feeling of salvation. A sense of the malady must ever precede, and
prepare the soul for a believing reception and due apprehension of the
remedy. Wherever God intends to reveal his Son with power, wherever he
intends to make the gospel to be “a joyful sound,” he makes the
conscience feel and groan under the burden of sin. And sure am I that
when a man is labouring under the burden of sin, he will be full of
complaint. The Bible records hundreds of the complaints of God’s people
under the burden of sin. “_My wounds stink and are corrupt_,” cries one,
“_because of my foolishness. I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I
go mourning all the day long._” “My soul,” cries another, “is full of
troubles: and my life draweth nigh unto the grave.” Psalm lxxxviii. 3.
“He hath led me,” groans out a third, “and brought me into darkness, but
not into light.” Lam. iii. 2. A living man must need cry under such
circumstances. He cannot carry the burden without complaining of its
weight. He cannot feel the arrow sticking in his conscience without
groaning under the pain. He cannot have the worm gnawing his vitals,
without complaining of its venomous tooth. He cannot feel that God is
incensed against him without bitterly complaining that the Lord is his
enemy. Spiritual complaint then is a mark of spiritual life, and is one
which God recognises as such. “I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning
himself.” Jer. xxxi. 18. It shows that he has something to mourn over;
something to make him groan being burdened; that sin has been opened up
to him in its hateful malignancy; that it is a trouble and distress to
his soul; that he cannot roll it like a sweet morsel under his tongue;
but that it is found out by the penetrating eye, and punished by the
chastening hand of God.—_J. C. Philpot, 1842._
_Verse 6.—“I am troubled.” I writhe with pain._ This is the proper sense
of the original, which means to “turn out of its proper situation, or
course;” thence to be “distorted, writhed,” as a person in pain. Our
Bible translation, which says in the text, “_I am troubled_,” adds in
the margin, “wried,” an obsolete word, correctly expressing the
Hebrew.—_Richard Mant._
_Verse 6.—“I go mourning all the day long.”_ And now was I both a burden
and a terror to myself, nor did I ever so know, as now, what it was to
be weary of my life, and yet afraid to die. Oh, how gladly now would I
have been anybody but myself! Anything but a man! and in any condition
but mine own! for there was nothing did pass more frequently over my
mind than that it was impossible for me to be forgiven my transgression,
and to be saved from wrath to come.—_John Bunyan, in “Grace Abounding.”_
_Verse 6._—Let a man see and feel himself under the bonds of guilt, in
danger of hell, under the power of his lusts, enmity against God, and
God a stranger to him; let but the sense of this condition lie upon his
heart, and let him go on in his jollity if he can. What a woful creature
doth a man see himself now to be! He envies the happiness of the beasts
that are filled, and play in their pastures. We have heard of him who
when he saw a toad, stood weeping, because God had made him a _man_, so
excellent a creature, and not a toad, so abominable: the goodness of
God, then, it seems, as he apprehended it, made him weep; but this man
meets a toad, and he weeps also, but why? because he is a _man_, who
thinks his estate infinitely worse than the condition of a toad, and if
it were possible to attain it, would change states with the toad, that
hath no guilt of sin, fears no wrath of God, is not under power of lusts
or creatures; God is no enemy to it, which is his miserable
state.—_Giles Firmin, 1617-1697._
_Verse 7.—“For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease.”_ The word
here used, according to Gesenius (_Lex._), properly denotes the internal
muscles of the loins near the kidneys, to which the fat adheres. The
word rendered “_loathsome_”—the word “_disease_” being supplied by our
translators—is derived from קָלָה, _kalah_, a word which means to roast,
to parch, as fruit, grain, etc.; and then, in the form used here, it
means scorched, burned; hence, a burning or inflammation; and the whole
phrase would be synonymous with _an inflammation of the kidneys_. The
_word_ here used does not imply that there was any eruption, or ulcer,
though it would seem from verse five that this was the fact, and that
the inflammation had produced this effect.—_Albert Barnes._
_Verse 7.—“A loathsome disease.”_ In many things our estimates are
extravagant; but we never over-estimate the evil of sin. It is as
corrupting as it is damning. It covers the soul with plague-spots, with
the leprosy. Isaiah i. 5, 6.—_William S. Plumer._
_Verse 8.—“I am feeble.”_ literally, _I am benumbed_, I have become
deadly cold, cold as a corpse; possibly with reference to the burning
inflammation in the previous verse, as marking the alternations in the
fever fit.—_J. J. Stewart Perowne._
