to God. 2. Not so in the history of the church. 3. Not so to the
provisions of grace wherein they are anticipated. II. Wherein they are
strange. 1. They reveal God anew. 2. Endear forgotten promises. 3. Train
unused graces. 4. Bring new praises, etc.
_Verse 3 (last clause)._—The root of sin: if they remembered his
authority they dared not, if they tasted his love they would not, if
they were conformed to his nature they could not.
_Verse 4._—A theme for wonder. 1. At his unmerited grace, that he should
side with _me_. 2. At his gracious power, for who can resist him? 3. At
his practical help, for he has upheld my soul.
_Verse 6._—We should sacrifice voluntarily, liberally, joyfully,
continuously, with pure motive.
_Verse 6._—The goodness of praising the good name.
_Verse 7 (first clause)._—The exclamation of the newly-pardoned
penitent, the cry of the delivered saint, the song of the ripe
Christian, the shout of the glorified believer.
PSALM LV.
TITLE.—To the Chief Musician on Neginoth.—_Another song to be
accompanied by stringed instruments. The strain is at one time mournful,
and at another softly sweet. It needed the chief musician’s best care to
see that the music was expressive of the sentiment._ Maschil. _It is not
a mere personal hymn, there is teaching in it for us all, and where our
Lord shines through David, his personal type, there is a great deep of
meaning._ Of David. _The man of many conditions, much tried and much
favoured, persecuted but delivered and exalted, was from experience
enabled to write such precious verses in which he sets forth not only
the sorrows of common pilgrims, but of the Lord of the way himself._
SUBJECT.—_It would be idle to fix a time, and find an occasion for this
Psalm with any dogmatism. It reads like a song of the time of Absalom
and Ahithophel. It was after David had enjoyed peaceful worship (verse
14), when he was or had just been a dweller in a city (verses 9, 10,
11), and when he remembered his former roamings in the wilderness.
Altogether it seems to us to relate to that mournful era when the King
was betrayed by his trusted counsellor. The spiritual eye ever and anon
sees the Son of David and Judas, and the chief priests appearing and
disappearing upon the glowing canvas of the Psalm._
DIVISIONS.—_From verses 1 to 8 the suppliant spreads his case in general
before his God; in verses 9, 10, 11, he portrays his enemies; in verses
12-14, he mentions one special traitor, and cries for vengeance, or
foretells it in verse 15. From verses 16 to 19 he consoles himself by
prayer and faith; in verses 20 and 21 he again mentions the deceitful
covenant-breaker, and closes with a cheering exhortation to the saints
(verse 22), and a denunciation of destruction upon the wicked and
deceitful (verse 23)._
EXPOSITION.
Give ear to my prayer, O God; and hide not thyself from my
supplication.
2 Attend unto me, and hear me: I mourn in my complaint, and make a
noise;
3 Because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of
the wicked: for they cast iniquity upon me, and in wrath they hate
me.
4 My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are
fallen upon me.
5 Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath
overwhelmed me.
6 And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! _for then_ would I
fly away, and be at rest.
7 Lo, _then_ would I wander far off, _and_ remain in the wilderness.
Selah.
8 I would hasten my escape from the windy storm _and_ tempest.
1. “_Give ear to my prayer, O God._” The fact is so commonly before us,
otherwise we should be surprised to observe how universally and
constantly the saints resort to prayer in seasons of distress. From the
Great Elder Brother down to the very least of the divine family, all of
them delight in prayer. They run as naturally to the mercy-seat in time
of trouble as the little chickens to the hen in the hour of danger. But
note well that it is never the bare act of prayer which satisfies the
godly, they crave an audience with heaven, and an answer from the
throne, and nothing less will content them. “_Hide not thyself from my
supplication._” Do not stop thine ear, or restrain thy hand. When a man
saw his neighbour in distress, and deliberately passed him by, he was
said to hide himself from him; and the Psalmist begs that the Lord would
not so treat him. In that dread hour when Jesus bore our sins upon the
tree, his Father did hide himself, and this was the most dreadful part
of all the Son of David’s agony. Well may each of us deprecate such a
calamity as that God should refuse to hear our cries.
