petition, available at all seasons, let us use it full often. It is the
publican’s prayer; be it ours. If God hears prayer, it is a great act of
mercy; our petitions do not merit a reply. “_Lord, be thou my helper._”
Another compact, expressive, ever fitting prayer. It is suitable to
hundreds of the cases of the Lord’s people; it is well becoming in the
minister when he is going to preach, to the sufferer upon the bed of
pain, to the toiler in the field of service, to the believer under
temptation, to the man of God under adversity; when God helps,
difficulties vanish. He is the help of his people, a very present help
in trouble. The two brief petitions of this verse are commended as
ejaculations to believers full of business, denied to those longer
seasons of devotion which are the rare privilege of those whose days are
spent in retirement.
11 Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put
off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.
12 To the end that _my_ glory may sing praise to thee, and not be
silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.
11. Observe the contrast, God takes away the mourning of his people; and
what does he give them instead of it? Quiet and peace? Ay, and a great
deal more than that. “_Thou hast turned for me my mourning into
dancing._” He makes their hearts to dance at the sound of his name. He
takes off their sackcloth. That is good. What a delight to be rid of the
habiliments of woe! But what then? He clothes us. And how? With some
common dress? Nay, but with that royal vestment which is the array of
glorified spirits in heaven. “_Thou hast girded me with gladness._” This
is better than to wear garments of silk or cloth of gold, bedight with
embroidery and bespangled with gems. Many a poor man wears this heavenly
apparel wrapped around his heart, though fustian and corduroy are his
only outward garb; and such a man needs not envy the emperor in all his
pomp. Glory be to thee, O God, if, by a sense of full forgiveness and
present justification, thou hast enriched my spiritual nature, and
filled me with all the fulness of God.
12. “_To the end_”—namely, with this view and intent—“_that my
glory_”—that is, my tongue or my soul—“_may sing praise to thee, and not
be silent_.” It would be a shameful crime, if, after receiving God’s
mercies, we should forget to praise him. God would not have our tongues
lie idle while so many themes for gratitude are spread on every hand. He
would have no dumb children in the house. They are all to sing in
heaven, and therefore they should all sing on earth. Let us sing with
the poet:—
“I would begin the music here,
And so my soul should rise:
Oh for some heavenly notes to bear
My passions to the skies.”
“_O Lord my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever._”
“I’ll praise him in life; I’ll praise him in death;
I’ll praise him as long as he lendeth me breath;
And say when the death-dew lies cold on my brow.
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.”
EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS.
_Title.—“A Psalm and Song,”_ etc. It is thought that when these two
words of _Psalm and Song_ are both put in the title of a Psalm, it is
meant that the sound of instruments was to be joined with the voice when
they were sung in the Temple, and that the voice went _before_ when it
is said _Song and Psalm_, and did come _after_ when it is said _Psalm
and Song_.—_John Diodati._
_Title.—At the dedication of it._ חֲנֻכַּת הַבַּיִת The original word
חָנַךְ signifies _initiari_, ἐγκαινίζειν, _rei novæ primam
usurpationem_. So Cocceius, to initiate, or the first use that is made
of anything. It was common, when any person had finished a house and
entered into it, to celebrate it with great rejoicing, and keep a
festival, to which his friends were invited, and to perform some
religious ceremonies, to secure the protection of heaven. Thus, when the
second temple was finished, the Priests and Levites, and the rest of the
captivity, kept the dedication of the house of God with joy, and offered
numerous sacrifices. Ezra vi. 16. We read in the New Testament (John x.
22), of _the feast of the dedication_ appointed by Judas Maccabæus, in
memory of the purification and restoration of the temple of Jerusalem,
after it had been defiled and almost laid in ruins by Antiochus
Epiphanes; and celebrated annually, to the time of its destruction by
Titus, by solemn sacrifices, music, songs, and hymns, to the praises of
God, and feasts, and everything that could give the people pleasure, for
eight days successively. Josephus Ant. i. xii. § 7. Judas ordained, that
“the days of the dedication should be kept in their season, from year to
year, with mirth and gladness.” 1 Mac. iv. 59. And that this was
customary, even amongst private persons, to keep a kind of religious
festival, upon their first entrance into a new house, appears from the
order of God (Deut. xx. 5), that no person who had built a new house
should be forced into the army. “if he had not dedicated the house,”
_i.e._, taken possession of it according to the usual ceremonies
practised on such occasions; a custom this that hath more or less
prevailed amongst all nations. Thus the Romans dedicated their temples,
their theatres, their statues, and their palaces and houses. Suet.
