(A Psalm of Asaph.) O God, the nations are come into thine inheritance thy holy temple have they defiled; they have laid Jerusalem in heaps.
The psalm opens with wreckage laid out before God, down to bodies left unburied. Two questions drive what follows: which disaster is this, and why does the prayer keep saying "your"?
The psalm does not describe the damage to the reader. It lays it before God as His own concern.
We have first the occasion of their prayer, the case spread out before God. It concerns Him. The nations have invaded His inheritance, defiled His temple, left Jerusalem in ruins. They have given the dead bodies of His servants as food to the birds and beasts of prey.
The same writer explains why the dead are called "saints":
...here are enemies of God Himself who have come in to slaughter those who were at least His servants, worshippers of His, and "saints," set apart by His Name upon them. Their blood has been shed like water round the city of peace, so that none was left to bury them. Yet so they were left to appeal to God in open sight of heaven — the crime exposed, and the earth refusing to cover it.
The word "your" runs through the verse. One writer hears the faith of the remnant — the faithful few left in Israel — in that one word:
This is what the remnant say under this ruin, and their faith too: "Yours — Your inheritance," verse 1.
They are helpless, so they plead not their own loss but God's:
The godly spread out their sad condition before God. To all appearance the enemy has completely beaten God's people. They are left helpless, mocked and scorned before the world. They plead, however, that the enemy is attacking God's inheritance, God's holy temple, God's servants, and God's saints.
Most writers read the psalm as reaching past every siege that has already happened. One writer weighs the two obvious candidates and rejects both:
This can hardly be Nebuchadnezzar's capture of Jerusalem. We know from Jeremiah that the remnant of that day were kept safe and well treated. Besides, this psalm applies to a time long after Jerusalem's first desolation. "How long, O LORD? Will you be angry forever?" is a plea no one could make when God's anger against Israel was only beginning... Might it not apply, then, to the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus and the Roman armies? To this we answer, No. The Christians of that day, as is well known, escaped the horrors of the siege by getting away in time to Pella.
Another writer places the same siege in the future and even names a likely invader:
The subject is the siege and capture of Jerusalem in the last days, after their return... The destruction comes after the siege, and it comes not from Antichrist but from the nations. Isaiah 22 leads me to think that Persia will be the leading agent here.
The psalm gives one more reason for the ruin, and it is the hardest one:
The nations have overrun the land, the temple is defiled, and Jerusalem lies in ruins. There the saints have been slaughtered, and their bodies left unburied. But this is not chance, and it is not the greater strength of the enemy. It is the hand of God, correcting them for the sins of their forefathers.
What do they hold on to, if the ruin is deserved?
The faithful remnant freely admit their sin, and you can hear their cry clearly in this Psalm... But they hold fast to the covenant name of Jehovah as the pledge that mercy and deliverance will come in the end.
The psalm does not stop at the rubble. It moves from confession to a demand, and ends in thanks.
They own their former sins and look for mercy — tender mercies... "Why should the nations say, 'Where is their God?'" The psalm demands that He make Himself known by avenging the blood of His servants. So His people, the sheep of His pasture, would give Him thanks for ever.
The words are strong. One writer asks whether Christians should ever pray them:
The present age is one of pure grace... And to us the command is, "Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them." ... But a time is coming when prayers like the ones that follow — inspired prayers, remember — will rise to heaven... Can it be the Church that uses such language, prays such prayers, and rejoices in such expectations? Impossible.
- Yours. The prayer names every loss as God's own — His inheritance, His temple, His servants, His saints. The case concerns Him.
- Yours to chasten. The ruin is God's hand correcting His people, not chance or a stronger enemy — and the faithful admit the sin.
- Yours to avenge. The blood spilled is His servants' blood, so the prayer turns from confession to a demand: make Yourself known among the nations.
- Yours still ahead. Writers see a desolation still to come — past Nebuchadnezzar, past Titus — with the nations, perhaps Persia, as the invader.
