Summary: David knew that if ever a man deserved to be punished by the living God for flagrant sin, for abuse of privilege, position, and power, for high-handed wickedness, then he was the man.

January 15, 2014

Tom Lowe

Title: PSALM 39: Altogether Vanity (Part 1)

A psalm of David.

PART 1 DAVID’S PLEDGE (VERSES 1-3)

Part 2 David’s Plea (verses 4-5)

Part 3 David’s Plight (verses 6-11)

Part 4 David’s Plan (verses 12-13)

Psalm 39 (KJV)

Part 1: David’s Plea (verses 1-3)

1 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.

3 My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue,

Introduction to Psalm 39

This psalm is probably a continuation of Psalm 38. David is still in the same dreadful plight of a man who has been stricken by God. However, in this psalm the mood has changed. David is no longer outrage at the dreadful thing which has seized upon his flesh. Instead, he has become more thoughtful, able to look at his plight more objectively, able even to philosophize upon his condition.

Two books need to be kept in mind when we read this psalm. One of them David had probably committed to memory during the dreadful case of physical agony and soul anguish; the book of Job. There would be one notable difference, however, between Job’s case and that of David. Job could see no cause-and-effect relationship between his life and his sufferings. That is not the case with David! He knew that, if ever a man deserved to be punished by the living God for flagrant sin, for abuse of privilege, position, and power, for high-handed wickedness, then he was the man.

The other book which needs to be read in connection with Psalm 39 is Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes is a sermon written by Solomon, endowed with wisdom, insight, knowledge, and understanding more than any before or since but whose light turned to darkness on account of his sin. Solomon, in spite of all his proverbs and wise sayings and profound insights, played the fool in Jerusalem, gave his lustful heart to a host of pagan women, and ended by raising up altars to the foul, false idols of Canaan in Jerusalem, the city of the living God.

With old age came remorse. Solomon looked back over his wasted life, over the disastrous things he had done, and longed to make amends, at least to leave some warning notice to those who might be tempted to follow his foolish ways. But what could he do, with his influence on the wane, with a fool for a son, and with rumblings of rebellion abroad in the land?

We can picture Solomon in his palace brooding over the words of divine wrath that had been delivered to him: “Wherefore the LORD said unto Solomon, Forasmuch as this is done of thee, and thou hast not kept my covenant and my statutes, which I have commanded thee, I will surely rend the kingdom from thee, and will give it to thy servant. Notwithstanding in thy days I will not do it for David thy father's sake: but I will rend it out of the hand of thy son. Howbeit I will not rend away all the kingdom; but will give one tribe to thy son for David my servant's sake, and for Jerusalem's sake which I have chosen” (1 Kings 11:11-13).

For David’s sake! For David thy father’s sake! For David My servants sake! Perhaps this word of judgment, that focused attention on David, turned Solomon’s mind to David’s psalms. We can picture him thumbing through them until at last he comes across Psalm 39. We can see him reading it carelessly, then carefully, then contritely, with tears running down his face and splashing on the page before him: “Verily, verily, every man at his best state is altogether vanity! Selah.” Surely every man is vanity! That was it—that was the word that summed up his life. Solomon stared at the word. We can see him throwing himself on his knees, as David his father had so often done. We can see him pouring out his heart as David, God’s servant, had done. We can see that handsome, dissipated old man, Solomon, power and pomp forgotten, wealth, wives, and works forgotten: “O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.”

Then we can picture Solomon with a new look in his eye and a fresh set to his jaw hail his servant and call for paper and pen. With the fresh page before him he pauses for a moment then begins his task: “The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.” So begins the greatest book in the Bible on the pursuits, perspectives, and prospects of the worldly-minded man.

So then, we may say almost that Psalm 39 has some of its roots in the book of Job and some of its fruits in the book of Ecclesiastes.

Introduction to Psalm 39 Part 1

The superscription fixed to Psalm 39 states, “To the choirmaster: to Jeduthun. A Psalm of David.” David appointed Jeduthun (along with Heman and Asaph) as one of the chief musicians to lead public worship (see 1 Chronicles 16:41-42; 25:1-3).

This psalm is an acknowledgement of iniquity and an expression of utter dependence upon God. The psalmist in the mood of silent resignation takes for granted that sin is the cause of his sickness. This psalm has been used in various ways: (a) The synagogue has employed it to interpret Jacob’s conversation with Pharaoh, Genesis 47:7-10; (b) The Anglican Prayer Book of 1549 recommended it to be read at a funeral; (c) The Catholic Benedictine Order based its rule of silence upon verses 1-2.