Octav. c. xliii. § 13; c. xxxi. § 9.—_Samuel Chandler._
_Title._—The present Psalm is the only one that is called a _shir_, or
song, in the first book of the Psalms, _i.e._, Psalms i.-xli. The word
שִׁיר shir is found in the titles of Psalms xlv., xlvi., xlviii.,
lxv.-lxviii., lxxv., lxxxiii., lxxxvii., lxxxviii., xcii., cviii.,
cxx.-cxxxiv. Psalm xviii. is entitled, “_a shirah_ (or _song_) of
deliverance from his enemies,” and the present _shir_ may be coupled
with it.—_Christopher Wordsworth._
_Title._—As by offering the first fruits to God they acknowledged that
they received the increase of the whole year from him, in like manner,
by consecrating their houses to God, they declared that they were God’s
tenants, confessing that they were strangers, and that it was he who
lodged, and gave them a habitation there. If a levy for war, therefore,
took place, this was a just cause of exemption, when any one alleged
that he had not yet dedicated his house. Besides, they were at the same
time admonished by this ceremony, that every one enjoyed his house
aright and regularly, only when he so regulated it that it was as it
were a sanctuary of God, and that true piety and the pure worship of God
reigned in it. The types of the law have now ceased, but we must still
keep to the doctrine of Paul, that whatsoever things God appoints for
our use are still “sanctified by the word of God and prayer.” 1 Tim. iv.
4, 5.—_John Calvin._
_Whole Psalm._—Calmet supposes it to have been made by David on the
dedication of the place which he built on the threshing-floor of
Araunah, after the grievous _plague_ which had so nearly desolated the
kingdom. 2 Sam. xxiv. 25; 1 Chron. xxi. 26. All the parts of the Psalm
agree to this: and they agree to this so well, and to no other
hypothesis, that I feel myself justified in modelling the comment on
this principle alone.—_Adam Clarke._
_Whole Psalm._—In the following verses I have endeavoured to give the
spirit of the Psalm, and to preserve the frequent antitheses.
I will exalt thee, Lord of hosts,
For thou’st exalted me;
Since thou hast silenced Satan’s boasts,
I’ll therefore boast in thee.
My sins had brought me near the grave,
The grave of black despair;
I look’d but there was none to save,
Till I look’d up in prayer.
In answer to my piteous cries,
From hell’s dark brink I’m brought:
My Jesus saw me from the skies,
And swift salvation wrought.
All through the night I wept full sore,
But morning brought relief;
That hand, which broke my bones before,
Then broke my bonds of grief.
My mourning he to dancing turns,
For sackcloth joy he gives,
A moment, Lord, thine anger burns,
But long thy favour lives.
Sing with me then, ye favoured men,
Who long have known his grace;
With thanks recall the seasons when
Ye also sought his face.
_C. H. S._
_Verse 1.—“I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up.”_ I
will lift thee up, for thou hast lifted me up.—_Adam Clarke._
_Verse 1.—“Thou hast lifted me up.”_ דִּלִּיתָנִי. The verb is used, in
its original meaning, to denote the _reciprocating motion of the buckets
of a well_, one descending as the other rises, and vice versa; and is
here applied with admirable propriety, to point out the various
reciprocations and changes of David’s fortunes, as described in this
Psalm, as to prosperity and adversity; and particularly that gracious
reverse of his afflicted condition which he now celebrates, God having
raised him up to great honour and prosperity; for having built his
palace, he “perceived that the Lord had established him king over
Israel, and that he had exalted his kingdom for his people Israel’s
sake.”—2 Sam. v. 12.—_Samuel Chandler._
_Verse 2.—“Thou hast healed me.”_ תִּרְפָּאֵנִי. The verb is used,
either for the healing of bodily disorders (Psalm ciii. 3), or to denote
the happy alteration of any person’s affairs, either in private or
public life, by the removal of any kind of distress, personal or
national. Psalm cvii. 20; Isaiah xix. 22. So in the place before us:
“_Thou hast healed me_,” means, Thou hast brought me out of my
distresses, hast restored my health, and rendered me safe and
prosperous. Under Saul, he was frequently in the most imminent danger of
his life, out of which God wonderfully brought him, which he strongly
expresses by saying, “_Thou hast brought up my soul from_ Hades: _thou
hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit_.” I thought
myself lost, and that nothing could prevent my destruction, and can
scarce help looking on the deliverance thou hast vouchsafed me otherwise
than as a kind of restoration from the dead: _Thou hast revived me_, or
recovered me to life, _from amongst those who go down to the pit_;
according to the literal rendering of the latter clause.—_Samuel
Chandler._
_Verse 4.—“Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his.”_ If it were to sing
of another thing, I should require the whole quire of God’s creatures to
join in the singing; but now that it is to sing of God’s “_holiness_,”
what should profane voices do in the concert? None but “_saints_” are
fit to sing of “holiness,” and specially of God’s holiness; but most
specially with songs of holiness.—_Sir Richard Baker._
_Verse 4.—“Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his.”_ As God requires
outward and inward worship, so a spiritual frame for inward worship may
be forwarded by the outward composure. Gazing drowsiness hinders the
activity of the soul, but the contrary temper furthers and helps it.
Singing calls up the soul into such a posture, and doth, as it were,
awaken it: it is a lively rousing up of the heart. Singing God’s praise
is a work of the most meditation of any we perform in public. It keeps
the heart longest upon the thing spoken. Prayer and hearing pass quick
from one sentence to another; this sticks long upon it. Meditation must
follow after hearing the word, and praying with the minister—for new
sentences, still succeeding, give not liberty, in the instant, well to
muse and consider upon what is spoken: but in this you pray and
meditate. God hath so ordered this duty, that, while we are employed in
it, we feed and chew the cud together. “Higgaion,” or “Meditation,” is
set upon some passages of the Psalms, as Psalm ix. 16. The same may be
writ up the whole duty, and all parts of it; namely, “Meditation.” Set
before you one in the posture to sing to the best advantage: eyes lifted
to heaven, denote his desire that his heart may be there too; he hath
before him a line or verse of prayer, mourning, praise, mention of God’s
works; how fairly now may his heart spread itself in meditation on the
thing, while he is singing it over! Our singing is measured in
deliberate time not more for music than meditation. He that seeks not,
finds not, this advantage in singing Psalms—hath not yet learned what it
means.—_John Lightfoot, 1602-1675._
_Verse 5.—“His anger.”_ Seeing God is often angry with his own servants,
what cause have those of you who fear him, to bless him that he is not
angry with you, and that you do not feel his displeasure! He sets up
others as his mark against which he shoots his arrows; you hear others
groaning for his departure, and yet your hearts are not saddened as
theirs are; your eyes can look up towards heaven with hope, whilst
theirs are clouded with a veil of sorrow; he speaks roughly to them, but
comfortable words to you; he seems to set himself against them as his
enemies, whilst he deals with you as a loving friend; you see a reviving
smile in his face and they can discern nothing there but one continued
and dreadful frown. O admire, and for ever wonder at the sovereign,
distinguishing grace of God. Are you that are at ease better than many
of his people that are now thrown into a fiery furnace? Have you less
dross than they? Have they sinned, think you, at a higher rate than you
have ever done? He is angry with them for their lukewarmness, for their
backsliding; and have your hearts always burned with love? Have your
feet always kept his way and not declined? Have you never wandered? Have
you never turned aside to the right hand or to the left? Surely you
have; and therefore, what a mercy is it, that he is not angry with you
as well as with them.... Do not presume for all this; for though he is
not angry yet with you, he may be so. This was the fault of David: “_In
my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved_;” but it immediately
follows, “_Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled._” The sun
shines now upon you, the candle of the Lord does refresh your
tabernacle; but you may meet with many storms, and clouds, and darkness
before you come to your journey’s end. The disciples were once greatly
pleased with the glory of the transfiguration; and during the delightful
interview between Christ, and Moses, and Elias, they thought themselves
as in heaven; but a cloud came and obscured the preceding glory, and
then the poor men were afraid. It is true the anger of God _endureth but
for a moment_; but even that moment is very sad, and terrible beyond
expression. Weeping endureth for “_a night_;” but it may be a very
bitter and doleful night for all this. It is a night like that of the
Egyptians: when they arose they saw all their first-born slain, and
there was a hideous, universal cry and mourning throughout all the land.
So this night of the anger of the Lord may destroy all our comforts, and
make the first-born of our strength, the confidence and pleasure of our
hopes to give up the ghost.—_Timothy Rogers._
_Verse 5.—“In his favour is life.”_—Let us see wherein the weight of the
blessing and cursing of sheep and goats doth lie. It is not the gift of
eternal life that is our happiness in heaven; but as David saith, “_in
his favour is life_.” If a damned soul should be admitted to the
fruition of all the pleasures of eternal life without the favour of God,
heaven would be hell to him. It is not the dark and horrid house of woe
that maketh a soul miserable in hell, but God’s displeasure, _ite
maledicti_. If an elect soul should be cast thither, and retain the
favour of God, hell would be an heaven to him, and his joy could not all
the devils of hell take from him; his night would be turned into
day.—_Edward Marbury._
_Verse 5._—As an apprentice holds out in hard labour and (it may be) bad
usage for seven years together or more, and in all that time is
serviceable to his master without any murmuring or repining, because he
sees that the time wears away, and that his bondage will not last
always, but he shall be set at large and made a freeman in the
conclusion: thus should everyone that groaneth under the burthen of any
cross or affliction whatsoever, bridle his affections, possess his soul
in patience, and cease from all murmuring and repining whatsoever,
considering well with himself, that the rod of the wicked shall not
always rest upon the lot of the righteous; that _weeping may abide at
evening, but joy cometh in the morning_; and that troubles will have an
end, and not continue for ever.—_John Spencer._
_Verse 5._—How often have we experienced the literal truth of that
verse, “_Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the
morning!_” How heavily does any trouble weigh on us _at night_! Our
wearied nerve and brain seem unable to bear up under the pressure. Our
pulse throbs, and the fevered restless body refuses to help in the work
of endurance. Miserable and helpless we feel; and passionately weep
under the force of the unresisted attack. At last sleep comes. Trouble,
temptation, whatever it be that strives to overcome us, takes the one
step too far which overleaps its mark, and by sheer force drives our
poor humanity beyond the present reach of further trial. After such a
night of struggle, and the heavy sleep of exhaustion, we awake with a
vague sense of trouble. Our thoughts gather, and we _wonder_ over our
own violence, as the memory of it returns upon us. What was it that
seemed so hopeless—so dark? Why were we so helpless and despairing?
Things do not look so _now_—sad indeed still, but endurable—hard, but no
longer impossible—bad enough perhaps, but we despair no more. “_Weeping
may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning._” And so, when
life with its struggles and toils and sins, bringing us perpetual
conflict, ends at last in the fierce struggle of _death_, then God
“giveth his beloved sleep.” They sleep in Jesus, and awake to the joy of
a morning which shall know no wane—the morning of joy. The Sun of
Righteousness is beaming on them. Light is now on all their ways. And
they can only wonder when they recall the despair and darkness, and
toil, and violence of their earthly life, and say, as they have often
said on earth, “Weeping has endured only for _the night_, and now it is
morning, and joy has come!” And our sorrows, our doubts, our
difficulties, our long looks forward, with despair of enduring strength
for so long a night of trial—Where are they? Shall we not feel as is so
beautifully described in the words of one of our hymns—
“When in our Father’s happy land
We meet our own once more,
Then we shall scarcely understand
Why we have wept before.”
