah, and so he looks to Him alone — an instructive lesson… The individual believers would still escape on earth, for the question was now an earthly one, while the wicked would fall into their own nets. Look at David in the time of Saul, and there is much there to guide you.

So the atmosphere all through is earthly judicial righteousness, not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel and pray, to worship and walk.

The language of this psalm is certainly not the language Christians today are expected to use. We have the privilege of living in the day of grace. So we may rightly prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), or those of Stephen when he was killed for his faith, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (Acts 7:60).

"And David departed from there, and escaped to the cave of Adullam" (v. 1). That is where he wrote the beautiful Psalm 142. It puts into words the feelings that filled his soul while he was alone... But it was exactly because every human refuge failed him that David found a sure refuge for his soul: "I cry to you, O LORD; I say, 'You are my refuge.'" ... Could David ever regret being brought so low and left by everyone? It was there that his soul came to know and value the sovereign refuge found in God.

"An instruction of David when he was in the cave: a prayer." Here is a teaching word, and a prayer too. Wickedness in power casts the righteous on Jehovah alone. How often precious, and proved by how many!

Psalm 142 is the expression of extreme distress, refuge failing him — no man caring for his soul. He cried to Jehovah with his voice. This, as we have seen, is more than trusting Him... crying out with the voice confesses His name and openly admits that we depend on the Lord and trust Him. The heart can open itself out before the Lord, not be anxious, but make its requests known. It is a sure sign of confidence, making our trouble known — a great thing to leave such things with God.

There is a special character belonging to Psalm 142: "I cried to the LORD with my voice." Not only was his heart groaning, but he expresses himself openly to God.

This psalm is all prayer, voiced by David when in the cave, hiding from enemies. There are many such prayers in the psalms. Spiritual enemies threaten believers on many occasions. And it is certainly wise to bring our plea to God (v. 1). If we have any reason to complain, let us pour that complaint out before the Lord, not before others who can do nothing about it anyway (v. 2).

Among men he found no helper, no one who would admit to knowing him. Refuge was cut off unless he found it in Jehovah: no one else cared at all. A terrible place to be in, if Jehovah were not his hiding place! But if He were not, then even if every arm reached out to help him, it would all be useless! God — how easily in our insane folly we think to do without Him, who is the one necessity for all His creatures. But such discoveries are the great moments for the soul, when it turns to God as now to be its all.

In Psalm 141 we see the righteous separated from the wicked, praying that God will keep them. Psalm 142 carries on that prayer for deliverance. The psalmist lifts up his voice to the Lord. Before Him he poured out his complaint and before Him he showed his trouble; not before man, but before the Lord... The godly remnant will go through all these same trials and troubles. All God's people have passed, and are still passing, through similar struggles of soul.

This psalm is all prayer, voiced by David when in the cave, hiding from enemies. The psalms hold many such prayers, because spiritual enemies threaten believers again and again. And it is certainly wise to bring our request to God (v. 1). If we have any reason to complain, let us pour that complaint out before the Lord, not before others who can do nothing about it anyway (v. 2).

I pour out in His presence my plaint; my distress in His presence I show.

At once the psalmist emphatically states that it is to Jehovah that he cries: before Him he declares his strait, as if there were no other. He can appeal with confidence to One who has known all about him, and in circumstances of deepest distress.

Psalm 142 is the expression of extreme distress, refuge failing him — no man caring for his soul. He cried to Jehovah with his voice. This, as we have seen, is more than trusting Him... in crying with the voice there is confession of His name, and an open admission that he depends on the Lord and trusts Him. The heart can open itself out before the Lord. It need not be anxious; it can make its requests known. Making our trouble known is a sure sign of confidence — and a great thing to leave it with God.

But it is most instructive to notice that relief comes as soon as he lays the burden of his complaint down before the Lord. Souls who have been through trial will understand this. They know the heart finds ease and strength the moment they pour the sorrow out into the ear of God. (See Philippians 4:6-7.)

"Pour out your heart before Him," says the Psalmist. "Do not be anxious about anything," adds the apostle, "but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." In these very requests, what a crowd of things unworthy of Him! But He already knew them in the heart, and He would have us pour them out in His presence — and what relief the heart gets that way! How many of these workings of unbelief the psalms give us! Yet they are poured out before God, and the soul grows quiet in that blessed presence as it can nowhere else.

But David found, precisely because all human refuge failed him, a sure refuge for his soul: "I cried to You, Jehovah, I said, You are my refuge" (Ps. 142:5). He could count on the God of Israel for deliverance from his persecutors, for they were stronger than he (v. 6). Could David ever regret being brought so low, abandoned by all? It was there that his soul came to know and value the sovereign refuge found in God.

Psalm 57 was written by David when he fled to the cave. And when he was in the cave he prayed. This prayer is embodied in Psalm 142. It was answered too when the Lord sent to him the 400 men.

Here we find the loneliness of Christ, and so of His Spirit in the remnant. But Jehovah was the refuge in loneliness, and where all men failed, He did not... Look at Paul — "no one came to stand by me... But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me."

"And David departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam" (v. 1). That is where he composed the beautiful 142nd Psalm, which expresses the feelings filling his soul in his solitude. "There is no man that knows me: refuge has failed me; no man cares for my soul" (v. 4). "In the way in which I walked they have hidden a snare for me" (v. 3). He wrote this when — what mockery — Saul had the audacity to accuse him, saying: "My son has stirred up my servant as a lier-in-wait against me" (1 Sam. 22:8).

Though grief overwhelms his spirit, his confidence is that the Lord knows every detail of his path. Everything that follows in his prayer flows from this confidence that the Lord knows it all.

In his path the enemy has hidden snares for his feet; but nothing is hidden from the Lord who knows his path. There is no man that "knows" him, but the Lord knows.

There was also the testimony of his conscience as to his path. He had followed no human judgment. He had obeyed the Lord, and to Him he could appeal as to that path — "When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, You knew my path" (Ps. 142). So he could walk with God where there was nothing to trap him.

He can appeal with confidence to One who has known all about him, even in the deepest distress. His spirit is overwhelmed. The enemy has hidden a snare for him in the path — the very path in which, as is implied, he had walked before Him (compare Ps. 1:6).

There is another comfort here; he was in the path of God. From this grew a sense that matters greatly in times of trial: God knew the faithful man's path, acknowledged it, and had His eye on it, accepting it. This is a fountain of strength and comfort. It requires faith — knowing that your way pleases God is enough. Hostility and desertion may overwhelm the spirit, but the soul is at peace, resting in God's approval.

There is not a trial, so small that you might be ashamed to mention it to anyone, that you cannot pour out into His sympathetic ear. He was tried as we are — for that is what has given Him capacity to be a merciful High Priest! He has passed through our experiences. He is not merely One who has divine knowledge of our path — God has that: "When my spirit was overwhelmed within me," says the psalmist, "then You knew my path." God knows the path of His people. He knew the sorrows of Israel down in Egypt. But with our blessed Lord it is more than divine knowledge of His people's sorrows and needs; it is divine experience of those sorrows and needs.

Here we find the loneliness of Christ and so of His Spirit in the remnant; but Jehovah was the refuge in loneliness. The Spirit of the Righteous and Holy One was overwhelmed. But Jehovah knew His path, terrible, troubled, and trying as it was; and no man would know Him. Look at Paul — "no man stood by me; but the Lord stood by me, and strengthened me."

"And David departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam" (v. 1). That is where he composed the beautiful 142nd Psalm. It expresses the feelings filling his soul in his solitude... He wrote it when — what mockery — Saul had the audacity to accuse him, saying: "My son has stirred up my servant as a lier-in-wait against me" (1 Sam. 22:8). But David found, precisely because all human refuge failed him, a sure refuge for his soul.

Man has failed to help — not only in power, but in heart. Among men he found no helper, none who would own acquaintance with him. Refuge was cut off unless he found it in the LORD: no one else cared at all. A terrible place to be in — if the LORD were not His hiding-place! But if He were not, though every arm were stretched out to help him, how useless it would all be!

In his path there are snares for his feet hidden by the enemy; but nothing is hidden from the Lord who knows his path. There is no man that "knows" him, but the Lord knows. Every earthly refuge fails him, and no one cares for his soul. Man misunderstands him, casts him out and neglects him. So he turns to the Lord. In Him he finds a refuge from every trial, and the source of every blessing — his "portion in the land of the living."

Could David ever regret being found at such an extremity, abandoned by all, since it was there that his soul knew and appreciated the sovereign refuge that is found in God?

And in the middle of all this outrage, cruelty, anguish and suffering, was there no human heart to pity or sympathise? No... But what of Peter, who really in his heart loved Jesus; Peter, who sincerely thought and said he would die for Jesus? What was he doing when Jesus was blindfolded and cruelly struck?... he was denying Jesus, with cursing and swearing. Can we ask for a greater proof that we cannot trust in ourselves, or our love, or our promises?

