_hope_ hath on the Christian in affliction, and how. First, it stills
and silenceth him under affliction. It keeps the king’s peace in the
heart, which else would soon be in an uproar. A hopeless soul is
clamorous: one while it chargeth God, another while it reviles his
instruments. It cannot long rest, and no wonder, when hope is not there.
Hope hath a rare art in stilling a froward spirit, when nothing else
can; as the mother can make the crying child quiet by laying it to the
breast, when the rod makes it cry worse. This way David took, and found
it effectual; when his soul was unquiet by reason of his present
affliction, he lays it to the breast of the promise: “Why art thou cast
down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God.”
And here his soul sweetly sleeps, as the child with the breast in his
mouth; and that this was his usual way, we may think by the frequent
instances we find; thrice we find him taking this course in two Psalms,
xlii. and xliii.... Secondly, this hope fills the afflicted soul with
such inward joy and consolation, that it can laugh while tears are in
the eye, sigh and sing all in a breath; it is called “the rejoicing of
hope,” Heb. iii. 6. And hope never affords more joy than in affliction.
It is on a watery cloud that the sun paints those curious colours in the
rainbow.... There are two graces, which Christ useth above any other, to
fill the soul with joy—faith and hope, because these two fetch all their
wine of joy without door. Faith tells the soul what Christ hath done for
it, and so comforts it; hope revives the soul with the news of what
Christ will do: both draw at one tap—Christ and his promise.—_Condensed
from William Gurnall._
_Verse 5.—“Hope thou in God.”_ The word which is here rendered “_hope_”
denotes that _expectation_ which is founded on faith in God, and which
leads the soul to _wait_ upon him. The idea is beautifully expressed in
Psalm xxxix. 7. “And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in
thee.”—_Henry March._
_Verse 5.—“I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.”_
When it may be said, “He whom God loveth is sick,” then it may be said,
“This sickness is not unto death;” and though it be to the first death,
yet not to the second. Who would think when Jonah was in the sea (Jonah
iii.), that he would preach at Ninevah? Who would think when
Nebuchadnezzar was in the forest (Dan. iv.), that he should reign again
in Babel? Who would think when Joseph was banished of his brethren, that
his brethren should seek unto him like his servants? Who would think
when Job scraped his sores upon the dunghill, all his houses were
burned, all his cattle stolen, and all his children dead, that he should
be richer than ever he was? These are the acts of mercy which make the
righteous sing, “The Lord hath triumphed valiantly.” Exodus
15-21.—_Henry Smith._
_Verse 5.—“I shall yet praise him.”_ David’s mind is upon the _duty_
more than upon the _mercy_; upon the _duty_, as it is a matter of
_grace_, more than upon the _mercy_, as it is a matter of _sense_. And,
therefore, by a happy mistake, his tongue slips, as men are wont to do
in such cases, and he puts one for the other; when he should say, _I
shall receive mercy from God_, he says, “_I shall give praise to
him._”—_Thomas Horton._
_Verse 5._—He is the skilful physician, who at the same time that he
evacuates the disease, doth also comfort and strengthen nature; and he
the true Christian, that doth not content himself with a bare laying
aside evil customs and practices, but labours to walk in the exercise of
the contrary graces. Art thou discomposed with impatience, haunted with
a discontented spirit under any affliction? Think it not enough to
silence thy heart from quarrelling with God, but leave not till thou
canst bring it sweetly to rely on God. Holy David drove it thus far; he
did not only chide his soul for being disquieted, but he charges it to
trust in God.—_William Gurnall._
_Verse 5._—There was one Alice Benden, who, among others, was imprisoned
for religion in Canterbury Castle; but after awhile, by the bishop’s
order, she was let down into a deep dungeon, where none of her friends
could come at her. There she was fed with an halfpenny bread, and a
farthing beer a day, neither would they allow her any more for her
money. Her lodging was upon a little straw, between a pair of stocks and
a stone wall. This made her grievously to bewail and lament her estate,
reasoning with herself, why her Lord God did in so heavy a wise afflict
her, and suffered her thus to be sequestered from the sweet society of
her loving prison-fellows. In this extremity of misery, and in the midst
of these dolorous mournings she continued, till on a night, repeating
that of the Psalmist: “_Why art thou so heavy, O my soul? and why art
thou so cast down within me? Still trust in God_,” etc.; and, _God’s
