OCCASION. The Psalm cannot be referred to any
especial event or period in David's history. All attempts to
find it a birthplace are but guesses. It was, doubtless, more
than once the language of that much tried man of God, and is
intended to express the feelings of the people of God in those
ever-returning trials which beset them. If the reader has never
yet found occasion to use the language of this brief ode, he
will do so ere long, if he be a man after the Lord's own heart.
We have been wont to call this the "How Long Psalm."
We had almost said the Howling Psalm, from the incessant
repetition of the cry "how long?"
DIVISION. This Psalm is very readily to be
divided into three parts: the question of anxiety, 1, 2; the cry
of prayer, 3, 4; the song of faith, 5, 6.
EXPOSITION
Verse 1. "How long?" This question is
repeated no less than four times. It betokens very intense
desire for deliverance, and great anguish of heart. And what if
there be some impatience mingled therewith; is not this the more
true a portrait of our own experience? It is not easy to prevent
desire from degenerating into impatience. O for grace that,
while we wait on God, we may be kept from indulging a murmuring
spirit! "How long?" Does not the oft-repeated
cry become a very HOWLING? And what if grief should find no
other means of utterance? Even then, God is not far from the
voice of our roaring; for he does not regard the music of our
prayers, but his own Spirit's work in them in exciting desire
and inflaming the affections.
"How
long?" Ah! how long do our days appear when our soul is
cast down within us!
"How wearily the moments seem to glide
O'er sadness! How the time
Delights to linger in its flight!"
Time flies with full-fledged wing in our summer days, but in
our winters he flutters painfully. A week within prison-walls is
longer than a month at liberty. Long sorrow seems to argue
abounding corruption; for the gold which is long in the fire
must have had much dross to be consumed, hence the question
"how long?" may suggest deep searching of heart. "How
long wilt thou forget me?" Ah, David! how like a fool
thou talkest! Can God forget? Can Omniscience fail in
memory? Above all, can Jehovah's heart forget his own beloved
child? Ah! brethren, let us drive away the thought, and hear the
voice of our covenant God by the mouth of the prophet, "But
Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten
me. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not
have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget,
yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the
palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me." "For
ever?" Oh, dark thought! It was surely bad enough to
suspect a temporary forgetfulness, but shall we ask the
ungracious question, and imagine that the Lord will for ever
cast away his people? No, his anger may endure for a night, but
his love shall abide eternally. "How long wilt thou hide
thy face from me?" This is a far more rational
question, for God may hide his face, and yet he may remember
still. A hidden face is no sign of a forgetful heart. It is in
love that his face is turned away; yet to a real child of God,
this hiding of his Father's face is terrible and he will never
be at ease until, once more he hath his Father's smile.
Verse 2. "How long shall I take counsel, in my soul,
having sorrow in my heart daily?" There is in the
original the idea of "laying up" counsels in his
heart, as if his devices had become innumerable but unavailing.
Herein we have often been like David, for we have considered and
reconsidered day after day, but have not discovered the happy
device by which to escape from our trouble. Such store is a sad
sore. Ruminating upon trouble is bitter work. Children fill
their mouths with bitterness when they rebelliously chew the
pill which they ought obediently to have taken at once. "How
long shall my enemy be exalted over me?" This is like
wormwood in the gall, to see the wicked enemy exulting while our
soul is bowed down within us. The laughter of a foe grates
horribly on the ears of grief. For the devil to make mirth of
our misery is the last ounce of our complaint, and quite breaks
down our patience; therefore let us make it one chief argument
in our plea with mercy.
Thus
the careful reader will remark that the question "how
long?" is put in four shapes. The writer's grief is viewed,
as it seems to be, as it is, as it affects himself within, and
his foes without. We are all prone to play most on the worst
string. We set up monumental stones over the graves of our joys,
but who thinks of erecting monuments of praise for mercies
received? We write four books of Lamentations and only one of
Canticles, and are far more at home in wailing out a Misere
than in chanting a Te Deum.
