(To the chief Musician. Of David. A Psalm a Song.) Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered, and let them that hate him flee before him.
These words were not new: they were the cry spoken over the ark of the covenant whenever Israel broke camp in the desert. So the verse raises two questions — what happens when God stands up, and whose enemies are scattered?
Commentators trace the opening line to the words Moses spoke over the ark as the camp set out.
The psalm begins with the words used when the camp broke up in the wilderness under God's guidance, with the pillar rising up and going before them. So it is now. God takes this place at the head of His people. The psalm bursts in with great majesty.
Moses and the psalmist do not stand in the same place. One asks; the other already sees the outcome and describes it.
Moses could ask God to do this when the ark of the Lord was lifted up for each journey in the wilderness. The psalmist uses similar language, but with one difference. Moses asks God to arise so that the result may come. The psalmist waits in confidence for it to happen, and the next two verses describe the outcome for the wicked and for the righteous.
Translations differ here. Some read the line as a prayer ("Let God arise"), others as a statement of fact ("God shall arise").
People often demand that God do something about the state of the world. One writer notes that they do not realize what such an answer would cost. He is also exact about whose enemies are scattered.
Again and again men ask, Can there be a God? If so, why does He not rise up and do something? They do not realize what it would mean if God granted their wish. But the day will come when God steps in. God will arise and His enemies will be scattered. HIS enemies — mark that well; not yours or mine or Britain's or Ethiopia's or even Israel's. His enemies will be like smoke driven before the fire.
Psalm 67 had asked God to be gracious and bless. Psalm 68 asks for something else first.
The Spirit now carries us into the wide scene of God's glory on the earth. The psalm calls for God's power to bring it about. It is no longer, "God be gracious to us, and bless us," but, "Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered." Power intervenes to bring in the blessing, which would not be possible in any other way.
The psalm does not leave "God arisen" as raw force. It goes straight on to describe the kind of God this is.
But the psalm goes on to unfold the character of the One who acts in this way. He is a father of the fatherless and a judge of widows. He settles the lonely in families, and the rebellious in a dry land. Judgment is the true and gracious deliverance of the blessed God. And now His people can celebrate this goodness.
So the scattering of His enemies and the care of the helpless are one and the same work.
Most of the psalm looks ahead. But one writer hears this line already answered on the morning Jesus rose from the dead.
"Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered!" These are great words. If the disciples had been full of faith and understanding, these words might have been on their lips. They were waiting for that glorious first day of the week when Jesus rose from the dead. At that moment they had neither the faith nor the understanding. But as the countless holy angels looked down on the grave of Joseph of Arimathea, that is surely what they wanted to say — and that is what they saw done. He was indeed crucified in weakness. But He came out of the tomb by the power of God — a power that was His own.
- Arise — The verse takes up Moses' cry over the ark as the camp set out. The picture is God standing up and going ahead of His people.
- Assurance — Moses asked for the result; the psalmist already describes it. The prayer has become a certainty.
- His enemies — The ones scattered are God's opponents, not ours. The verse is not a weapon for our quarrels.
- Then blessing — Power steps in first, because the blessing could not come any other way. Psalm 67 asks for grace; Psalm 68 asks for the power that brings it in.
- Already begun — The great intervention is still ahead. Yet one writer hears this line already answered on resurrection morning, when Jesus came out of the tomb by the power of God.
As smoke is driven, thou wilt drive them away; as wax melteth before the fire, the wicked shall perish at the presence of God.
The verse gives two pictures of the same moment: smoke caught by the wind, and wax set near a flame. Both show what happens to God's enemies when He stands up. But who are these enemies? When does it happen? Can a Christian pray for it?
Smoke has no weight to resist the wind. Wax has no firmness to resist heat. One writer explains who these enemies are and why they cannot stand:
Some people take advantage of the principles of the first creation to build up their own self-importance. In this way they show themselves enemies of God. They will be scattered and flee away, like mere smoke driven by the wind, or wax melting before the fire. The wicked cannot endure the presence of God. But the righteous will have reason for great joy.
Notice what does the work in the verse. It is not an army or a weapon. It is a presence.
The psalm opens with words Moses used. He said them each time the ark set out in the wilderness. But the mood has changed:
Moses could ask God to do this when the ark of the Lord was lifted up for each journey in the wilderness. The psalmist here uses similar language, but with a difference. Moses asks God to arise so that the desired result may come. The psalmist waits in confidence for it to happen. In the next two verses he describes what the outcome will be for the wicked and for the righteous.
