Psalms 84:1–10

The soul here knows, too, that this God is One who draws near to men. In the memory of the past and in the sweet vision of the future, He lives among them. Yet there is distance now, and the one who speaks longs, yes, faints with desire, to cross it and be with Him. His heart and his very flesh cry out for the living God: it is a longing so intense that the body feels and thrills with it.

Is there any difference between the state of a believer who longs and thirsts for the courts of the Lord, and one who longs and thirsts for the Lord Himself? Most certainly there is. Both states are good, and they may be very closely connected, but they are distinct... In the one case, blessing is desired; in the other, it is God Himself. Blessing would surely be the result in the second case, even more abundantly than in the first, but it is not the object. In the one state, the believer thinks of self; in the other, of God only.

Have we not had enough of this world, which is so contrary to the sweetness of the presence of the Lord Jesus? For it is not only for the dwelling place that the heart cries out, but for the living God Himself, whom we know to be fully revealed in His beloved Son.

Israel's fathers had understood what this title meant. It marked out their God, the Lord Jehovah, as completely different from the idols of the nations. Those idols had no life... He too was the desire of the saint in earlier days, as the psalmist puts it, "My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God"... Nothing short of being in the presence of the true God, who is the living God, could satisfy his desire. Idols could not satisfy him.

One would say this is a simple, even a poor thing to say about God. The smallest truth you can affirm about Him is that He is "living." But this only shows how poor we are, that we need to remind ourselves He is this... How good it is to know this in a world where evil often looks like it is winning! He is silent and still. We cry, "How long?" but He does not stir. How good it is then to steady our souls with the assurance, "Yet God lives!"

The Psalm is dedicated to the sons of Korah, who stand out as a notable example of the sovereign mercy of God. They were the descendants of men who broke into open revolt against Moses and fire came out from the Lord and consumed them, Numbers 16:35. But in Numbers 26:11 we read, "But the sons of Korah did not die." So we may take this Psalm as a joyful celebration of the grace of God. Instead of cutting them off in judgment, He brought them near to Himself and gave them a place of favour in His own dwelling.

But this was always and perfectly true of Christ only. The world, and even Israel as God's sanctuary, was a dry and thirsty land to Him. Yet His first care was always His Father's glory... This world never gave Him one drop of water to quench His thirst, or one green blade to refresh His eye. Yet He did not complain. He trusted in the Lord and waited for Him. He drank at the fountain; yet, as man, He thirsted for God — the living God — as no one else ever did.

This is the breathing of a saint in Old Testament times. He could only see Christ from far off. For him the glory of God was tied to an earthly tabernacle, not to the heaven now open to faith. And we, who have received so much greater a revelation — do our hearts long just as much for the Father's house, for the place of His presence?

It is a fact well known in history that small birds lived undisturbed inside the temple grounds. How fitting a testimony to the Maker of all, who dwelt there! The spirit of the psalmist carries him there now, as if he were one of those unhindered dwellers in the LORD's courts. The sparrow and the swallow become figures. Through them he would have us know what answers the longings of heart he has been expressing. He himself is the sparrow that has found a house. The sparrow is a social bird, and when it is found alone on the housetop it is the very image of desolation. But now it has all that the heart can desire in nearness to its Maker.

I take those two birds to be symbols exactly of what our poor hearts are naturally. The sparrow is a worthless bird; it is valueless because it is so plentiful. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?" says the blessed Lord. The swallow is a type of ceaseless activity and unrest; but both sparrow and swallow have found a home. Where? "Your altars, O LORD of hosts, my King and my God."

The swallow is, according to the meaning of the word, the bird of freedom. Its bold, dashing flight and migratory habits naturally speak of this. But its affections can hold this free-roaming bird. The "place where she may lay her young" claims her completely. And the nest here is in a place where no swallow could put hers. Faith finds its satisfaction and rest in the LORD's altars. These do not shut faith out, but give it a welcome and a home.

"Your altars" would have in view both the altar of burnt offering and the altar of incense. The first suggests acceptance, and the second access… Linked with this we have the expression "my King and my God." The first means we recognise the rights of God — we are subject to His will. In the second, He becomes the Object of our worship.

