know to be sure, and regularly constant in his motions; the clock, as it
may fall out, may go too fast or too slow. As then, we should condemn
him of folly that should profess to trust the clock rather than the sun,
so we cannot but justly tax the credulity of those who would rather
trust to the church than to the Scripture.—_Bishop Hall._
_Verse 6.—“The words of the Lord are pure words.”_ Men may inspect
detached portions of the Book, and please themselves with some things,
which, at first view, have the semblance of conniving at what is wrong.
But let them read it, let them read the whole of it; let them carry
along in their minds the character of the persons to which the different
portions of it were addressed; the age of the world, and the
circumstances under which the different parts of it were written, and
the particular objects which even those portions of it have in view,
which to an infidel mind appear the most exceptionable; and they may be
rationally convinced that, instead of originating in the bosom of an
impostor, it owes its origin to men who wrote “as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost.” Let them scrutinise it with as much severity as they
please; only let their scrutiny be well informed, wisely directed, and
with a fair and ingenuous mind, and we have no fears for the issue.
There are portions of it on which ignorance and folly have put
constructions that are forced and unnatural, and which impure minds have
viewed in shadows reflected from their own impurity. Montesquieu said of
Voltaire, _Lorsque Voltaire lit un livre, il le fait, puis il écrit
contre ce qu’il a fait_: “When Voltaire reads a book, he makes it what
he pleases, and then writes against what he has made.” It is no
difficult matter to besmear and blot its pages, and then impute the foul
stains that men of corrupt minds have cast upon it, to its stainless
Author. But if we honestly look at it as it is, we shall find that like
its Author, it is without blemish and without spot.—_Gardiner Spring,
D.D._
_Verse 6.—“The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried in a
furnace of earth, purified seven times.”_ The expression may import two
things: first, the infallible certainty of the word; and, secondly, the
exact purity. First, the infallible certainty of the word, as gold
endureth in the fire when the dross is consumed. Vain conceits comfort
us not in a time of trouble; but the word of God, the more it is tried,
the more you will find the excellency of it—the promise is tried, as
well as we are tried, in deep afflictions; but, when it is so, it will
be found to be most pure, “The word of the Lord is tried; he is a
buckler to all those that trust in him” (Prov. xxx. 5); as pure gold
suffers no loss by the fire, so the promises suffer no loss when they
are tried, but stand to us in our greatest troubles. Secondly, it notes
the exact perfection of the word: there is no dross in silver and gold
that hath been often refined; so there is no defect in the word of
God.—_Thomas Manton._
_Verse 6._—Fry thus translates this verse:—
The words of Jehovah are pure words—
Silver refined in the crucible—
Gold, seven times washed from the earth.
מְזֻּקָק though sometimes applied to express the purity of silver, is
more strictly an epithet of gold, from the peculiar method made use of
in separating it from the soil by repeated washings and
decantations.—_John Fry, in loc._
_Verse 6.—“Seven times.”_ I cannot but admit that there may be a mystic
meaning in the expression “_seven times_,” in allusion to the seven
periods of the church, or to that perfection, implied in the figure
seven, to which it is to be brought at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
This will be more readily allowed by those who admit of the prophetic
interpretation of the seven epistles of the Book of Revelation.—_W.
Wilson, D.D., in loc._
_Verse 8.—“When the vilest men are exalted:”_ Heb., _vilities_,
οὐτίδανοι, the abstract for the concrete, _quisquiliæ_, οὐτίδανοι. Oft,
empty vessels swim aloft, rotten posts are gilt with adulterate gold,
the worst weeds spring up bravest. Chaff will get to the top of the fan,
when good corn, as it lieth at the bottom of the heap, so it falls low
at the feet of the fanner. The reason why wicked men “_walk_” on every
side, are so brisk, so busy (and who but they?) is given to be this,
because losels and rioters were exalted. See Prov. xxviii. 12, 18, and
xxix. 2. As rheums and catarrhs fall from the head to the lungs and
cause a consumption of the whole body, so it is in the body politic. As
a fish putrefies first in the head and then in all the parts, so here.
Some render the text thus, “_When they_ (that is, the wicked) _are
exalted_,” it is a “_shame_ for the sons of men,” that other men who
better deserve preferment, are not only slighted, but vilely handled by
such worthless ambitionists, who yet the higher they climb, as apes, the
more they discover their deformities.—_John Trapp._
_Verse 8._—Good thus translates this verse:—
Should the wicked advance on every side;
Should the dregs of the earth be uppermost?
The original is given literally, זֻלּוּת means “fœces, fœculences,
dregs.” כְּרֻם is here an adverb, and imports _uppermost_, rather than
_exalted_.—_J. Mason Good, in loc._
HINTS TO PREACHERS.
_Verse 1.—“Help, Lord.”_ I. The Prayer itself, short, suggestive,
seasonable, rightly directed, vehement. II. Occasions for its use. III.
Modes of its answer. IV. Reasons for expecting gracious reply.
_First two clauses._—Text for funeral of an eminent believer.
_Whole verse._—I. _The fact bewailed_—describe godly and faithful, and
show how they fail. II. _The feeling excited._ Mourning the loss, fears
for church, personal need of such companions, appeal to God. III. _The
forebodings aroused._ Failure of the cause, judgments impending, etc.
IV. _The faith remaining_: “Help, Lord.”
_Verse 1._—Intimate connection between yielding honour to God and
honesty to man, since they decline together.
_Verse 2 (first clause)._—A discourse upon the prevalence and
perniciousness of vain talk.
_The whole verse._—Connection between flattery and treachery.
“_A double heart._” Right and wrong kinds of hearts, and the disease of
duplicity.
_Verse 3._—God’s hatred of those twin sins of the lips—Flattery and
Pride (which is self flattery). Why he hates them. How he shows his
hatred. In whom he hates them most. How to be cleansed from them.
_Verse 3, 4._—I. _The revolt of the tongue._ Its claim of power,
self-possession, and liberty. Contrast between this and the believer’s
confession, “we are not our own.” II. _The method of its
rebellion_—“flattery, and speaking proud things.” III. _The end of its
treason_—“cut off.”
_Verse 5._—The Lord aroused—How! Why! What to do! When!
_Last clause._—Peculiar danger of believers from those who despise them
and their special safety. Good practical topic.
_Verse 6._—The purity, trial, and permanency of the words of the Lord.
Seven crucibles in which believers try the word. A little thought will
suggest these.
_Verse 7._—Preservation from one’s generation in life and for ever. A
very suggestive theme.
_Verse 8._—_Sin in high places specially infectious._ Call to the rich
and prominent to remember their responsibility. Thankfulness for
honourable rulers. Discrimination to be used in choice of our
representatives, or civic magistrates.
PSALM XIII.
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.
How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD for ever? how long wilt thou
hide thy face from me?
2 How long shall I take counsel in my soul, _having_ sorrow in my
heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?
“_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. “_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 mine 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 upon 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 _Miserere_ than in
chanting a _Te Deum_.
3 Consider _and_ hear me, O Lord my God! lighten mine eyes, lest I
sleep the _sleep_ of death;
4 Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; _and_ those
that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.
But now prayer lifteth up her voice, like the watchman who proclaims the
day-break. 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.
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.
5 But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy
salvation.
6 I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with
me.
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 the 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 turned away;
Comfortable thoughts arise
From the bleeding sacrifice.”
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 iv. 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; Isa.
liv. 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
towards 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 vi. 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 cause 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 x. 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 towards 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 still
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.”
Isa. viii. 17; xxx. 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 oft 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._