([A Psalm] of David.) Jehovah is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Jehovah is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
The psalm opens with no plea and no complaint. It gives two statements about the LORD, and each one is followed by a question whose answer is "no one." Everything else in Psalm 27 grows out of this first claim about who God is to the one praying.
The verse never surveys the threat before dismissing it. One writer shows how the psalm argues, and how much strength lies in its refusal to size up the danger:
The psalm begins with a glad note of confidence. It throws out all fear as unworthy and impossible... The argument is short and complete. It is all the more complete because it does not look around or count up any particular evils. It looks up, and it only needs to look up, into Jehovah's face.
"Light" here is not something God hands out. It is what He is — and knowing Him that way puts a person outside the dark, and brings deliverance with it.
It is worth noticing what the psalmist's confidence rests on at the start of the psalm. It rests on what Jehovah is, as the soul knows Him... God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all; but the kingdom of Satan is marked by darkness... Jehovah had become his light — in a region outside of Satan's kingdom and power — and so also his deliverance.
Another writer notes that God is rarely called "Light" before the New Testament. The same writer explains why that name could only come with something else:
How wonderful that the Lord Himself has become our "Light." He is not often presented that way in the Old Testament. We could not have borne it unless His love had been revealed with it; so it comes out more in the New Testament. The One who has become our Light, with the necessary exposure of all our ruin, has also become our "Salvation."
The three titles cover the whole ground: understanding for the road, rescue from sin and pressure, and strength when our own runs out.
Without the light there is no way to tell where the path goes, so many walk in darkness, not knowing where they are going. But the believer knows Christ as the Light, the One who gives understanding, making our way clear before us... He is also our salvation. He delivers us from our sins through His great sacrifice at the cross, and from the many difficulties that press in from every side... Though our own strength fails badly, we may say with Paul, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:13).
Verses 2 and 3 widen the threat: attackers, then an army, then open war. The answer does not change with the size of the danger.
With the Lord as his resource, the believer can say, "Of whom shall I be afraid?" Enemies may come one at a time. A whole army may come. Or "war" may come — opposition that lasts at every step of the journey. But the heart need not fear, and the soul need not lose confidence, since we have the Lord as our light, our salvation, and our strength.
The psalm puts the fearless words first and the trembling prayer second — the reverse of what we would expect. One writer treats that order as the psalm's real lesson:
Psalm 27 shows the heart confident in Jehovah, yet searching itself before Him while evil is on open display... Man would have spoken of fear when facing the enemy and confidence when with God. Whereas grace, at work in real dealings of the heart with God, gives boldness with the enemy.
Fearlessness is not where the psalm ends. Free from dread, the psalmist's whole heart narrows to one thing in the next verse.
This psalm makes one thing clear. The more we learn of God, and the more we think about the ways He has shown His love, the more we want to know Him. It was so with David. He first tells us what Jehovah was to him, how He had helped him, and how sure he was about dangers ahead. Then his whole heart pours out in the next verse.
Commentators read the psalm on more than one level. One writer sets its first meaning in a future day. That same writer says the practical value still belongs to readers now:
This psalm holds feelings and experiences that will mark out the faithful few whom God keeps among the Jews in a future day... We do not follow that first meaning further. Our aim is practical — to gather lessons that build us up.
- Look up, not round. The verse answers fear without once measuring the threat; its whole argument is a glance into God's face.
- Light first. God does not just send light — He is light. Knowing Him exposes our ruin and puts us outside the realm of darkness.
- Then salvation. Light could not be carried alone. The One who shows us what we are also saves us, through the sacrifice of the cross and from present pressures.
- Then strength. He is the support that carries the believer through opposition of any size — one enemy, an army, or long war.
- Bold outside, searched inside. Real dealings with God produce courage before the enemy — and that courage frees the heart to want one thing only: God Himself.
When evil-doers, mine adversaries and mine enemies, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell.
The second verse of this psalm looks back at a real attack that failed. Enemies closed in like predators, and it was they who fell, not David. So what makes a hunted man fearless?
The words "eat up my flesh" describe an animal's attack. One writer reads the verse with the two other forms of attack named later in the psalm:
The believer has the Lord as his "light," "salvation," and "strength." So he is confident in the presence of his enemies. They may come as single attackers, striking at the soul like a beast without conscience. They may come as "a host." Or the attack may be prolonged, as in "war."