If we are to enjoy forever a scene where our hearts find joy multiplied as many times as we find others to share it with us, then at least we shall forever realise where that joy comes from. It is the result of that unequalled sorrow, when one solitary Man bore the accumulated sins of generations… On this foundation we shall build forever, and here our hearts will rest in adoration forever. The sparrow will find a house.

God's providence has prepared a place of rest for every creature. So by faith he says: Well then, since You have prepared a nest even for the swallow and the sparrow, You have also prepared one for me. And he adds, "Your altars, O LORD of hosts!" There is the nest or place of rest that he sought… And, in fact, worship is the rest of the soul.

One thing about these greatly privileged birds strikes us strongly as we think: they did not know the One from whom all this kindness flowed… He thought of everything they needed, but there was no fellowship between them and the Great Giver. From this, O my soul, you may learn a useful lesson. Never be satisfied with only visiting such places, or with having certain privileges there. Rise in spirit, and seek, and find, and enjoy direct communion with the living God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessed are those who dwell in Your house — not those who visit, or pass through. And it is impossible to dwell there without praising Him continually.

What else could come out of knowingly dwelling in the house of God but continual praise? The word "still" means "continually." So if we do enjoy the privilege of dwelling there, we must express it in praise. We know from the New Testament that the house of God is the place where God is approached, and also the place through which God is displayed. Yet we should always remember this: only as we know the blessedness of approach to God will we be fit to display Him as we should.

Their constant occupation is what confirms their blessedness: "they will still be praising You." Praise is simply happiness overflowing in a soul that knows where this happiness comes from. Kept up without a break, it is joy without a break — a perpetual overflow of it. Such will heaven be. Here on earth we find the beginning of it.

In verse 4 you get the first of the three occurrences of the word "Blessed." The little word "Selah" divides them from one another. The first is in verse 4, the second in verse 5, and the third in verse 12. They occur in what we may call a descending scale. Happy, says the Psalmist, are those who have found in the presence of the Lord a place of rest and dwelling. They are so blessed that they will be still praising You. They will praise and praise and go on praising. Find the Christian whose heart rests in the blessedness of the presence of God, and you will find one whose heart is filled with praise that springs from the knowledge of Himself.

Psalm 84 looks at the blessedness of going up to the courts of the Lord. Yet in its picture of the road there, it points to the path of tears which His people have had to walk towards their blessings. So it has full moral force, and it teaches Christians as much as Jews. Once brought into the house, such is the blessing. They will have nothing to do but praise. This is the first great theme of blessing. It is blessing, perfect and complete in its nature. It is at the end.

The Psalmist is speaking of these singers when he says that those who dwell in God's house "will be still praising" Him. Their occupation was praising the Lord "day and night" (1 Chronicles 9:33). It was a shadow of the endless employment of the redeemed in heaven (Revelation 5). It is a blessed service — if it may be called service — and the Church has the privilege of anticipating it on earth while it waits for the return of our blessed Lord.

Pure happiness therefore is found in the permanence of dwelling in the house of God. It will be so for the godly of Israel in the thousand-year kingdom on earth. It is so for believers even now. And it will be so in the future, when they are forever in the Father's house in glory! They will not only praise the Lord: "they will be still praising You." There will be no end to the praise of redeemed souls.

In Psalm 84 we get the double blessing: "Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise!" In the house — there where God is — is the first and proper blessing. There is nothing there but praise. Then comes, "Blessed is the man whose strength is in God" — the strength needed along the way — "in whose heart are the ways of [that is, the way to] God."

Happy is the man who finds his strength in God while he is on the way. Unhappy is the man whose strength is in himself. "Happy is the man whose strength is in you." That is a lesson we have to learn.

"Blessed are those whose strength is in you." If I have a difficulty, I am weak and need strength to hold me up in patient endurance. Peter without this strength denied Jesus. We may grow weary when we act in our own strength, for what is the strength of the flesh? When we act in the power of God, weariness is impossible… Jesus, always dependent, was the strongest, and overcame the world.

The great secret of strength in the ways of God is the full assurance of His love. We learn the love that gave Jesus to die for us, and that gave the Holy Spirit to give life and to teach us. Once we have learnt it, we shall be content to trust Him with the ordering of all things for our journey home to Him. This is the strength of God in the soul, and this alone will give good heart for the way in which He leads, rough or smooth. What else could make the weary pilgrim sing on his lonely way, or the martyr glorify God in the fire?

