1 Happy the man who considers the helpless;
In the day of calamity will Jehovah deliver him
2 Jehovah will preserve him and keep him alive,
--He shall be counted happy in the land,--
And do not Thou give him up to the wrath of his enemies.
3 Jehovah will sustain him on the bed of languishing;
All his lying down in his sickness Thou hast turned into health.
4 As for me, I said, Jehovah, be merciful to me,
Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee.
5 My enemies speak evil against me:
"When will he die, and his name perish?"
6 And if one [of them] comes to see [me], he speaks falsehood
(insincere sympathy);
His heart collects malice for itself;
He goes forth, he speaks it.
7 Together against me do all my haters whisper;
Against me they plan my hurt:
8 "A fatal thing is fixed upon him,
And he who has [now] lain down will rise no more."
9 Even the man of my peace, in whom I trusted, who ate my bread,
Has lifted his heel against me.
10 But Thou, Jehovah, be merciful to me and raise me up,
That I may requite them.
11 By this I know that Thou delightest in me,
Since my enemy triumphs not over me.
12 And as for me, in my integrity Thou upholdest me,
And settest me before Thy face for ever.
13 Blessed be Jehovah, the God of Israel,
From everlasting and to everlasting
Amen and Amen.
The central mass of this psalm describes the singer as suffering from
two evils: sickness and treacherous friends. This situation naturally
leads up to the prayer and confidence of the closing strophe (vv.
10-12). But its connection with the introductory verses (1-3) is less
plain. A statement of the blessings ensured to the compassionate
seems a singular introduction to the psalmist's pathetic exhibition
of his sorrows. Cheyne thinks that the opening verses were added by
the framer of the collection to adapt the poem to the use of the
Church of his own time, and that "the original opening must have been
different" ("Orig. of Psalt.," 246, _n._). It is to be observed,
however, that the two points of the psalmist's affliction are the
two from which escape is assured to the compassionate, who shall not
be "delivered to the desire of his enemies," and shall be supported
and healed in sickness. Probably, therefore, the general promises of
vv. 1-3 are silently applied by the psalmist to himself; and he is
comforting his own sorrow with the assurance which in his humility he
casts into impersonal form. He has been merciful, and believes, though
things look dark, that he will obtain mercy. There is probably also
an intentional contrast with the cruel exacerbation of his sufferings
by uncompassionate companions, which has rubbed salt into his wounds.
He has a double consciousness in these opening verses, inasmuch as he
partly thinks of himself as the compassionate man and partly as the
"weak" one who is compassionated.
The combination of sickness and treachery is remarkable, especially
if the former is taken literally, as the strongly marked details seem
to require. The sick man is visited by an insincere sympathiser, who
is all eyes to note symptoms of increasing weakness, and all tongue,
as soon as he gets out of the sick-room, to give the result, which is
to his malice the better the worse it is. Such a picture looks as if
drawn from life, and the sketch of the traitor friend seems to be a
portrait of a real person. The supporters of the post-exilic date and
national interpretation of the psalm have not succeeded in pointing out
who the false friends of Israel were, who seemed to condole with, and
really rejoiced over, its weakness, or who were the treacherous allies
who failed it. The theory of the Davidic origin has in its favour the
correspondence of Ahithophel's treason with the treachery of the trusted
friend in the psalm; and, while it must be admitted that there is no
mention of sickness in the narrative in 2 Samuel, the supposition that
trouble of conscience had brought illness gains some countenance from
Psalm xxxii., if it is Davidic, and would naturally explain David's
singular passiveness whilst Absalom was hatching his plot.
The psalm may be divided into four strophes, of which, however, the two
middle ones cohere very closely. Vv. 1-3 give the mercy requited to
the merciful; vv. 4-6, after a brief prayer and confession begin the
picture of the psalmist's sufferings, which is carried on through the
next strophe (vv. 7-9), with the difference that in the former the scene
is mainly the sick man's chamber, and in the latter the meeting-place
of the secret conspirators. Vv. 10-12 build on this picture of distress
a prayer for deliverance, and rise to serene confidence in its certain
answer. The closing doxology is not part of the psalm, but is appended
as the conclusion of the first book of the Psalter.