Verse 3. But now prayer lifteth up her voice, like the
watchman who proclaims the daybreak. Now will the tide turn, and
the weeper shall dry his eyes. The mercy-seat is the life of
hope and the death of despair. The gloomy thought of God's
having forsaken him is still upon the psalmist's soul, and he
therefore cries, "Consider and hear me." He
remembers at once the root of his woe, and cries aloud that it
may be removed. The final absence of God is Tophet's fire, and
his temporary absence brings his people into the very suburbs of
hell. God is here entreated to see and hear, that
so he may be doubly moved to pity. What should we do if we had
no God to turn to in the hour of wretchedness?
Note
the cry of faith, "O Lord MY God!" Is it
not a very glorious fact that our interest in our God is not
destroyed by all our trials and sorrows? We may lose our gourds,
but not our God. The title-deed of heaven is not written in the
sand, but in eternal brass.
"Lighten
mine eyes:" that is, let the eye of my faith be clear,
that I may see my God in the dark; let my eye of watchfulness be
wide open, lest I be entrapped, and let the eye of my
understanding be illuminated to see the right way. Perhaps, too,
here is an allusion to that cheering of the spirits so
frequently called the enlightening of the eyes because it causes
the face to brighten, and the eyes to sparkle. Well may we use
the prayer, "Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O
Lord!" for in many respects we need the Holy Spirit's
illuminating rays. "Lest I sleep the sleep of
death." Darkness engenders sleep, and despondency is
not slow in making the eyes heavy. From this faintness and
dimness of vision, caused by despair, there is but a step to the
iron sleep of death. David feared that his trials would end his
life, and he rightly uses his fear as an argument with God in
prayer; for deep distress has in it a kind of claim upon
compassion, not a claim of right, but a plea which has power
with grace. Under the pressure of heart sorrow, the psalmist
does not look forward to the sleep of death with hope and joy,
as assured believers do, but he shrinks from it with dread, from
which we gather that bondage from fear of death is no new thing.
Verse 4. Another plea is urged in the fourth verse, and it is
one which the tried believer may handle well when on his knees.
We make use of our arch-enemy for once, and compel him, like
Samson, to grind in our mill while we use his cruel arrogance as
an argument in prayer. It is not the Lord's will that the great
enemy of our souls should overcome his children. This would
dishonour God, and cause the evil one to boast. It is well for
us that our salvation and God's honour are so intimately
connected, that they stand or fall together.
Our
covenant God will complete the confusion of all our enemies, and
if for awhile we become their scoff and jest, the day is coming
when the shame will change sides, and the contempt shall be
poured on those to whom it is due.
Verse 5. What a change is here! Lo, the rain is over and
gone, and the time of the singing of birds is come. The
mercy-seat has so refreshed the poor weeper, that he clears his
throat for a song. If we have mourned with him, let us now dance
with him. David's heart was more often out of tune than his
harp, He begins many of his psalms sighing, and ends them
singing; and others he begins in joy and ends in sorrow;
"so that one would think," says Peter Moulin,
"that those Psalms had been composed by two men of a
contrary humour." It is worthy to be observed that the joy
is all the greater because of the previous sorrow, as calm is
all the more delightful in recollection of the preceding
tempest.
"Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy."
Here
is his avowal of his confidence: "But I have trusted in
thy mercy." For many a year it had been his wont to
make the Lord his castle and tower of defence, and he smiles
from behind the same bulwark still. He is sure of his faith, and
his faith makes him sure; had he doubted the reality of his
trust in God, he would have blocked up one of the windows
through which the sun of heaven delights to shine. Faith is now
in exercise, and consequently is readily discovered; there is
never a doubt in our heart about the existence of faith while it
is in action: when the hare or partridge is quiet we see it not,
but let the same be in motion and we soon perceive it. All the
powers of his enemies had not driven the psalmist from his
stronghold. As the shipwrecked mariner clings to the mast, so
did David cling to his faith; he neither could nor would give up
his confidence in the Lord his God. O that we may profit by his
example and hold by our faith as by our very life!
Now
hearken to the music which faith makes in his soul. The bells of
the mind are all ringing, "My heart shall rejoice in thy
salvation." There is joy and feasting within doors, for
a glorious guest has come, and the fatted calf is killed. Sweet
is the music which sounds from the strings of the heart. But
this is not all; the voice joins itself in the blessed
work, and the tongue keeps tune with the soul, while the writer
declares, "I will sing unto the Lord."
