(To the chief Musician. Of the sons of Korah. On Alamoth. A song.) God is our refuge and strength, a help in distresses, very readily found.
Psalm 46 names what God is before it names anything that threatens. Everything else in the psalm follows from that one fact.
The order of the words matters. Before any danger is described, the psalm puts God at the front of the sentence.
The Psalm begins well. The word GOD is the first sound that breaks the silence. No wonder the next words are "our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Here is a strong tower to run to for safety. Here is unlimited power to calm the heart when danger is terrifying. And it comes just when it is needed.
That focus guards against a subtle mistake: leaning on our own trust instead of on God.
The psalm does not celebrate natural courage. It does not even celebrate faith. It celebrates the greatness and total reliability of God: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear." What God is drives the fear away. He is greater and nearer than every circumstance. He is greater than every foe. He is "God for us." We may dwell too much on faith and lose sight of God; we may even put our trust in prayer instead of in the God to whom we pray.
The claim is not just a general truth about God. It is personal, and one small word carries it.
We do well to notice the little word "our" in the opening verse. It is true that God is a refuge. But believers can say, "God is our refuge." The world has its own people it looks to for protection and guidance in time of trouble. Believers have in God their refuge from the storms and distresses of life. God is also our "strength" when we are weak, and "a very present help in trouble." A closer translation is, "a help in distress that is very easy to find."
You only run to a refuge if something is chasing you. In Israel's law, a person who had killed someone could escape to certain towns and be safe from the relative who came to avenge the death. That picture stands behind the next lines — and the help they describe is not always rescue out of the trouble.
A refuge is a place to flee to from danger that is known and coming. A sinner flees to Christ for refuge because he feels the danger is upon him. Christ is everlasting security from the judgment that is coming. He is the true city of refuge, safe from the avenger of blood (Num. 35:13, etc.). He is also the strength of His people in their conscious weakness. He does not always take us out of our troubles. He holds us up in them and carries us through them, which is far better.
"Very present" says something about availability that no human helper can match.
Notice, He is "a very present help" — One always at hand. This cannot always be said of human helpers. In a time of distress your truest friend might be on the other side of the world. He is out of reach just when you want him most. This could never be true of our God.
There is a way to shut out help this near: rushing to arrange our own rescue.
"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." … Human efforts shut this help out. … No human planning is ever right. … In His own time and way, God will come in. … Such efforts show a lack of faith and a restless heart, and our planning is nothing more than our own nature at work.
The psalm's heading names its singers: young women, the people least able to defend themselves.
The title of the psalm is remarkable: "A song upon Alamoth." … Someone has said that the singing of this choir of young women shows something: even the weakest of them may sing in a day of danger without fear, because the mighty One is on their side. Those who know they are weak can sing this song of faith. Their whole strength is in the Lord.
One writer moves from what God is for a whole people to what He is for one person.
What God can do for a whole people in extreme danger, He can do for one person in his small circumstances. The God who is enough for the whole universe can care for a sparrow, and the God of Psalm 46 is enough for you and for me.
- Refuge — a place to run to only makes sense if the danger is real; the verse assumes trouble rather than denying it.
- Strength — what God is, not how firmly we believe, drives the fear away. The song is given to the weak, whose whole strength is in the Lord.
- Present — always at hand, unlike the best human helper, who may be far away when most needed.
- Ours — the world has its protectors; believers can say, "God is our refuge."
- Trouble — He may hold us up inside the trouble instead of lifting us out of it, and our own planning only shuts that help out.
Therefore will we not fear though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the heart of the seas;
The verse refuses to fear, then names the worst that could happen. The ground gives way, and the mountains slide into the sea. Commentators read this in two ways: as real upheaval, and as a picture of a collapsing world order. They agree on why the fear is gone.
Read as symbols, the two halves of the verse stand opposed: what cannot move, and what never stops moving.
The mountains stand for stability, for strength, for what cannot be moved. The sea is restless. It cannot rest. Its waters throw up mud and filth.
The same picture fits human affairs, where lawless crowds swallow settled authority:
The mountains stand for ordered authority and government. They are the power that controls lawless men and movements. The sea stands for uncontrolled crowds of people. They rise against ordered government and overturn everything stable.
Where the ESV reads "the earth gives way," older translations read "the earth be removed," and the writers below work from that older wording. Two things are read in more than one way: which "earth," and what kind of removal. One reading ties both to Israel, and takes the sea as the Gentile nations — the nations outside Israel:
"Even though the earth be removed." We may translate this as "the land" rather than "the earth," because it speaks of the nation of Israel, removed from their homeland for centuries. The mountains carried into the middle of the sea picture the sea of the Gentiles absorbing the authorities in Israel (Rev. 17:15).
Another takes "removed" as "changed," and reads the whole scene as governments falling among nations in uproar:
The earth is removed, or "changed." The mountains stand for stable governments (Matt. 21:21), and they are being overturned among nations in turmoil. The masses roar in revolt against every form of constitutional government. That strikes terror into people's hearts, as they fear and watch for what is coming on the earth (Luke 21:26).
Commentators differ here. Another writer takes this part of the Psalm as the shaking of nature itself, and leaves the overthrow of hostile powers to the rest of the Psalm:
This part of the Psalm speaks of the convulsions of nature. Facing them, they will not fear, because they are told that God the Creator is their refuge and strength. The other parts of the Psalm celebrate the overthrow of the hostile powers ranged against them, and there the name for God is Jehovah of hosts.
The verse opens with "therefore." The reason came first, in verse 1. The Psalm's very first word carries it.
Where can people in distress find help and safety? The answer is GOD. How does Psalm 46 begin? It begins with the word GOD… This will be the confidence of the hard-pressed remnant of Israel in a future day. Circumstances then will be enough to make the bravest heart tremble. GOD will be their Refuge. What angry wave of the sea can reach that Refuge? GOD will be their Strength. What power on earth or in hell can overwhelm that Strength?
This confidence is not nerve. It grows from being sure of God's favour:
The assurance of God's favour drives out fear; perfect love banishes it. How often the Psalms show this complete absence of fear! There is no fear of the enemy, none when everything shakes, none before the threats of the flesh and of man.
Some read the Psalm as the words of Israel's faithful few in a coming time of terrible trouble. That setting is what makes it speak to smaller troubles:
During this time two-thirds of the nation in all the land will be cut off and die (Zech. 13:8). The remaining third will find encouragement in the language this psalm puts in their mouths: "Therefore we will not fear." The godly can have such confidence while facing the greatest horror the world has ever seen. How much more should we, when the troubles we may face are so much smaller!
- Refuge first. The Psalm opens with the word "God." Everything in verse 2 hangs on that. The reason comes before the risk.
- Mountains. They stand for what looks permanent: strength, stability, settled authority. Here even they move.
- Sea. The restless waters picture crowds that never settle. The mountains sink into them, and the unstable swallows the immovable.
- Reading. Some take the verse as the shaking of nature itself. Others see governments falling among raging nations, with "earth" as Israel's land and "removed" as "changed."
- Result. Israel's faithful few will say "we will not fear" while facing the worst the world will ever see. Smaller troubles should not shake those who have the same God.