David promises God that in the future he will not sin with his tongue. There are three features to his pledge:

1. The Importance of it (39:1)

2. The Impropriety of it (39:2)

3. The Impossibility of it (39:3)

Commentary

1 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.

Seeing the prosperity of the wicked and hearing their blasphemous words so angered David that he wanted to retaliate and say something to defend God but he deemed it best to keep quiet. But this restraint only made his heart burn with intense pain (see 2 Corinthians 32:3 and Jeremiah 20:9) until finally he just had to speak out. The two Emmaeus disciples had “burning hearts” because of the way the Lord had expounded the Word to them, and Ezekiel had anguish in his spirit because of the difficult calling God had given him. David didn’t even say good things; he just kept quiet as long as he could. He gives two reasons in verse 1 for his self-imposed silence: (1) That I sin not with my tongue; (2) While the wicked is before me.” Both are a good rule for today’s Christian man and woman to follow, for the reason that bitter speech in times of trouble on the part of professing Christians is a strong incentive to the faithless to refuse to accept religion. They hear Christians suggesting that they have an anchor that holds; when it slips they ridicule religion, saying that that validates their unbelief. There is “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7), and wise is the person who knows the difference. David did not argue with God (v. 9) or with those who reproached him, but he did pray to the Lord.

David begins by disclosing that in a tense situation he kept himself in control. I said (to, within myself), I will take heed to my ways (as the context shows, we should read, “my words,” for “my ways”), that is, my behavior, especially what I say. My first act, of course, is to watch my tongue, my mouth, and my speech. That I sin not with my tongue—this sinning could have been in one or both of two ways: (1) directly, by criticizing God for not bringing retribution on the wicked, and/or (2) indirectly, by complaining within the hearing of the wicked.

David starts out with the good intention of keeping his mouth shut afraid that he may compound his liabilities by speaking evil against God and by murmuring because of His chastisement. He is particularly resolved not to speak against God in the presence of wicked men. Possibly, he was convicted in his own heart of speaking against God, so the psalmist was determined to suffer in silence. He experienced a severe illness, the cause of which he considered a blow from God. Death seemed near. He bore his illness in silent resignation, although he was severely tempted to give vent to complaining and rebellious words.

There are many whose lot he could have compared with his. There was that villain Shimei, whose venomous tongue was gossiping about David and pouring scorn upon his name and reputation. There was Absalom, his own son, plotting to seize the kingdom, even if it meant his father’s murder. There was Joab, hero turned tyrant ever since David wrote that compromising letter telling him to arrange for the death of Uriah.

Why did men like Shimei, Absalom, and Joab seemingly go scot-free when he, David, was living in the very suburbs of hell because of his sin? David resolutely pledged not to say a word, not too add to his other sins by sinning with his tongue. He said, “I will keep my mouth with a bridle,” that is, with all possible care and diligence. The phrase implies the great difficulty of ruling the tongue. He would bridle his tongue. It was an important pledge, one to which we all would do well to pay heed.

The expression “before me” means either: (1) In my presence; or (2) In my thoughts.

2 I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.

The word translated “dumb” means “to be tongue-tide.” “I was dumb with silence”; I was obstinately silent for so long that I seemed to myself and to others to be “dumb.” David so clamped down upon his words that he even refrained from saying good things for fear that he would say something unkind or harsh. But his efforts to keep silence only aggravated his sufferings. It is one thing to bridle the tongue against evil-speaking. But when we try to keep total silence we go beyond what God intended.

3 My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue,

Compare what David said in verse 1—“I will not sin “with my tongue . . . while the wicked is before me”—with this verse. He did not violate the conditions of his original commitment, since he did not vent before people, but unloaded his burdens before God. Keeping silent, says the psalmist, has been of no avail. He might just as well have tried to cap a volcano as try to keep silent. The smoldering fires within simply had to have an outlet. We are not told all he said when finally the inward pressure blew off the cap he had so artificially fastened on his emotions. We can be sure he said plenty.

David said, “My heart was hot within me,” that is, “I felt my heart boiling inside me, because I simply had to confront the wicked who were in my presence. I thought long and hard about it, and only then did I use my tongue. Our psalmist evidently shared with Jeremiah the violent experience of having a fire burn within him—“Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name. But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay” (Jeremiah 20:9).