- Yours to praise. The lament ends where it must: God's people and the sheep of His pasture giving Him thanks for ever.
The dead bodies of thy servants have they given to be meat unto the fowl of the heavens, the flesh of thy saints unto the beasts of the earth
Psalm 79 opens with ruin: foreign armies in God's land, His temple defiled, Jerusalem in rubble. Verse 2 moves from ruined property to dead bodies, and presses one question: if these dead are God's own servants, what does their death say about Him?
The psalm does not call the dead merely Israelites. It calls them God's servants and His saints. One writer shows what that makes the killing, and why the unburied bodies matter:
No doubt their sins have provoked the Lord to anger, and they own it to be so. But these are enemies of God Himself. They have come in to slaughter people who at least were His servants, worshippers of His, and "saints," set apart by His Name being on them. Their blood ran like water round the city of peace, and no one was left to bury them. Yet lying there, they appeal to God in the open sight of heaven — the crime made plain, the earth refusing to cover it.
The word behind "saints" here is worth noting. One writer points out that the sufferers are viewed not as the ceremonially holy but as the objects of God's covenant kindness:
The way the remnant speaks under it, and their faith too: "Yours — Your inheritance," verse 1. Compare Joel 2:17. They therefore regard the slain as God's saints, chasedim, not kedoshim.
The voice praying here is not the church's voice. One writer tests it by what the sufferers call themselves, and by the hopes they express:
Clearly they are His servants, His saints, and they speak of themselves to God that way (Ps. 79:2). Now is there a single sentiment here that belongs to the church of God? Or is there one that does not breathe of Jewish affections and hopes? Suppose the nations invade Judea. Suppose they defile God's holy temple in Jerusalem and lay the city in heaps. We can understand how these things may, and will, deeply affect the heart of an Israelite.
On its own, verse 2 looks like the enemy winning. One writer refuses that reading:
The nations have overrun the land, defiled the temple, and laid Jerusalem in heaps. There they have slaughtered the saints and left their bodies unburied. But this is no mere effect of chance, nor of the superior power of the enemy. It is the hand of God in chastening for the wrongdoing of their forefathers. But if so, their God is Jehovah, and He must stand up for His people against those who have devoured Jacob and laid waste his dwelling.
One writer argues that the psalm reaches beyond any siege already past. What he sees in verse 2 is persecution, not ordinary war:
This is not a mere invasion of Judea and Jerusalem by hostile armies. It is a persecution of God's servants, of God's saints — persecution to death. Yes, so many died that we read of their blood being shed like water round about Jerusalem! This could hardly be the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. Jeremiah tells us that the remnant of that day were preserved and treated well.
Writers differ on whether verse 2 names a specific group of martyrs. One holds back:
Many believe there will be a special slaying of those who bear testimony in Israel... But I do not think this is what the Spirit expresses as the mind of the remnant here, even if such martyrs are included. That is for the church to know, and to know beforehand. It is not the exercise of heart of the remnant, who are kept for the earth. These are looking to Him who can preserve those who are appointed to die.
The psalm turns this sight into a plea with two halves — one for the dead, one for the living:
They do not beg only for the avenging of blood already shed. There are people still living, in the worst of distress, and they pray for their deliverance too... This is clearly the cry of the surviving remnant after their brothers have been killed. They ask God to avenge the one group and to deliver the other.
For those who died, the unburied body is not the end of the story:
Their death shuts them out of the earthly rest and blessedness of Messiah's reign, which their surviving brothers will enjoy. But are they losers by this? Not at all. A martyr's death is their way through to heavenly glory, and to a place with Christ when He reigns over the earth.
- Whose dead. The dead are God's servants and God's saints — the outrage lands on Him before it lands on them.
- Whose hand. Behind the enemy's sword stands God's own chastening — not chance, and not the enemy's greater strength.
