Jehovah, thy loving-kindness is in the heavens, and thy faithfulness [reacheth] unto the clouds.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Thy righteousness is like the high mountains; thy judgments are a great deep thou, Jehovah, preservest man and beast.
Psalm 36 sets two portraits side by side: man with no fear of God, and God Himself. Verse 6 sits in the middle of the second portrait. It holds three pictures: mountains, a great deep, and God's care for every living thing.
One writer sets out how the psalm is built:
The first four verses of the psalm describe man. Verses 5 to 9 set God before us. Verse 10 prays for the continued display of all that God is. Verses 11 and 12 pray for the removal of what man is. We only have to understand what man is and what God is to heartily agree with the prayers of the Psalmist.
The ESV calls them "the mountains of God." An older translation read "the great mountains," and put "the mountains of God" in its margin. One writer explains what that name adds:
"Your righteousness is like the great mountains." The margin reads, "the mountains of God (El)." That title means "The Mighty God." The word great does not refer to the mountains but to God. This statement reaches down to earth, and it involves the Son of God moving through this world in the moral elevation the mountains picture. Five times in Matthew's gospel we read of the Lord being on a mountain. Does this not assure us that, as He moved here as a man, His pathway through this world was one of moral elevation? This righteousness, seen in Him while He was here, showed itself in every step of His pathway.
Mountains stand unmoved. How can righteousness that firm go together with mercy?
Here is the absolute stability of His character, which does not compromise righteousness in the slightest degree. Who else could show pure mercy and perfect righteousness at the same time? But God proves His mercy and righteousness beautifully in the marvellous sacrifice of His own Son. There righteousness judged sin without any lessening of the judgment, so that He might show mercy to all who believe in this wonderful Saviour.
The second picture turns from what towers to what lies deep:
The unchanging principle of God's government in faithful love, His dealing in righteousness, is as firm and towering in strength as the mountains. His ways of judging and dealing are as deep but as mighty as the great deep. We cannot work out beforehand how or why. But He is working above the power of evil, and beyond the reach of small man, so that He can bring about His purposes of blessing through the malice of men.
Commentators differ on the reach of this phrase. Another reading takes the deep as the place Christ entered:
But if the righteousness of God was to reach us in blessing, another step was necessary… So we read of "a great deep." That is the place Christ went, in order to bring men into righteousness before God. The result of that stoop has secured preservation for man and beast. We know from Romans 8 that both man and the whole groaning creation will yet share in this recovery in the world to come.
Some read the last line as a promise that God will save every soul. One writer answers:
The reference is not to Christ's work, but to God's faithful care of His creatures, His children especially, in providence day by day. Where is the sense in reading the salvation of men's souls into the terms of the verse? Where is the agreement with other scriptures, which declare that God saves only those who believe?… Nothing here mentions Christ's death, even as a purchase, still less as redemption. It is a living God as Saviour in present labours and trials; and this goodness of His is real toward every child of man, especially toward believers.
Israel's law showed that same care. Every seventh year the farmers left the land unworked:
The land was to keep a Sabbath to the Lord that year… The farmer would still have full provision for his own needs and those of his household. But the cattle and the wild animals are God's creatures too. The Creator would care for them no less than for man, His intelligent creature… What the poor left, the animals of the field were to eat. The Lord preserves man and beast.
The opening verses describe an enemy with no fear of God. Here is how faith answers him:
Faced with this great trial the God-fearing man does not take the smallest step to injure his enemy, or call down vengeance on him. He finds comfort in turning to the Lord, and counting on His mercy and faithfulness.
- Height — "the mountains of God" carries God's own name. The word "great" belongs to Him, not to the mountains.
- Firmness — His righteousness never bends. At the cross it meets His mercy, and neither gives way.
- Depth — we cannot work out His judgments in advance. He works above the power of evil and beyond the reach of man.
- Breadth — "man and beast" points to God's daily care for His creatures, not to the salvation of every soul. That care is real toward all, and above all toward believers. Creation itself will yet share in the recovery.
- Rest — the man under attack does not strike back. He turns to the God whose righteousness towers and whose judgments run deep.
How precious is thy loving-kindness, O God! So the sons of men take refuge under the shadow of thy wings.
Psalm 36 sets two portraits side by side: a man with no fear of God in verses 1–4, and God Himself in verses 5–9. Verse 7 is the hinge where the psalm draws its conclusion — because of what God is, people come and hide under Him.
Some translations join the two halves of this verse with the word "therefore." The verse answers the lines just before it, which praise God's faithfulness. One writer traces the path from that faithfulness to our response:
The faithfulness of God! What a glorious fact this is, and how little we have grasped it. He must always be faithful to all that He is, and to all that He has said. He cannot deny Himself, nor can He deny the one who stakes everything on Him and the truth of His Word. That is why "the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings," as the psalm says. If our souls truly hold to the faithfulness of God, that is what we are bound to do. We see that He is wholly true, and so we should trust Him wholly.