_Verse 8.—“I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.”_
Where sin is, there will never be but unquietness of heart; and an
unquiet heart will always produce these miserable effects—feebleness of
body, dejectedness of mind, and roaring of voice. But how can roaring
stand with feebleness, which seems to require a strength of spirits? Is
it not, therefore, a roaring, perhaps not so much in loudness as in an
inarticulate expressing? that having done actions more like a beast than
a man, I am forced to use a voice not so much of a man as of a beast? Or
is it perhaps a roaring in spirit, which the heart may send forth though
the body be feeble; or rather then, most, when it is most feeble; not
unlike the blaze of a candle, then greatest when going out? Howsoever it
be, this is certain: the heart is that unhappy plot of ground, which,
receiving into it the accursed seed of sin, brings forth in the body and
soul of man these miserable fruits: and how, then, can I be free from
these weeds of the fruits, since I have received into me so great a
measure of the seed? Oh, vile sin, that I could as well avoid thee as I
can see thee, or could as easily resist thee as I deadly hate thee, I
should not then complain of either feebleness of body, or dejectedness
of mind, or roaring of voice; but I should perfectly enjoy that happy
quietness in all my parts, which thou, O God, didst graciously bestow as
a blessed dowry on our first parents at their creation.—_Sir Richard
Baker._
_Verse 8.—“I have roared,”_ etc. It is difficult for a true penitent, in
the bitterness of his soul, to go over the life which he has dragged on
in sinfulness, without groaning and sighing from the bottom of his
heart. But happy are these groans, happy these sighs, happy these sobs,
since they flow from the influence of grace, and from the breath of the
Holy Spirit, who himself in an ineffable manner groans in us and with
us, and who forms these groans in our hearts by penitence and love! but
as the violence of both, that is, of penitence and of love, cannot but
burst the narrow limits of a penitent heart, it must make a vent for
itself by the eyes and mouth. The eyes shed tears, and the mouth sends
forth sighs and groans, which it can no longer restrain; because they
are driven on by the fire of divine love, and so these lamentations
frame themselves into words and intelligible sentences.—_Jean Baptiste
Elias Avrillon, 1652-1729._
_Verse 8.—“The disquietness of my heart.”_ David felt pains gather about
his heart, and then he cried out. The heart is the mark that God
principally aims at when a Christian hath turned aside from his upright
course; other outward parts he may hit and deeply wound, but this is but
to make holes in the heart, where the seat of unsoundness that
principally offends him is. The fire which conscience kindles, it may
flash forth into the eyes, and tongue, and hands, and make a man look
fearfully, speak desperately, and do bloodily, against the body; but the
heat of the fire is principally within, in the furnace, in the spirit;
’tis but some sparkles and flashes only that you see come forth at the
lower holes of the furnace, which you behold in the eyes, words, and
deeds of such men.—_Nicholas Lockyer._
_Verse 9._—There are usually, if not always, pains with desires,
especially in desires after the creature, because that oftentimes there
is a frustration of our desires, or an elongation of the things, the
things are far off, hard to come by; our desires oftentimes are mute,
they speak not; or the things that we desire, know not our minds: but
our desires after God always speak, they are open unto God, he heareth
their voice. “_Lord, all my desire is before thee_,” saith David, “_and
my groaning is not hid from thee_.” Therefore it must needs be sweet,
when the soul lies thus open unto God. Other desires do not assure and
secure a man in the things he desires; a man may wish this and wish that
and go without both; but the soul that thus longs after God is instated
in his wish, hath a present enjoyment, and certainly shall have a full
enjoyment of him. “He will fulfil the desire of those that fear him: he
also will hear their cry.” Ps. cxlv. 19.—_Joseph Symonds._
_Verse 9.—“My groaning is not hid from thee.”_ Secret tears for secret
sins are an excellent sign of a holy heart, and a healing balsam for
broken spirits. God well understands the language of half words
interrupted with sighs, and interprets them as the streams and
breathings of a broken heart. As all our foolishness is before him to
cover it, so is all our heaviness to ease it; and therefore shall our
souls praise and please him more than a bullock with young horns and
hoofs upon his altar. Holy mourning keeps out carnal sorrow and produces
spirit joy. It stirs up the heart of a saint to beg preventing grace
which no false heart can perform without secret reserves. This inward
sorrow prevents open shame. God will never give up _such_ souls to be
trampled on by spiritual enemies, who are already humbled by themselves.