"I will praise thee every day,
Now thine anger's past away;
Comfortable thoughts arise
From the bleeding sacrifice."
Verse 6. The Psalm closes with a sentence which is a
refutation of the charge of forgetfulness which David had
uttered in the first verse, "He hath dealt bountifully
with me." So shall it be with us if we wait awhile. The
complaint which in our haste we utter shall be joyfully
retracted, and we shall witness that the Lord hath dealt
bountifully with us.
EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS
Verse 1. "How long wilt thou forget me, O
Lord?" etc. The departures of God from true believers
are never final; they may be tedious, but they are temporary. As
the evil spirit is said to depart from Christ for a season (Luke
4:13; though he quitted that temptation, he did not quit his
design, so as to tempt no more), so the good Spirit withdraws
from those that are Christ's, for a season only, 'tis with a
purpose of coming again. When he hath most evidently forsaken,
'tis as unquestionable that sooner or later he will return; and
the happiness of his return will richly recompense for the
sadness of his desertion; Isaiah 54:7, "For a small moment
have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather
thee;" here is not only a gathering after a forsaking, but "great
mercies" to make amends for "a small
moment." He who hath engaged to be our God for ever,
cannot depart for ever. Timothy Cruso, 1696.
Verse 1. "How long wilt thou forget me, O
Lord?" Whatever be the pressing need of Christ's
followers in troubles, and their constant cleaving to duty for
all that; and whatever be Christ's purpose of love toward them,
yet he seeth it fit ofttimes not to come to them at first, but
will let the trial go on till it come to a height, and be a
trial indeed, and put them seriously to it; for before he came
he lets them row "about five and twenty or thirty
furlongs" (the last of which make near four miles, eight
furlongs going to a mile); and (Mark 6:48) he came not till the
fourth watch of the night, which is the morning watch. We are
indeed very sparing of ourselves in trouble, and do soon begin
to think that we are low and tried enough, and therefore would
be delivered; but our wise Lord seeth that we need more. George
Hutcheson, 1657.
Verse 1. "How long," etc. Enquire
into the causes of God's anger. He is never angry but when there
is very great reason, when we force him to be so. What is that
accursed thing in our hearts, or in our lives, for which God
hides his face, and frowns upon us? What particular disobedience
to his commands is it for which he has taken up the rod? Job
10:2; "I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; shew me
wherefore thou contendest with me;" as if he should say,
Lord, my troubles and my sorrows are very well known. . . . . .
We must not cease to be solicitous to know what are the
particular sins that have made him to tear us up by the roots,
to throw us down as with a whirlwind; what is it that has made
him so long angry with us, and so long to delay his help, that
if any evil be undiscovered in our souls, we may lament it with
a seasonable grief, and get a pardon for it. It is not the
common course of God's providence to cover his servants with so
thick a darkness as this is, which our troubled souls labour
under in the day, or rather in the night of his displeasure;
and, therefore, we may with humility desire to know why he
proceeds with us in a way that is so singular; for it is some
way delightful to the understanding to pierce into the reasons
and causes of things. Timothy Rogers.
Verse 1. "How long wilt thou forget me,"
etc. For God to forget David, not to mind him, or look
after him, is much! If his eye be never so little once off us,
the spiritual adversary is ready presently to seize on us, as
the kite on the chick if the hen look not carefully after it. .
. . . . As a father will sometimes cross his son to try the
child's disposition, to see how he will take it, whether he will
mutter and grumble at it, and grow humorous and wayward, neglect
his duty to his father because his father seemeth to neglect
him, or make offer to run away and withdraw himself from his
father's obedience because he seemeth to carry himself harshly
and roughly toward him, and to provoke him thereunto; so doth
God likewise ofttimes cross his children and seemeth to neglect
them, so to try their disposition, what metal they are made of,
how they stand affected towards him: whether they will neglect
God because God seemeth to neglect them, forbear to serve him
because he seemeth to forget them, cease to depend upon him
because he seemeth not to look after them, to provide for them,
or to protect them. Like Joram's prophane pursuivant, "This
evil," saith he, "is of the Lord; what should I wait
for the Lord any longer?" Or whether they will constantly
cleave to him, though he seem not to regard them, nor to have
any care of them; and say with Isaiah, "Yet will I wait
upon God, though he have hid his face from us, and I will look
for him though he look not on us;" for, "They are
blessed that wait on him; and he will not fail in due time to
show mercy unto all them that do so constantly wait on
him." Isaiah 8:17; 30:18. As Samuel dealt with Saul; he
kept away till the last hour, to see what Saul would do when
Samuel seemed not to keep touch with him. So doth God with his
saints, and with those that be in league with him; he
withdraweth himself oft, and keeps aloof off for a long time
together to try what they will do, and what courses they will
take when God seemeth to break with them and to leave them in
the suds, as we say; amidst many difficulties much perplexed, as
it was with David at this time. Thomas Gataker, 1637.