The same confidence shows in the wording. Older translations read the line as a plea. It can also carry a promise of what God will do:
"As smoke is driven away, drive," or "You shall drive."... This is the contrast that follows between the wicked and the righteous.
People often demand that God do something about evil. One writer asks whose enemies these are:
Again and again men keep asking, Can there be a God? If so, why does He not rise up and do something? They do not realise what the fulfilment of their desire would involve. The day will come, however, when a divine intervention will take place. God will arise and His enemies will be scattered. HIS enemies, note it well; not yours or mine or Britain's or Ethiopia's or even Israel's. His enemies will be like smoke driven before the fire.
The melting is not cruelty. It is judgment. One writer explains why God cannot leave evil in charge:
God cannot let evil rule... He comes as Judge... There is a judgment of the living, as well as of the dead.
Another writer describes the same event as the end of a long conflict, settled in one stroke:
It is the conflict between good and evil that is approaching its crisis. Ages of effort to end it have failed. Now it will all come down to one sharp, decisive encounter. Like wax before the fire, the foes shall melt away before the presence of God. But the righteous shall be glad and exult, yes, leap for joy.
Commentators differ here. One writer draws a firm line, and puts words like these on the far side of it:
The Christian is taught by example and by command to pray for his enemies and to return good for evil. So how can he use language like this?... These and similar passages prove the point. Christians cannot use the Psalms consistently in their own devotion, because they contain so much that is the opposite of grace.
Yet the psalm is not sealed off from the present. One writer points out that Paul applied this psalm to Christ already risen and ascended:
As we have seen, the apostle Paul found that these words... had an application to the triumph won by the Lord Jesus at His first coming, through death, resurrection and ascension into glory. Many details in the psalm can only refer to what will happen at His second coming. But verse 18 refers especially to the first coming, and we may apply verse 1 in the same way.
- Presence. The wicked are not out-fought. They cannot stand where God is. Smoke and wax have nothing in them that can hold against wind and fire.
- Presence promised. Moses asked God to rise; the psalmist already knows He will. The prayer has hardened into a certainty.
- Presence targeted. They are His enemies — not ours, not any nation's. People who demand that God act do not always see what His acting would mean.
- Presence delayed, not cancelled. God will not let evil rule for ever. Ages of conflict end in one decisive encounter, and He judges the living as well as the dead.
- Presence enjoyed. The same nearness that melts the wicked makes the righteous leap for joy. And Paul applied this psalm to Christ, already risen and ascended.
But the righteous shall rejoice they shall exult before God and be glad with joy.
The psalm opens with God rising up: His enemies scatter like smoke, while those left standing before Him overflow with joy. So why does the same presence of God destroy one group and delight the other?
The first three verses are the whole psalm in miniature. The same power that clears the field also produces the joy of verse 3.
The argument of this magnificent Psalm is contained in the first three verses. It is a grand and lofty celebration of the majesty of God, sung by the people He has taught to praise Him, as the sanctified vessels of His mercy. God defeats His enemies in righteous judgment by the same mighty power of holiness and truth. That power establishes in His presence the acceptable people of His choice, with an exceeding joy (verses 1-3).
The wicked and the righteous meet God in the same place. Only the outcome differs. Elohim, below, is the Hebrew name that the ESV renders "God."
"As wax melts in the presence of fire, let the wicked perish in the presence of Elohim." "And let the righteous be glad: let them rejoice in the presence of Elohim; let them be glad with joy." This is the contrast of the wicked and the righteous.
Verse 2 does not describe a fair fight. Smoke cannot resist wind; wax cannot resist fire. What melts is the self-importance people build for themselves.
Some people take advantage of the principles of the first creation to build up their own self-importance. In this way they show themselves enemies of God. They will be scattered and flee away (v. 1), like mere smoke driven by the wind, or wax melting before the fire. The wicked cannot endure the presence of God. The righteous, though, will have reason to rejoice exceedingly (v. 3).
The psalm's opening words come from the wilderness, where Moses spoke them each time the ark moved on. The tone, though, has shifted since then.