The "highways" that lead to Zion pass through an enemy's land. At times the way may seem long, rough and dreary. So the very first need is strength for the journey, and it can only be found in God. If the dwelling place of God is an object to the heart, the way that leads there will have a place in the heart. If the pilgrim path attracts our hearts so little, does that not tell a tale? It tells of hearts that have hardly felt how blessed the home on high is — the home God has called us to.

In our heart are the ways, or the highways — a better translation than "set on pilgrimage," as some versions have it. The highways are in contrast to the "byways," which may lead us away from the main track, though they may attract less opposition from the enemy. The highways lead straight on to the desired end, and a simple heart, not pulled away from that end, is most desirable.

This does not mean that they will gain more strength in themselves. It means that at every step of their wilderness path they will learn their own utter weakness more fully, and with it, that their strength is in the Lord. A deeper sense of dependence must bring increased strength. But always remember: the strength is never in us. It is not a fund we can draw on. It is always in the Lord, and we receive it moment by moment, as the need arises.

So the ways of pilgrims leading up to the city of God are surely what is meant. The valley of Baca is no literal place. It is a picture, and so is everything said about it. The name may come from the baca-shrub, which gives out a tear-like liquid when it is cut. Even then, there is still a deliberate link with bacah, "weeping."

Look up the best Bible map you can find. Against the valley of Baca you come to this entry — "situation unknown". Now move among God's people. Get a little nearer to the burdens they carry. You will find that, like the valley of Baca, there are many places of weeping, situation unknown.

This is God's way out of the world, and so it is a trial to nature. We have to face the great moral system in the world, and that is no easy matter. The strongest link that ties us to it has to break, and the cord nearest to the heart may have to be cut... Thus all have a valley of Baca to pass through; it is the way to Zion. Even the most spiritual and devoted of the Lord's people must have the exercises of the valley.

To some Christians it may only be a shallow dip in an even plain of easy circumstances. To others it may prove to be a deep dark ravine in an unbroken run of difficult circumstances... For one, the valley of Baca may be the death of someone who had become the idol of the heart. For another, it may be the breaking of a close friendship. For a third, the loss of health. For a fourth, the loss of a living. For a fifth, it may be only the thwarting of the will. That last one may look like a very shallow valley... But such people little realise how the human will enslaves us, and how painful the breaking of the will is.

The unexercised soul may pass through the salty vale of tears but finds no well there. Another delights in the Lord and rests in the precious thought that He does everything right. That soul finds a well in the valley, hidden from the careless glance. And God blesses that soul so richly that rain fills the pools, the hollows on the surface, as well. Secret springs feed the well, but the rain shows blessing so plainly that even a sceptical mind cannot deny it.

The very exercises and sorrows through which he is passing, when gone through with God, become to him a well-spring of life... That is not all, for "the rain also fills the pools." The exercised soul receives blessing through his trials and sorrows. And blessing also comes down from God, like gentle rain from heaven.

The two thoughts here have been well described as sorrow and sowing... In Canaan these refreshing showers came in two seasons: the early rain and the latter rain. The early rain came to make the seed sprout, and the latter rain to ripen the harvest. How well we know that the harvest results only from the sowing!

This man is exercised. Passing through the valley of Baca he finds a well; he finds refreshment in the God of the valleys. But that is not the end. "The rain also fills the pools." There is education, and something is set free for the whole church of God.

In verse 5, we are seen walking the highways — we are passing on. In verse 6, we are in a valley of tears, which we are passing through. In verse 7, Zion is in sight — we are passing in. The "highways" that lead to Zion pass through an enemy's land. At times the way may seem long, rough and dreary, and the soul may long and grow faint for the end of the journey. So the very first need is strength for the journey. This strength can only be found in God.

The pilgrims' journey goes through the valley of Baca, yet they will still go from strength to strength. This does not mean that they gain more strength of their own. It means that at every step of their wilderness path they learn more fully how weak they really are, and along with that, that their strength is in the Lord. A greater sense of dependence must bring greater strength. But we must always remember that the strength is never in us. It is never a fund in us that we can draw on. It is always in the Lord, and we receive it moment by moment as we need it.