Verse 1.
1.
For desertions. I think them like lying fallow of lean and weak
land for some years, while it gathers sap for a better crop. It
is possible to gather gold, where it may be had, with moonlight.
Oh, if I could but creep one foot, or half a foot, nearer in to
Jesus, in such dismal night as that when he is away, I should
think it a happy absence!
2.
If I knew that the Beloved were only gone away for trial, and
further humiliation, and not smoked out of the house with new
provocations, I would forgive desertions and hold my peace at
his absence. But Christ's bought absence (that I bought with my
sin), is two running boils at once, one upon each side; and what
side then can I lie on?
3.
I know that, as night and shadows are good for flowers, and
moonlight and dews are better than a continual sun, so is
Christ's absence of special use, and that it hath some
nourishing virtue in it, and giveth sap to humility, and putteth
an edge on hunger, and furnisheth a fair field to faith to put
forth itself, and to exercise its fingers in gripping it seeth
not what. Samuel Rutherford, 1600-1661.
Verses 1, 2. That which the French proverb hath of
sickness is true of all evils, that they come on horseback and
go away on foot; we have often seen that a sudden fall, or one
meal's surfeit, has stuck by many to their graves; whereas
pleasures come like oxen, slow and heavily, and go away like
post-horses, upon the spur. Sorrows, because they are lingering
guests, I will entertain but moderately, knowing that the more
they are made of the longer they will continue: and for
pleasures, because they stay not, and do but call to drink at my
door, I will use them as passengers with slight respect. He is
his own best friend that makes the least of both of them. Joseph
Hall.
Verses 1, 2. "HOW LONG wilt thou forget me?
HOW LONG wilt thou hide thy face from me? HOW LONG shall
I take counsel in my soul?" The intenseness of the
affliction renders it trying to our fortitude; but it is by the
continuance of it that patience is put to the test. It is not
under the sharpest, but the longest trials, that we are most in
danger of fainting. In the first case, the soul collects all its
strength, and feels in earnest to call in help from above; but,
in the last, the mind relaxes, and sinks into despondency. When
Job was accosted with evil tidings in quick succession, he bore
it with becoming fortitude; but when he could see no end to his
troubles, he sunk under them. Andrew Fuller.
Verse 1-4. Everything is strangely changed; all its
comeliness, and beauty, and glory, vanishes when the life
is gone: life is the pleasant thing; 'tis sweet and comfortable;
but death with its pale attendants, raises a horror and aversion
to it everywhere. The saints of God dread the removal of his
favour, and the hiding of his face; and when it is hid, a
faintness, and a cold amazement and fear seizes upon every part,
and they feel strange bitterness, and anguish, and tribulation,
which makes their joints to tremble, and is to them as the very
pangs of death. Timothy Rogers.
Verses 1, 5, 6. Prayer helps towards the increase and
growth of grace, by drawing the habits of grace into exercise.