The principle that God's dealings with us correspond to our dealings
with men, as clouds are moulded after the curves of the mountains
which they touch, is no less characteristic of the New Testament
than of the Old. The merciful obtain mercy; God forgives those who
forgive their brethren. The absoluteness of statement in this psalm
is, of course, open to misunderstanding; but the singer had not such
a superficial view of his relations to God as to suppose that kindly
sympathy was the sole condition of Divine compassion. That virtue,
the absence of which added pangs to his pains, might well seem to a
sufferer writhing under the bitterness of its opposite the Divinest
of all excellencies, and worthiest of recompense. That its requital
should be mainly considered as consisting in temporal deliverance
and physical health is partly due to the characteristics of the Old
Testament promises of blessedness, and partly to the psalmist's
momentary needs. We have noted that these are reflected in the
blessings promised in vv. 1-3. The "happy" of ver. 1 is caught up in
the abruptly introduced "He shall be counted happy" of ver. 2, which
may carry tacit reference to the malicious slanders that aggravated
the psalmist's sufferings, and anticipates deliverance so perfect
that all who see him shall think him fortunate. The next clause rises
into direct address of Jehovah, and is shown by the form of the
negative in the Hebrew to be petition, not assertion, thus strongly
confirming the view that "me" lurks below "him" in this context. A
similar transition from the third to the second person occurs in ver.
3, as if the psalmist drew closer to his God. There is also a change
of tense in the verbs there: "Jehovah _will_ sustain"; "Thou _hast_
turned," the latter tense converting the general truth expressed in
the former clause into a fact of experience. The precise meaning of
this verse is questioned, some regarding both clauses as descriptive
of tender nursing, which sustains the drooping head and smoothes the
crumpled bedding, while others, noting that the word rendered "bed"
(A.V. and R.V.) in the second clause means properly "lying down," take
that clause as descriptive of turning sickness into convalescence. The
latter meaning gives a more appropriate ending to the strophe, as it
leaves the sick man healed, not tossing on a disordered bed, as the
other explanation does. Jehovah does not half cure.
The second and third strophes (vv. 4-9) are closely connected. In
them the psalmist recounts his sorrows and pains, but first breathes
a prayer for mercy, and bases it no longer on his mercifulness, but
on his sin. Only a shallow experience will find contradiction here to
either the former words, or to the later profession of "integrity"
(ver. 12). The petition for soul-healing does not prove that sickness
in the following verses is figurative, but results from the belief that
sorrow is the effect of sin, a view which belongs to the psalmist's
stage of revelation, and is not to be held by Christians in the same
absolute fashion. If the Davidic origin of the psalm is recognised,
the connection of the king's great sin with all his after-sorrows is
patent. However he had been merciful and compassionate in general, his
own verdict on the man in Nathan's parable was that he "showed no pity,"
and that sin bore bitter fruit in all his life. It was the parent of
all the sensual outrages in his own house; it underlay Ahithophel's
treachery; it had much to do in making his reign abhorred; it brought
the fuel which Absalom fired, and if our supposition is right as to the
origin of the sickness spoken of in this psalm, that sin and the remorse
that followed it gnawed at the roots of bodily health. So the psalmist,
if he is indeed the royal sinner, had need to pray for soul-healing
first, even though he was conscious of much compassion and hoped for
its recompense. While he speaks thus to Jehovah, his enemies speak
in a different tone. The "evil" which they utter is not calumny, but
malediction. Their hatred is impatient for his death. The time seems
long till they can hear of it. One of them comes on a hypocritical
visit of solicitude ("see" is used for visiting the sick in 2 Kings
viii. 29), and speaks lying condolence, while he greedily collects
encouraging symptoms that the disease is hopeless. Then he hurries
back to tell how much worse he had found the patient; and that ignoble
crew delight in the good news, and send it flying. This very special
detail goes strongly in favour of the view that we have in this whole
description a transcript of literal, personal experience. There were
plenty of concealed enemies round David in the early stages of Absalom's
conspiracy, who would look eagerly for signs of his approaching death,
which might save the need of open revolt and plunge the kingdom into
welcome confusion. The second strophe ends with the exit of the false
friend.