2. “_Attend unto me, and hear me._” This is the third time he prays the
same prayer. He is in earnest, in deep and bitter earnest. If his God do
not hear, he feels that all is over with him. He begs for his God to be
a listener and an answerer. “_I mourn in my complaint, and make a
noise._” He gives a loose to his sorrows, permits his mind to rehearse
her griefs, and to pour them out in such language as suggests itself at
the time, whether it be coherent or not. What a comfort that we may be
thus familiar with our God! We may not complain _of_ him, but we may
complain _to_ him. Our rambling thoughts when we are distracted with
grief we may bring before him, and that too in utterances rather to be
called “_a noise_” than language. He will attend so carefully that he
will understand us, and he will often fulfil desires which we ourselves
could not have expressed in intelligible words. “Groanings that cannot
be uttered,” are often prayers which cannot be refused. Our Lord himself
used strong cryings and tears, and was heard in that he feared.
3. “_Because of the voice of the enemy._” The enemy was vocal and
voluble enough, and found a voice where his godly victim had nothing
better than a “noise.” Slander is seldom short of expression, it prates
and prattles evermore. Neither David, nor our Lord, nor any of the
saints were allowed to escape the attacks of venomous tongues, and this
evil was in every case the cause of acute anguish. “_Because of the
oppression of the wicked_:” the unjust pressed and oppressed the
righteous; like an intolerable burden they crushed them down, and
brought them to their knees before the Lord. This is a thrice-told
story, and to the end of time it will be true; he that is born after the
flesh will persecute him that is born after the Spirit. The great seed
of the woman suffered from a bruised heel. “_For they cast iniquity upon
me_,” they black me with their sootbags, throw the dust of their lying
over me, cast the vitriol of their calumny over me. They endeavour to
trip me up, and if I do not fall they say I do. “_And in wrath they hate
me._” With a hearty ill will they detested the holy man. It was no
sleeping animosity, but a mortal rancour which reigned in their bosoms.
The reader needs not that we show how applicable this is to our Lord.
4. “_My heart is sore pained within me._” His spirit writhed in agony,
like a poor worm; he was mentally as much in pain as a woman in travail
physically. His inmost soul was touched; and a wounded spirit who can
bear? If this were written when David was attacked by his own favourite
son, and ignominiously driven from his capital, he had reason enough for
using these expressions. “_And the terrors of death are fallen upon
me._” Mortal fears seized him, he felt like one suddenly surrounded with
the glooms of the shadow of death, upon whom the eternal night suddenly
descends. Within and without he was afflicted, and his chief terror
seemed to come from above, for he uses the expression, “Fallen upon me.”
He gave himself up for lost. He felt that he was as good as dead. The
inmost centre of his nature was moved with dismay. Think of our Lord in
the garden, with his “soul exceeding sorrowful even unto death,” and you
have a parallel to the griefs of the Psalmist. Perchance, dear reader,
if as yet thou hast not trodden this gloomy way, thou wilt do soon; then
be sure to mark the foot prints of thy Lord in this miry part of the
road.
5. “_Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me._” Like housebreakers
these robbers were entering his soul. Like one who feels a fainting fit
coming over him, so the oppressed suppliant was falling into a state of
terror. His fear was so great as to make him tremble. He did not know
what would happen next, or how soon the worst would come. The sly,
mysterious whisperings of slander often cause a noble mind more fear
than open antagonism; we can be brave against an open foe, but cowardly,
plotting conspiracies bewilder and distract us. “_And horror hath
overwhelmed me._” He was as one enveloped in a darkness that might be
felt. As Jonah went down into the sea, so did David appear to go down
into deeps of horror. He was unmanned, confounded, brought into a
hideous state of suspense and mortal apprehension.
6. “_And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly
away, and be at rest._” If he could not resist as an eagle, he would
escape as a dove. Swiftly and unobserved, on strong, untiring pinions
would he hie away from the abodes of slander and wickedness. His love of
peace made him sigh for an escape from the scene of strife.
“O for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression and deceit
Might never reach me more.”