right hand can change all this_, etc.; she received comfort in the midst
of her sorrows, and so continued joyful to the time of her
release.—_Samuel Clarke’s “Mirrour.”_
_Verses 5, 11._—In case thou art at any time oppressed with sorrows, ask
thy heart and soul that question which David did in the like case twice
in one Psalm: “_Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou
disquieted within me?_” and certainly the soul would return answer, My
distress of sadness springs from my unbelief. You may know the disease
by the cure, in the very next words, “_O put thy trust in God; hope thou
in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance,
and my God._” All sorrow of heart springs principally from our unbelief,
not from the greatness of other evils; I mean, _destructive_ sorrow, for
godly sorrow is a friend to godly joy. It is not so much the weight of
the burthen, as the soreness of the back, that troubles the poor beast:
so it is not so much the weight of outward evils, as the inward soreness
of a galled conscience, not purified nor healed by faith, that vexeth
and troubleth the poor creature.—_Matthew Lawrence, in “The Use and
Practice of Faith,” 1657._
_Verses 5, 11._—As afflictions do proceed from ourselves, they may be
called troubles, or perturbations; for the best man doth sometimes cause
this bad liquor to boil out of his own bowels. David, not once, but
often, hath cried out, “_Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art
thou disquieted in me?_” And show me the man that annoyeth and troubleth
not himself in vain, because with patience he doth not tarry the Lord’s
leisure? The foolish bird, who, being in a room whose door is locked,
and the casements shut, beateth herself against the wall and windows,
breaking her feathers and bruising her body, whereas, would she stay
till the passages were by the keeper opened, she might depart, being not
at all wounded; even so falleth it out with us: for when the Lord doth
shut us up, and straiten our liberty for a time, we would fain make way
for ourselves, having many devices in our hearts to break through the
walls of his providence; whereas, if we would stay his leisure, depend
on his promise, and submit ourselves to be disposed of by his hand, we
might with more ease endure this prison, and with less hurt at the last
be set at liberty. For God is in one mind, and who can change him? He
will bring to pass that thing that he hath decreed upon us.—_John
Barlow’s Sermon, 1618._
_Verses 5, 11._—If you would get assurance, spend more time in
strengthening your evidences for heaven, than in questioning of them. It
is the great fault of many Christians they will spend much time in
questioning, and not in strengthening their comforts. They will reason
themselves into unbelief, and say, Lord, why should I believe? Why
should I take hold of a promise that am so unholy and so unmortified a
creature? And so by this they reason themselves to such a pass that they
dare not lay hold upon Christ, whereas it should be your work to reason
yourselves into Christ as much as you can. Labour to strengthen your
comforts, and reason thus, Why should I not believe in Christ? Thus
David did. Psalm xlii. “_Why art thou troubled, O my soul, and why art
thou cast down within me?_” Is not the mercy of God more than sin in the
creature? Is not there free grace where there is guilt? Are not there
pardoning mercies where condemnation is deserved? You should reason up
your comforts rather than reason them down, and spend more time in
strengthening than in questioning of them. You would count him a very
unwise man that hath a lease of so much land, and he himself shall
create scruples and doubts, and shall use no means to make his title
good. And truly many Christians are as unwise for heaven. They have, as
I may say, good bond and seal that God will bring them to heaven, and
yet they will question and cavil themselves into unbelief. Beloved, this
should not be, but you ought rather to strengthen your comforts than
question them.—_Christopher Love._
_Verse 6.—“O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore will I
remember thee.”_ “Because I am very low in spirit, am deeply sorrowful,
therefore will I remember thee. I will remember how condescending thou
art to thy ‘poor and afflicted people;’ how ready to receive them when
deserted or cast out by men; how kind and patient to hear their
complaint when they pour out the soul before thee. I will remember thy
lovingkindness to _me_ in seasons past; how thou hast looked on my
distress, hast heard the voice of my supplications, hast delivered me
from my trials, or helped me to bear their burden, strengthening me with
strength in my soul. I will remember all that I have enjoyed of thy
presence when waiting on thee in thy house, or when celebrating thy
praises there in company with thy ‘saints, the excellent of the earth.’
I will remember what thou ART; how meet an object for the trust of a
desolate being like myself! For though I am poor, thou art rich; though
I am weak, thou art mighty; though I am miserable, thou art happy. I
will remember that thou art _my_ God. That thou hast manifested thyself
to my soul, that thou hast enabled me to choose thee for my portion,
that I have trusted in thee, and have never been confounded. I will
remember that word of promise on which thou hast caused me to hope, to
which thou hast ever been faithful throughout all the past, and _will_
be, as I truly believe, even unto the end.” Oh, how happy, even in the
midst of their unhappiness, are they, who in their trials, can thus take
shelter in God!—_Henry March._
_Verse 6._—“MY _God_.” Astonishing expression! Who shall dare to say to
the Creator of the ends of the earth, the Majesty in the heavens, “_My
God_”? An exile, a wanderer, an outcast; a man forsaken, despised,
reviled; a soul cast down and disquieted: _he_ shall dare. By what
right? Of covenant.—_Henry March._
_Verse 6.—“Therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and
of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.”_ It is remarkable what course
the Psalmist took to regain comfort; he would remember three experiments
of his goodness—“the land of _Jordan_,” the land “of the _Hermonites_,”
and “the hill _Mizar_.” First will I remember the land _Jordan_; that
is, I will remember the great goodness of God in drying up the river
Jordan, that so the tribes of Israel might pass over to the promised
land: why, God that hath been good, will be good. Then, I will remember
the land of the _Hermonites_; in that land were Sihon, king of the
Amorites, and Og king of Bashan, were defeated; that you read of in
Joshua xii. 1, 2. “Now these are the kings of the land, which the
children of Israel smote, and possessed their land on the other side
Jordan toward the rising of the sun, from the river Arnon unto Mount
Hermon.” _Mizar_, some think to be a little hill near Mount Sinai, where
the law was given. I will remember God’s goodness, in giving a law to
his people. Here David would call to remembrance the goodness of God of
old, to regain to him comfort and quietness in his mind.—_Christopher
Love._
_Verse 6.—“The Hermons,”_ or the peaks or ridges of Hermon, the plural
being used either because of the _two_ peaks of the mountain (Wilson,
“_Land of the Bible_”), or as I think probably, of the whole range of
its snowy hights.—_J. J. Stewart Perowne._
_Verse 6.—“The Hermons,”_ _i.e._, as some suppose, Mount Hermon, and the
other mountains upon that side of the river, just as Baalim means Baal,
and other idols worshipped with him; or more probably Mount Hermon
considered not as a single eminence, but a chain or range, like the
Alps, the Alleghanies, etc.—_J. A. Alexander._
_Verse 6.—“From the hill.”_ He that has a rich life of past experience
is thereby placed upon an eminence from which he may take a happy view
of the path lying before him.—_J. P. Lange’s Commentary._
_Verse 7.—“Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts.”_
Here he has conjoined two awful and terrific phenomena of nature. It is
a fact well ascertained by the evidence of travellers, that the falling
of waterspouts is not uncommon on the coast of Judea. It should seem
that they are occasioned by the congregating of great masses of cloud,
whose waters concentrating to a point, pour themselves down in a
tremendous column, accompanied with a roaring noise. Now, the image
conceived in the mind of the Psalmist seems to be that of the rushing of
this vast water-spout down into the sea, already agitated, and
increasing the turbulence and disorder of its waves. An awful picture!