Impatience is a sin that has its cause within ourselves, and that is, musing (meditation); and one of its bad affects is no less than burning, which can cause anger and even rage. “While I was musing,” that is, considering in my own thoughts the great wickedness and successfulness of my enemies, and other wicked men; while myself and other good men’s integrity is beset with great troubles and miseries in this life. Here the phrase, “the fire burned” means my thoughts kindled with passions. “While I was musing the fire burned” is often taken in a good sense as meaning that meditation stirs inner fire for a worthy cause; but actually it is a confession of weakness. The writer has been stoking his bitterness; now he can hold back the flame no longer. David says in the last clause, “Then spake I with my tongue”, that is to say, I said such words as I had previously vowed not to speak (v. 1); rash and impatient words; either: (1) Some words that are not expressed here; which having uttered to men, he turned his speech to God (v. 4); or (2) The dialogue which follows in the remainder of the psalm. When we are not able to separate ourselves from wicked men, we should remember that they will watch our words, and turn them, if they can, to our disadvantage.

Centuries later the Apostle James takes up the theme of bridling the tongue: “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man” (James 3:2). The word James uses means “the end.” In Latin it is finis. There is nothing beyond. The person has attained perfection. No wonder we find it so difficult to hold our tongues! It is the mark of perfection. David was anything but a perfect man. He was a poor, erring, mortal man with a heart to full to ever be stopped-up by a vow of silence.

The Lesson In A Nutshell: If David could come down from heaven to teach this passage, perhaps he would give the following summary:

“I was fiercely determined to keep myself from rebelling or complaining against the Lord in spite of the bleakness of my plight. I vowed to muzzle my mouth as long as I was in earshot of unbelievers; I didn’t want to give them any excuse for questioning the providence of God. So there I was, dumb and silent, with no outlet for my suppressed emotions. But it was of no use. My heart was red hot with indignation and perplexity. I couldn’t understand why the Lord was allowing me to endure such overwhelming grief. The more I nursed my bitterness of soul, the greater the inward pressure became. Finally all my pent up feelings burst forth in questioning prayer.

January 20, 2014

Tom Lowe

Title: PSALM 39: David’s Plea (Part 2)

A psalm of David.

Part 1 David’s Pledge (verses 1-3)

PART 2 DAVID’S PLEA (VERSES 4-5)

Part 3 David’s Plight (verses 6-11)

Part 4 David’s Plan (verses 12-13)

Psalm 39 (KJV)

Part 2: David’s Plea (verses 4-5)

4 LORD, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.

5 Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.

Introduction to Psalm 39 Part 2

David wanted to know the answer to two questions—the very two questions which plagued Solomon all through Ecclesiastes. This is a prayer for understanding. Lord, make me to know. The object of his prayer is knowledge to enable him to understand the frailty and vanity of life. He gives vent to his feelings and thoughts concerning the vanity of human aspirations. He hopes to be led back to a quiet confidence in God which will dispel these vain thoughts.

Commentary

4 LORD, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.

David can’t help but break his silence (v. 1-3) in the best possible way—by pouring out his heart to God. Poor David already knew the brevity of life. He had the prayer of Moses the man of God before him, that amazing prayer preserved forever in Psalm 90. He knew that man’s days were spanned by 70 years and that a man, blessed with unusual strength, might lengthen his days by another decade. That does not seem to be his burden, for as he pondered these things he realized that there are far more important attitudes in life than merely getting hot (v. 3) about the wicked.

The psalmist is rebellious as he feels his life slipping away and God seemingly unconcerned about it. He feels so fleeting (transitory, short-lived); his hold upon life is so fragile. Then swiftly his thought moves from his own frail life to the brevity of human existence generally. He sees no purpose in life. Man’s existence is mere appearance, not reality. He may even conceal a secret desire for death, so that he might be free from the torments which have made his life a burden to him. Whenever we find ourselves feeling like David, and creating physical and emotional pain for ourselves, then it’s time to talk to the Lord and seek His help.

What David wanted to know was, what is the meaning of life itself, their life and my life? How much longer he had—“the measure of my days”—“how much longer have I got left to live?” How much longer he must drag out his days, a living corpse, now that he had come under the punitive stroke of God? His prayer argued impatience and showed an unwillingness to wait long for deliverance. But Life’s frailty was very real to the afflicted king.

Israel’s great king had been afflicted by God and he longed for restoration. He could never again be secure in his possessions and mortal life, for he now saw how transient they were. David’s prayer for understanding was answered in his obtaining an impressive view of the vanity (v. 5) of the life of all men, and their short-lived existence.

5 Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.

A handbreath was just four fingers wide, less than half of a span, which was one of the least measurements of ancient times, i.e. very short. David realized that his life, at best, was as brief as a handbreath; it was nothing in the sight of God; it was “like the falling of a leaf, like the binding of a sheath.” Even David, with all his days, shrinks into nothingness in contrast with God, but every man, when standing most firmly, is only “a breath” (puff of wind) curling up for a moment in the chilly air, and gone. Even in its best state the whole of man’s life is soon all over (David repeats this thought in verse 11.). The word breath, means something unsubstantial, worthless; hence its synonyms are “vapor,” vanity, “nothing.” A shadow, because he quickly passes. The brief measure of his life is full of noise and hubbub, but it is all for nothing. We spend our lives scrimping and saving, and leave it all behind to be enjoyed by ingrates or fools or strangers!