In saints’ humiliation there’s a door opened for secret hope, because of
the precious promises that are plighted to it, and especially of
preventing future sin by strengthening grace. For as the love of God is
the fountain of all true repentance, so it is the attractive of more
incomes of divine love to the soul.—_Samuel Lee._
_Verse 10.—“My heart panteth.”_ The verb which David here uses signifies
_to travel_ or _wander hither and thither_, but here it is taken for the
agitation or disquietude which distress of heart engenders when we know
not what to do. According as men are disquieted in mind, so do they turn
themselves on all sides; and so their heart may be said to turn round,
or to run to and fro.—_John Calvin._
_Verse 11.—“My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore; and my
kinsmen stand afar off.”_ So miserable am I, that I am left alone as one
utterly forsaken; they are all pieces that recoil and fly back at the
first voice of the powder. Yet it is not so much me they stand aloof
from as my sore; for if it were not for my sore, I should have enough of
their company easily enough; but they cannot abide sores, their eyes are
too tender to endure to see them, and yet hard enough not to relieve
them. Or is it they stand aloof, that is, so near as to show they are
willing enough to see them; but yet so far off as to show they have no
meaning to come and help them!...
“_My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore_,” as fearing more
my sore than me; but “_my kinsmen stand afar off_,” as fearing me no
less than my sore; and where my lovers and friends by standing aloof do
but violate the law of a contracted friendship, my kinsmen by standing
afar off violate even the law of natural affection; and is not this a
grievous thing, that the law of reason, the law of friendship, the law
of nature, shall all be broken rather than I shall be relieved or find
assistance?—_Sir Richard Baker._
_Verse 11.—“My lovers and my friends stand afar off.”_ Deserted by false
friends, but conqueror through thee, to thee I speed, who though seeming
to act the part of an enemy, yet never changest thy love; but lovest for
ever him whom thou once hast loved. When thou seemest afar off, thou art
near. I conceive this sorrow on account of the treachery of false
friends, and the cowardliness of my kinsfolk, who are to me as piercing
thorns rather than sweet-smelling roses. The proof of affection is seen
by deeds. I hear the name of kinsman and friend; I see no deed. To thee,
therefore, I flee, whose word is deed; for I need thy help.—_From the
Latin of A. Rivetus._
_Verse 13.—“But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man
that openeth not his mouth.”_ For why should I hear when I meant not to
speak? and why should I speak when I knew beforehand I should not be
heard? I knew by contesting I should but provoke them, and make them
more guilty that were guilty too much before. I therefore thought it
better myself to be silent than to set them a roaring and make them grow
outrageous. No doubt a great wisdom in David, to know that to be deaf
and dumb was in this case his best course, but yet a far greater virtue
that knowing it, he was able to do it. Oh, how happy should we be, if we
could always do that which we know is best to be done, and if our wills
were as ready to act, as our reason is able to enact; we should then
decline many rocks we now run upon, we should then avoid many errors we
now run into. To be deaf and dumb are indeed great inabilities and
defects, when they be natural; but when they be voluntary, and I may say
artificial, they are then great abilities, or rather perfections.—_Sir
Richard Baker._
_Verse 13.—“But I, as a deaf man, heard not.”_ The inspired writer here
compares himself to a dumb and deaf man for two reasons. In the first
place, he intimates that he was so overwhelmed with the false and wicked
judgments of his enemies, that he was not even permitted to open his
mouth in his own defence. In the second place, he alleges before God his
own patience, as a plea to induce God the more readily to have pity upon
him; for such meekness and gentleness, not only with good reason,
secures favour to the afflicted and the innocent, but it is also a sign
of true piety.—_John Calvin._
_Verse 14.—“Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are
no reproofs.”_ You, who truly know yourselves; by whom silent suffering,