"They go from strength to strength" — the very opposite of the way people go through this world. Those people go from weakness to weakness, and in the end they die of weakness. "Here they go from strength to strength." When they leave this wilderness scene, they are stronger than when they entered it — stronger in spirit.

There are, so to speak, stopping places on the Christian's road — trials out of which fountains spring up, and these make him go from strength to strength.

At first sight it seems strange that pilgrims should find strength for such a journey in the valley of tears — the place where self is put to death. And yet we may say they could find it nowhere else… "When I am weak," as the apostle says, "then I am strong." We go, so to speak, from weakness to weakness, and yet from strength to strength.

We may break down on the journey — and sadly, we do. We may stop on the way, we may grow tired of the way, we may follow on worn out but still going. Yet despite all our failure and weakness, "Each one will appear before God in Zion." If the Lord has said, "My sheep … will never perish," we can be sure that all His sheep will reach home at last. They pass on their way. One by one they go out of our sight, but "Each one appears before God in Zion." And there at last they will meet.

Here we see the thought of progress, with a view to the place we will one day fill in "the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ"… Every faithful Israelite would arrive at Mount Zion, because God stepped in with sovereign grace. In the same way, every believer today will arrive in heaven and share in the display of the kingdom. But while our arrival in heaven rests on sovereign grace, our place in the kingdom depends on how faithfully we serve our Lord while we are in this world.

Three themes mark the three divisions of the Psalm. (1) The beauty of the house of God, which he is travelling to, and the happiness of those who live in that house (1-4). (2) The experiences on the path that leads to the house, and the happiness of the one who walks it (5-7). (3) The comfort of prayer, and the happiness of the man who trusts in the Lord (8-12).

Someone who only keeps up outward religion knows nothing of feelings like these. The psalmist was the opposite of that. His whole heart was in the temple-worship of God, and he joins in it in spirit, though he may be in exile. He praises God; but because of where he is, his praise turns into prayer.

This prayer holds two descriptions of God: "LORD God of hosts" — His majesty; "God of Jacob" — His mercy. The first draws a note of praise from our hearts, the second a note of thanksgiving. If we knew God in His majesty only, how afraid of Him we would be! But knowing His mercy encourages us to go on in His service.

The psalmist turns to God as the God of hosts, with a sense of His divine majesty and power. He turns to Him as the God of Jacob too — the One who is full of grace, and with whom he stands in a covenant relationship. God entered into relationship with Jacob on the ground of sovereign grace alone. And all through the wanderings of failing Jacob, God showed him nothing but grace. The God of power and the God of grace, the One we are in relationship with, is the only One who can bring us on our way to glory.

Jacob is so much like ourselves that our hearts keep echoing, "This might be myself!" The failures, the self-will, the scheming, the lack of faith, the turning to the world — sadly, these are paths some of us know only too well. That is why we rejoice that our God so often speaks of Himself as "the God of Jacob", and so rarely as "the God of Abraham." … Thirteen times in the Psalms we find "the God of Jacob", against one "the God of Abraham." And let us remember that "Jacob" means "Cheater", "Deceiver", while "Abraham" means "The Father of Many Nations."

Though his fellowship may be very limited in practice, his trust is in the One who is not limited, but is the God of great numbers. He also calls God the "God of Jacob," because he knows he deserves God's mercies no more than Jacob did (Gen. 32:10). Yet he can lean his whole weight on God's faithfulness, which is what Jacob found to be his only source of help and blessing. It is far better to follow the example of a man who openly admits to God that he is a failure, than the example of a man who is proud of his own goodness, with no repentance and no faith!

The Jew could depend on the covenant faithfulness of the LORD; we can depend on the name of "Father", which is ours in connection with Christ. There was power to protect in the valley of Baca, and, sweeter still, grace to bless on the holy hill of Zion.

Praise the God of Jacob that the traveller, even while still on the journey, now and then gets sweet foretastes of that happy end… Faith is as welcome now in those courts above, as you yourself will be at the journey's end. Your right to be there is as good now as it will be then; the name of Christ can never be more welcome than it is today. So use that right now.