We are all too apt to utter this vain desire, for vain it is; no wings
of doves or eagles could bear us away from the sorrows of a trembling
heart. Inward grief knows nothing of place. Moreover, it is cowardly to
shun the battle which God would have us fight. We had better face the
danger, for we have no armour for our backs. He had need of a swifter
conveyance than doves’ pinions who would outfly slander; he may be at
rest who does not fly, but commends his case to his God. Even the dove
of old found no rest till she returned to her ark, and we amid all our
sorrow may find rest in Jesus. We need not depart; all will be well if
we trust in him.
7. “_Lo, then would I wander far off._” Yet when David was far off, he
sighed to be once more near Jerusalem; thus, in our ill estate we ever
think the past to be better than the present. We shall be called to fly
far enough away, and perchance we shall be loth to go; we need not
indulge vain notions of premature escape from earth. “_And remain in the
wilderness._” He found it none such a dear abode when there, yet
resolves now to make it his permanent abode. Had he been condemned to
receive his wish he would ere long have felt like Selkirk, in the poet’s
verse—
“O solitude, where are the charms
That sages have found in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.”
Our Lord, while free from all idle wishes, found much strength in
solitude, and loved the mountain’s brow at midnight, and the quiet shade
of the olives of Gethsemane. It is better practically to use retirement
than pathetically to sigh for it. Yet it is natural, when all men do us
wrong, to wish to separate ourselves from their society; nature,
however, must yield to grace, and we must endure the contradiction of
sinners against ourselves, and not be weary and faint in our minds.
“_Selah._” After such a flight well may the mind rest. When we are going
too fast, and giving way too freely to regrets, it is well to cry,
“halt,” and pause awhile till more sober thoughts return.
8. “_I would hasten my escape._” He tried to pause but could not, like a
horse which when pulled up slips on a little because of the speed at
which he was going. David declares that he would not waste a moment, or
stay to bid adieu to his friends, but up and away at once, for fear he
should be too late, and because he could bear the clamour of his foes no
longer. “_From the windy storm and tempest._” A storm was brewing, and,
like a dove, he would outfly it and reach a calmer region. Swifter than
the storm-cloud would he fly, to avoid the deluge of rain, and the flash
of the lightning. Alas! poor soul, no such wings are thine, as yet thou
must tarry here and feel the tempest; but be of good cheer, thou shalt
stretch thy wings ere long for a bolder flight, heaven shall receive
thee, and there thy sorrows shall have a finis of felicity among the
birds of paradise.
9 Destroy, O Lord, _and_ divide their tongues: for I have seen
violence and strife in the city.
10 Day and night they go about it upon the walls thereof: mischief
also and sorrow _are_ in the midst of it.
11 Wickedness _is_ in the midst thereof: deceit and guile depart not
from her streets.
9. “_Destroy, O Lord._” Put mine enemies to the rout. Let them be
devoured by the sword, since they have unsheathed it against me. How
could we expect the exiled monarch to offer any other prayer than this
against the rebellious bands of Absalom, and the crafty devices of
Ahithophel? “_Divide their tongues._” Make another Babel in their
debates and councils of war. Set them at cross purposes. Divide the pack
that the hunted one may escape. The divisions of error are the hope of
truth. “_For I have seen violence and strife in the city._” The rabble
and their leaders were plotting and planning, raging and contending
against their king, running wild with a thousand mad projects: anarchy
had fermented among them, and the king hoped that now it might come to
pass that the very lawlessness which had exiled him would create
weakness among his foes. Revolution devours its own children. They who
are strong through violence, will sooner or later find that their
strength is their death. Absalom and Ahithophel may raise the mob, but
they cannot so easily rule it, nor so readily settle their own policy as
to remain firm friends. The prayer of David was heard, the rebels were
soon divided in their councils; Ahithophel went his way to be hanged
with a rope, and Absalom to be hanged without one.
10. “_Day and night they go about it upon the walls thereof._” The city,
the holy city had become a den of wickedness: conspirators met in the
dark and talked in little knots in the streets even in broad daylight.