The verse reports something that already happened. David is not predicting rescue; he is remembering it. And the memory includes how little he did:
Wicked enemies had surrounded David. They came upon him like wild beasts of prey, to eat up his flesh, but they stumbled and fell. He was an outcast, and all the power of his enemy's kingdom stood against him. Yet he was safe under the protection of his Light and his Deliverer. Again and again Saul determined to destroy David, but every effort failed. And David never struck a single blow to protect himself. The more completely the believer leaves himself in the Lord's hands, the more fully he will know the Lord's help and deliverance. This holds true however hopeless his situation looks. We cannot live on past experiences, but faith argues that God is always the same: as He has delivered, He will keep delivering.
David's confidence is not in his own resources. It rests on what the Lord had become to him — light, deliverance, strength:
God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all; but the kingdom of Satan is marked by darkness... Take salvation in the psalm in its plain sense of deliverance, and we see how far the psalmist had anticipated the truth of Christianity. The Lord had become his light, in a region outside Satan's kingdom and power, and so also his deliverance. What is more, the Lord was the strength of his life. He was the One the psalmist could lean on while feeling his own total weakness. He was the One he could count on with confidence, whatever forces stood against him.
The enemy's attack does not only fail. It turns into something for the psalmist:
The psalmist had known the Lord throwing the enemies of the faithful into confusion. In the time of trouble He would hide him. The assault of foes would only be the occasion of lifting up his head above them. Then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
One writer hears more than David's voice here. He reads the verse as spoken of Jesus, and points to the night He was arrested:
"When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall." This is how David spoke concerning Jesus (Psalm 27). And so, in the garden, the band of men and officers came to seize Him. "When Jesus said to them, 'I am he,' they drew back and fell to the ground" (John 18).
One writer points to the people who came back from exile. They stopped rebuilding God's house because their opponents frightened them — and this psalm was their own.
Fear of their adversaries was stronger than their faith in God. So they lost heart. They thought only of themselves and their own selfish interests. They began to build their own houses and to say, "The time has not yet come to rebuild the house of the Lord."... It is true that they were only a feeble remnant, and their enemies were many and active. But they might have read, in one of their own Psalms, "my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall."
- Light first. Verse 2 gets its courage from verse 1. God known as light, salvation and strength drains the threat of its terror.
- Beast, host, war. The enemy comes in three sizes: the single attacker without conscience, the encamped army, the long war. None of them changes the answer.
- No blow struck. David escaped Saul again and again without defending himself. The more fully a believer leaves his case with God, the more he sees God act.
- Fall upward. The attack meant to devour him lifts his head above his enemies instead, and ends in sacrifices of joy. In the garden, the men who came for Jesus drew back and fell to the ground.
- Use it or lose it. The exiles had this psalm and still stopped building. Their fear of enemies beat their faith in God.
If a host encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; if war rise against me, in this will I be confident.
Psalm 27 opens by naming the Lord as light and salvation. This verse tests that claim at its limit: an army in the field, war breaking out, and a heart that still refuses to panic — so what makes such calm honest, and not just brave talk?
One writer sees a ladder of pressure here: one enemy, then a crowd of them, then a war that never lets up.
With the Lord as his resource, the believer can say, "Of whom shall I be afraid?" Enemies may oppose us one at a time. They may come as a whole host. Or they may come as "war" — opposition that drags on at every step of the journey. But the heart need not fear and the soul need not lose confidence, since we have the Lord as our light, our salvation, and our strength.
Calm in front of an army only makes sense if something is there that the eye cannot see. One commentator names the enemy a believer faces now, then points to a prophet's servant who woke to find enemy troops all around the town:
Our enemies today are "the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" — Satan's angels, who work constantly to undermine our faith in the Lord Jesus. But if we put on "the whole armor of God" (Eph. 6:11), we can stand against them and defeat their evil plans... "Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear." The whole Syrian army once surrounded Elisha's house. Elisha stayed at peace, while terror gripped his servant (2 Kings 6:14-15). Elisha prayed for the Lord to open the young man's eyes (v. 17). He then saw the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire, drawn up to protect Elisha. Doesn't the believer today have protection just as real against the opposition of evil spirits? Our hearts have no reason to fear. They have every reason to trust the Lord fully, however threatening the enemy's attacks may be.
This calm is not a mood. It is an argument, and past rescue is the evidence.
Present faith brought David's past experience back to mind. It let him look without fear at everything the future might hold... We cannot live on past experiences. But faith reasons that God is always the same. As He has delivered, He will keep on delivering. (Compare 2 Corinthians 1:10.) So it is a rich thing to learn what God is for us. His past dealings teach us, and so do the times He has stepped in on our behalf.