- Whose case. Unburied, the bodies become an open appeal to God — the crime uncovered, the earth refusing to hide it.
- Whose cry. The survivors ask two things: that God avenge the dead, and rescue those still marked to die.
- Whose gain. The martyrs lose their share in the earthly kingdom. Their death carries them into heavenly glory with Christ.
Their blood have they shed like water round about Jerusalem, and there was none to bury [them].
Psalm 79 opens with an invasion: the nations inside God's inheritance, the temple defiled, the city in ruins. This verse adds the blood and the unburied dead, and asks whose blood it is and what the sight of it calls God to do.
The dead here are not soldiers lost in battle. One writer sees a deliberate attack on God's own people:
This is not just an invasion of Judea and Jerusalem by hostile armies. It is a persecution of God's servants, of God's saints — persecution to death. Yes, so many died that we read of their blood shed like water all around Jerusalem!
The scale explains the second half of the verse. As another writer reads it, blood was spilled "as though it had been water in all the vicinity of Jerusalem, the population so decreased that there were none left to bury the dead, and the enemy caring nothing for this."
The unburied dead do more than deepen the horror. Their bodies become evidence no one can hide:
Their blood has been shed like water round the city of peace, so that none was left to bury them. Yet in this way they were left to appeal to God in the open sight of heaven. The crime stayed on display, and the earth refused to cover it (compare Job 16:18; Ezekiel 24:8). And their helplessness was on show, a reproach in the eyes of the people around them, who had no pity.
Refusing burial said that a person did not matter. One commentator writes about Rizpah, who guarded the bodies of Saul's sons. She would not leave them "as food for the birds of the heavens by day or for the beasts of the field by night, as though they were criminals and outcasts. So the nations will act toward God's people (Ps. 79:2), but this is not what the Lord commanded, and not how anyone should act in Israel!"
The land belongs to God, and so do the dead:
It is His inheritance that the nations have defiled by their presence. The blood which has flowed like water round about Jerusalem is the blood of His saints. He may have a dispute with His people and reprove them for their sins, judging them because they are His people. But sevenfold vengeance will come down on the uncircumcised plunderers who add to their suffering.
The sufferers do not claim innocence. Another writer traces the disaster to God's own hand:
This is no mere effect of chance, and it is not the greater power of the enemy. It is the hand of God, disciplining them for the sins of their forefathers.
Commentators differ on which attack the psalm describes. One writer rules out the fall of Jerusalem to Babylon:
This could hardly be the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. We know from Jeremiah that the remnant of that day were preserved and well treated. Besides, this psalm applies to a time long after Jerusalem's first ruin.
Another writer points to a northern army, and to what the psalm asks God to do:
Psalm 79 refers, in the plainest terms, to the invasion by the nations, especially the northern army. They had laid waste Jerusalem and the temple, and shed the blood of the servants of Jehovah. The psalm owns former sins and looks to mercy — tender mercies. It demands that God may be known by avenging the blood of His servants. Then His people and the sheep of His pasture would give Him thanks for ever.
A Christian reading this verse is reading someone else's cry. One writer asks whether a single line here sounds like the church:
Here the Holy Spirit gives words to a suffering people. But which people? Clearly they are His servants and His saints, and they speak of themselves to God that way (Ps. 79:2). Is there a single feeling here that belongs to the church of God? Or is there one that does not breathe of Jewish affections and hopes?
- Blood — not a battle lost, but a slaughter. God's servants and saints were killed in such numbers that their blood ran like water around the city.
- Unburied — no one was left to bury them. The earth refuses to cover the crime, so the bodies themselves appeal to heaven.
- Ownership — the land, the temple and the dead all belong to God. The invaders struck at Him when they struck at them.
- Discipline — the sufferers do not plead innocence. They see God's own hand correcting them for their fathers' sins.
- Answer — the psalm asks God to be known by avenging the blood of His servants. Then His people, the sheep of His pasture, will thank Him for ever.