_Mary B. M. Duncan, 1825-1865._
_Verse 5.—“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the
morning.”_ Their mourning shall last but till morning. God will turn
their winter’s night into a summer’s day, their sighing into singing,
their grief into gladness, their mourning into music, their bitter into
sweet, their wilderness into a paradise. The life of a Christian is
filled up with interchanges of sickness and health, weakness and
strength, want and wealth, disgrace and honour, crosses, and comforts,
miseries and mercies, joys and sorrows, mirth and mourning; all honey
would harm us, all wormwood would undo us; a composition of both is the
best way in the world to keep our souls in a healthy constitution. It is
best and most for the health of the soul that the south wind of mercy,
and the north wind of adversity, do both blow upon it; and though every
wind that blows shall blow good to the saints, yet certainly their sins
die most, and their graces thrive best, when they are under the drying,
nipping north wind of calamity, as well as under the warm, cherishing
south wind of mercy and prosperity.—_Thomas Brooks._
_Verse 5.—“Joy cometh in the morning.”_ The godly man’s joy “_cometh in
the morning_,” when the wicked man’s goeth; for to him “the morning is
even as the shadow of death.” Job xxiv. 17. He is not only afraid of
reproof and punishment, but he grieves and suffers sufficiently, though
nobody should know of his actions, for the impair and loss, and
misspence of his strength and his time and his money.—_Zachary Bogan._
_Verse 5._—In the second half of the verse, “_weeping_” is personified,
and represented by the figure of a wanderer, who leaves in the morning
the lodging, into which he had entered the preceding evening. After him
another guest arrives, namely, “_joy_.”—_E. W. Hengstenberg._
_Verse 5._—The princely prophet says plainly, “_heaviness may endure for
a night, but joy cometh in the morning_.” As the two angels that came to
Lot lodged with him for a night, and when they had despatched their
errand, went away in the morning; so afflictions, which are the angels
or the messengers of God. God sendeth afflictions to do an errand unto
us; to tell us we forget God, we forget ourselves, we are too proud, too
self-conceited, and such like; and when they have said as they were bid,
then presently they are gone.—_Thomas Playfere._
_Verses 5-10._—When a man’s heart is set upon the creatures, there being
thorns in them all, therefore if he will grasp too much of them, or too
hard, he shall find it. God’s children are trained up so to it, that God
will not let them go away with a sin; if they be too adulterously
affected, they shall find a cross in such a thing. You may observe this
in the thirtieth Psalm; there you may see the circle God goes in with
his children. David has many afflictions, as appeareth by the fifth
verse: I cried, and then God returned to me, and joy came. What did
David then? “I said, I shall never be moved:” his heart grew wanton, but
God would not let him go away so: “God turned away his face, and I was
troubled.” At the seventh verse he is, you see, in trouble again: well,
David cries again, at the eighth and tenth verses, and then God turned
his mourning into joy again. And this to be his dealing you shall find
in all the Scriptures; but because we find this his dealing set so close
together in this Psalm, therefore I name it.—_John Preston, D.D.
(1587-1628), in “The Golden Scepter held forth to the Humble.”_
_Verse 6.—“In my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved.”_ Our
entering upon a special service for God, or receiving a special favour
from God, are two solemn seasons which Satan makes use of for
temptation.... We are apt to get proud, careless, and confident, after
or upon such employments and favours; even as men are apt to sleep or
surfeit upon a full meal, or to forget themselves when they are advanced
to honour. Job’s great peace and plenty made him, as he confesseth, so
confident, that he concluded he should “die in his nest.” Chap. xxix.
18. David enjoying the favour of God in a more than ordinary measure,
though he was more acquainted with vicissitudes and changes than most of
men, grows secure in his apprehension that he “_should never be moved_;”
but he acknowledgeth his mistake, and leaves it upon record as an
experience necessary for others to take warning by, that when he became
warm under the beams of God’s countenance, then he was apt to fall into
security; and this it seems was usual with him in all such cases—when he
was most secure he was nearest some trouble or disquiet. “_Thou didst
hide thy face_”—and then to be sure the devil will show him his—“_and I
was troubled._” Enjoyments beget confidence; confidence brings forth
carelessness; carelessness makes God withdraw, and gives opportunity to
Satan to work unseen. And thus, as armies after victory growing secure,
are oft surprised; so are we oft after our spiritual advancements thrown
down.—_Richard Gilpin._