In this psalm, confidence and one desire go together. One writer traces both through its first half:
In Psalm 27 we have two distinct parts... The first part, verses 1-6, is the confidence of the believer. That confidence is absolute, whatever the enemies were. In the second part, verses 7-12, we find the cry of distress. In the first, singleness of eye lays the ground of confidence... Enemies outside or oppressors inside, a host and a war rising up, stir no fear. The Lord is the light and salvation of the soul. Its one desire is to dwell in the house of the Lord, to see His beauty and to inquire in His temple.
Anyone can quote these words while walking into a danger God never sent him into. Josiah, a king of Judah, went out to a battle without God's word for it:
Suppose Josiah had weighed up the situation in God's presence and gone out at His bidding. Then he might have used David's words in Psalm 27... When our blessed Lord went into danger, to the dismay of His disciples, He was calmly confident. He had the Father's word for what He was doing, and so He was walking in the light (John 11:7-10). But Josiah had lost touch with God. He was making the biggest mistake of his life, and the whole nation suffered for it as well as himself.
One writer hears a deeper voice in the psalm: Christ's own, spoken in a faithful few during a coming time of trouble.
Psalm 27 is the word of Christ, as found in the tried remnant of the last days. He identifies Himself with their feelings. His words rest on His own stated experience of the Lord's faithfulness to Him when He stood alone. Notice that the time of trouble is the time of God's deliverance. It is the place where they met God, whatever else they felt, even when it seemed to be Satan.
- Light first. The calm here is not the psalmist's own. The Lord as his light, salvation and strength is what makes "Of whom shall I be afraid?" an honest question.
- Sight next. The enemy does not shrink. The heart steadies because of unseen protection, as real as the horses of fire around Elisha.
- Memory next. Faith argues from past rescues. The God who has delivered will keep delivering.
- Single eye next. Confidence and one desire travel together. The settled heart is set on dwelling with God.
- Obedience always. The words fit the person sent by God, not the one, like Josiah, who walks into danger out of touch with Him.
One [thing] have I asked of Jehovah, that will I seek after that I may dwell in the house of Jehovah all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of Jehovah, and to inquire [of him] in his temple.
Enemies surround David in this psalm, and under that pressure he asks for one thing only. Three questions follow: what is that one thing, where is this dwelling, and what do you see and do there?
Start with the number in the verse. It describes more than a prayer; it describes a state of heart.
"One thing." It is the simple expression of a heart that has only one motive, one object. In other words, it is what the Lord refers to when He speaks of "a single eye" — an eye taking in only one object.
David does not stop at asking. He adds that he will seek after it.
Notice first that he had not only asked this of the Lord, which was a true beginning. It was also the purpose of his heart to follow after it. And what did David long for so deeply? It was to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of his life. There he could contemplate the display of His glory and His beauty, and learn His mind. The temple was the place where the Lord shared His thoughts with those who waited on Him.
"All the days of my life" fixes the timing. The prayer is about now as much as later.
It is undividedness of heart that comes out here. "One thing"; what is it? "That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life": not merely when I go to heaven. His presence has become the sanctuary of our hearts. We now have unhindered access. There is no veil now. We may in spirit dwell there now, "to behold the beauty of the Lord." ... Once we saw no beauty in Him that we should desire Him; but now He is the chief among ten thousand, the altogether lovely.
Why does this dwelling matter day by day? One writer answers from ordinary life.
Continually dwelling in the house of the Lord is the one thing that gives character. You can be sure of it: the place where you live is the place that gives you character.
With enemies close, we might expect David to ask for shelter. He gives a different reason.
For what purpose are we to dwell there? To get out of the storm? No. Out of difficulties? No. Out of the exercises and trials that we are in here? Not a word about it. What is it, then? Just this, "to behold the beauty of the Lord." ... I love to think of that. It is like God to give me a motive in Himself, outside of all the wretched, miserable, selfish things that surround me here.
Commentators differ on what "beauty" means here. Trench sees the loveliness of Christ; another writer reads the word more plainly, and ties it to a habit.
"Beauty" in this verse apparently has the sense of pleasantness or graciousness. ... Withdraw from the noise and distraction of the world into the quiet of God's presence. That is how you come to know the mind of God and to experience His graciousness.
The verse ends with a second thing done in that place: inquiring. One writer says the Hebrew behind it is warmer than it sounds.
There is another thing in that verse: "to inquire in his temple." I make no claim to scholarship, but the strict meaning of the Hebrew words is "to meditate with joy in his temple." I believe that is the literal force of those words in the original language. "To meditate with joy." "One thing have I asked: to dwell, to behold, and to meditate with joy."