It is not hard to see what this pictures, and it is clearer still when we see how it applies to the last days. What anointed besides One can be thought of then? There will be no king in Israel then, and to speak of Israel itself as this anointed, as some do, is completely foreign to Scripture. That the doctrine of acceptance in Christ should take the form of a prayer in the Old Testament is no real difficulty. Israel looked in hope for what we, more favoured, already see as accomplished.

Who but Christ is God's anointed? The basis of all our blessing — the ground of all our confidence — is this. Christ is all that God would have Him to be. He has done all that God asks, so that His grace may flow out in blessing to unworthy sinners. God looks on Christ as the One anointed to do the great work, and God is satisfied with Christ and His finished work. So God can be a shield to the believer. He can shelter him from judgment, death, and all the power of the enemy, because of what He has found in Christ.

The combination is beautiful and blessed — "our shield" — "your anointed." God and the soul are brought near to each other. Their object, their centre, is one — "our" — "your." Both are looking to the same Christ, though from different points of view. He is God's Anointed, He is your Shield, O my soul!

But why "look away"? He is conscious of his sinfulness, which causes all the sorrow and evil of his life. If a holy God is to look at that, what hope can there be for him? … The psalmist can add elsewhere what is needed to explain this thought properly. He can say, "Look on the face of your anointed" — Your Christ (Ps. 84:9); and so it is that, according to the gospel paradox, God can regard us just by not regarding us.

Behold, not ourselves, but the Christ, who is our shield; so that we treat "the face of your anointed," not God Himself, as the shield. The believer presents Christ before God, and so is hidden in Him. This is the only true way of access, from Abel onward, whether for sinner or for saint. In verse 11, on the other hand, it is what the Lord God is — He is both a sun and shield.

In every sorrow God is our shield. Oh, but some may say, My sorrow comes from my own sin. Sad that it should be so! But even then we can say, "Look on the face of your anointed." God can always look on His Son with delight; He is ever well pleased in Him; and we can plead what Christ is. … You may not choose to say, Look on me; but you can always say, "Look on the face of your anointed." Christ is your only shelter.

Divine grace has associated me with Him, so that what God has made true of that blessed Man is true of me also. I am "in Him," accepted in His acceptance, blessed as He is blessed, and loved as He is loved. No wonder we read in Ps. 84:9: "Look on the face of your anointed," that is, Your Christ. According to the worthiness that God sees in Him, every believer is favoured for ever.

A young believer once asked another believer, "A thousand what?" The reply was, "A thousand of anything, anywhere else." Perhaps that is the best lesson to draw from this statement... There is a joy and satisfaction at the very entrance to the circle of God's blessing. You could never find it at the heart of a world ruled by Satan.

What made the tabernacles so lovely, so desirable? Was it the material they were made of? "My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God." God was there. That is what gave all the beauty and loveliness. He was the One who had done such great things for His people. That is why the psalmist delighted to be in the courts of the Lord.

"I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness." It is easy to see the force of that. The doorkeeper has to be first to let others in, and has to stay till the last; he is there longer than anyone. In the margin it reads, "I would choose rather to sit at the threshold." That gives a different thought. He is content with the threshold, the lowest place, as long as he is in God's presence. Was God there? He would be there too.

Many of God's children are satisfied with being at the door. Some even keep themselves outside. We ought to go in and live in the house. Yet our unbelief, or our heart's desire for things other than God, may keep us from going further. Even then we have at least "the door," for Christ is "the door." And the door, even if it is only the door, is worth more than everything in the world.

Note that the sons of Korah did not perish... Sovereign grace saved the sons of Korah from the terrible fate of their father. They were saved from the pit. Mercy was remembered in wrath... They had the cities of refuge. They kept the gates of the tabernacle. They were in charge of the chambers and treasuries of the house of the Lord... And more than that, the Holy Spirit inspired them to write some of the beautiful Psalms. Read Psalm 84.

In the light of the coming glory, the world and all it can offer is left behind. What can the tents of wickedness offer compared with the courts of the Lord? A day in His courts is better than a thousand days spent in the best homes men can offer. At best the world has only a temporary tent for its dwelling; the Lord brings us to an eternal home.

Did the psalmist so delight in being where God was? Then you see how it applies to us. The Lord said, "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them." How far do we really believe that? Do we love to be where He is?... It may be a poor company, for "not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth."