tranquility, arising from an affluent, prosperous condition_. When God
had settled him quietly on the throne, he thought all his troubles were
over, and that he should enjoy uninterrupted happiness; and that God
“_had made his mountain so strong, as that it should never be moved_;”
_i.e._, placed him as secure from all danger as though he had taken
refuge upon an inaccessible mountain; or made his prosperity firm, and
subject to no more alteration, than a mountain is liable to be removed
out of its place; or, raised him to an eminent degree of honour and
prosperity; a mountain, by its height, being a very natural
representation of a very superior condition, remarkable for power,
affluence, and dignity. He had taken the fortress of Mount Sion, which
was properly _his mountain_, as he had fixed on it for his dwelling. It
was strong by nature, and rendered almost impregnable by the
fortifications he had added to it. This he regarded as the effect of
God’s favour to him, and promised himself that his peace and happiness
for the future should be as undisturbed and unshaken as Mount Sion
itself.—_Samuel Chandler._
_Verse 6.—“In my prosperity.”_ Prosperity is more pleasant than
profitable to us. Though in show it look like a fair summer, yet it is
indeed a wasting winter, and spendeth all the fruit we have reaped in
the harvest of sanctified affliction. We are never in greater danger
than in the sunshine of prosperity. To be always indulged of God, and
never to taste of trouble, is rather a token of God’s neglect than of
his tender love.—_William Struther._
_Verse 7._—It is rare to receive much of this world, and not as the
prodigal to go afar off; ’tis hard to keep close to God in prosperity,
when we have much of this world to live upon and content ourselves with;
to live upon God, and make him our content and stay, as if we had no
other life nor livelihood but in him; we are very apt in such a case to
contract a carnal frame, let go our hold of God, discustom ourselves to
the exercise of faith, abate and estrange our affections from God. See
how it was with David: “_I said, I shall never be moved, thou hast made
my mountain so strong._” I solaced myself on these outward
accommodations, as if I needed no other support, strength, or content,
and there were no fear of a change; no care now to make God my constant
joy and stay, and reckon upon God only for my portion, and that I must
follow him with a cross, and be conformed to my Saviour, in being
crucified to the world. What comes of this? “_Thou didst hide thy face,
and I was troubled_;” namely, because he had too much indulged a life of
sense. Children that are held up by their nurses’ hand, and mind not to
feel their feet and ground when the nurses let them go, they fall, as if
they had no feet or ground to stand upon. Or thus: we are like children,
who, playing in the golden sunshine, and following their sport, stray so
far from their father’s house, that night coming upon them ere they are
aware, they are as it were lost, and full of fears, not knowing how to
recover home. The world steals away our hearts from God, gives so few
opportunities for the exercise of the life of faith, and such advantages
to a life of sense, wears off the sense of our dependence on God, and
need thereof, so that when we are put to it by affliction, we are ready
to miscarry ere we can recover our weapon or hold. Faith is our cordial
(Psalm xxvii. 13); now if it be not at hand (as in health, when we have
no need of it, it use to be) we may faint ere we recover the use of
it.—_Elias Pledger’s Sermon in “The Morning Exercises,” 1677._
_Verse 7.—“Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled.”_ What soul can
be deserted and not be afflicted? Certainly his absence cannot but be
lamented with greatest grief, whose presence the soul prizeth above all
earthly joy; when the evidence of salvation is obscured, the light of
God’s countenance darkened, the comforts of the Spirit detained, then
the heavens appear not so clear, the promises taste not so sweet, the
ordinances prove not so lively, yea, the clouds which hang over the soul
gather blackness, doubts arise, fears overflow, terrors increase,
troubles enlarge, and the soul becomes languishingly afflicted, even
with all variety of disquietments.—_Robert Mossom._
_Verse 7.—“Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled.”_ A believer
puts on the sackcloth of contrition, for having put off the garment of
perfection. As the sugar-loaf is dissolved, and weeps itself way, when
dipped in wine; so do our hearts melt under a sense of divine
love.—_William Secker._
_Verse 7 (last clause)._—No verse can more plainly teach us that
glorious and comforting truth on which the mediæval writers especially
love to dwell, that it is the looking, or not looking, of God upon his
creature, that forms the happiness or the misery of that creature; that
those secret springs of joy which sometimes seem to rise up of
themselves, and with which a stranger intermeddleth not, are nothing but
God’s direct and immediate looking on us; while the sorrow for which we
cannot assign any especial cause—call it melancholy, or low spirits, or
by whatever other name—is nothing but his turning away his face from
us.—_John Mason Neale._
_Verse 7 (last clause)._—Is spiritual desertion and the hiding of God’s
face matter of affliction, and casting down to believers? Yes, yes; it
quails their hearts, nothing can comfort them. “_Thou didst hide thy
face, and I was troubled._” Outward afflictions do but break the skin,
this touches the quick; they like rain fall only upon the tiles, this
soaks into the house; but Christ brings to believers substantial matter
of consolation against the troubles of desertion: he himself was
deserted of God for a time, that they might not be deserted for
ever.—_John Flavel._
_Verse 7 (last clause)._—If God be thy portion, then there is no loss in
all the world that lies so hard and so heavy upon thee as the loss of
thy God. There is no loss under heaven that doth so affect and afflict a
man that hath God for his portion, as the loss of his God. David met
with many a loss, but no loss made so sad and so great a breach upon his
spirit as the loss of the face of God, the loss of the favour of God:
“_In my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved. Lord, by thy favour
thou hast made my mountain to stand strong: thou didst hide thy face,
and I was troubled._” The Hebrew word בָהַל _bahal_ signifies to be
greatly troubled, to be sorely terrified, as you may see in that 1 Sam.
xxviii. 21, “And the woman came unto Saul, and saw that he was sore
troubled.” Here is the same Hebrew word _bahal_. Saul was so terrified,
affrighted, and disanimated with the dreadful news that the devil in
Samuel’s likeness told him, that his very vital spirits so failed him,
that he fell into a deadly swoon. And it was even so with David upon
God’s hiding of his face. David was like a withered flower that had lost
all its sap, life, and vigour, when God had wrapped himself up in a
cloud. The life of some creatures lieth in the light and warmth of the
sun; and so doth the life of the saints lie in the light and warmth of
God’s countenance. And, as in an eclipse of the sun, there is a drooping
in the whole frame of nature, so when God hides his face, gracious souls
cannot but droop and languish, and bow down themselves before him. Many
insensible creatures, some by opening and shutting, as marigolds and
tulips, others by bowing and inclining the head, as the solsequy[3] and
mallow-flowers, are so sensible of the presence and absence of the sun,
that there seems to be such a sympathy between the sun and them, that if
the sun be gone or clouded, they wrap up themselves or hang down their
heads, as being unwilling to be seen by any eye but his that fills them:
and just thus it was with David when God had hid his face in a
cloud.—_Thomas Brooks._
_Verse 8.—“I cried to thee, O Lord; and unto the Lord I made
supplication.”_ Bernard, under a fiction, proposeth a fable well worthy
our beholding: therein the kings of Babylon and Jerusalem, signifying
the state of the world and the church, always warring together; in which
encounter, at length it fell out, that one of the soldiers of Jerusalem
was fled to the castle of Justice. Siege laid to the castle, and a
multitude of enemies entrenched round about it, Fear gave over all hope,
but Prudence ministered her comfort. “Dost thou not know,” saith she,
“that our king is the King of glory; the Lord strong and mighty, even
the Lord mighty in battle? Let us therefore despatch a messenger that
may inform him of our necessities.” Fear replieth, “But who is able to
break through? Darkness is upon the face of the earth, and our walls are
begirt with a watchful troop of armed men, and we, utterly inexpert of
the way into so far a country.” Whereupon Justice is consulted. “Be of
good cheer,” saith Justice, “I have a messenger of especial trust, well
known to the king and his court, Prayer by name, who knoweth to address
herself by ways unknown in the stillest silence of the night, till she
cometh to the secrets and chamber of the King himself.” Forthwith she
goeth, and findeth the gates shut, knocketh amain, “Open, ye gates of
righteousness, and be ye opened, ye everlasting doors, that I may come
in and tell the King of Jerusalem how our case standeth.” Doubtless the
trustiest and effectuallest messenger we have to send is Prayer. If we
send up merits, the stars in heaven will disdain it, that we which dwell
at the footstool of God dare to presume so far, when the purest
creatures in heaven are impure in his sight. If we send up fear and
distrustfulness, the length of the way will tire them out. They are as
heavy and lumpish as gads of iron; they will sink to the ground before
they come halfway to the throne of salvation. If we send up blasphemies
and curses, all the creatures betwixt heaven and earth will band
themselves against us. The sun and the moon will rain down blood; the
fire, hot burning coals; the air, thunderbolts upon our heads. Prayer, I
say again, is the surest ambassador; which neither the tediousness of
the way, nor difficulties of the passage, can hinder from her purpose;
quick of speed, faithful for trustiness, happy for success, able to
mount above the eagles of the sky, into the heaven of heavens, and as a
chariot of fire bearing us aloft into the presence of God to seek his
assistance.—_John King._
_Verse 9.—“What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the
pit?”_ Implying that he would willingly die, if he could thereby do any
real service to God, or his country. Phil. ii. 17. But he saw not what
good could be done by his dying in the bed of sickness, as might be if
he had died in the bed of honour. Lord, saith he, wilt thou sell one of
“thine own people for nought, and not increase thy wealth by the price?”
Psalm xliv. 12.—_Matthew Henry._
_Verse 9.—“What profit is there in my blood,”_ etc. The little gain that
the Lord would have by denying his people in the mercies they request,
may also be used as a plea in prayer. David beggeth his own life of God,
using this plea, “_What profit is there in my blood?_” So did the
captive church plead (Psalm xliv. 12); “Thou sellest thy people for
nought, and dost not increase thy wealth by their price.” So then, poor
saints of God when they come and tell the Lord in their prayers that
indeed he may condemn, or confound, or cut or cast them off; he may
continue to frown upon them; he may deny such-and-such requests of
theirs, for such-and-such just causes in them; but what will he gain
thereby? He may gain many praises, etc., by hearing them, and helping
them; but what good will it do him to see them oppressed by the enemies
of their souls? or what delight would it be to him to see them sighing
and sinking, and fainting under sad pressures, etc.? this is an allowed
and a very successful kind of pleading.—_Thomas Cobbet._
_Verse 9.—“Shall the dust praise thee?”_ Can any number be sufficient to
praise thee? Can there ever be mouths enough to declare thy truth? And
may not I make one—a sinful one I know—but yet one in the number, if
thou be pleased to spare me from descending into the pit?—_Sir Richard
Baker._
_Verse 9._—Prayer that is likely to prevail with God must be
argumentative. God loves to have us plead with him and overcome him with
arguments in prayer.—_Thomas Watson._
_Verse 11.—“Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast
put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.”_ This might be true
of David, delivered from his calamity; it was true of Christ, arising
from the tomb, to die no more; it is true of the penitent, exchanging
his sackcloth for the garments of salvation; and it will be verified in
us all, at the last day, when we shall put off the dishonours of the
grave, to shine in glory everlasting.—_George Horne._
_Verse 11.—“Thou hast turned.”_ I do so like the ups and downs in the
Psalms.—_Adelaide Newton._
_Verse 11.—“Thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with
gladness.”_ I say with the apostle, “Overcome evil with good,” sorrow
with joy. Joy is the true remedy for sorrow. It never had, never could
have any other. We must always give the soul that weeps reason to
rejoice; all other consolation is utterly useless.—_Alexander Rodolph
Vinet, D.D., 1797-1847._
_Verse 11.—“Thou hast girded me with gladness.”_ My “sackcloth” was but
a loose garment about me, which might easily be put off at pleasure, but
my “_gladness_” is _girt_ about me, to be fast and sure, and cannot
leave me though it would; at least none shall be able to take it from
me.—_Sir Richard Baker._
_Verse 12._—Even as the Chaldeans formerly measured their natural day
differently from the Israelites; they put the day first and the night
after; but the Israelites, on the contrary, according to the order that
was observed in the creation; for in the beginning darkness was upon the
face of the deep, and of every one of the six days it is said, “The
evening and the morning were the first day,” etc. So the times of the
world and of the church are differently disposed; for the world begins
hers by the day of temporal prosperity, and finishes it by a night of
darkness and anguish that is eternal; but the church, on the contrary,
begins hers by the night of adversity, which she suffers for awhile, and
ends them by a day of consolation which she shall have for ever. The
prophet in this Psalm begins with the _anger_ of God, but ends with his
_favour_: as of old, when they entered into the tabernacle they did at
first see unpleasant things, as the knives of the sacrifices, the blood
of victims, the fire that burned upon the altar, which consumed the
offerings; but when they passed a little farther there was the holy
place, the candlestick of gold, the shew-bread, and the altar of gold on
which they offered perfumes; and in fine, there was the holy of holies,
and the ark of the covenant, and the mercy-seat and the cherubims, which
was called the face of God.—_Timothy Rogers._
_Verse 12.—“I will give thanks.”_ What is praise? The rent we owe to
God; and the larger the farm the greater the rent should be.—_G. S.
Bowes, 1863._
HINTS TO PREACHERS.
_Title._—House dedication, and how to arrange it.
_Whole Psalm._—In this ode we may see the workings of David’s mind
before, and under, and after, the affliction. I. _Before_ the
affliction: 6. II. _Under_ the affliction: 7—10. III. _After_ the
affliction: 11, 12.—_William Jay._
_Verse 1 (first clause)._—God and his people exalting each other.
_Verse 1 (second clause)._—The happiness of being preserved so as not to
be the scorn of our enemies.
_Verse 1._—The disappointments of the devil.
_Verse 2._—The sick man, the physician, the night-bell, the medicine,
and the cure; or, a covenant God, a sick saint, a crying heart, a
healing hand.
_Verse 3._—_Upbringing and preservation_, two choice mercies; made the
more illustrious by two terrible evils, “_grave_,” and “_pit_”; traced
immediately to the Lord, “_thou hast_.”
_Verse 4._—_Song_, a sacred service; “_saints_” especially called to it;
_divine holiness_, a choice subject for it; _Memory_, an admirable aid
in it.
_Verse 5._—The anger of God in relation to his people.
_Verse 5._—_The night of weeping, and the morning of joy._
_Verse 5._—“_Life_” in God’s “_favour_.”
_Verse 5._—The transient nature of the believer’s trouble, and the
permanence of his joy.
_Verse 6._—The peculiar dangers of “_prosperity_.”
_Verses 6-12._—David’s prosperity had lulled him into a state of
undue security: God sent him this affliction to rouse him from it.
The successive frames of his mind are here clearly marked; and must
successively be considered as they are here presented to our view.
I. His carnal security. II. His spiritual dereliction. III. His
fervent prayers. IV. His speedy recovery. V. His grateful
acknowledgments.—_Charles Simeon._
_Verse 7 (first clause)._—Carnal security; its causes, dangers, and
cures.
_Verse 7 (last clause)._—The gracious bemoanings of a soul in spiritual
darkness.
_Verse 8_, in connection with verse 3, _prayer the universal remedy_.
_Verse 9 (first clause)._—Arguments with God for continued life and
renewed favour.
_Verse 9 (last clause)._—The resurrection, a time in which the “_dust_”
shall “_praise_” God, and “_declare_” his “_truth_.”
_Verse 10._—Two gems of prayer; short, but full and needful.
_Verse 10._—“_Lord, be thou my helper._” I see many fall; I shall fall
too except thou hold me up. I am weak; I am exposed to temptation. My
heart is deceitful. My enemies are strong. I cannot trust in man; I dare
not trust in myself. The grace I have received will not keep me without
thee. “_Lord, be thou my helper._” In every duty; in every conflict; in
every trial; in every effort to promote the Lord’s cause; in every
season of prosperity; in every hour we live, this short and inspired
prayer is suitable. May it flow from our hearts, be often on our lips,
and be answered in our experience. For if the Lord help us, there is no
duty which we cannot perform; there is no foe which we cannot overcome;
there is no difficulty which we cannot surmount.—_James Smith’s Daily
Remembrancer._
_Verse 11._—_Transformations._ Sudden; complete; divine, “_thou_;”
personal, “_for me_;” gracious.
_Verse 11._—_Holy dancing_: open up the metaphor.
_Verse 11._—The believer’s change of raiment: illustrate by life of
Mordecai or Joseph; mention all the garbs the believer is made to wear,
as a mourner, a beggar, a criminal, etc.
_Verse 12._—Our “_glory_,” and its relation to God’s glory.
_Verse 12._—The end of gracious dispensations.
_Verse 12._—Silence—when sinful.
_Verse 12 (last clause)._—The believer’s vow, and the time for making
it. See the whole Psalm.
Footnote 3:
The early name of the “_sun_-flower.” The _solsequium_ of Linnæus.
PSALM XXXI.
TITLE.—To the chief Musician—a Psalm of David. _The dedication to the
chief musician proves that this song of mingled measures and alternate
strains of grief and woe was intended for public singing, and thus a
deathblow is given to the notion that nothing but praise should be sung.
Perhaps the Psalms, thus marked, might have been set aside as too
mournful for temple worship, if special care had not been taken by the
Holy Spirit to indicate them as being designed for the public
edification of the Lord’s people. May there not also be in Psalms thus
designated a peculiarly distinct reference to the Lord Jesus? He
certainly manifests himself very clearly in the twenty-second, which
bears this title; and in the one before us we plainly hear his dying
voice in the fifth verse. Jesus is chief everywhere, and in all the holy
songs of his saints he is the chief musician. The surmises that Jeremiah
penned this Psalm need no other answer than the fact that it is “a Psalm
of David.”_
SUBJECT.—_The Psalmist in dire affliction appeals to his God for help
with much confidence and holy importunity, and ere long finds his mind
so strengthened that he magnifies the Lord for his great goodness. Some
have thought that the occasion in his troubled life which led to this
Psalm, was the treachery of the men of Keilah, and we have felt much
inclined to this conjecture; but after reflection it seems to us that
its very mournful tone, and its allusion to his iniquity demand a later
date, and it may be more satisfactory to illustrate it by the period
when Absalom had rebelled, and his courtiers were fled from him, while
lying lips spread a thousand malicious rumours against him. It is
perhaps quite as well that we have no settled season mentioned, or we
might have been so busy in applying it to David’s case as to forget its
suitability to our own._
DIVISION.—_There are no great lines of demarcation; throughout the
strain undulates, falling into valleys of mourning, and rising with
hills of confidence. However, we may for convenience arrange it thus:
David testifying his confidence in God pleads for help, 1-6; expresses
gratitude for mercies received, 7, 8; particularly describes his case,
9-13; vehemently pleads for deliverance, 14-18; confidently and
thankfully expects a blessing, 19-22; and closes by showing the bearing
of his case upon all the people of God._
EXPOSITION.
In thee, O LORD do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver
me in thy righteousness.
2 Bow down thine ear to me; deliver me speedily; be thou my strong
rock, for an house of defence to save me.
3 For thou _art_ my rock and my fortress; therefore for thy name’s
sake lead me, and guide me.
4 Pull me out of the net that they have laid privily for me: for
thou _art_ my strength.
5 Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O LORD
God of truth.
6 I have hated them that regard lying vanities; but I trust in the
LORD.
1. “_In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust._” Nowhere else do I fly for
shelter, let the tempest howl as it may. The Psalmist has one refuge,
and that the best one. He casts out the great sheet anchor of his faith
in the time of storm. Let other things be doubtful, yet the fact that he
relies upon Jehovah, David lays down most positively; and he begins with
it, lest by stress of trial he should afterwards forget it. This avowal
of faith is the fulcrum by means of which he labours to uplift and
remove his trouble; he dwells upon it as a comfort to himself and a plea
with God. No mention is made of merit, but faith relies upon divine
favour and faithfulness, and upon that alone. “_Let me never be
ashamed._” How can the Lord permit the man to be ultimately put to shame
who depends alone upon him? This would not be dealing like a God of
truth and grace. It would bring dishonour upon God himself if faith were
not in the end rewarded. It will be an ill day indeed for religion when
trust in God brings no consolation and no assistance. “_Deliver me in
thy righteousness._” Thou art not unjust to desert a trustful soul, or
to break thy promises; thou wilt vindicate the righteousness of thy
mysterious providence, and give me joyful deliverance. Faith dares to
look even to the sword of justice for protection: while God is
righteous, faith will not be left to be proved futile and fanatical. How
sweetly the declaration of faith in this first verse sounds, if we read
it at the foot of the cross, beholding the promise of the Father as yea
and amen through the Son; viewing God with faith’s eye as he stands
revealed in Jesus crucified.
2. “_Bow down thine ear to me._” Condescend to my low estate; listen to
me attentively as one who would hear every word. Heaven with its
transcendent glories of harmony might well engross the divine ear, but
yet the Lord has an hourly regard to the weakest moanings of his poorest
people. “_Deliver me speedily._” We must not set times and seasons, yet
in submission we may ask for swift as well as sure mercy. God’s mercies
are often enhanced in value by the timely haste which he uses in their
bestowal; if they came late they might be too late—but he rides upon a
cherub, and flies upon the wings of the wind when he intends the good of
his beloved. “_Be thou my strong rock._” Be my Engedi, my Adullam; my
immutable, immovable, impregnable, sublime, resort. “_For an house of
defence to save me_,” wherein I may _dwell_ in safety, not merely
running to thee for temporary shelter, but abiding in thee for eternal
salvation. How very simply does the good man pray, and yet with what
weight of meaning! he uses no ornamental flourishes, he is too deeply in
earnest to be otherwise than plain: it were well if all who engage in
public prayer would observe the same rule.