Moses could ask God to do this when the ark of the Lord was lifted up for each journey in the wilderness. The psalmist uses similar language, but with a difference. Moses asks God to arise so that the desired result may come. The psalmist waits in confidence for it to happen. In the two following verses he describes what the outcome will be to the wicked and to the righteous.
The verse piles up three words for gladness. It is the response to a long conflict that has come to an end.
It is the conflict between good and evil that is approaching its crisis. The work of ages to end it has long been ineffective. It will now come down to one sharp, decisive encounter. Like wax before the fire, the foes shall melt away before the presence of God. But the righteous shall be glad and exult, yes, leap for joy.
Many readers set God's judgment against His kindness. The psalm joins the two: the God who scatters His enemies is also the father of the fatherless.
The righteous may be glad and rejoice before God, yes, exceedingly rejoice. He will appear to the shame of the mighty wicked, and the righteous poor will be glorified. The psalm then unfolds the character of Him who acts in this way, and it is beautiful. He is a father of the fatherless, a judge of widows. He makes the solitary to dwell in families, the rebellious in a dry land. Judgment is the true and gracious deliverance of the blessed God. And now His people can celebrate this goodness.
- Presence. The phrase "before God" is the hinge of the verse. The wicked perish there; the righteous rejoice there.
- Power. One power drives smoke away, melts wax, and settles God's people in joy.
- Certainty. Moses prayed for God to arise. The psalmist waits for it, so verse 3 reads like a report, not a hope.
- Overflow. Three words for gladness in one line: the righteous are glad, they exult, they leap for joy.
- Rescue. Judgment removes the oppressor, so judgment is rescue. The God who scatters His enemies is a father to the fatherless.
Sing unto God, sing forth his name; cast up a way for him that rideth in the deserts his name is Jah; and rejoice before him.
Psalm 68 opens with the cry Israel used when the ark set out: a prayer that God would rise and scatter His enemies. Verse 4 turns that march into music, and it raises three questions: who rides, what His name means, and what His people must do.
One writer ties the opening cry to the words Moses spoke as the ark set out:
Psalm 68 begins with words that remind us of the wilderness days when God went out with His people. "Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered, let those who hate Him flee before Him." The same One is celebrated in this psalm, rightly called a song. He is the One Moses spoke to when the ark set out on its journeys: "Rise up, Jehovah, and let Your enemies be scattered." Moses speaks of the effects that follow Jehovah's rising up. This psalm looks ahead and sees those effects carried out.
The Hebrew name in this line is Jah. The ESV renders it "the LORD," and older Bibles did the same nearly everywhere — with this verse as the exception:
There is a contraction of Jehovah into Jah, also translated in the Authorised Version by LORD, except in Psalm 68:4, where the psalm urges Israel to sing to God and "extol Him by His name JAH." Jah signifies the absolute supremacy of the self-existing One, whereas Jehovah was the name made known to Israel, and on which they could count.
Commentators differ on whether Jah is simply a shortened form. One argues from places where both names stand side by side that each carries its own weight:
As "Jehovah" is used for the name of God in relation with His people, His name of moral government in general, so "Jah" appears to express His intrinsic being. There is therefore great force in combining it with His name of relationship... Jah then is God in His absolute being, the Self-existent; Jehovah in His relative and continuous character, the God of ages especially in connection with the sons of Israel.
The ESV reads "deserts" here, where some older Bibles read "heavens." That word points to one stretch of ground:
The correct rendering of verse 4 is "Sing to God, sing forth His name, cast up a way for Him that rides in the deserts" (not heavens)... The word used for deserts (araboth) refers to the regions south of Jerusalem, Jordan and the Dead Sea. The One who comes as the glorious King is He who has passed through the scenes of death and has the power to lead from death to life.
One writer takes that geography as a picture of human helplessness:
The word means a "parched, dry place"... Death is in itself the stamp of man's condition, his removal from the place which through sin he has forfeited, and so, if there is no remedy, from the face of God. But when a man comes to realise this, and enters the dry, parched place, he finds One who moves there. That One is sovereign over difficulties that look impossible to overcome.
The verse has two readings. Some translations tell the people to build a road for God; the ESV has them "lift up a song." One writer takes the road reading, and his road-builders are singers:
God is now seen as beginning His triumphant march, and as in Jehoshaphat's successful war, the singers go at the front of the army. They are to cast up the way before the advancing King. This, of course, is spiritual preparation... The spirit of praise is the spirit of power. The joy of what God is, is holiness itself. It is the atmosphere of heaven. It will allow nothing that goes against the character of the One it proclaims by His name Jah — the One who is, the great Reality.