Meanwhile the country was being roused to revolt, and the traitors
without threatened to environ the city, and act in concert with the
rebels within. No doubt there was a smothered fire of insurrection which
Absalom kindled and fanned, which David perceived with alarm some time
before he left Jerusalem; and when he quitted the city it broke out into
an open flame. “_Mischief also and sorrow are in the midst of it._”
Unhappy capital to be thus beset by foes, left by her monarch, and
filled with all those elements of turbulence which breed evil and
trouble. Unhappy king to be thus compelled to see the mischief which he
could not avert laying waste the city which he loved so well. There was
another King whose many tears watered the rebellious city, and who said,
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children
together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye
would not!”
11. “_Wickedness is in the midst thereof._” The very heart of the city
was base. In her places of authority crime went hand in hand with
calamity. All the wilder and more wicked elements were uppermost; the
_canaille_ were commanders; the scum floated uppermost; justice was at a
discount; the population was utterly demoralised; prosperity had
vanished and order with it. “_Deceit and guile depart not from her
streets._” In all the places of concourse crafty tongues were busy
persuading the people with cozening phrases. Crafty demagogues led the
people by the nose. Their good king was defamed in all ways, and when
they saw _him_ go away, they fell to reviling the governors of their own
choosing. The forum was the fortress of fraud, the congress was the
convention of cunning. Alas, poor Jerusalem, to be thus the victim of
sin and shame! Virtue reviled and vice regnant! Her solemn assemblies
broken up, her priests fled, her king banished, and troops of reckless
villains parading her streets, sunning themselves on her walls, and
vomiting their blasphemies in her sacred shrines. Here was cause enough
for the sorrow which so plaintively utters itself in these verses.
12 For _it was_ not an enemy _that_ reproached me; then I could have
borne _it_: neither _was it_ he that hated me _that_ did magnify
_himself_ against me; then I would have hid myself from him:
13 But _it was_ thou, a man mine equal, my guide, and mine
acquaintance.
14 We took sweet counsel together, _and_ walked unto the house of
God in company.
12. The reader will do well to observe how accurately the Psalmist
described his own Psalm when he said, “I mourn in my complaint,” or
rather “give loose to my thoughts,” for he proceeds from one point of
his sorrow to another, wandering on like one in a maze, making few
pauses, and giving no distinct intimations that he is changing the
subject. Now from the turbulent city his mind turns to the falsehearted
councillor. “_For it was not an enemy that reproached me; then I could
have borne it._” It was not an open foe, but a pretended friend; he went
over to the other camp and tried to prove the reality of his treachery
by calumniating his old friend. None are such real enemies as false
friends. Reproaches from those who have been intimate with us, and
trusted by us, cut us to the quick; and they are usually so well
acquainted with our peculiar weaknesses that they know how to touch us
where we are most sensitive, and to speak so as to do us most damage.
The slanders of an avowed antagonist are seldom so mean and dastardly as
those of a traitor, and the absence of the elements of ingratitude and
treachery renders them less hard to bear. We can bear from Shimei what
we cannot endure from Ahithophel. “_Neither was it he that hated me that
did magnify himself against me; then I would have hid myself from him._”
We can find a hiding-place from open foes, but who can escape from
treachery? If our enemies proudly boast over us we nerve our souls for
resistance, but when those who pretended to love us leer at us with
contempt, whither shall we go? Our blessed Lord had to endure at its
worst the deceit and faithlessness of a favoured disciple; let us not
marvel when we are called to tread the road which is marked by his
pierced feet.
13. “_But it was thou._” He sees him. The poetic fury is on him, he sees
the traitor as though he stood before him in flesh and blood. He singles
him out, he points his finger at him, he challenges him to his face.
“_But thou._” _Et tu, Brute?_ And thou, Ahithophel, art thou here?
Judas, betrayest _thou_ the Son of Man? “A _man mine equal_.” Treated by
me as one of my own rank, never looked upon as an inferior, but as a
trusted friend. “_My guide_,” a counsellor so sage that I trusted thine
advice and found it prudent to do so. “_And mine acquaintance_,” with
whom I was on most intimate terms, who knew me even as I knew him by
mutual disclosures of heart. No stranger occasionally conversed with,
but a near and dear friend admitted to my secret fellowship. It was
fiendish treason for such a one to prove falsehearted. There was no
excuse for such villainy. Judas stood very much in this relation to our
Lord, he was treated as an equal, trusted as treasurer, and in that
capacity often consulted with. He knew the place where the Master was
wont to spend his solitude, in fact, he knew all the Master’s movements,
and yet he betrayed him to his remorseless adversaries. How justly might
the Lord have pointed at him and said, “_But thou_;” but his gentler
spirit warned the son of perdition in the mildest manner, and had not
Iscariot been tenfold a child of hell he would have relinquished his
detestable purpose.
