Psalms 43:3–5

Psalm 43 adds to the psalm before it. Here we have the ungodly nation, and the deceitful and unjust man, the wicked one, though the Gentile oppressor is still there (v. 2). Because the Jewish nation is now in the scene, the return to God's holy hill, tabernacle and altar is more before the mind of the remnant. Verses 3 and 4 form the groundwork of the book.

He asks that the gloom around him may not deceive him, and that he may not judge by appearances, but that God's light and truth may lead him. If he judged by circumstances and sight, they would carry him far from God. God's light and truth would lead him to God's "holy hill" and God's "tabernacles."

Light does everything. If anyone is to be turned to God, only light can turn him. The light and truth of God will lead the soul to Him, but He must send them out.

This psalm begins with an appeal to God for what he so wants, and it says how that can be brought about. Then, he says, "I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy: yes, upon the harp will I praise You, O God, my God" (v. 4). The LORD was truly his God. He held that fast as a support for his soul through all his wandering, and he was sure it would be shown before everyone. Now in prayer, he would yet praise his God on the harp.

God's light and truth will be gloriously displayed when the true Christ is revealed from heaven. With the breath of His lips He will destroy the wicked one. Deliverance will then have come for the godly ones among the people, as in a moment. Israel's holy places will be restored and their worship resumed, never again to be interrupted.

God's light and His truth are always at work in the life of a believer. Often we do not notice it, and we want it to be clearer in our experience. He also asks that they bring him to God's holy hill and tabernacle. This will certainly be true, though the time seems long.

This is how the psalmist cried as his soul panted after God, and God has answered his cry. He had planned to answer before time began, so that everyone who sought Him might find their full joy in Him. He would do it in a way no human mind could ever have imagined. The Gospel of John tells how. There we see the height from which "the light" and "the truth" have come, and the greatness of the One who was sent to be both. We see the depths of shame into which He went to save us, and the triumphant way in which He leads us — not to God's altars only, but to His very home and heart.

Psalm 43 adds to the psalm before it. Here it is the ungodly nation, the Jews, who are before us, though the Gentile oppressor is still there. Since the Jewish nation is now in the scene, the return to God's holy hill, tabernacle and altar is more on the mind of the remnant. Verses 3 and 4 form the groundwork of the book.

The path to God is by the altar, and we must note this carefully. The altar suggests worship, but not only that. It teaches sacrifice, and offerings, and approach by blood; for in actual fact there is no access to God at all except on that ground. So we read in Hebrews 10:19, "we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus." Long ago, the High Priest never dared come into the most holy place except once a year — and note, "not without blood." Now the Christian has the right by "the blood of Jesus" to enter the Holiest, the immediate presence of God, at all times!

The heart cannot adore One it does not know. The heart begins its knowledge of God by realising its guilt, and by the sweet assurance that the blood of Jesus has put it all away. This sets the conscience at rest for ever and clears away all its dread. Then, once the heart values the gifts, the Giver becomes everything. The more the soul knows Him, the more deeply it bows down in adoration before Him. "God my exceeding joy," says the Psalmist. "We joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ," says the Apostle.

God has answered his cry. He had planned to do it before time began, so that everyone who sought Him might find their full joy in Him. And He planned it in a way that could never have entered any human mind. The Gospel of John tells out how He has done it. There we see the height from which "the light" and "the truth" have come, and the greatness of the One sent to be both. We see the depths of shame He went into to save us, and the triumphant way He leads us — not just to God's altars, but to His very home and heart. Jesus, who is "the light" and "the truth," has revealed the Father so wonderfully that He has become infinitely attractive to us. He has become our exceeding joy.

"God, my God." This speaks of redemption accomplished, and known, and which can never be undone. For how did He become his God? He redeemed Israel of old at the Red Sea by the arm of His power. From that day on He became their God, and they became His people. That, as we have said, never alters. Redemption, whether by power or by blood, brings the redeemed into a condition that nothing can change.

The future is as clearly positive as this, so why should we be downcast now? In fact, "on the harp I will praise You, O God, my God." The harp, with its ten strings, speaks of the full range of worship. It takes in every aspect of our lives, so that our souls are filled with the joy and adoration of the Lord.

No one who reads these two Psalms with any attention can fail to see the close connection between them. The expression of Psalms 42:5, 11, 43:5 shows that. The soul is cast down, but the godly one would encourage himself with the assurance that he shall yet praise God.

Still the conflict is real; experience is against experience. God is his Rock; and yet God has, as far as experience goes, forsaken him. He brings this to God Himself, and with it the bitterness of the enemy's oppression. The enemy taunts him with this forsaking of God, and he has no answer to give. It crushes his bones, as he says, making his strength collapse at the thought. Yet even while he says it, faith rallies. It turns defeat into victory with its old self-rebuke, "Why are you cast down?" And he states his former confidence again.

But the memory of past blessings enjoyed leads the soul to rebuke its present discouragement. It encourages the soul to hope in God for the future. What God is in Himself, not what we may chance to feel Him in this or that moment to be, that is our hope. "My soul… hope in God." Looking beyond the present gloom the godly man can say, "I shall yet praise Him for the health of His countenance." The enemy is against him, but the face of God is toward him. And if God is for him, who can be against him?

So he says now, Who is the health of my countenance — his countenance reflects in joy the outshining of God's in love — and my God. Distress, and the loss of all that was given him — even religious blessings — had cast his heart upon God. It had drawn him to look to God as the only source of joy. And with that came the confidence that must spring up when the soul is near God, known in His own relationship by faith. It cannot be otherwise. There may be delay before full peace of heart and enjoyment, if the Lord sees that purifying and sifting are still needed. But there will be a leaning on Him in trust.

So the future is settled, with its unspeakable joy and blessing. The psalmist may well ask why he is cast down, and why his soul is disquieted (v. 5). There is no proper reason for his depression. He realizes this and advises himself to "hope in God," for his trial is of short duration.

He asks that the surrounding gloom may not deceive him, and that he may not judge by appearances. He asks instead that God's light and truth may lead him. Judging according to circumstances and sight, he would be led far from God.

Meanwhile, there is plenty of comfort in these Psalms for the Christian who is afflicted and battered about. "Why are you cast down, O my soul?" Such words suit well the spirit of reviving faith, in the stress and heavy sadness of the day of conflict. One believing look at Christ wins back the firm, settled position of acceptance and peace for the saint who is knocked down and discouraged.