Now, as exercise brings benefit to the body, so does prayer to
the soul. Exercise doth help to digest or breathe forth those
humours that clog the spirits. One that stirs little we see grow
pursy, and is soon choked up with phlegm, which exercise clearly
clears the body of. Prayer is the saint's exercise-field, where
his graces are breathed; it is as the wind to the air, it
brightens the soul; as bellows to the fire, which clears the
coal of those ashes that smother them. The Christian, while in
this world, lives in an unwholesome climate; one while, the
delights of it deaden and dull his love to Christ; another
while, the trouble he meets in it damps his faith on the
promise. How now should the Christian get out of these
distempers, had he not a throne of grace to resort to, where, if
once his soul be in a melting frame, he (like one laid in a
kindly sweat), soon breathes out the malignity of his disease,
and comes into his right temper again? How often do we find the
holy prophet, when he first kneels down to pray, full of fears
and doubts, who, before he end the duty part, grows into a sweet
familiarity with God, and repose in his own spirit! (Psalm
13:1), he begins his prayer as if he thought God would never
give him a kind look more: "How long wilt thou forget
me, O Lord? for ever?" But by that time he had
exercised himself a little in duty, his distemper wears off, the
mists scatter, and his faith breaks out as the sun in its
strength, verses 5, 6: "I have trusted in thy mercy; my
heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the
Lord." Thus his faith lays the cloth, expecting a feast
ere long to be set on: he that now questioned whether he should
ever hear good news from heaven, is so strong in faith as to
make himself merry with the hopes of that mercy which he is
assured will come at last. Abraham began with fifty, but his
faith got ground on God every step, till he brought down the
price of their lives to ten. William Gurnall.
Verses 1, 6. Whatever discouragements thou meetest
with in thine attendance on God in ordinances, be like the
English jet, fired by water, and not like our ordinary fires,
quenched by it; let them add to, not diminish, thy resolution
and courage; let not one repulse beat thee off; be violent, give
a second storm to the kingdom of heaven. Parents sometimes hide
themselves to make their children continue seeking. He that
would not at first open his mouth, nor vouchsafe the woman of
Canaan a word, doth, upon her continued and fervent petition, at
last open his hand and give her whatsoever she asks: "O
woman, be it unto thee as thou wilt." Continued importunity
is undeniable oratory. And truly, if after all thy pains thou
findest Jesus Christ, will it not make amends for thy long
patience? Men that venture often at a lottery, though they take
blanks twenty times, if afterwards they get a golden bason and
ewer, it will make them abundant satisfaction. Suppose thou
shouldst continue knocking twenty, nay, forty years, yet if at
last, though but one hour before thou diest thy heart be opened
to Christ, and he be received into thy soul, and when thou diest
heaven be opened to thee, and thy soul received into it, will it
not infinitely requite thee for all thy labour? Oh, think of it,
and resolve never to be dumb while God is deaf, never to leave
off prayer till God return a gracious answer. And for thy
comfort, know that he who began his Psalm with "How long
wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? how long wilt thou hide
thy face from me?" comes to conclude it with, "I
will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with
me." George Swinnock.
Verse 2. "How long?" There are many
situations of the believer in this life in which the words of
this Psalm may be a consolation, and help to revive sinking
faith. A certain man lay at the pool of Bethesda, who had an
infirmity thirty and eight years. John: 5:5. A woman had a
spirit of infirmity eighteen years, before she was
"loosed." Luke 13:11. Lazarus all his life long
laboured under disease and poverty, till he was released by
death and transferred to Abraham's bosom. Luke 16:20-22. Let
every one, then, who may be tempted to use the complaints of
this Psalm, assure his heart that God does not forget his
people, help will come at last, and, in the meantime, all things
shall work together for good to them that love him. W.
Wilson, D.D.
Verse 2. "How long shall I take counsel in my
soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?" There is such a
thing as to pore on our guilt and wretchedness, to the
overlooking of our highest mercies. Though it be proper to know
our own hearts, for the purposes of conviction, yet, if we
expect consolation from this quarter, we shall find ourselves
sadly disappointed. Such, for a time, appears to have been the
case of David. He seems to have been in great distress; and, as
is common in such cases, his thoughts turned inward, casting in
his mind what he should do, and what would be the end of things.
While thus exercised, he had sorrow in his heart daily:
but, betaking himself to God for relief, he succeeded, trusting
in his mercy, his heart rejoiced in his salvation. There are
many persons, who, when in trouble, imitate David in the former
part of this experience: I wish we may imitate him in the
latter. Andrew Fuller.