14. “_We took sweet counsel together._” It was not merely the counsel
which men take together in public or upon common themes, their
fellowship had been tender and confidential. The traitor had been
treated lovingly and trusted much. Solace, mutual and cheering, had
grown out of their intimate communings. There were secrets between them
of no common kind. Soul had been in converse with soul, at least on
David’s part. However feigned might have been the affection of the
treacherous one, the betrayed friend had not dealt with him coldly, or
guarded his utterance before him. Shame on the wretch who could belie
such fellowship and betray such confidence! “_And walked unto the house
of God in company._” Religion had rendered their intercourse sacred,
they had mingled their worship, and communed on heavenly themes. If ever
any bonds ought to be held inviolable, religious connection should be.
There is a measure of impiety, of a detestable sort, in the deceit which
debases the union of men who make professions of godliness. Shall the
very altar of God be defiled with hypocrisy? Shall the gatherings of the
temple be polluted by the presence of treachery? All this was true of
Ahithophel, and in a measure of Judas. His union with the Lord was on
the score of faith, they were joined in the holiest of enterprises, he
had been sent on the most gracious of errands. His co-operation with
Jesus to serve his own abominable ends stamped him as the firstborn of
hell. Better had it been for him had he never been born. Let all
deceitful professors be warned by his doom, for like Ahithophel he went
to his own place by his own hand, and retains a horrible pre-eminence in
the calendar of notorious crime. Here was one source of heart-break for
the Redeemer, and it is shared in by his followers. Of the serpent’s
brood some vipers still remain, who will sting the hand that cherished
them, and sell for silver those who raised them to the position which
rendered it possible for them to be so abominably treacherous.
15 Let death seize upon them, _and_ let them go down quick into
hell: for wickedness _is_ in their dwellings, _and_ among them.
15. Not thus would Jesus pray, but the rough soldier David so poured out
the anguish of his spirit, under treachery and malice seldom equalled
and altogether unprovoked. The soldier, as such, desires the overthrow
of his foes, for this very end he fights; and viewed as a matter of law
and justice, David was right in his wish; he was waging a just,
defensive war against men utterly regardless of truth and justice. Read
the words as a warrior’s imprecation. “_Let death seize upon them._”
Traitors such as these deserve to die, there is no living with them,
earth is polluted by their tread; if spies are shot, much more these
sneaking villains. “_Let them go down quick into hell._” While in the
vigour of life into _sheol_ let them sink, let them suddenly exchange
the enjoyment of the quick or living for the sepulchres of the dead.
There is, however, no need to read this verse as an imprecation, it is
rather a confident expectation or prophecy: God would, he was sure,
desolate them, and cast them out of the land of the living into the
regions of the dead. “_For wickedness is in their dwellings, and among
them._” They are too bad to be spared, for their houses are dens of
infamy, and their hearts fountains of mischief. They are a pest to the
commonwealth, a moral plague, a spiritual pestilence, to be stamped out
by the laws of men and the providence of God. Both Ahithophel and Judas
soon ended their own lives; Absalom was hanged in the oak, and the
rebels perished in the wood in great numbers. There is Justice in the
universe, love itself demands it; pity to rebels against God, as such,
is no virtue—we pray for them as creatures, we abhor them as enemies of
God. We need in these days far more to guard against the disguised
iniquity which sympathises with evil, and counts punishment to be
cruelty, than against the harshness of a former age. We have steered so
far from Scylla that Charybdis is absorbing us.
16 As for me, I will call upon God; and the LORD shall save me.
17 Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud:
and he shall hear my voice.
18 He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle _that was_
against me: for there were many with me.
19 God shall hear, and afflict them, even he that abideth of old.
Selah. Because they have no changes, therefore they fear not God.