The third (vv. 7-9) carries him to the meeting-place of the plotters,
who eagerly receive and retail the good news that the sick man is
worse. They feed their ignoble hate by picturing further ill as laying
hold of him. Their wish is parent to their thought, which is confirmed
by the report of their emissary. "A thing of Belial is poured out on
him," or "is fastened upon him," say they. That unusual expression
may refer either to moral or physical evil. In the former sense it
would here mean the sufferer's sin, in the latter a fatal disease.
The connection makes the physical reference the more likely. This
incurable disease is conceived of as "poured out," or perhaps as
"molten on him," so that it cannot be separated from him. Therefore
he will never rise from his sick-bed. But even this murderous glee
is not the psalmist's sharpest pang. "The man of my peace," trusted,
honoured, admitted to the privileges, and therefore bound by the
obligations, of hospitality so sacred in the old world, has kicked
the prostrate sufferer, as the ass in the fable did the sick lion.
The treachery of Ahithophel at once occurs to mind. No doubt many
treacherous friends have wounded many trustful hearts, but the
correspondence of David's history with this detail is not to be got
rid of by the observation that treachery is common. Still less is it
sufficient to quote Obad. 7, where substantially the same language
is employed in reference to the enemies of Edom, as supporting the
national reference of the present passage. No one denies that false
allies may be described by such a figure, or that nations may be
personified; but is there any event in the post-exilic history which
shows Israel deceived and spurned by trusted allies? The Davidic
authorship and the personal reference of the psalm are separable. But
if the latter is adopted, it will be hard to find any circumstances
answering so fully to the details of the psalm as the Absalomic
rebellion and Ahithophel's treason. Our Lord's quotation of part of
ver. 9, with the significant omission of "in whom I trusted," does not
imply the Messianic character of the psalm, but is an instance of an
event and a saying which were not meant as prophetic, finding fuller
realisation in the life of the perfect type of suffering godliness
than in the original sufferer.
The last strophe (vv. 10-12) recurs to prayer, and soars to confidence
born of communion. A hand stretched out in need and trust soon comes
back filled with blessings. Therefore here the moment of true petition
is the moment of realised answer. The prayer traverses the malicious
hopes of enemies. They had said, "He will rise no more"; it prays,
"Raise me up." It touches a note which sounds discordant in the desire
"that I may requite them"; and it is far more truly reverential and
appreciative of the progress of revelation to recognise the relative
inferiority of the psalmist's wish to render _quid pro quo_ than to put
violence on his words, in order to harmonise them with Christian ethics,
or to slur over the distinction between the Law, of which the keynote
was retribution, and the Gospel, of which it is forgiveness.
But the last words of the psalm are sunny with the assurance of present
favour and with boundless hope. The man is still lying on his sick-bed,
ringed by whispering foes. There is no change without, but this change
has passed: that he has tightened his hold of God, and therefore can
feel that his enemies' whispers will never rise or swell into a shout
of victory over him. He can speak of the future deliverance as if
present; and he can look ahead over an indefinite stretch of sunlit
country, scarcely knowing whether the furthest point is earth or no. His
integrity is not sinless, nor does he plead it as a reason for Jehovah's
upholding, but hopes for it as the consequence of His sustaining hand.
He knows that he will have close approach to Jehovah; and though, no
doubt, "for ever" on his lips meant less than it does on ours, his
assurance of continuous communion with God reached, if not to actual,
clear consciousness of immortality, at all events to assurance of a
future so indefinitely extended, and so brightened by the sunlight
of God's face, that it wanted but little additional extension or
brightening to be the full assurance of life immortal.