Verse 2, 4. "How long shall my enemy be
exalted over me?" 'Tis a great relief to the miserable
and afflicted, to be pitied by others. It is some relief when
others, though they cannot help us, yet seem to be truly
concerned for the sadness of our case; when by the kindness of
their words and of their actions they do a little smooth the
wounds they cannot heal; but 'tis an unspeakable addition to the
cross, when a man is brought low under the sense of God's
displeasure, to have men mock at his calamity, or to revile him,
or to speak roughly; this does inflame and exasperate the wound
that was big enough before; and it is a hard thing when one has
a dreadful sound in his ears to have every friend to become a
son of thunder. It is a small matter for people that are at
ease, to deal severely with such as are afflicted, but they
little know how their severe speeches and their angry words
pierce them to the very soul. 'Tis easy to blame others for
complaining, but if such had felt but for a little while what it
is to be under the fear of God's anger, they would find that
they could not but complain. It cannot but make any person
restless and uneasy when he apprehends that God is his enemy. It
is no wonder if he makes every one that he sees, and every place
that he is in, a witness of his grief; but now it is a comfort
in our temptations and in our fears, that we have so
compassionate a friend as Christ is to whom we may repair.
"For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched
with the feelings of our infirmities; but was in all points
tempted like as we are, yet without sin." Hebrews 4:15. Timothy
Rogers.
Verse 3. "Lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the
sleep of death." In time of sickness and grief, the
"eyes" are dull and heavy; and they grow more and more
so as death approaches, which closes them in darkness. On the
other hand, health and joy render the organs of vision bright
and sparkling, seeming, as it were, to impart "light"
to them from within. The words, therefore, may be fitly applied
to a recovery of the body natural, and thence, of the body
politic, from their respective maladies. Nor do they less
significantly describe the restoration of the soul to a state of
spiritual health and holy joy, which will manifest themselves in
like manner, by "the eyes of the understanding being
enlightened;" and in this case, the soul is saved from the
sleep of sin, as the body is in the other, from the sleep of
death. George Horne.
Verse 3. Why dost thou hide thy face? happily
thou wilt say, None can see thy face and live. Ah, Lord, let me
die, that I may see thee; let me see thee, that I may die: I
would not live, but die; that I may see Christ, I desire death;
that I may live with Christ, I despise life. Augustine.
Verse 3. "How long wilt thou hide thy face
from me?" Oh, excellent hiding, which is become my
perfection! My God, thou hidest thy treasure, to kindle my
desire! Thou hidest thy pearl, to inflame the seeker; thou
delayest to give, that thou mayest teach me to importune;
seemest not to hear, to make me persevere. John Anselm,
1034-1109.
Verse 4.
Ah! can you bear contempt; the venom'd tongue
Of those whom ruin pleases, the keen sneer,
The lewd reproaches of the rascal herd;
Who for the selfsame actions, if successful,
Would be as grossly lavish in your praise?
To sum up all in one— can you support
The scornful glances, the malignant joy,
Or more, detested pity of a rival—
Of a triumphant rival?
James Thomson, 1700-1748.
Verse 4. "And those that trouble me rejoice
when I am moved"— compose comedies out of my
tragedies. John Trapp.
Verse 5. "I have trusted in thy mercy; my
heart shall rejoice in thy salvation." Faith rejoiceth
in tribulation, and triumpheth before the victory. The patient
is glad when he feels his physic to work, though it make him
sick for the time; because he hopes it will procure health. We
rejoice in afflictions, not that they are joyous for the
present, but because they shall work for our good. As faith
rejoiceth, so it triumpheth in assurance of good success; for it
seeth not according to outward appearance, but when all means
fail, it keepeth God in sight, and beholdeth him present for our
succour. John Ball.
Verse 5. "I have trusted in thy mercy; my
heart shall rejoice in thy salvation." Though passion
possess our bodies, let "patience possess our souls."
The law of our profession binds us to a warfare; patiendo
vincimus, our troubles shall end, our victory is eternal.
Here David's triumph (Psalm 18:38-40), "I have wounded
them, that they were not able to rise; they are fallen under my
feet. Thou hast subdued under me those that rose up against me.
Thou hast also given me the neck of mine enemies," etc.
They have wounds for their wounds; and the treaders down of the
poor are trodden down by the poor. The Lord will subdue those to
us that would have subdued us to themselves; and though for a
short time they rode over our heads, yet now at last we shall
everlastingly tread upon their necks. Lo, then, the reward of
humble patience and confident hope. Speramus et superamus.