The wings are a picture, not a literal thing. Scripture uses them for the cover a bird gives its young, and for the shelter David ran to when he was hunted:
When danger threatens her helpless chicks, the hen gathers them under her wings (Matthew 23:37). When David was fleeing from Saul, he took refuge in the shadow of the wings of his God (Psalm 57:1; see also Psalm 36:7; Psalm 61:4; Psalm 91:4).
Older translations say "lovingkindness" where the ESV says "steadfast love." That word shows the spirit in which God gives His shelter, and it widens the trouble the shelter covers:
There is another expression of great beauty, often found in the English Psalms and sometimes standing next to the one we are looking at: loving-kindness. It is a linked thought, and it shows the spirit, the grace, in which our God gives His protection… The tenderness of divine affection is part of His care for us. Comfort comes with the protection… An overwhelmed heart needs refuge, and so does the person hunted by enemies.
The same writer points out that English Bibles render this word in more than one way:
The same Hebrew word is also translated "mercy."
Some translations read "how precious is your mercy" rather than "how excellent." The sense of the word is drawn out as rarity — there is nothing else like it anywhere, and that is exactly what makes it inviting:
"How precious is Your loving-kindness, O God!" (v. 7). Such loving-kindness is so uncommon that you find it nowhere else. So it gives us every encouragement to put our trust under the shadow of His wings. What a wonderful place of comfort and rest!
The psalm has just described human corruption. Yet the ones who now take refuge are the children of mankind — those same sinful people:
What is more, God has revealed His loving-kindness to man. So, despite their sin, the children of men can put their trust under the shadow of His wings.
Trust is the first thing this kindness produces in us, and God's goodness — not fear — draws it out:
The first effect in us, when we came to appreciate this lovingkindness, was that we put our trust in God. Being under the shadow of His wings means we are safe forever. No wonder the apostle writes, "the goodness of God leads you to repentance" (Romans 2:4).
Verse 7 does not stop at safety. The next verse turns the covering into a feast, and the One who shielded becomes the thing enjoyed:
What we find now is not just a defence against malice that has no conscience. We find the positive goodness of the One in whom that defence is found. The children of men put their trust under the shadow of God's wings because His lovingkindness is excellent… But this carries the believer even further. The goodness that has sheltered and protected him becomes his portion.
- Contrast. The wicked man of verses 1–4 has no fear of God. Verse 7 answers him with a God so faithful that trusting Him is the only sensible response.
- Character. We do not hide in God because we feel safe. We hide there because He cannot deny Himself.
- Covering. "Wings" pictures a bird over its young — cover for the helpless, and the shelter David ran to when Saul hunted him.
- Comfort. "Lovingkindness" — also translated "mercy" — names the tenderness behind the shelter. It meets an overwhelmed heart as well as a hunted one.
- Consequence. Those who come are sinners, drawn by goodness, not driven by fear. The shelter they run to becomes the portion they feed on.
They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house; and thou wilt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures.
This verse comes straight after the picture of people taking refuge under God's wings. Shelter now becomes a meal. The God who protects also feeds and gives drink. Older translations render it "the fatness of your house" and "the river of your pleasures," and commentators ask what that house supplies and where the river comes from.
Shelter is not where this psalm stops. What guarded the trusting soul now becomes what he lives on.
The goodness which has sheltered and protected him becomes his portion. Such is the blessed effect of being entirely cast on God and driven away from man. Brought under the shadow of God's wings, they enjoy the fatness of His dwelling place... There are joys and pleasures that belong to God's house, yes, to God Himself. This is characteristic of the joy of the saints, and can only be when we are made partakers of the divine nature.
Both words are pictures. The second one holds a surprise in the Hebrew.
God's house is the place where He dwells, and fatness signifies fullness of supply. There must of course be an infinite supply of all that is good in the dwelling place of God. From there flows what the Psalmist calls "the river of Your pleasures." The word for pleasures is really Eden, only it is in the plural — "The river of Your Edens." The Eden of Genesis 2:8 had a river, but outside it parted and became four heads. It was one Eden with many rivers. The psalm speaks of many Edens with one river.
In the offerings, the fat was always God's own share. That is what makes this verse so striking.
In the details of the offerings we learn that the fat was always for God; it was His portion of that which speaks of Christ. So we are brought to enjoy the Father's pleasure in His well-beloved Son. Surely this is the place where desire is satisfied. He who is the "bread of God" is also the "bread of life." He is food for God and food for His people... Bread sustains and water satisfies. In the house of God we have both: full support and full satisfaction.
This promise is not for everybody. It is for the people of the previous verse, who took refuge under His wings. That limit says nothing mean about God.
He is not, as Satan insinuated in Genesis 3, a God who withholds from His creatures what is for their good and blessing, who wants to hold them back. On the contrary, He wants to fill them full out of His own fullness, so that they will be "abundantly satisfied." But only those who put their trust in Him receive this full satisfaction. Those who do not trust Him would not want it.
One writer traces the river back to what God settled before time began.