secret grief, and hidden joy are understood; by the knowledge of your
own unspoken sorrow, unexpressed, because inexpressible feelings, by the
consciousness of the unrevealed depths of your own nature, the earnest,
but ever unsatisfied yearnings of your spirit, learn to reverence and
love those by whom you are surrounded, whose inner life can never be
completely read, but whom you are sure must need sacred sympathy and
tender consideration. If a secret grief is constantly gnawing my heart,
making my voice falter in the song of praise, may not my brother’s
downcast eye and heavy heart be occasioned by a similar cause; shall I
condemn him for his want of gladness? No: but remember, “the heart
knoweth his own bitterness, and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his
joy.” The silent breathings of the spirit are not for our ears; the hot
tears which in secret fall, are not for our eyes; in mercy has the veil
been drawn round each heart; but by the sacred memory of our own
sadness, let our voice be gentle, our look tender, our tread quiet, as
we pass amongst the mourners.—_Jessie Coombs, in “Thoughts for the Inner
Life.” 1867._
_Verse 15._—A man that is to go down into a deep pit, he does not throw
himself headlong into it, or leap down at all adventures, but fastens a
rope at top upon a cross beam or some sure place, and so lets himself
down by degrees: so let thyself down into the consideration of thy sin,
hanging upon Christ; and when thou art gone so low that thou canst
endure no longer, but art ready to be overcome with the horror and
darkness of thy miserable estate, dwell not too long at the gates of
hell, lest the devil pull thee in, but wind thyself up again by renewed
acts of faith, and “fly for refuge unto the hope that is set before
thee.” Heb. vi. 18.—_Thomas Cole (1627-1697), in “Morning Exercises.”_
_Verse 17.—“For I am ready to halt:”_ to show my infirmity in my trials
and afflictions; as Jacob halted after his wrestling with God. Gen.
xxxii. 31. In the Greek, _I am ready for scourges_, that is, to suffer
correction and punishment for my sins: so the Chaldee saith, _for
calamity_.—_Henry Ainsworth._
_Verse 18._—Pliny writeth of some families that had private marks on
their bodies peculiar to those of that line, and every man hath, as it
were, a private sin, which is most justly called his; but if we will
confess our sins aright, we must not leave out that sin; nay, our
chiefest spite must be against it, according to David’s resolve: “_I
will declare mine iniquity; I will be sorry for my sin._” ... David doth
not only say, “_I will declare_,” but, “_I will be sorry for my sin._”
The people of God (1 Sam. vii. 6) in the day of their confession not
only say, “We have sinned,” but draw water, and pour it out before the
Lord in token of contrition. We should, in confessing sin, have our
hearts so affected, that our eyes, with Job, may “pour tears before God”
(Job xvi. 20); that, with David, “rivers of tears, may run down our
eyes” (Psalm cxix. 136); yea, we should wish with Jeremiah, that “our
head were waters, and our eyes a fountain of tears.” Jer. ix. 1. But,
however, _nonne stillabit oculus noster_? if we cannot pour out, shall
we not drop a tear? or at least, if we cannot shed a tear, let us
breathe forth a sigh for our sins. It is only the heart broken with
godly sorrow that sends forth a true confession.—_Nathanael Hardy._
_Verse 20.—“They are mine enemies because I follow the thing that good
is.”_ It is a bold attempt to ding Satan out of his nest. If we conform
us to the men of this world we find peace with them; they will not
discord with us so long as we go their way; but to shame them by a godly
life is an affront they cannot digest; and to rebuke their sin, findeth
at their hand all that Satan disappointed or corruption provoked can
devise. A sleeping dog is quiet, but being stirred, turneth all in
barking and biting. Not to do as they do is matter enough of anger, but
a reproof is the highest degree of disgrace in their account. All that
hatred which they ought to bear to Satan and his instruments, is turned
upon God in his rebuking and reclaiming servants. That anger that in
remorse should burn against their own sin is set against their
reprovers.—_William Struther._
_Verse 22.—“O Lord my salvation.”_ Faith the suppliant is now made faith
triumphant.—_Franz Delitzsch._
HINTS TO PREACHERS.
_Title._—The art of memory. Holy memorabilia. The usefulness of sacred
remembrances.