Especially if there be added to it the ideas of a black tempestuous sky,
and the deafening roar occasioned by the tumult. What would be the
situation of a vessel in the midst of such a tempest, the deluge pouring
down from above, and all around her the furious ocean heaving its
tremendous surges—how ungovernable, how helpless, how next to impossible
that she should escape foundering except by some almost miraculous
interference. Yet to such a situation does David here compare the state
of his soul when submersed, as it were, under a sea of afflictions; “all
thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.” How pungent must his sense
of grief have been to occasion him to make use of such a comparison, so
strongly expressive of the utmost danger and terror!—_Henry March._
_Verse 7.—“Deep calleth unto deep,”_ etc. The abyss above calls on the
abyss below, in the voice of the droppings of thy waterspouts.—_Targum._
_Verse 7.—“Deep calleth unto deep.”_ So let prayer unto prayer, and
faith unto faith, and one grace to the exercise of another. If we cannot
prevail with God it may be the first time, yet we may the second; or if
not then, the third.—_Thomas Horton._
_Verse 7.—“Deep calleth unto deep.”_ What’s that? Why, it is expressed
in the verse before: “_O God_,” says he, “_my soul is cast down within
me_.” “_Down_,” that is _deep_ into the jaws of distrust and fear. And,
Lord, my soul in this _depth_ of sorrow, calls for help to thy _depth_
of mercy. For though I am sinking and am going down, yet not so low but
that thy mercy is yet underneath me. Do, of thy compassions, open those
everlasting arms, and catch him that has no help or stay in himself. For
so it is with one that is falling into a _well_ or a _dungeon_.—_John
Bunyan._
_Verse 7._—Here the Psalmist feels the spirit of bondage, which is wrath
and fear; and he prays for the joy of God’s salvation, and to be upheld
by God’s free spirit, which is the Holy Spirit, the spirit of love and
power. He complains of “_deep calling unto deep_.” A soul in the
horrible pit hears little else but the calls of law and justice for
vengeance, which are always answered again by the accusations of Satan
and conscience. The storms of Sinai, like a _water-spout_ at sea,
threaten the earthen vessel with a deluge of wrath, which would soon
drown it in destruction and perdition. These waves of real, and some
imaginary, displeasure (no less terrible than real), rolling over the
poor creature, are ready to send the bark to the bottom. This is the
terrible way in which some fallen and backsliding souls are purged and
reclaimed, and especially such as have brought public scandal upon the
gospel, and church of Christ.—_William Huntington (1744-1813) in
“Contemplations of the God of Israel.”_
_Verse 7.—“Thy waterspouts,”_ Dr. Boothroyd translates צִנּוֹרֶיךָ,
“_thy cataracts_.” In justification of which translation, he observes
that the situation of David suggested this forcible image. He saw the
torrents falling from the precipices, and heard them resounding, and as
if calling to one another for assistance; so, says he, all thy waves,
that is, afflictions and troubles, come upon me and overwhelm me.—_John
Morison._
_Verse 7.—“Waterspouts.”_ Look at those clouds which hang like a heavy
pall of sackcloth over the sea, along the western horizon. From them, on
such windy days as these, are formed _waterspouts_, and I have already
noticed several incipient “spouts” lengthening downward from their lower
edge. These remarkable phenomena occur most frequently in spring, but I
have also seen them in autumn. They are not accompanied with much rain;
and between the dark stratum above and the sea, the sky is clear and
bright. Here and there fragments of black vapour, shaped like long
funnels, are drawn down from the clouds towards the sea, and are seen to
be in violent agitation, whirling round on themselves as they are driven
along by the wind. Directly beneath them the surface of the sea is also
in commotion by a whirlwind, which travels on in concert with the spout
above. I have often seen the two actually unite in mid air, and rush
toward the mountains, writhing, and twisting, and bending, like a huge
serpent, with its head in the clouds and its tail on the deep.
They make a loud noise, of course, and appear very frightful. “_Deep
calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy waves and thy
billows are gone over me_,” said David, when his soul was cast down
within him. But, though formidable in appearance, they do very little
injury. I have never heard of more than one instance in which they
proved destructive even to boats, though the sailors are extremely
afraid of them. As soon as they approach the shore, they dissolve and
disappear. That kind of waterspout which bursts on the mountains,
generally in the dry months of summer, does immense mischief. In a few
minutes the wadies along its track are swollen into furious rivers,
which sweep away grain, olives, raisins, and every other produce of the
farmer. I have frequently known them to carry off and drown flocks of
sheep and goats, and even cows, horses, and their owners also.—_W. M.
Thomson._
_Verse 7.—“All thy waves and thy billows.”_
Deep to deep incessant calling,
Tossed by furious tempests’ roll,
Endless waves and billows falling,
Overwhelm my fainting soul.
Yet I see a Power presiding
Mid the tumult of the storm,
Ever ruling, ever guiding,
Love’s intentions to perform.
Yes, mid sorrows most distressing,
Faith contemplates thy design,
Humbly bowing, and confessing
All the waves and billows THINE.
_Henry March._
_Verse 7.—“All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.”_
Wide o’er misfortune’s surging tide
Billows succeeding billows spread;
Should one, its fury spent, subside,
Another lifts its boisterous head.