Does not this picture speak of the eternal purposes of God, settled before the foundation of the world? No evil of man, and no failure of the saints, can touch them. In every age, despite all the power of the enemy and the evil of men, God is carrying out His pleasure to have a people for His own glory, by Christ Jesus... This river of God's pleasure flows from eternity to eternity, and our souls are given to drink of its blessedness as we pass through time.
Earlier the psalm has human malice in view. Inside God's house that malice drops out of sight.
In God's house, man, and his malice, are forgotten, and everything speaks of God and His glory... For the Christian the Father's house is where Christ has gone. No shadow of death will ever fall on that home. Nothing that defiles can enter it, and love and holiness fill the scene.
Commentators also read the promise forward. One writer applies it to Israel, who left the land and still look to be satisfied in God's house.
Had the nation only valued its blessing, it would never have left its land... Psalm 36 had announced that the righteous would be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of God's house... They are not looking now for a taste of goodness, a slight sense of what God could give. They look to be fully satisfied, as Jeremiah so beautifully put it.
- Trust first. Verse 7 puts people under His wings; verse 8 fills them. The shelter comes first, and only those who take it want what follows.
- Fatness means fullness. God's house is where He lives, and there can be no shortage of anything good there.
- God's own portion. The fat belonged to God in the offerings — so the food He shares is His own delight in His Son.
- One river, many Edens. Eden had one garden and four rivers. Here many Edens feed one river, and it runs from eternity to eternity.
- Malice forgotten. Man and his malice have no place inside the house. There, everything speaks of God.
For with thee is the fountain of life in thy light shall we see light.
The psalm has just described God's house, its rich food, and a river of His delights. Now it gives the reason under all that plenty: life has a fountain and light has a source, and both are with God.
Up to this line the psalm has described what God is for His people in trouble. Here it turns.
Up to this point it has spoken rather of what God is for us, seen as shelter, protection and comfort — in a word, a resource. But it has brought us into the rich plenty of His house and the rivers of His pleasures. Now it speaks of what God is in His own being as blessing. What is in us is here seen in Him as its source. "With You is," says the psalm; "it shall be in him," says the Lord, of the Christian.
So what is this life?
With Him is the fountain of life — a phrase of great weight, though never fully revealed until Christ came. Life is a living connection with the source of blessing, or at least a living enjoyment of His favour.
The word "fountain" points to a place. Life has only one such place.
This fountain is with God and nowhere else. That holds for life in its lower forms in the natural world around us, and for life in its higher forms in the world of spirit.
That word matters most to someone who is empty and thirsty.
God can fill the hungry soul. "With You is the fountain of life." The cistern may be empty and cannot fill us. But the fountain is filling. The fullness of God is an infinite fullness. It knows neither bounds nor bottom.
The exact title is rare, and it ties this psalm to two other books.
The Bible speaks of the Fountain of Life only four times, although a fountain of life is often mentioned. One of them is here in Psalm 36:9. Twice in Jeremiah we have this beautiful title (Jer. 2:13 and Jer. 17:13). The fourth comes in Revelation 21:6.
The psalmist could say where the fountain was. He could not yet say that it had appeared.
The life spoken of is life of the highest character. The apostle John goes on to say, "The life was made manifest." Life, as we know it in creation, may take many forms. But only one life deserves the name THE life. That is "the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us." The Fountain of life truly was with God. Since the Psalmist's day it has all come into full view in the Son, who became man.
The second half of the verse follows the same pattern. God does not just hold light. He sends it out.
God shines out, as well as being a source. He has life in Himself, but with Him is the fountain of it. He is light, but He shines forth, He gives light. So with Christ: in Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And even we — Christ is our life, and we are light in the Lord. In the middle of darkness and trial, this is the confidence: the Lord in grace was a source of life, and in His light they would see light.
Light adds nothing to a thing. It shows the thing as it is. What it shows can hurt before it helps.
Light shows everything just as it is. It may be painful to have our illusions stripped away and to discover our wretched condition. Still, what it uncovers is of infinite and unspeakable value to us, because the true light lets me see not only what I am, but what God is.
The fountain stays with God, but it is not sealed off. Three gifts arrive together.
The fountain of life is with God, but He has not held it back; it is flowing toward us all. It is life in the power of the Holy Spirit, "living water" as our Lord called it. Both life and light are available to us in the power of the Spirit of God. Added to this is "lovingkindness." Who but the Son could have made life, light and love available to us? — He who came down from heaven to do the will of Him who sent Him.
- Source. The fountain is with God. We never own life on our own, and the psalm names the one place to draw it from.
- Supply. A cistern can run dry; a fountain keeps filling, so the fullness offered here has no floor and no edge.
- Shown. The psalmist knew where the fountain was. John announces that the life with the Father has appeared in the Son.
- Sight. God does not only hold light, He sheds it — and in it we see two things at once, what we are and what He is.
- Stream. The fountain is not held back but flowing toward us, carrying life, light and love in the power of the Spirit.