_Verse 1._—The rebuke of God’s wrath. I. Richly deserved. II. Reasonably
dreaded. III. Earnestly deprecated.—_B. Davies._
_Verse 1._—The evil consequences of sin in this world.—_J. J. Blunt._
_Verse 1._—The bitterest of bitters, “_thy wrath_;” why deprecated; and
how escaped.
_Verse 2._—God sharply chasteneth many of his children, and yet for all
that he loves them never a whit the less, nor withholdeth in good time
his mercy from them.—_Thomas Wilcocks._
_Verse 3 (last clause)._—Sin causes _unrest_. He who cures it alone
gives rest. Dwell on both facts.
_Verse 4 (first clause)._—Sin in its relations to us. To the _eye_
pleasing. To the _heart_ disappointing. In the _bones_ vexing. Over the
_head_ overwhelming.
_Verse 4._—The confession of an awakened sinner.
_Verse 4 (last clause)._—Sin. I. Heavy—“_a burden_.” II. Very heavy—“_a
heavy burden_.” III. Superlatively heavy—“_too heavy for me_.” IV. Not
immovable, for though too heavy _for me_, yet Jesus bore it.
_Verse 5._—“_Foolishness._” The folly of sin. Everything that a man has
to do with sin shows his folly. I. Dallying with sin. II. Committing it.
III. Continuing in it. IV. Hiding it. V. Palliating it.—_B. Davies._
_Verse 6._—Conviction of sin. Its grief, its depth, its continuance.
_Verse 6._—“_I go mourning._” I. Unlawful reasons for mourning. II.
Legitimate themes for sorrow. III. Valuable alleviations of grief.
_Verse 9._—The many desires of God’s children: the fact that God
understands them even when unexpressed; and the certainty that he will
grant them.
_Verse 9._—Omniscience, a source of consolation to the desponding.
_Verse 13._—The wisdom, dignity, power and difficulty of silence.
_Verse 15._—Prayer, the offspring of hope. Hope strengthened by
confidence in God’s answering prayer.
_Verse 17._—Mr. Ready-to-Halt. His pedigree, and infirmity; his
crutches, and his cure; his history, and safe departure.
_Verse 18._—The excellence of penitent confession.
_Verse 18._—The twin children of grace—confession and contrition: their
mutual revelation and reaction.
_Verse 18 (last clause)._—There is good reason for such sorrow, God is
well pleased with it. It benefits the mourner.
_Verse 19._—The terrible energy and industry of the powers of evil.
_Verse 22._—Faith tried, faith trembling, faith crying, faith grasping,
faith conquering.
Footnote 13:
As applied to diseases, signifies the exciting cause.
PSALM XXXIX.
TITLE.—To the Chief Musician, even to Jeduthun. _Jeduthun’s name, which
signifies praising or celebrating, was a most appropriate one for a
leader in sacred psalmody. He was one of those ordained by the King’s
order “for song in the house of the Lord with cymbals, psalteries, and
harps” (1 Chron. xv. 6), and his children after him appear to have
remained in the same hallowed service, even so late as the days of
Nehemiah. To have a name and a place in Zion is no small honour, and to
hold this place by a long entail of grace is an unspeakable blessing. O
that our households may never lack a man to stand before the Lord God of
Israel to do him service. David left this somewhat sorrowful ode in
Jeduthun’s hands because he thought him most fit to set it to music, or
because he would distribute the sacred honour of song among all the
musicians who in their turn presided in the choir._ A Psalm of David.
_Such as his chequered life would be sure to produce; fit effusion for a
man so tempted, so strong in his passions, and yet so firm in faith._
DIVISION.—_The Psalmist, bowed down with sickness and sorrow, is
burdened with unbelieving thoughts, which he resolves to stifle, lest
any evil should come from their expression, 1, 2. But silence creates an
insupportable grief, which at last demands utterance, and obtains it in
the prayer of verses 3 to 6, which is almost a complaint and a sigh for
death, or at best, a very desponding picture of human life. From verses
7 to 13 the tone is more submissive, and the recognition of the divine
hand more distinct: the cloud has evidently passed, and the mourner’s
heart is relieved._
EXPOSITION.
I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue:
I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.
2 I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, _even_ from good; and my
sorrow was stirred.