_Æschylus in “The Seven Chiefs against Thebes.”_
_Verse 8.—“Yet the Lord will command his lovingkindness.”_ His
expression is remarkable; he does not say simply that the Lord will
bestow, but, “_command his lovingkindness_.” As the gift bestowed is
grace—free favour to the unworthy; so the manner of bestowing it is
sovereign. It is given by decree; it is a royal donative. And if _he_
commands the blessing, who shall hinder its reception?—_Henry March._
_Verse 8._—’Tis all one to a godly man, _night_ or _day_. For what
_night_ can there be to him who hath God always with him, who is a _sun_
to comfort him, as well as a shield to protect him (Ps. lxxxiv. 11); and
_the light of whose countenance_, if it be but very little, is more
comfortable than all things else whatsoever that the _day_ can bring
with it. He can say, “When I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light
unto me” (Mic. vii. 8); and “the Lord my God will enlighten my
darkness.” Ps. xviii. 28. To tell you the truth, I think the _night_ is
the merriest time that the godly man hath, and the saddest for the
wicked man (who, though he make use of _darkness_ to hide his sin, yet
is he afraid, because of that very thing in which his safety consists).
For if a man be merry in good company, he must needs be more merry when
he enjoys it better, and there is less to disturb his mirth. So as it is
with a godly man in the _night_, when the greatest part of his
hindrances are removed, and he can “delight himself in the Almighty”
without disturbance. Job. xxvii. 10. David says that the Lord would
indeed “_command his lovingkindness in the daytime_,” but “_in the
night_ (says he) _his song shall be with me_”—“his song,” as I think,
not of _thanksgiving_, but of _joy and exultation_, such as God uses to
give at that time. Job. xxxv. 10. In the _daytime_ the soul is so taken
up with base employments, so distracted with variety of sensible
objects, and so busied with work for the body, that either she hath no
leisure at all to do her own work (such as this joy is as much as
anything), or she cannot do it so well as she would, or so well as she
could _in the night_, when she hath less to do. I doubt not but the
worldly and carnal man, now that I am talking so much of _night_ and
sleep, will be ready to say that I do but _dream_, and to answer me as
the fellow did the hunter, when he bade him hear “what heavenly music
his dogs made.” For I know he counts the music and songs that we speak
of, nothing but a frenzy, or a fancy at the least, such as mad and
diseased people have in their brain, while they imagine it to be in the
air. But, as Peter said of those upon whom the Holy Ghost fell, “These
men are not drunk, as ye suppose;” so may I reply to such men, No such
matter, the godly are not mad, as ye suppose, for their songs are not
works of their own fancy, not made of their own head, but set for them
by God himself, “who giveth songs in the night.” Job. xxxv. 10.—_Zachary
Bogan._
_Verse 8.—“And my prayer unto the God of my life.”_ Here may be seen
that David’s religion was a religion of prayer _after_ deliverance, as
well as before. The selfish who cry out in trouble will have done with
their prayers, when the trouble is over. With David it was the very
reverse. Deliverance from trouble would strengthen his confidence in
God, embolden his addresses to him, and furnish him with new
arguments.... There is great _need_ of prayer after deliverance; for the
time of deliverance is often a time of temptation, the soul being
elated, and thrown off its guard. At such seasons much of the joy that
is felt may be merely natural, as David’s would probably be when rescued
from that corroding care which injures the body as well as distresses
the soul. There is danger of mistaking; of supposing it to be all
spiritual, and hence of imagining the soul to be in a higher state of
grace than it really is, and so, of being imperceptibly drawn into a
state of false security. There is then especial need of that prayer.
“Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe.” And with some peculiarly, who
being of a sanguine constitution of mind, are in times of enjoyment,
soon puffed up and brought into danger.—_Henry March._
_Verse 8 (last clause)._—Your song and your prayer must be directed to
God as “_the God of your life_.” You do not own him as God, except you
own and adore him as your all sufficient good, and that “fulness which
filleth all in all.” You detract from the glory of his Godhead, if you
attribute not this to him; and if, accordingly, as one that cannot live
without him, you do not seek union with him, and join yourself to him,
and then rejoice and solace yourself in that blessed conjunction.—_John
Howe._