Not everyone takes the verb that way. One writer weighed the "prepare the way" reading and set it aside:
"Sing to Elohim, praise His name, make your triumph in Him that rides" — or "rode" — "in the deserts in JAH, His name; exult in His presence."... "Make His way ready" is a well-known expression, but I am sure it is not the sense here. This recognises Elohim (God) as the JAH (Jehovah) that was with them in the wilderness — "I AM has sent me to you."
The psalm does not leave Him in the low places:
At the start He rides upon the Araboth, the places of man's need and extremity. Now He rides upon the heavens of heavens, high over all created things. Through all He sends out His voice of power, making Himself known in word and deed as Lord of all.
- March. The verse belongs to a God on the move. The psalm opens with the cry used when the ark set out, so this singing is marching music.
- Name. The singers praise One named Jah, the self-existing God. The ESV prints "the LORD"; older English Bibles kept the short name Jah in this verse only.
- Deserts. The road runs through the araboth, the parched, low ground of death. He rides where human resources run out.
- Road. Praise casts up the way. Joy in what God is clears His road, though commentators differ: the verb may mean "prepare His way" or "triumph in Him."
- Heights. The Rider of the deserts ends the psalm on the highest heavens. Same Person, same power, now high over all.
A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.
Psalm 68 opens with God rising up to scatter His enemies, and the whole song is a march of triumph. Yet the first thing this song says about the conquering God is not His power. It is His tenderness toward the orphan and the widow.
The psalm opens with the words used when Israel's camp set out in the wilderness. The God who marches at the head of His people is then given two gentle titles.
It begins with the words used when the camp broke up in the wilderness under God's guidance. The pillar rose up and went ahead of them. So it is now. God takes this place at the head of His people... But the character of the One who steps in this way is further unfolded most beautifully. He is a father of the fatherless, a judge of widows... Judgment is the true and gracious deliverance of the blessed God.
Ask what makes an orphan or a widow, and one answer covers both.
I see every enemy scattered; then I see God filling the scene of death with the blessed compassionate love of His own heart... What makes the fatherless and the widows? Death. Death has robbed God of His pleasure in man, and man of his pleasure in God. Into that very scene God pours out His compassion. What a triumph! How did He do it? In Jesus. See that poor woman coming out of the gate at Nain. The Lord was going to do something spectacular. He was going to cancel a funeral procession. But there was something greater than that, for it says, "He had compassion on her."
These titles say what God is, not only what He does. They also name people who have lost every support others lean on.
He is high over all, the great, the mighty and the terrible. But He has a heart for the widow and the fatherless. They are helpless people, stripped of every earthly and natural support — the poor grieving, broken-hearted widow, and the lonely orphan. God thinks of, and cares for such, in a very special way; they have a claim upon His loving heart and mighty hand.
When Jerusalem lay ruined, the mourners described themselves as orphans and widows. That description was not despair — it was their argument before God.
"We have become orphans, fatherless; our mothers are like widows." This gave them a special claim on the care of Him. He is the Father of the fatherless and the Judge of the widow. By speaking of themselves this way they admit their complete helplessness. They also show their confidence in Him who had guided them from their youth. God would not despise so earnest a plea. No one ever called upon Him in vain when they felt their need and were truly repentant.
The verse names where this care comes from: God's own dwelling place.
Yet being so infinitely great, it is wonderful to see that He is "a Father of the fatherless, a defender of widows"... For, as Head of a new creation, the Lord Jesus is tenderly concerned for the blessing and welfare of all who share in that creation. As Head He provides counsel, direction, nourishment and wisdom from His holy habitation. He sets those who have been alone in families, giving them the fellowship their hearts rightly long for.
God does not simply replace what was lost. He can provide better than the one who died.
How wonderful is God's care of such! How many widows are much better off than when they had their husbands! How many orphans are better cared for and provided for than when they had their parents! God looks after them! This is enough... God never fails those who are cast upon Him. He is always true to His own Name, whatever relationship He takes.
Commentators differ on how widely to apply these titles. Some read the line first as a promise to Israel in a coming day of deliverance.
"Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in His holy habitation." This shows God's character as the Preserver of the desolate. He is this toward the true Jews in that day.
Others apply it to God's present care for His own people.
He cares for and protects those who have no natural protector. On this His people can count.
(Older translations read "Judge of the widows" where the ESV has "protector of widows.")
- Cause — Death makes orphans and widows. God walks straight into that scene with His compassion.
- Character — These titles say what God is, not just what He does. He is "great, mighty and terrible" — and tender.
- Claim — Having nothing left is what gives you a claim on Him. Helplessness is the plea He never despises.
- Care — His supply comes from His holy habitation. It goes past rescue: He sets the lonely in families.
- Consequence — God never fails those who lean on Him. He is always true to His own Name, whatever relationship He takes.
God maketh the solitary into families; those that were bound he bringeth out into prosperity but the rebellious dwell in a parched [land].
Psalm 68 opens with God rising up to act for His people. Before the psalm goes further, it pauses to say what this God is like. Verse 6 answers with three short pictures — a home given, a prison opened, and a dry land left to those who resist Him.
The psalm recalls the wilderness journey. Its opening verses set out God's character as the reason for praise.
This Psalm celebrates how God, Jehovah-Adonai, steps in for His earthly people... Moses could ask God to arise when the ark of the Lord was lifted up for each journey in the wilderness... After this, up to verse 9, we have God's character set out, as shown in His actions, for which He is to be praised.
One close rendering keeps the Hebrew name for God, Elohim, and calls the solitary "the separated ones":
Elohim settling or establishing the separated ones in a house, causing those bound in chains to go out in prosperity. But, on the contrary, the rebellious shall dwell in a dry land — that is, in desolation.
Older versions read the middle clause as bringing out those "bound with chains." The word behind it is rare, and one note on translation argues for a different sense:
Psalm 68:6, "With chains" — rather, "into prosperity." It occurs nowhere else.
Israel's own history supplied an example for each clause. This writer quotes an older English version, which reads "sets the solitary in families."
"God sets the solitary in families." Could not Abraham bear witness to this when Isaac was given to him? Isaac was the pledge of the promise. Abraham had left his country, his relatives, and his father's house, yet he would have descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as the sand on the seashore. "He brings out the prisoners into prosperity." Could not Joseph speak of this, when he was taken straight from the dungeon to be lord over the land of Egypt? "But the rebellious dwell in a dry land." Were not those who came out of Egypt and never entered the land, but died at last in the wilderness, solemn illustrations of this?
One writer applies it in two directions: "How this verse bears on the future of Israel is clear. Its general application to God's dealings with people, in both grace and judgment, is just as clear" (Pridham). In the picture of Israel, the word for "solitary" also carries the idea of being made one.
While evil prevails, there is no unity except in separation... The y'khidim — the solitary ones — are then the united ones. They are driven into separated union with Messiah in hope. His Spirit separates them from the mass, and that makes them truly one. They shall then be settled in a house. That is one fruit of God's arising. Next He brings those bound out of captivity, loosing their bands. As for the rebellious — those who revolt and exercise proud will against Him and against the poor — He puts them in desolation, in a dry land.
Another writer takes the three clauses together, as one steady way God acts:
Those who have been solitary He sets in families, providing the fellowship that their hearts rightly crave. Also, those who have been in bondage He not only sets free, but changes their poverty into prosperity (v. 6). On the other hand, those whose attitude is rebellious are deprived of all fruitfulness.
One writer reads the verse as a promise that loneliness is temporary.
God has made us for love and company, and in heaven that will be fully satisfied. We may be solitary in the wilderness; in heaven, never. He who "sets the solitary in families" has prepared for us a city... Of the city which has foundations, the builder and maker is God.
- Arising — God rises up to act, and the psalm sets out His character as the reason for praise.
- Solitary — one rendering calls them the separated ones. Those driven into isolation are the very ones He makes one and settles in a house.
- Prisoners — He does more than open the door. A rare word here is read as bringing the bound out "into prosperity" — poverty exchanged for plenty.
- Rebellious — the one clause of contrast. A dry land means desolation, the portion of proud will, seen in those who died in the wilderness.
- Home — Abraham received a family, Joseph rule in Egypt, believers a city with foundations. Loneliness belongs to the wilderness, never to the journey's end.