The psalm opens with a man who will not fear an army. Verse 4 is not a change of subject; it explains where that steadiness comes from.
But one important principle, or state of soul, goes with this confidence and forms its basis. It is complete singleness of eye and desire. The soul looks to the Lord for one thing and seeks one thing: to be with Him, in His presence where He is and where we can adore Him; to behold His beauty, and to learn there His will and mind.
- One desire. The verse is the voice of a heart with only one motive and one object — what Scripture calls a single eye.
- One pursuit. Desiring is the true beginning; David adds that he will seek after it, making it the settled purpose of his heart.
- One dwelling. David asks for all his days, not only the life to come. Access is open now, and the believer may dwell in that presence today.
- One sight. He does not go in to escape the storm but to behold the Lord's beauty — a motive God gives us in Himself.
- One result. This singleness of eye and desire is the very basis of the confidence that makes the rest of the psalm fearless.
For in the day of evil he will hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tent will he keep me concealed he will set me high upon a rock.
Verse 4 asked God for one thing: to live in His house. Verse 5 is the answer. The place David longed for becomes the place God hides him when trouble comes. So what does God promise here — escape from the trouble, or shelter inside it? The writers below quote an older translation, where the ESV's "shelter" is "pavilion" and "the cover of his tent" is "the secret of his tabernacle."
The first half of this psalm is not a cry for help but a settled certainty, and verse 5 belongs to that section.
In Psalm 27 we have two distinct parts... The first part, verses 1-6, is the confidence of the believer. That confidence is complete, whatever enemies there were... Enemies outside or oppressors inside... an army and a war rising up stir no fear. Jehovah is the light and salvation of the soul. Its only desire is to live in the house of Jehovah, to see His beauty and to ask of Him in His temple... In the time of trouble He would hide him. The attack of enemies would only be the occasion for lifting his head above them, and then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
The shelter is not a new address found in an emergency. It is the house he had already asked to live in.
How often we need trouble to bring our hearts back to the Lord. But it was not trouble that led the Psalmist to seek the Lord. He sought Him for His own sake. Then, when trouble did come, it found him already hidden in the innermost part of His pavilion, at home with Him in all that closeness.
Notice too who does the acting in this verse.
You want to live in the house of God; trouble comes, and He hides you where you have been living! There is not a word about me, or what I do; but He hides me. Where? Where my heart dwelt before!
Read it closely. The promise does not say God will take the trouble away.
Notice that there is no deliverance yet in this verse. It is not "in the time of trouble God will come in and take me out of it," but "he will hide me." It is not "he will quiet the winds and waves" — not a word about that... He carries us in His power. He hides us. He does not remove the difficulty. He gives me the upper hand over it, and His own power carries me through it... Should we pity the person in trouble, if Jehovah hides him in His pavilion?
So when trouble comes, the believer is not the one who has to act.
When trouble or difficulty comes, I am not running around looking for a way out. There I am, resting and quiet, and God is active. He hides me, He holds me up, He acts for me in the time of trouble.
The verse piles up images: a pavilion, the hidden inner part of the tent. One writer also notes the shift from "all the days of my life" in verse 4 to the day of trouble in verse 5.
David had said before, "all the days of my life:" now he says "in the time of trouble." Do we not learn from this that all the days of our lives are a time of trouble and testing? Because of this we continually need the secret of the presence of the Lord. David uses different words for it: "His temple," "His pavilion," "the secret of His tabernacle"... Linked with this is our being "set on high upon a rock." In God's presence we shall always find our feet planted on solid ground. In fact, Christ is the Rock, and though we may at times tremble on the Rock, yet the Rock never trembles.
The last clause adds something the hiding alone does not: height and permanence.
Dwelling in the house of Jehovah, and engrossed... with His beauty, he is really in a region outside of all trouble; and if it were possible for trouble to get into that divine circle of light and blessing, there is the action of Jehovah in concealing the one who has been drawn into His presence; He will hide him even in the secret, in the innermost recesses, of His tabernacle... "He shall set me up upon a rock" — upon an unchangeable foundation, one therefore which will ensure security and stability for ever.
The psalm speaks of a real sanctuary and real human enemies. One writer sees a wider picture in it.
The immediate application here is to human enemies, though the literal sanctuary gives... only a picture of spiritual truths of much wider range... God has indeed lifted us high on the rock-foundation of Christ's blessed work. In Him we have entered the heavenly sanctuary, safely hidden from the enemy... So the sanctuary is our safe retreat at all times. It is the place where the world takes its true shape for us, and its hold on us is loosened... Here, then, the head is lifted over all enemies, and the sacrifice of praise becomes the necessary outlet of a full and grateful heart.
- Desire first. The shelter of verse 5 is the house of verse 4. Trouble finds the believer already at home with God.
- Hidden, not removed. God does not promise to calm the waves here. He promises to hide you, so you go through the trouble instead of around it.
- Rest, because He acts. Every verb belongs to God: He hides, He holds me up, He acts for me. So the believer can rest.
- Rock under the shelter. Hiding gives safety. The rock lifts the head above enemies, and Christ the Rock never trembles.
- Praise as the outcome. From that place God lifts the head, and sacrifices of joy follow. Shelter ends in worship.
And now shall my head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me; and I will offer in his tent sacrifices of shouts of joy I will sing, yea, I will sing psalms unto Jehovah.
Psalm 27 has been about trust while enemies press in. Here the mood turns to song. When is the head lifted? Why is the singing done inside God's tent? And how can joy be a sacrifice?
The enemies are still there when the head goes up. One writer says their attack is the very thing that raises it.
The first part, verses 1 to 6, is the confidence of the believer — full confidence, whatever enemies there were. Enemies outside or oppressors inside — for the remnant of the Jews will find both against them — a host and war rising up, stir up no fear. In the time of trouble He would hide him. The attack of enemies would only be the occasion for lifting up his head above them. Then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
Everything up to this point was shelter, not rescue.
He does not remove the difficulty; He gives me superiority to it, and His own power carries me through it. He hides me in His shelter. Now we come to deliverance, and that is the last thing. All that I have been speaking of is not deliverance, but now we have it. Notice that the believer is never outside the dwelling-place of God. He dwells there; that is where the life of God, this blessed principle in us, abides.
The writers quoted here say "tabernacle" where the ESV says "tent." Both name God's dwelling-place. It is not only where the song happens. It is what makes the song possible.
The immediate application here is to human enemies, though the literal sanctuary gives only the picture of spiritual truths of much wider range. For us, the way of escape from spiritual foes is exactly what is indicated here! God has lifted us high upon the rock-foundation of Christ's blessed work. In Him we have entered the heavenly sanctuary, and there we are hidden from the enemy... So the sanctuary is our safe retreat at all times. It is the place where the world takes its true shape for us. There our entanglement with it is loosened, the darkness and mist disappear, sin is rebuked and banished, and the holiness of truth is found... Here the head is lifted up over all enemies, and the sacrifice of praise becomes the necessary relief of a full and grateful heart.
The lifting up is not a private comfort. It is public, and it is given for a use.
Set free from the fear of enemies and enjoying the presence of the Lord, the believer is supported in the time of trouble — "hidden" and "kept." In the future, when the trouble has passed, he will be exalted in public above all his enemies. He will use this place of glory for the praise of the Lord.
A sacrifice of joy can sound like a contradiction. One writer sets it beside the sacrifice of a broken spirit.
Strange as it may seem, this sacrifice does not clash with the sacrifice of a broken spirit. It is one of the lovely "contradictions" of the Scriptures that we can be "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." Yes, I think we can bring the sacrifice of a broken spirit and sacrifices of joy at the same time. And perhaps such offerings are especially acceptable to God — the joy and sorrow mingling.
Commentators also read the psalm as the song of Christ. One writer hears Him singing it in spirit while trouble closed in.
And now it was that, in spirit, He sang the twenty-seventh Psalm. The Lord was His light and His salvation — whom should He fear? He had just seen God's glory in the sanctuary. According to this Psalm, His longing was to dwell in that house of the Lord forever. It was a time of trouble, that is true. But in spirit His head was lifted up above His enemies. He was soon to offer sacrifices of joy in the tabernacle, and sing His praises to the Lord.
Others look ahead, to a deliverance still to come and two groups singing at once.
They long for the earthly sanctuary, we for our heavenly home. Then follows praise. Their heads will be lifted up. Israel will sing on earth when their earthly hope and deliverance has come, while the praises of His church fill the heavens above.
- Hidden first. God's shelter comes before any rescue. He never moves the believer out of His dwelling-place.
- Then lifted. The enemies are not cleared away in advance — their assault becomes the occasion for the head to rise.
- Lifted for a reason. Once the trouble has passed, the place of glory is used in public for the praise of the Lord.
- Costly singing. A sacrifice of joy can be brought at the same time as a broken spirit — sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.
- Still to come. Commentators hear this song in Christ in His time of trouble, and hear it still ahead — Israel singing on earth, the church filling heaven.