Deuteronomy 32:31. "Our God is not as their God, even our
enemies being judges." Psalm 20:7. "Some put their
trust in chariots, and some in horses." But no chariot hath
strength to oppose, nor horse swiftness to escape, when God
pursues. Verse 8. "They are brought down and fallen; we are
risen and stand upright." Their trust hath deceived them;
down they fall, and never to rise. Our God hath helped us; we
are risen, not for a breathing space, but to stand upright for
ever. Thomas Adams.
Verse 5. None live so easily, so pleasantly, as those
that live by faith. Matthew Henry.
Verse 5. Wherefore I say again, "Live by
faith;" again I say, always live by it, rejoice through
faith in the Lord. I dare boldly say it is thy fault and neglect
of its exercise if thou suffer either thy own melancholy humour
or Satan to interrupt thy mirth and spiritual alacrity, and to
detain thee in dumps and pensiveness at any time. What if thou
beest of a sad constitution? of a dark complexion? Is not faith
able to rectify nature? Is it not stronger than any hellebore?
Doth not an experienced divine and physician worthily prefer one
dram of it before all the drugs in the apothecary's shop for
this effect? Hath it not sovereign virtue in it, to excerebrate
all cares, expectorate all fears and griefs, evacuate the mind
of all ill thoughts and passions, to exhilarate the whole man?
But what good doth it to any to have a cordial by him if he use
it not? To wear a sword, soldier-like, by his side, and not to
draw it forth in an assault? When a dump overtakes thee, if thou
wouldst say to thy soul in a word or two, "Soul, why art
thou disquieted? know and consider in whom thou believest,"
would it not presently return to its rest again? Would not the
Master rebuke the winds and storms, and calm thy troubled mind
presently? Hath not every man something or other he useth to put
away dumps, to drive away the evil spirit, as David with his
harp? Some with merry company, some with a cup of sack, most
with a pipe of tobacco, without which they cannot ride or go. If
they miss it a day together they are troubled with rheums,
dulness of spirits. They that live in fens and ill airs dare not
stir out without a morning draught of some strong liquor. Poor,
silly, smoky helps, in comparison with the least taste (but for
dishonouring faith I would say whiff) or draught of faith. Samuel
Ward, 1577-1653.
Verse 6. "I will sing unto the Lord, because
he hath dealt bountifully with me." Faith keeps the
soul from sinking under heavy trials, by bringing in former
experiences of the power, mercy, and faithfulness of God to the
afflicted soul. Hereby was the psalmist supported in distress.
Oh, saith faith, remember what God hath done both for thy
outward and inward man: he hath not only delivered thy body when
in trouble, but he hath done great things for thy soul; he hath
brought thee out of a state of black nature, entered into a
covenant relation with thee, made his goodness pass before thee;
he hath helped thee to pray, and many times hath heard thy
prayers and thy tears. Hath he not formerly brought thee out of
the horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and put a new song
in thy mouth, and made thee to resolve never to give way to such
unbelieving thoughts and fears again? and how unbecoming is it
for thee now to sink in trouble? John Willison,
1680-1750.
Verse 6. "I will sing unto the Lord."
Mr. John Philpot having lain for some time in the bishop of
London's coal-house, the bishop sent for him, and amongst other
questions, asked him why they were so merry in prison? singing
(as the prophet speaks) Exultantes in rebus pessimis,
rejoicing in your naughtiness, whereas you should rather lament
and be sorry. Mr. Philpot answered, "My lord, the mirth
which we make is but in singing certain Psalms, as we are
commanded by Paul, to rejoice in the Lord, singing together
hymns and Psalms, for we are in a dark, comfortless place, and
therefore, we thus solace ourselves. I trust, therefore, your
lordship will not be angry, seeing the apostle saith, 'If any be
of an upright heart, let him sing Psalms;' and we, to declare
that we are of an upright mind to God, though we are in misery,
yet refresh ourselves with such singing." After some other
discourse, saith he, "I was carried back to my lord's
coal-house, where I, with my six fellow prisoners, do rouze
together in the straw, as cheerfully (I thank God) as others do
in their beds of down." And in a letter to a friend, he
thus writes: "Commend me to Mr. Elsing and his wife, and
thank them for providing me some ease in my prison; and tell
them though my lord's coal-house be very black, yet it is more
to be desired of the faithful than the Queen's palace. The world
wonders how we can be so merry under such extreme miseries; but
our God is omnipotent, who turns misery into felicity. Believe
me, there is no such joy in the world, as the people of God have
under the cross of Christ: I speak by experience, and therefore
believe me, and fear nothing that the world can do unto you, for
when they imprison our bodies, they set our souls at liberty to
converse with God; when they cast us down, they lift us up; when
they kill us, then do they send us to everlasting life. What
greater glory can there be than to be made conformable to our
Head, Christ? And this is done by affliction. O good God, what
am I, upon whom thou shouldst bestow so great a mercy? This is
the day which the Lord hath made; let us rejoice and be glad in
it. This is the way, though it be narrow, which is full of the
peace of God, and leadeth to eternal bliss. Oh, how my heart
leapeth for joy that I am so near the apprehension thereof! God
forgive me my unthankfulness, and unworthiness of so great
glory. I have so much joy, that though I be in a place of
darkness and mourning, yet I cannot lament; but both night and
day am so full of joy as I never was so merry before; the Lord's
name be praised for ever. Our enemies do fret, fume, and gnash
their teeth at it. O pray instantly that this joy may never be
taken from us; for it passeth all the delights in this world.
This is the peace of God that passeth all understanding. This
peace, the more his chosen be afflicted, the more they feel it,
and therefore cannot faint neither for fire nor water. Samuel
Clarke's "Mirrour," 1671.
Verse 6. "I will sing unto the Lord."
How far different is the end of this Psalm from the beginning! John
Trapp.
Verse 6. " I will sing unto the Lord,"
etc. I never knew what it was for God to stand by me at all
turns, and at every offer of Satan to afflict me, etc., as I
have found him since I came in hither; for look how fears have
presented themselves, so have supports and encouragements; yea,
when I have started, even as it were at nothing else but my
shadow, yet God, as being very tender to me, hath not suffered
me to be molested, but would with one Scripture or another,
strengthen me against all; insomuch that I have often said, Were
it lawful, I could pray for greater trouble, for the greater
comfort's sake. Ecclesiastes 7:14; 2 Corinthians 1:5. John
Bunyan, 1628-1688.
HINTS TO THE VILLAGE PREACHER
Verse 1. The apparent length of sorrow, only apparent.
Contrast with days of joy, with eternal misery and eternal joy.
Impatience, and other evil passions, cause the seeming length.
Means of shortening, by refusing to forestall, or to repine
afterwards.
Verse 1 (second clause). Hiding of the divine
face. Why at all? Why from me? Why so long?
Verse 2. Advice to the dejected, or the soul directed
to look out of itself for consolation. A. Fuller.
Verse 2 (first clause).— Self-torture,
its cause, curse, crime, and cure.
Verse 2. "Having sorrow in my heart
daily."
I.
The cause of daily sorrow. Great enemy, unbelief, sin, trial,
loss of Jesus' presence, sympathy with others, mourning for
human ruin.
II.
The necessity of daily sorrow. Purge corruptions, excite graces,
raise desires heavenward.
III.
The cure of daily sorrow. Good food from God's table, old wine
of promises, walks with Jesus, exercise in good works, avoidance
of everything unhealthy. B. Davies.
Verse 2 (second clause).— Time anticipated
when defeat shall be turned into victory.
Verse 3. By accomodating the text to the believer.
I.
True character of Satan, "enemy."
II.
Remarkable fact that this enemy is exalted over us.
III.
Pressing enquiry, "How long?" B. Davies.
Verse 3. " Lighten mine eyes." A
prayer fit for (1) Every benighted sinner. (2) Every seeker of
salvation. (3) Every learner in Christ's school. (4) Every tried
believer. (5) Every dying saint. B. Davies.
Verse 4. Noteth the nature of the wicked two ways;
namely, the more they prevail the more insolent they are; they
wonderfully exult over those that are afflicted. T. Wilcocks.
Verse 5. Experience and perseverance. "I
have," "my heart shall."
Verse 6. The bountiful giver and the hearty singer.
The whole Psalm would make a good subject, showing the
stages from mourning to rejoicing, dwelling especially upon the
turning point, prayer. There are two verses for each, mourning,
praying, rejoicing. A. G. Brown.