The daughters of Jerusalem might weep for Jesus when they saw Him lifted up on the cross of shameful death (Luke 23:27-28)... But His sorrow none might feel or know but God. No man knew Him whom all forsook, that the Scriptures might be fulfilled. Only His destroyers sought His soul. Refuge failed the victim whom God had foreordained to die (verse 4).

Here we find the loneliness of Christ, and, as a result, of His Spirit in the remnant. But the LORD was the refuge in that loneliness. Where everything human failed, He did not... So are the saints always tried; look at Paul, "No man stood by me; but the Lord stood by me and strengthened me."

"Because He Himself has suffered when tempted, He is able to help those who are tempted." The tempted — so there is One on high who takes a special interest in them. He is ready to help them all. No one can say, No one cares for me. Anyone who cries out with the psalmist, "no refuge remains to me; no one cares for my soul," must say with the psalmist, as they think of the Lord, "You are my refuge" (Psalm 142:4-5).

That is where he wrote the beautiful 142nd Psalm. It expresses the feelings that filled his soul while he was alone. "There is no man that knows me: refuge has failed me; no man cares for my soul" (v. 4)... But David found, precisely because all human refuge failed him, a sure refuge for his soul: "I cry to you, O LORD; I say, 'You are my refuge'" (Ps. 142:5). Could David ever regret being brought so low, left by everyone? It was there that his soul came to know and value the sovereign refuge found in God.

There is a special character belonging to Psalm 142: "I cry to the LORD with my voice." Not only was his heart groaning, but he expresses himself openly to God.

He had no refuge unless he found it in Jehovah: no one else cared at all. A terrible place to be in, if Jehovah were not his hiding-place! But if He were not, then even if every human hand reached out to help him, it would all be useless! God — how easily in our insane folly we think to do without Him, who is the one necessity for all His creatures. But such discoveries are the grand moments for the soul, when it turns to God as now to be its all.

These two things go together, and nothing can part them: He cannot satisfy us in the one way unless He satisfies us in the other. They are only two sides of one need we have fallen into. We have fallen away from Him, so we are homeless and starving, away from the Father's house. To get back there is to find the one need met as surely as the other.

Not only does God protect him, but God Himself is the satisfying portion of his life. He really needs nothing else... As he says, "They are stronger than I," but what actual difference does this make when God is his portion?

The land he looks for he calls by two beautiful titles — "the land of the living" and "the land of uprightness" (Ps. 142:5; Ps. 143:6, 10). These are happy, honourable titles of God's place and kingdom in Judea, as it will be by and by. In God's reckoning, righteousness (uprightness) and life always go together, and so do sin and death.

And "in the land of the living"! For death itself does not enter the Father's house: "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living." Even the way with Him is a "way everlasting." The life we already live is "everlasting life." The psalmist could not know these things as we do. So the truth he spoke was only fuller than he knew.

Verse 5 expresses the unshaken trust of Jesus when within the immediate reach of the power of darkness. Jehovah was His refuge: "You are my portion in the land of the living." Death might come in between. But it was a death by which He would make both life and death for evermore His own.

"For in that He Himself has suffered being tempted, He is able to help those who are tempted." The tempted — so there is One on high who takes a special interest in them, and is ready to help every one of them. No one can say, "No one cares for me." The psalmist cried, "Refuge failed me, no man cared for my soul." Anyone who says that must do what he did: think of the Lord and say, "You are my refuge" (Psalm 142:4-5).

That is where he composed the beautiful 142nd Psalm. It expresses the feelings filling his soul in his loneliness. ... But David found a sure refuge for his soul, and he found it precisely because all human refuge had failed him. He could count on the God of Israel to deliver him from his persecutors, for they were stronger than he. Could David ever regret being brought to such an extreme, abandoned by all? It was there that his soul knew and valued the sovereign refuge that is found in God.

He has spread his trouble before the Lord. Now he looks for an answer to his cry, and for deliverance from his persecutors. He takes the place where God can meet a needy soul. He owns that he is "brought very low," and that his enemies are "too strong" for him.

Not only does God protect him, but God Himself is the satisfying portion of his life. He really needs nothing else. Since this is so, he can only expect God to attend to his cry when strong persecutors bring him low. As he says, "they are too strong for me," but what actual difference does this make when God is his portion?

So he cries to God, the one Helper, out of the depth, brought low by enemies too strong for him, left to them unless God steps in. God must be the Overcomer for him. So he is shut up, yet he is a prisoner of hope. He looks to Him with an expectation that brightens into perfect assurance. He sees himself among a company of righteous ones, gathered with him by the same grace that gathered him. Together they give thanks to the glorious Name of his generous Redeemer.

"An instruction of David when he was in the cave: a prayer." Here is a teaching word, and a prayer too. Wickedness in power casts the righteous on the Lord alone. How often this has been precious, and proved by how many! Yet, while it was originally David's faith, it will apply fully in the future crisis of Israel.

Here we find the loneliness of Christ, and, as a result, of His Spirit in the remnant. But the Lord was the refuge in loneliness, and where everything human failed, He did not... So the saints are always tried; look at Paul: "No man stood by me; but the Lord stood by me and strengthened me." ... So this is desertion, while His persecutors, stronger than He, pressed on Him.

In the cave of Adullam he had reached his lowest condition, and verses 4-7 of the psalm express that. But he came out of the stronghold with God's prophet and God's priest on his side. From that time his fortunes began to rise, until they reached their height when he sat on the throne.

In the cave of Adullam he had reached his lowest condition (1 Samuel 22), and verses 4-7 of the Psalm express that. But he came out of the stronghold with God's prophet and God's priest on his side. From that time his fortunes began to rise, until they reached their height when he sat on the throne. This was his prayer and his expectation. We know he was not disappointed, though his trials were not yet over.

Being brought out of trouble, he will be free to praise the Name of the Lord in company with the righteous. He has poured out his grief before the Lord in this way. Now he comes to know that the Lord will deal bountifully with him.

The distress he suffered is a picture of the deep trial of the godly remnant of Israel in the time of the great tribulation. They feel that trial as the bondage of imprisonment. We know that the God of all grace will fully answer their prayer to be brought out (v. 7). Before the deliverance, enemies surrounded him. What a change to have the righteous around him!

So he is shut in, yet he is a prisoner of hope. He looks to God with an expectation that brightens into perfect assurance. He sees himself among a company of righteous ones. The same grace that reached him has gathered them with him, to give thanks to the glorious Name of his bountiful Redeemer.

But David found, precisely because all human refuge failed him, a sure refuge for his soul... Could David ever regret being brought so low, abandoned by all? It was there that his soul knew and valued the sovereign refuge found in God. So the psalm ends with the assurance that filled his soul. His time of loneliness and of being forsaken would come to an end.

Here we find the loneliness of Christ, and so of His Spirit in the remnant. But Jehovah was the refuge in that loneliness. Where everything human failed, He did not... Look at Paul — "no one stood by me; but the Lord stood by me and strengthened me." ... But when His faithfulness was proved, the righteous would surround Him.

Psalm 142 is a resurrection-psalm. It is to be understood first of the Messiah, but also of those for whom He went down to death. The writer says he is confident of this. No one "sought after his soul," yet the Lord would be his portion in the land of the living, and would bring his soul out of prison.

The psalmist appeals to the Lord to hear his prayer and to act for him in faithfulness and righteousness. At the same time he confesses that he cannot stand before God on the ground of his own righteousness.

He pleads with the Lord to give attention to his situation. He does not want any recognition of his own rights. He depends on God's faithfulness to answer him (v. 1). He links this with God's righteousness — not with God's judgment of his own condition, but of his enemies' attitude toward him and toward God. In fact, he knew that if God made an issue of David's faults, there would be no hope for him. Nor would there be hope for anyone living in that position of judgment, for no one could be called righteous.

This is the plea of righteousness in the mouth of faith. Faith owns that none is righteous except God alone. Yet, knowing how little he deserves, the man of faith dares to say, "In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness." The Cross makes this simple for us now. The Old Testament believer could not see it, except dimly through the shadows of the sacrifices.

We do come near to the apostle's teaching, but only from the negative side: no one among men can be justified before God in judgment. So the righteousness they can appeal to is Jehovah's faithfulness to His covenant and to His name.

Psalm 143 cries above all for mercy and goodness. While the enemy persecutes him and the pressure on the godly continues, he asks that Jehovah would not enter into judgment with him, but show His lovingkindness. As the servant of Jehovah, he begs to be taught and guided.

In the psalm, David cries, "Hear my prayer, O LORD; give ear to my pleas for mercy! In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness!" The ground of his appeal is the faithfulness and righteousness of God. That was right in his case, since it was a question of God's government on the earth, His righteous government. No Christian in similar circumstances could be led by the Spirit to take this ground in his prayers. We come boldly to the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace to help in time of need. Yet when we come to the letter of John, we find the very words the psalmist used here: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

When we read in the next chapter, "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins," then we understand this: God is faithful and righteous in forgiving the sins of His people when they confess. He does this in view of what Christ is in His presence and by virtue of His work.

What does the psalmist say? Give your servant a favourable judgment? No: "Enter not into judgment with your servant, for in your sight shall no man living be justified." Many people hope that all will be well with them in the judgment. They take the name of Christ on their lips, and think they will get to heaven as safely as real believers.

The common thought is, "we shall have to come into judgment, but we hope not to be condemned." The Scripture truth is, if such as we are at our best came into judgment, we could not but be condemned.

Even in the Old Testament, which gives very little light on the judgment of the dead compared with the New Testament, we hear the psalmist pray this. So we are taught that if not merely a careless sinner but "Your servant" (a saint, of course) has the Lord entering into judgment with him, not even he nor any man living can be justified. For judgment must not evade the facts, nor excuse the sins, and no mere man has ever lived without sins.

We do come close to what the apostle Paul teaches, though only from the negative side: no one among men can be justified before God in judgment. So the righteousness they can appeal to is the Lord's faithfulness to His covenant and to His Name.

The grand doctrine of Christianity is that I am saved by a mediator. If I have to answer for myself, I am lost: "Enter not into judgment with your servant." If God enters into judgment with me, all is over with me. The whole doctrine of grace is, saved by a mediator... My coming to God depends on someone coming between.

Then, in Psalm 143, it is not loneliness in trial but judgment that is the question... Trials existed — his life was crushed to the ground, his spirit was overwhelmed within him, and his heart was desolate; but no man could face judgment. No flesh living should be justified... On the cross the Lord did enter into judgment in Israel's place, and that is just what makes all the rest true for them.

We shall each give an account, and this about ourselves and no one else... The believer does not come into judgment, but will be openly seen at God's judgment seat and give account. When those who do not believe give account, it is judgment for them, and that must mean condemnation. They confess no Saviour, so they can no longer hide their sins. What David prayed against by the Spirit (Psalm 143:2), we are assured by our Lord Jesus will not be our lot.

(vv. 3-6) The next verses present the sorrowful circumstances that call forth the prayer. The enemy persecutes the godly man. His life is crushed, his way is dark, and he himself is forgotten as one long dead.

Of course, the enemy will take every advantage of the failure of a believer to accuse and vilify him. But the enemy's attacks are far more sinful than a believer's failures through weakness. For Satan is given over to determined, willful opposition to the truth of God and to the blessing of mankind... No doubt the psalmist has in mind how he feels because of the enemy's persecution — his life crushed to the ground, and living in darkness like those who have long been dead (v. 3). Of course this was not literal. He felt overwhelmed in his spirit (v. 4), and distressed in his heart.

This persecution by the enemy may indeed be the chastening of the Lord. God allows him to fall into darkness and desolation of soul, so that he may learn that no effort of his own can justify him. He is shut up to God and His righteousness. So at last he stretches out his hands to the Lord as his only hope.

Then, in Psalm 143, the question is not loneliness in trial, but judgment — that the Lord might be with him. This is a matter between his soul and God. The trials were real. His life was struck down to the ground, his spirit was overwhelmed within him, and his heart was desolate. But no man could meet judgment. No one living could be justified... On the cross the Lord did enter into judgment, in the place of others. That is just what makes all the rest true for Israel, and it comes to them only as purging.

In Psalm 143 the enemy is mentioned again, the enemy who pursued David... How this again reminds us of the death experience of the pious remnant when the man of sin, the Antichrist will rule in Israel's land. Prayer for deliverance follows.

We have the cry for deliverance — "Answer me quickly, O Lord; my spirit fails; do not hide Your face from me, for I have become like those who go down to the pit"... And then we have the confident expectation — "For Your name's sake, O Lord, You will revive me; in Your righteousness You will bring my soul out of distress."

No doubt the psalmist is thinking mainly about how he feels because of the enemy's persecution. His life is crushed to the ground, and he dwells in darkness like those who have long been dead (v. 3). Of course, this was not literal. He felt overwhelmed in his spirit (v. 4), being distressed in his heart.

Some of these feelings are ascribed to the spirit in Scripture, some to the soul, some to both soul and spirit. So the spirit is troubled (Gen. 41:8; Job 21:4; Dan. 2:1), is in anguish (Ex. 6:9; Job 7:11), is sorrowful (1 Sam. 1:15; 1 Kings 21:5), is contrite or humble... is broken (Ps. 51:17, 19; Prov. 15:13), is overwhelmed (Ps. 142:3; 143:4), is wounded (Prov. 18:14), is grieved (Dan. 7:15; Isa. 54:6).

The inward effect is that his spirit is overwhelmed, and his heart desolate. He remembers the days of old, and meditates on all God's works, but finds no relief for his soul. This persecution by the enemy may indeed be the chastening of the Lord. He lets him fall into darkness and desolation of soul, so that he may learn one thing: by no efforts of his own can he be justified. He is shut up to God and His righteousness. So at last he stretches out his hands to the Lord as his only hope.

Here we have the plough that God has used with them, to bring them into the exercises which in the end will be so fruitful... The psalmist speaks as one among those who dwell in darkness — even those long dead. But he is not indifferent. His spirit is overwhelmed and his heart desolate. Yet he carries with him the memory of days of old, when God had clearly worked, and his soul cried out for Him as a thirsty land cries for rain.

In Psalm 143 it is not loneliness in trial, but judgment, that is the question... Trials existed. His life was struck down to the ground, his spirit overwhelmed within him, his heart desolate. But judgment could not be met by man. No living person could be justified. This is indeed just what we have learned by the Holy One entering into it. He showed this very necessity for all.

Here then he takes refuge. There is for him no other hope. If the Lord hid His face, he would be like one of those going down to the pit. But as one who trusted in Him, he prayed to see His loving-kindness early, and to learn the way in which to walk. In the Lord he hid himself, and asked to be taught the will of Him who was his God. The spirit of faith and the spirit of obedience always go together.

Here the psalmist speaks as one among the dwellers in darkness — even those long dead. But he is not indifferent. His spirit is overwhelmed and his heart desolate. Still, he carries with him the memory of days of old, when God had clearly worked, and his soul cried out for Him as a thirsty land cries for rain.

"I remember the days of old" (v. 5) — of course days when he was not so oppressed and the works of the Lord in goodness toward him were evident. At least he could meditate on these, which were an encouragement even in his trial. So he lifted his hands to God for guidance. His circumstances were like a dried-up wilderness, so that his soul thirsted for God.

He remembers the days of old and meditates on all God's works, but finds no relief for his soul. This persecution by the enemy may indeed be the chastening of the Lord. The Lord lets him fall into darkness and desolation of soul, so that he may learn one thing: no effort of his own can justify him. He is shut up to God and His righteousness. So at length he stretches out his hands to the Lord as his only hope.

Even the "wonders of old" are only, so to speak, visible signs and tokens. They point to a way of working that everywhere carries the stamp of the same Author. Indeed, that is what gives them their main charm and interest. Oh for eyes with nothing clouding them! We shall have them one day. But we must not be so content with that promise that we push away the chance we have now to learn such glorious things.

Meditation is an excellent way to profit from the word. Reading may bring a truth into the head; meditation brings it into the heart. It is better to meditate on one sermon than to hear five. There is a disease in children called rickets. Their heads are large, but their lower parts are small and do not thrive. I fear many professing Christians have the spiritual rickets. They have great heads and much knowledge, but they do not grow in godliness. Their heart is faint and their feet feeble; they do not walk with strength in the ways of God. And the cause of this disease is the lack of meditation.

Meditation prepares us for prayer. Meditation first supplies matter to pray with, and then supplies a heart to pray. "I ponder the work of your hands; I stretch out my hands to you" (Ps. 143:5-6; older translations read "I muse on the work of Your hands"). The musing of his head made way for the stretching out of his hands in prayer. Prayer is the child of meditation: meditation leads the way, and prayer brings up the rear.

Meditation prepares us for prayer. Meditation first supplies matter to pray about, and then supplies a heart to pray with. "I ponder the work of Your hands; I stretch out my hands to You" (Psalm 143:5-6). The pondering of his head made way for the stretching out of his hands in prayer. Prayer is the child of meditation: meditation leads the front, and prayer brings up the rear.

He remembers the days of old, and meditates on all God's works, but finds no relief for his soul. This persecution by the enemy may indeed be the chastening of the Lord. He lets him fall into darkness and desolation of soul, so that he may learn one thing: no effort of his own can make him righteous before God. He is shut up to God and His righteousness. So at last he stretches out his hands to the Lord as his only hope.

This is the plow God has used with them, to bring them into exercises of soul that will be fruitful in the end. As in Psalm 141 we heard them crying as from the mouth of Sheol, so here the psalmist speaks as one among those who dwell in darkness — even those long dead. But he is not indifferent. His spirit is overwhelmed and his heart desolate. Yet he still carries the remembrance of days of old, when God had plainly worked. And his soul cried out for Him as a thirsty land cries for rain.

"I remember the days of old" (v. 5) — days, of course, when he was not so oppressed and the works of the Lord in goodness toward him were plain to see. At least he could meditate on these, which were an encouragement even in his trial. So he lifted his hands to God for leading. His circumstances were like a dried-up wilderness, so that his soul thirsted for God.

The land where this afflicted one now toils, in so much conscious grief and hostility from the wicked, he calls a "thirsty land." But the land he looks for he calls by two beautiful titles — "the land of the living," and "the land of uprightness." (Psalm 142:5; Psalm 143:6, 10) These are happy, honourable titles for God's place and kingdom in Judea, as it will be by and by. In God's reckoning, righteousness (uprightness) and life are always found together, as are sin and death.

God Himself was enough for the soul that sought Him and thirsted for Him in the dry and thirsty land. There was not the smallest refreshment there — nothing that life could find its object in and refresh itself by. And so, because His loving-kindness was better than life, that soul could always praise. It was satisfied as with the richest food while it lived. Though there was nothing for life, it could praise still. Nothing separated it from God's love: the thirsty land only threw it more completely onto its proper portion.

Because his spirit fails, he pleads with God to answer him quickly (v. 7). He clearly felt that God was hiding His face from him, and he did not want to be like those who go down to the pit. But we know that God was not hiding His face from him. He was testing him by delaying the answer.

The latter part of the psalm presents his prayer. He longs with all his heart for the favour of the Lord's face, because without it he is as one dead.

Here then he takes refuge. There is for him no other hope. If Jehovah hid His face, he would be like one of those going down to the pit.

This persecution by the enemy may in fact be the Lord's discipline. He lets him fall into darkness and desolation of soul so that he may learn one thing: no effort of his own can justify him. He is shut in to God and His righteousness. So at last he stretches out his hands to the Lord as his only hope.

In Psalm 143 the question is not being alone in trial, but judgment — that Jehovah might be with him. This is between his soul and God. The trials were real: his life was struck down to the ground, his spirit was overwhelmed inside him, and his heart was desolate. But no man could meet judgment. No living person could be justified... The cry rests on God's faithfulness and righteousness — not on any of their own, as far as the servant's condition goes.

We go through this when we have suffered from spiteful enemies, but through our own fault. A heart that is true with God is first fully humbled and set right. It accepts the punishment of its sin instead of making excuses. Then it can look to God to take up its cause against the malice — but not until it has set God's glory above itself. The soul then holds on to the enjoyment of God's loving-kindness with a humbled, softened spirit. God purifies its motives, and that is the whole aim of the discipline: not just its ways, but its motives, and so its power of communion, which is tied directly to our motives and the state of our heart.

Most of us, at some time or other, feel that things are getting on top of us. If only we could hide somewhere until the problems are solved, or until we have the courage to face our responsibilities again! David knew this feeling only too well. Saul hunted him down. Later his own rebellious son drove him from his throne. At such times we find David longing for a place where he could hide for a while and get his spirit back. He was brave enough to kill a lion and a bear while he tended his father's sheep. Yet even this brave man had moments when he longed for a hiding place until the disasters had passed.

(vv. 7-10) The latter part of the psalm presents his prayer. He longs with his whole heart for the favour of the Lord's face, for without that favour he is as one dead. He wants to know the way the Lord would have him walk. He asks the Lord to deliver him from his enemies, to teach him God's will, and to lead him into the land of uprightness.

Happily David had learnt where to find the true hiding place. In Psalm 17, for example, he pleads with God: "Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings" (verse 8). There were enemies surrounding him, but he had found One who was able to shelter him, as the mother bird hides her chicks under her wing.

The simple refuge of the saint is in God. "God is my defence." It is not scheming back at the enemy, nor using human means to meet his power. We may succeed that way in part, and for a time. But by using human weapons we have lost the dependence that calls God in, and the perfection of walk and testimony that waiting on Him gives.

This psalm is deeper still. Not only is there no one but the Lord; self is given up as well. No righteousness can stand judgment, but here is the righteousness of God by faith. Confidence is in grace.

God will fully answer verse 9 when Israel cries to Him at the end of the tribulation period. God will indeed be a shelter.

He who is the Father's delight — the One on whom He always looks with perfect pleasure — is every believer's hiding place; He is your hiding place. There you are sheltered from every storm in this life; and there too, as behind an unbreakable shield, you are safe for ever. No enemy can ever break through your sure defence. They may threaten, but can do no more. Only watch, and never wander from your hiding place. Your only security is to keep behind the shield. You have everything there.

Relationship with God cannot be separated from submitting to His will. "This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments." And the Lord said, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." We have received His boundless grace, yet we may not ignore His authority… And the new nature born of God within us moves us to cry with the psalmist, "Teach me to do your will, O God."

The Psalmist speaks of a devout and converted man who felt the holiness of God. This man prays, "Enter not into judgment with your servant." He says, "My soul thirsts for you as a thirsty land." He asks, "Teach me to do your will; for you are my God." In short, the whole psalm shows that the divine life was clearly there.

First of all, there must be a willing mind. The Lord Himself said so: "If anyone's will is to do God's will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority." The teachable spirit comes to the Scriptures with the psalmist's prayer, "Teach me to do your will," and finds instruction… First comes the hearing, then the doing.

There is one problem: we have wills of our own, and we trust them far too much. How we need God's help to do His will! In principle, all true believers have submitted to God's will, but the details of daily life are another matter. His Spirit is good, so we can depend on Him, though our own spirits can deceive us all too easily.

When David asked God to teach him to do His will, he went straight on to ask God's good Spirit to lead him. He could not have asked for better guidance than that. Learning God's will is one thing; doing it is quite another… It means setting your own will aside and following God's will with the Spirit's help and guidance.

This suffering man is now toiling in much grief, with the wicked against him. He calls that place a "thirsty land." But the land he looks for he calls by two beautiful titles — "the land of the living" and "the land of uprightness." These are happy, honourable titles for God's place and kingdom in the land of Judea, as it will be in the future. In God's reckoning, righteousness (uprightness) and life always go together, as do sin and death.

They no longer rely on the flesh but on the Spirit. They want God's will, but they no longer feel able to carry it out by their own power. They call on God to give them life, and to lead them into the land of uprightness.

chayah. In the Old Testament this word carries the force of "to revive, or give new life" in a moral sense. So we read "quicken me again." In Psalm 119 the psalmist asks nine times for God to quicken him — according to God's word, or His righteousness, or His judgements, and so on. See also Psalm 71:20; Psalm 80:18; Psalm 143:11. In the New Testament the word is zoopoieo. It always means making alive those who are in the state, or under the power, of death. So it is sometimes used as the equivalent of resurrection.

In the closing verses the psalmist uses a threefold plea. First, he pleads the Name of the Lord; second, the righteousness of the Lord; and third, that he is the servant of the Lord. The Lord cannot ignore the glory of His Name. His righteousness cannot overlook the wickedness of man. His mercy cannot forget the troubles of His servants.

A heart that is true with God must first be thoroughly subdued and set right. It accepts the punishment of its iniquity instead of making excuses for itself. Only then can it look to God to take up its cause against the malice of its enemies. It cannot do this until it has set God's glory above itself. The soul then holds on to the enjoyment of God's loving-kindness in a subdued and softened spirit. Its motives are purified, and that is the very purpose of the discipline.

"For your goodness' sake," "for your name's sake" — there is ground on which the soul founds its confidence. It is impossible that God should fail His own name (John 17:6). He is "good and upright." What does the goodness of God do for a trembling and miserable sinner? It does not throw his misery back at him, but takes notice of it, to fill him with full confidence and give him courage. God would deny Himself if He failed in His goodness in this case. God cannot do otherwise. He looks after His own name, His glory, His truth, His grace — in a word, all that He is, as we see in the father of the prodigal son (Luke 15:20-25).

David here sets aside his own righteousness. He bases his whole prayer on the righteousness of God. So there is no doubt about the outcome — his own soul revived and his enemies destroyed.

When David and Daniel confess sin, both ask God for help in the same way: on the ground of His righteousness (Psalm 51:14; Daniel 9:16)… People who are conscious of their own sinfulness ask God to step in on this ground — His righteousness towards them.

And then we have the confident expectation — "For Your name's sake, O Lord, You will revive me; in Your righteousness You will bring my soul out of distress. In Your loving-kindness You will cut off my enemies, and will destroy all the adversaries of my soul; for I am Your servant."

Though it takes the form of a prayer, it amounts to a prophecy of Israel's great blessing as she enters the millennium. God will revive the remnant of Israel as never before, for the sake of His own glory (v. 11). He will bring her right out of the troubles that have seemed endless. Not because she deserves it, but because of God's righteousness in keeping His promise to bless her once she has repented.

Righteousness is pleaded in all His relationship with Jehovah. Then cutting off His enemies is mercy, and it is mentioned only in that light. This puts mercy clearly in a new place: a clearing of the earth, so that there may be a land of uprightness, and an earth of peace through the peaceable fruits of righteousness, with those who trouble it gone, in mercy.

In the closing verses the psalmist uses a threefold plea. First, he pleads the Name of the Lord; second, the righteousness of the Lord; and third, that he is the servant of the Lord. The Lord cannot be indifferent to the glory of His Name. His righteousness cannot overlook the wickedness of man. His mercy cannot forget the troubles of His servants.

From there direction is sought — teaching, deliverance, guidance, and the cutting off of enemies, for He was Jehovah's servant. This, then, is the psalm of judgment... The cry rests on God's faithfulness and righteousness — not on the servant's own condition.

He has still to deal with His enemies; therefore He is waiting, still keeping His servant character, until God makes His foes His footstool. We too are expecting, until Christ rises up from the throne and judges His enemies. This has not happened yet. If it had, wickedness would already be gone from the earth. It also explains the call for vengeance in the Psalms, which sometimes puzzles people... "Of Your mercy cut off my enemies." These surely are not the cries of the church. She does not want to see her enemies judged but saved.

As to all who have opposed her, it will be mercy from God to cut them off (v. 12). What a relief from the constant hostility of many Gentile nations, when God steps in with His power and takes it away! "For" the psalmist adds, "I am Your servant." This will be fully seen to be true throughout the thousand years of peace.

It transfers the evils, so to speak, from God to the adversary. The soul joins itself in heart with God, and looks for God to own it and take up its cause against the power of evil which He had used as a rod... The heart that is true with God can then look to God to take up its cause against the malice. But this comes only when it is thoroughly subdued and set right, accepting the punishment of its iniquity instead of excusing itself — and not until it has set God's glory above itself.

Psalm 144 blesses the LORD as the source of strength. Its plea for the destruction of the enemies is, What is man? Why should the LORD take account of such a worm, and hold back blessing by dragging out judgment? So deliverance is looked for, and with it the full and final blessing of Israel. Happy are the people in such a case: happy are the people whose God is the LORD! The psalm applies first to David himself, who is named in it. He acknowledges God as the one who subdues his people under him, and as the source of royal power.

David is no longer pleading for rescue from enemies (he does that only in verse 11). He is celebrating the greatness and goodness of the Lord, whose grace is enough for all his need. He blesses the Lord, his "Rock," the solid foundation on which his faith rests. God is the one who trains him for battle. He trains believers today in the same way, so they can defeat the evil spirits who try to deceive us.

With his enemies in front of him, the psalmist finds comfort in the blessedness of the Lord. In Him he finds everything he needs. The Lord is his strength in weakness. He is his teacher in conflict, and his mercy when needs press in. He is his fortress to shelter in when the storm comes. He is his high tower to watch from, his deliverer in trouble, and his shield for defence.

All those God has trained for His own service share one feature. They dealt with Him in secret before anyone noticed them. The opposite is the restless flesh that wants attention before the soul has had this needed discipline. Such people run before God sends them, and they learn the hard way through their own painful failures.

How was it that David displayed such courage in the valley of Elah? Was it the rashness of youthful inexperience? Oh no, not at all! Through his time alone with God, his faith had risen to God's own thoughts about His people. That is why he was brave in the open field. "Blessed be the LORD, my rock," he could sing, "who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle."

"The earth is the LORD's," and the ordering of it is His also. In His sovereignty He has given Israel the chief and central place among the nations. In them God has displayed His government on the earth, and He will do so again. With a mighty arm He brought them out of Egypt to Himself, to be their King and their God. The idol-worshipping nations that opposed and mocked His power were His enemies, and He used Israel to carry out judgment on them… Now God's grace reaches sinners through the gospel, whether Jew or Gentile, and brings them into one body, the church, a people for heaven.

In our spiritual warfare we too can count on the same support as the psalmist: "Blessed be the LORD my strength, who teaches my hands to war, and my fingers to fight" (Ps. 144:1).

Messiah celebrates the LORD as being with him in the war and conflict for the people. First, what He is to Him; then His subduing of His people under Him. Then comes the righteous question about judgment: What is man, that the Lord waits so long before He removes the wicked and the evil?

With his enemies in front of him, the psalmist finds comfort in how blessed the Lord is. In Him he finds everything he needs. The Lord is his strength in weakness. He is his teacher in conflict. He is his mercy when he is in need. He is his fortress, a refuge in the storm. He is his high tower to keep watch from. He is his deliverer in trouble. He is his shield for defence. And He is the One who will subdue "the peoples" under him.

Faith lays hold on God. Israel, as David did, will look in faith to Him who has the power to deliver His trusting ones. "My Goodness, and my Fortress; my high tower and my deliverer; my shield and He in whom I trust; who subdues the peoples under me" (literal translation). They acknowledge before Him their nothingness, days like shadows passing away.

"My fortress" speaks of a place of defence that cannot be broken into. David, in his time of exile, learned how valuable a fortress was. Then comes "my deliverer." More than once he was in danger. It looked as if the enemy was about to capture or kill him. God stepped in and delivered him from harm… "My shield" speaks of God's protection when he stands face to face with the enemy.

The "Rock" and loving-kindness are perfectly joined in the person of our Lord. He is also our fortress. He is our high tower, lifted high above our enemies. He is our shield, our protection against every trouble. How good it is that we take refuge in Him! Yet the end of this verse, "who subdues My people under Me," shows that it applies to the Lord Jesus. He is the Man of God's choice, depending on God for His overruling power and grace.

Psalm 144. Here Messiah praises Jehovah in the middle of the war and conflict fought for the people. First (v. 2), what He is to Him; then His subduing of His people under Him. Then comes the righteous call for judgment. What is man, that the Lord waits so long before He removes the wicked and the evil?

Israel is still in conflict, but strong in God, and sure of the outcome… He is the real Deliverer. They take refuge in Him, and He subdues the peoples under them.

(vv. 3-4) The psalmist has looked at the greatness of the Lord, and now he sees how weak man is. What is man (Adam), or the son of man (Enosh)? This is man in all his frailty and weakness. Why should the Lord take account of him? He is only a breath, and his days are like a shadow that passes away.

Verse 3 has asked, "What is man?" Now verse 4 answers: "Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow." This is again looking at mankind in general. It is not looking at the striking representative we see in Christ Jesus.

In Job 7, it is: "What is man, that you should magnify him? and that you should set your heart upon him?" He says it in a complaining, bad spirit: Why does the LORD take such notice of me? Why does He make such a trouble about me? Why does He not leave me alone? Why should the LORD think so much of me, and not cut me off?

Then, in Psalm 8, "What is man," that God is going to make His own Son a man, and set Him over everything? … And here, in Psalm 144, it is, "What is man," that God should be so careful over this wicked people?

In Psalm 144 we learn the fruit of that trial. Man failed under it, and so man is now under judgment… Beloved, every one of the sons of Adam has been under trial, and the result was inevitable: they have all come under judgment. Whatever the trial, and whenever it came, it brought the same result. The whole race has come under judgment.

In these verses David has his enemies before his mind. He is filled with thoughts of the unstoppable power of God. He is amazed that God lets man — man who is like a breath — throw himself across God's path again and again, trying to block Him from carrying out His purposes. Then he makes this earnest appeal: "Bow Your heavens, O Lord, and come down … Cast forth lightning, and scatter them." This is the old problem of why God allows evil. It has puzzled godly people in every age. The wicked win, and the righteous suffer… God could order it all differently, yet He does not act! Heaven is silent. Who has not felt the strain and trial of this!

How has this come about? Man breaks down under trial, as in Job. Man comes under judgment, as in Psalm 144. Yet man is set over the works of God, as in Psalm 8. … our Lord Jesus Christ is the answer to it all… He came into flesh and blood conditions, into the scene of trial where every other man had broken down… He too was under trial, yet He never broke down under it… But what about man being under judgment? Beloved, Christ has borne that judgment in our place… He conquered death, and God has raised Him from among the dead and crowned Him with glory and honour at His right hand.

Man is such a small being that millions of men can be swept away in a very short time. The flood of Noah proves it. Yet here is a wonderful fact: the Lord of glory has become Man, and indeed "the Son of Man."

Verse 3 has asked, "What is man?" Now verse 4 answers, "Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow." For this is again considering mankind generally. It is not the striking representative seen in Christ Jesus.

In Psalm 8 the question moves from "Enosh" to "Adam". It is exactly reversed in Psalm 144, where "Adam" in the first question comes out as "Enosh" in the second — that is, frail, powerless and mortal as sinful. Here there is no question of God's purpose or of Christ. The one exception is that the psalm goes on to introduce Him as Jehovah, bowing the heavens and coming down to deliver (verses 5, 7).

Before Jehovah, what is man, that He should take account of him? This is, of course, looking at him as the would-be thwarter of God's purposes. Yet he is merely like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.

Its plea for the destruction of the enemies is, What is man? Why should Jehovah make account of such a worm, and delay bringing in blessing by lingering in judgment like this? So the psalm looks for deliverance, and for the full, true, final blessing of Israel.

In these verses David has his enemies in mind... Filled with thoughts of the unstoppable power of God, he is amazed that God permits it. Man is like a breath. Yet he flings himself across God's path again and again, trying to block Him from carrying out His purposes. He follows this with the earnest appeal: "Bow Your heavens, O Lord, and come down… Flash forth the lightning and scatter them." It is the old problem of God's permission of evil. This has perplexed the godly in every age. The wicked triumph and the righteous suffer... God could so easily order it all otherwise, yet He does not act! Heaven is silent. Who has not felt the strain and trial of this!

How has this come about, we may well ask? Man breaks down under trial in Job. He comes under judgment in Psalm 144. Yet in Psalm 8 he is set over the works of God. The solution to this puzzle of Old Testament days is ours today. The answer to it all is found in our Lord Jesus Christ... He came into flesh and blood conditions, into the scene of trial where every other man had broken down... What about man being under judgment? Christ has borne that judgment as a substitute. He did it so that God's purpose for man could take effect.

Statements like these describe how brief man's life on earth is. They are not new or unknown to those who believe the soul is immortal. And it is a solemn, unnatural thing for God's creatures to be "subject to vanity." Those who argue that way should consider it, quite apart from what comes after death... For the point is the wreck and ruin of the first creation by death coming in at all. This is what gives solemnity to the brevity of his earthly history.

(vv. 5-8) Seeing the greatness of the Lord and the frailty of man, who dares to exalt himself against God, why should the judgment be delayed? So the psalmist begs the Lord to step in with judgment on the enemies of His people. The aim is to bring the godly out of their deep distress — the "great waters" — and to free them from the power of corrupt strangers.

Filled with thoughts of the unstoppable power of God, he is amazed that He should allow man, who is like a breath, to keep throwing himself across His path and trying to block Him in carrying out His purposes. He follows this up with the urgent appeal: "Bow Your heavens, O Lord, and come down… Cast forth lightning, and scatter them." It is the old problem of God's permission of evil. This has puzzled the godly in every age. The wicked triumph, and the righteous suffer. God could so easily order it all otherwise, yet He does not act! Heaven is silent. Who has not felt the strain and trial of this!

"Bow Your heavens, O LORD, and come down!" (v. 5). This is both a prayer and a prophecy. Bowing the heavens and coming down is perfectly true of the Son of God who once came in gracious childhood. But it is also a prophecy of His coming down to Israel in the time of their deepest need. He comes in judgment against their enemies, touching the mountains (which stand for higher authorities) so that they smoke, flashing like lightning to scatter them, and bringing destruction by the arrows of His swift judgment.

In verses 3, 4, there is an emphatic and repeated acknowledgment of human vanity (compare Ps. 8). This prepares the way for the display of God in power in the verses that follow (5-11). The twofold glory of the person of Jesus is displayed. As the Seed of David, and Heir of covenanted mercy, He and His kingdom are the subjects of Divine deliverance. Yet He is Himself the Deliverer.

Man's worthlessness is presented to Him here in this way. It was now the hand of foreigners, and Messiah had to be delivered — the One who pleads for the people He stood in for, and who shared their affliction. Man is like a passing breath. "Bow Your heavens, O Jehovah"; and the righteous Messiah claims the intervention of power, and this brings judgment and new songs — judgment so that righteousness may bear its unhindered and natural fruits of blessing.

There is here, as afterwards in Psalm 144, the expectation of that deliverance by some mission or ministry "from above," or from heaven. The scene in Rev. 19 is the answer to this expectation: there the heavens open to let down the deliverer desired and expected here.

"The mystery of God," that is, the mystery of His non-intervention, of His permission of evil, will then be cleared up. The heavens will no longer be silent, but opened. The rightful Lord of all will come forth and take His rights; evil will be dethroned, and righteousness will be exalted in peace.

In these verses David has his enemies in mind. He was God's Anointed, known and owned as such years before he sat on Israel's throne. Yet he never lacked enemies, both before and after he became king, who did their best to block God's purposes for him... Filled with thoughts of the irresistible power of God, he is amazed that He allows man, who is like a breath, to keep throwing himself across His path and trying to stop Him from carrying out His plans... It is the old problem of God's permission of evil. This has troubled the godly in every age. The wicked triumph, and the righteous suffer... God could so easily order it all otherwise, yet He does not act! Heaven is silent. Who has not felt the strain and trial of this!

"The mystery of God" — that is, the mystery of why He does not step in, of why He allows evil — will then be cleared up. Heaven will no longer be silent. It will be open. The rightful Lord of all will come out and take His rights. He will bring evil down from its throne and lift righteousness up in peace... we shall see that, despite all appearances, the enemy has not really hindered any purpose of God.

"Bow your heavens, O LORD, and come down!" (v. 5). This is both a prayer and a prophecy. Bowing the heavens and coming down is perfectly true of the Son of God, who once came as a child in grace. But it is also a prophecy of His coming down to Israel in the time of their deepest need. He comes in judgment against their enemies. He touches the mountains, which stand for higher authorities, and makes them smoke. He flashes like lightning to scatter them. He brings destruction by the arrows of His swift judgment.

Its plea for the destruction of the enemies is this: What is man? Why should the LORD take account of such a worm, and hold back blessing by waiting so long to judge? So deliverance is looked for, so that Israel may come into its full, true, final blessing.

"Bow your heavens, O LORD" — the righteous Messiah asks God to step in with power, and this brings judgment and new songs. The judgment comes so that righteousness may bear its natural fruits of blessing, with nothing left to hinder them.

It is the difference in God's dealings that clears it all up, without twisting the words. When God judges enemies, as He did long ago and will again, His people share in it to some extent. Now He is showing sovereign grace, and a different spirit of action fits them. The New Testament proves this clearly for the Christian and the church. Even so, the Psalms are a treasure of divine riches to the believer.

"Bow down Your heavens, O Lord, and come down!" (v. 5). This is both a prayer and a prophecy. Bowing the heavens and coming down was fully true of the Son of God, who once came as a child in grace. But this is prophetic too of His coming down to Israel in the time of their deepest need... He will stretch out His hand from high above. He will deliver Israel from the waters of the "overflowing scourge" (Isa. 28:18), which will sweep from north to south at the time of the end. So "foreigners" will be shown up: their words are false, and even their right hand shows that falsehood (vv. 7-8).

(vv. 5-8) Seeing the greatness of the Lord and the frailty of man, who dares to exalt himself against God, why should the judgment be delayed? So the psalmist begs the Lord to step in and judge the enemies of His people. That judgment brings the godly out of their deep distress — the "great waters" — and delivers them from the power of strangers, who are marked by corruption.

...deliver me from the many waters (the great tribulation), from the hand of foreigners (the Gentiles)... Then the new song bursts out. It looks ahead to the answer to this great prayer — the answer the coming Lord brings to His suffering people when He appears in power and glory.

It is now "The Lord my Rock." The Beloved is still in great waters, and still under the hand, or strength, of strange children — unbelieving and proud Gentiles. But He has passed through the depth of sorrow about the remnant of the Jews. There judgment, as the place of righteousness, had to be entered into and met. Having passed through that, He has simply the strength of the Lord, His Rock, to lean on and to stand firm on against them, exulting in it.

So God is asked to come down and destroy their enemies. The prayer is that He will send from heaven and deliver them from the hand of strangers — men who speak empty words and act falsely... If this pictures anyone in the last days, another writer suggests it would be "the prince" of Ezekiel 44 — 46, for there will be a house of David on the earth at that time (Zech. 13). Messiah is of course the true Head. But the language seems more naturally to point to only a human ruler.

It was now the hand of strange children, and Messiah had to be delivered — Messiah, who pleads for those for whom, and then with whom, He was afflicted. Man is like a breath. "Bow your heavens, O Lord"; and the righteous Messiah claims that God will step in with power. This brings judgment and new songs — judgment so that righteousness may bear its free and natural fruits of blessing.

Send Your hand from above; rescue me and deliver me out of the great waters (the great tribulation) from the hands of the strangers, that is, the Gentiles (144:5-8). Then the new song bursts out. It looks ahead to the answer to this great prayer — the answer the coming Lord brings to His suffering people when He appears in power and glory.

He will stretch out His hand from high above to deliver Israel from the waters of the "overflowing scourge" (Isa. 28:18). That flood will sweep from north to south at the time of the end. So the "foreigners" stand exposed: their words are false, and even their right hand shows that falsehood (vv. 7-8).

Look at the greatness of the Lord, and at the frailty of man, who dares to lift himself up against God. Why should the judgment wait? So the psalmist begs the Lord to step in with judgment on the enemies of His people. That would bring the godly out of their deep distress — the "great waters" — and free them from the power of strangers who are marked by corruption.

God's patience had been the patience of perfect power, not of weakness toward evil. Man's worthlessness is now set before Him. It was now the hand of strangers, and Messiah had to be delivered. He pleads for that people — the people He was afflicted for first, and then afflicted with. The righteous Messiah claims that power should step in, and this brings judgment and new songs — judgment, so that righteousness may bear its unhindered and natural fruits of blessing.

So they ask God to come down and destroy their enemies, sending from heaven to deliver them from the hand of strangers — men who speak empty words and act out lies. Then they would sing a new song to Him, the One who gives victory to kings (and not their own might), and who rescues David His servant from the deadly sword. … Messiah is of course the true Head, but the language here seems to point more naturally to a merely human ruler.

Verses 12-15. Destruction has fallen on the strangers, who loved lying instead of the truth (2 Thess. 2). Now praise is ready to break out from Zion. It had waited there in silence until the day of triumph came, the day of binding up the breach.

Then the new song bursts out. It looks ahead to the answer to this great prayer — the answer the coming Lord brings to His suffering people when He appears in power and glory.

The nothingness of man (Adam), who is as a breath, the son of Enosh — not worthy of a thought; who are aliens, moreover; whose mouth speaks vanity, and their right hand a right hand of falsehood: why should such be allowed to hinder the blessing of Jehovah's people? In faith's anticipation the psalmist will sing the New Song.

The old song, sung by the morning stars over the foundations of the earth, was not a conqueror's song. It did not celebrate a divine victory to redeem or to avenge God's chosen. There was no theme of victory then, for no battle had been fought and won. But sin has since entered. A great counterforce has been in action, and the Lord has had to go out, and is still to go out, as "a man of war," the God of battles. And so at the end a new song must be awakened, a song with a new theme, to celebrate Him in this new action, or character of glory. The song over creation must give place, in range and melody, to the song over the triumphs of Jesus.

The "instrument of ten strings" can produce lovely music, depending on the hand that plays it. But it is a symbol of the full range of adoring praise that can come from full hearts. The low notes remind us of the deep sorrows of the Lord Jesus, who went down into the depths of the sufferings of Calvary's cross. The high notes mark the height of His present glory, now ascended above all heavens. All the notes in between are part of the perfect symphony of the whole history of our blessed Lord.

Three Psalms in the inspired Song Book of God's earthly people speak of "an instrument of ten strings" used for His praise (Ps. 33:2; 92:3; 144:9). In the first the main theme is His "word"; in the second His "work"; and in the third the Lord Himself. Clearly man, by the design of God's love, is to be for His own pleasure, with all his powers used for His praise. This can only come through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus... How could the strings sound out the music of praise unless His work of divine grace freed them and tuned them to do so?

Psalm 144 is the claim of Messiah to judge, in making war, man and the enemies of Israel, thus introducing the new song of His triumphal glory in Israel.

"Praise of David." Here comes "Praise," or the new song purposed in Ps. 144.

The last book in the Bible contains, in its first chapter, a song that we still sing to Him who loves us and has washed us from our sins. Later on, in the fifth chapter, we meet the "new song," often anticipated in the Psalms (Ps. 33:3; Ps. 40:3; Ps. 96:1; Ps. 144:9; Ps. 149:1). We can even now sing: "O Lord, the glad new song is ours even here to sing." Let our tongues not be silent. "The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me" (Ps. 50:23).

Israel's deliverance will awaken "a new song" with "a harp of ten strings." That is the full and overflowing range of the octave. What a contrast to the distress of being persecuted! For God gives salvation to kings, and especially to David His servant, the clear type of Christ (vv. 9-10).

Thus delivered, the godly will find a fresh occasion for praise to God who gives salvation, and rescues His servant from the sword.

So they beg God to come down and destroy their enemies. They ask Him to send from heaven and deliver them from the hand of strangers — men who speak empty words and act out lies. Then they would sing a new song to Him. He is the giver of victory to kings, not their own might, and He rescues David His servant from the cruel sword. Perhaps this points forward to someone in the last days. If so, another writer has suggested that "it would be 'the prince' of Ezekiel 44 — 46; for there will be a house of David on the earth" at that time (Zechariah 13). Messiah is of course the true Head; but the language seems more naturally to refer to a merely human ruler.

Here the twofold glory of the person of Jesus shines out. As the Seed of David, and Heir of covenanted mercy, He and His kingdom are the subjects of divine deliverance. Yet He is Himself the Deliverer. He is the God whose thunder sounds in heaven. He comes out from His place to avenge the blood of His saints, and to glorify His name by keeping the faithful covenant of promise.

Joash was only a baby at the time. His mother, Zibiah of Beersheba, was most likely dead — probably murdered by her cruel mother-in-law. Jehosheba, the child's aunt and wife of the high priest Jehoiada, hid him with his nurse... "And he remained with them six years, hidden in the house of God, while Athaliah reigned over the land." This was God's mercy to the house of David. God had declared it already during the reign of Athaliah's husband Jehoram: "Yet the LORD was not willing to destroy the house of David, because of the covenant that he had made with David, and since he had promised to give a lamp to him and to his sons forever" (2 Chronicles 21:7).

This psalm blesses Jehovah in confidence and bright expectation... Israel always expects blessing to come through God's judgment, whatever mercy there is too. The Christian stands in grace and looks into heaven, to which he belongs as in Christ. This psalm looks for judgment, not the gospel.

This is still prophetic. The psalmist asks for deliverance from the hand of foreigners (v. 11). It is almost a repetition of verses 7 and 8. But verses 12 to 15 stress the outcome: the great, abundant blessing given to them in the millennium.

Ps. 144: 1, 2 Blessed be Jehovah my strength and refuge; 3, 4 the littleness of man! 5-8 Come down and save me from the stranger and the wicked. 9,10 I will sing a new song, he is the deliverer of David from the sword; 11 rid me, etc., that, 12-14 we may have earthly blessings, 15 and blessedness.

Stretch out Your hand from on high; rescue me and deliver me from the many waters (the great tribulation), from the hand of foreigners (the Gentiles) (144:5-8). Then the new song bursts out. It looks ahead to the answer to this great prayer, the answer the coming Lord brings to His suffering people when He appears in power and glory. Verses 12-15 look ahead to the days of earthly blessing, when the King has returned and rules in righteousness.

Man (Adam) is nothing. He is like a breath, the son of Enosh — not worth a thought. These men are foreigners as well. Their mouth speaks emptiness, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood. Why should such people hold back the blessing of Jehovah's people?

Man's worthlessness is set before Him here. The hand was now the hand of foreigners, and Messiah must be delivered — pleading all the while for those He was put in the place of, and then afflicted with. Man is like a breath. "Bow your heavens, O Jehovah." The righteous Messiah calls for power to step in, and this brings judgment and new songs. Judgment comes so that righteousness may bear its free and natural fruits of blessing.

The psalm applies first to David himself. He is named in it, and he owns God as the one who subdues his (David's) people under him, and as the source of royal power. I do not see that it brings in anyone personally in the latter day. If it did, that person would be "the prince," for there will be a human house of David on the earth… Messiah will certainly be their head, but David himself speaks the psalm as a prophet.

(vv. 11-15) Once rid of all their enemies, the godly will reach the earthly blessing of the millennium. Men will be blessed in their children and will prosper in their circumstances. No one will hear complaints or discontent among a people made happy by owning the Lord as their God.

The closing verses describe the happiness of Israel. God will at last bring them inside the bond of everlasting righteousness, and they will become the honoured and well-filled vessel of Jehovah's goodness in the earth. He will be their God. The blessing described here is plainly an earthly one. But it is the fruit and lasting effect of a righteousness which is from above. Divine righteousness in Christ is the only basis of the kingdom of God, which will then be set up in triumph on earth.

This is still prophetic. The psalmist asks for rescue from the hand of foreigners (v. 11), which almost repeats verses 7 and 8. But verses 12 to 15 stress the result: the great, rich blessing given to them in the millennium. Their sons will be like plants grown up in their youth, well developed while still young. Their daughters will not be wanderers. They will be like pillars, stable and solid, a credit to proper family life, "sculptured in palace style" — that is, shaped by the forming power of the Spirit of God, fit to be homes for the King (v. 12).

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, the sons grew up like plants, and their daughters like the polished corners of the temple. It was no longer the time to say, "Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore." The full blessing had come in. He made "the barren woman keep house, and be a fruitful mother of children." Nor was it the prosperity of worldliness, as in Psalm 49, in the due time of sorrow. It was the blessing from the Lord in the time of blessing, when the city was built, and the streets of Jerusalem, where the Lord was, would be full of boys and girls playing, themselves a blessing from the Lord.

Then these stones must be "polished after the similitude of a palace." This is the work of the teacher, who opens up the mysteries of God and leads souls upward, onward, Godward, into closer conformity to Christ. The present world is God's workshop, where there is fellowship in the work. The Lord Jesus uses not only the gifts of the Spirit, but also the trials and temptations that come on Christians. All things are under His skilful hand, and so "all things work together for good to those who love God."

Ps. 18 is part of a series (16 – 24) connected with the Lord. It describes the victorious career of the king, and only that. Ps. 144, on the other hand, ties millennial blessing for the earthly people (11-14) to the king's deliverance. So it rightly finds its place in the collection near the close of the Psalms. And while the eighteenth Psalm ends with the thought of everlasting prosperity for David and his seed, Ps. 144 ends with the thought of the nation's happiness.

There is no need to insist on the earthly character of the blessedness described here. But it is the fruit and lasting effect of a righteousness which comes from above. Divine righteousness in Christ is the sole basis of the kingdom of God, which will then be set up in triumph on earth.

This Psalm follows on from the one before it. At the close of that psalm the one praying had asked for the destruction of the enemy. Here he speaks as one who is sure that God would be his strength, his shield, and his victory in the battle. So he longs for the day of conflict, because he expects to win. And beyond that, he expects its fruit and joy in the kingdom: all human prosperity, children and wealth and settled peace.

Think how little man is — Adam, who is like a breath, the son of frail man, not worth a thought. These men are foreigners as well. Their mouth speaks empty lies, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood. Why should such people be allowed to block the blessing of Jehovah's people?

The same as "granary," a storehouse for threshed grain and for the fruits of the earth.

Our granaries full, affording from kind to kind; our sheep bearing thousands, bearing ten thousands in our fields.

So, rid of all their enemies, the godly will reach the earthly blessing of millennial days. Men will be blessed in their children and prospered in their circumstances. You will hear no more complaints or discontent among a people made happy by acknowledging the Lord as their God.

The closing verses describe the happiness of Israel. At last they are brought inside the bond of everlasting righteousness, and they become the honoured, richly supplied vessel of Jehovah's goodness on the earth. He will be their God. There is no need to insist that the blessing described here is earthly. But it is the fruit and lasting effect of a righteousness that comes from above. Divine righteousness in Christ is the only basis of the kingdom of God, which will then be set up in triumph on earth.

Their barns will be full, because the Lord will have given them steadily good harvests (v. 13). This pictures the spiritual abundance with which the Lord blesses His people today. The same is true of the sheep producing by thousands. That stands for the fruitfulness of the gospel, bringing thousands of souls to a knowledge of salvation in Christ.

This psalm blesses Jehovah in confidence and bright expectation. Why should man — Adam, son of frail and fainting humanity — hold back the blessing that comes through God's judgment? For this is always what Israel expects, whatever mercy there is as well. The Christian stands in grace and looks into heaven, where he belongs as in Christ. This psalm looks for judgment, not the gospel.

So here the one who prays knows that this longed-for deliverance will lead directly into the joy of the days of the Messiah, that is, the kingdom (verses 11-15). In the same way, creation knows that her release from her present bondage to decay will be into glorious liberty. And the saints can and do sing, "those whom He justified He also glorified" (Romans 8:21, 30). For when the blessed God makes a way of escape for sinners or captives, in His love He will carry them into more than liberty.

Oxen and donkeys are the means of labour, which is the chief source of wealth. "Much increase is by the strength of the ox" (Proverbs 14:4); "That our oxen may be strong to labour" (Psalm 144:14).

Oxen speak of those who labour for the Lord, bearing their burdens well, to protect against any "breaking in or going out" (verse 14). Those who would break in are enemies trying to get in among believers to damage their testimony. But those who will be within at that time will be kept from "going out." Today, though, some seem to be the Lord's yet show their falsehood by "going out" (see 1 John 2:19). Also, today we see outcries in our streets all the time, protesting against almost everything. But what a relief in the millennium, when there will be no outcry in the streets: "Happy are the people who are in such a state."

Rid of all their enemies in this way, the godly will reach the earthly blessing of millennial days, when men will be blessed in their children and prospered in their circumstances. Complaints and discontent will no longer be heard among a people made happy by owning the Lord as their God.

The closing verses describe the happiness of Israel when, brought at last within the bond of everlasting righteousness, they become the honoured and richly supplied vessel of Jehovah's goodness in the earth. He will be their God. No one needs to argue that the blessedness described here is earthly. But it is the fruit and lasting effect of a righteousness which is from above. Divine righteousness in Christ is the sole basis of the kingdom of God, which will then be set up in triumph on the earth.

His other purpose was to show His character through the prosperity of this people under His own direct government. He would show it so plainly that all men might understand: "Happy is that people that is in such a case; yes, happy is that people whose God is the Lord" (Psalm 144:15). Israel will then be a sample, a specimen, before all nations, of the happiness of a people under the immediate government of God.

"Blessed are the people that are in such a case!" Blessed to look forward to a state of order — moral, holy, gracious order. The power of God's presence keeps it. These Scriptures both promise such order and picture it in advance. Until this age of order comes, it is good for us, dear friends, if we can pass through the confusion now around us in something of the light and purity of the mind of Christ.

He desires the day of conflict, expecting victory. And beyond that, he expects its fruit and joy in the kingdom: all human prosperity, children and wealth and settled peace. He expects too the shared verdict of the whole world, that "happy is that people whose God is the Lord."

Their sons will be like plants grown up in their youth, well developed while still young. Their daughters will not be wanderers. They will be like pillars — stable and solid, a credit to proper family life, "sculptured in palace style." That is, the forming power of the Spirit of God works on them to make them fit as residences for the King.

The psalm ends by describing the portion of Israel as the people of Jehovah. It begins with Jehovah stepping in with power for them — righteously, because of the character of their enemies. This would bring them into the full earthly blessing that the law announced. But the law itself could never put them in possession of it.

All that a person has comes from the bounty of God, but God is greater than all He gives. It is Himself, and not just what He gives, that makes a person's cup of happiness overflow. True happiness is found in knowing and enjoying God Himself. So that His creature might find that happiness here, He has made Himself known in His beloved Son. In Him we find God, and in Him we are brought to the fountain of all blessing.

His other object was to show His character through the prosperity of this people, under His own direct government. He would show it so plainly that all men might understand that "Happy is that people that is in such a case; yes, happy is that people whose God is the Lord." It is in the future reign of Christ that this purpose of God will be accomplished. Israel will then be a sample, a specimen, before all nations, of the happiness of a people under the direct government of God.

Psalm 144:15 has just pronounced the Jewish people of the coming kingdom happy, and here they express their happiness. It is as if others had said, "the Lord has done great things for them." They now reply, "the Lord has done great things for us, and we are glad."

Faith cures the trembling heart; it rises above fear as oil floats above water. To trust in God makes Him to be a God to us. God will turn all evils to our good. Joseph's imprisonment was the means of his advancement. Out of the bitterest medicine He will distil His glory and our salvation. In short, He will be our guide to death, our comfort in death, and our reward after death. "Happy is that people, whose God is the Lord."

How very fitting that this psalm should carry the title "David's psalm of praise." It comes right before the last five psalms, and each of those begins and ends with "Praise the LORD," or "Hallelujah."

It is the last of the alphabetical Psalms, and the last in the Psalter ascribed to the king. So we shall hear the royal singer's voice no more in the Psalter. His last words in it are unmixed praise... Saul died forsaken of God (1 Sam. 28:15-16). David's last notes in the Psalter are notes of praise.

All through the psalm the psalmist uses the Name of Jehovah — the covenant-keeping God of Israel, who brought His people into relationship with Himself. Ps. 145:1 is the one exception. There he addresses the self-existing, Eternal One as "My Elohim, O King." He extols his God and blesses Him every day. He looks forward to the time of His kingdom, for then he will praise His Name for ever and ever.

Jehovah is the King. He is great. He is gracious. He is good. He is righteous. Such is His character... What a change will come about in the world when Jehovah the King becomes a common subject of wonder and praise!

Psalm 145 moves on in thought into the millennium. The distress is over, and there is full deliverance to celebrate. It is Christ in spirit — perhaps even in person — in the midst of Israel. He leads the praises of Jehovah and wakes them up among men... Christ speaks here as man — "my God." The psalm looks at Jehovah as King.

Its position in the book, and the fact that David is a familiar picture of Christ, should lead us to think of Messiah here. He leads the praises of men — praising, as He declares He will, in the great congregation (Ps. 22:25). Whose voice but His could fittingly take this place? And in the psalm itself the Speaker sets Himself apart from the general voice of praise. That praise begins with the "godly" in Israel and reaches out to the "sons of men" at large (vv. 10, 12). This distinction lasts for all eternity (v. 21).

The godly man is delivered from all his enemies. He can look on to an eternity where he sees no evil intruding, and no trace of sorrow to dim his joy in the Lord. So he can say, "I will bless your name forever and ever," "I will praise your name forever and ever."

The Spirit of God left out the letter Nun. This surely suggests that Psalm 145 could not supply the full measure of Jehovah's praise. All the praise of the five following psalms is necessary... To give full measure, we also need the tributes of praise in Revelation 5:9-14 and the Hallelujahs of Revelation 19:1-6. That praise will fill heaven and the wide universe of God — praise to God and to the Lamb.

The one finished and accepted sacrifice of Christ has lasting power. In it there is forgiveness of sins for everyone who believes... Faith sees that the one thing has been done in the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ... So praise, the highest part of worship, can begin now: "I will extol you, my God and King, and bless your name forever and ever." (Ps. 145.)