There are two illustrations which come to mind, both of them belonging to the English: Lord Byron and Benjamin Disraeli.

Lord Byron, the most colorful of the English romantic poets discovered how brief life can be. Popular, successful, titled, Byron couldn’t care less for public opinion. He roamed Europe and the Middle East, became involved in Italian revolutionary politics, and cast his lot with the Greeks in their war of independence from the Turks. He died while still in his thirties. His poetry captured the imagination of his fellow countrymen. He tasted all that pleasure, popularity, and position that life could give. He wrote vanity across his life just three months before he died:

My days are in the yellow leaf;

The flowers and fruits of love are gone;

The worm, the canker, and the grief

Are mine alone.

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beaconsfield, one of Britain’s brilliant members of Parliament and her most zealous empire-builder, came to much the same conclusion as Byron. He defended and advanced Britain’s imperial interests in Africa and India. He thwarted Russia’s bid to seize Turkey, and confined the Russian bear to the Black Sea. He made Britain the dominant power in the Middle East by buying up a controlling interest in the Suez Canal. He was not only a brilliant Jewish statesman but a novelist of repute. Yet when he was old Disraeli wrote vanity over it all: “Youth is a mistake, middle age a struggle, old age a regret.”

Man at his best—vanity! So David thought. He has been deeply agitated by a view of human life, on which his bitter experience has focused his attention. He is in revolt against the deduction that the chief wisdom of life is to know that man is a “nothing.” He pleaded with God for some answer to the problem of life’s frailty and life’s futility. But as with Job, the answer seemingly did not come at once; he was left to languish in the dark, grappling with problems which seemed to have no solution.

One commentator translates the line, “verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity” as, “Surely, all mankind, so self-confident, is as a breath.” Altogether vanity implies that all he is or has is as vain and unstable as vanity itself; there is nothing but vanity and uncertainty in all his outward pleasures and in the health of his body and in the very disposition and attributes of his mind. The Hebrew word translated “vanity” means “a breath, emptiness” (see 62:9; 144:4; Job 14:2; Ecclesiastes 6:12).

Selah is a term of uncertain meaning. It is found seventy-one times in the Psalter and three times in Habakkuk. All of the psalms in which it occurs with the exception of two are attributed by title to David or one of the Levitical singers such as Asaph, the sons of Korah, Ethan, or Herman. The remaining two have no titles. Most of the psalms in which Selah occurs are also inscribed, “For the chief musician,” and frequently contain notes concerning the use of accompanying instruments. From these facts, Selah would seem to be a musical term, perhaps indicating a pause in the chanting of the hymn while instruments played. There are no clearly evident principles connecting its use to the thought of the psalms in which it occurs, but it generally ends a stanza or occurs before the introduction of some new and important thought. For modern readers, the most profitable interpretation would seem to be, “Pause—and meditate.” Personally, when I see the word Selah, I think of the commands stop, look, and listen; think this over, dear reader. The brevity of human life on this earth ought to tell us something. If this life is all there is to human existence, it is a colossal failure. I would rather be a dinosaur or a redwood tree and hang around for awhile, because compared to them man’s life is just a handbreath.

January 26, 2014

Tom Lowe

Title: PSALM 39: David’s Plight (Part 3)

A psalm of David.

Part 1 David’s Pledge (verses 1-3)

Part 2 David’s Plea (verses 4-5)

PART 3 DAVID’S PLIGHT (VERSES 6-11)

Part 4 David’s Plan (verses 12-13)

Psalm 39 (KJV)

Part 3: David’s Plight (verses 6-11)

6 Surely every man walketh in a vain shew: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.

7 And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.

8 Deliver me from all my transgressions: make me not the reproach of the foolish.

9 I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it.

10 Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.

11 When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. Selah.

Commentary

6 Surely every man walketh in a vain shew: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them .

David’s thoughts are now of the brevity of human existence in general. He sees no purpose in life. Man’s existence is mere appearance, not reality. All earning and amassing of wealth on man’s part is futile. Man seems especially frustrated when God disciplines him because of his sin and consumes his treasured possessions like a moth destroys clothing.

Nobody thinks of the rich man as being in a trap, but often he is. He is trapped by the wealth he has accumulated; greed creates a desire for even more wealth that cannot be satisfied. And there is the fear that the government will take too much in taxes, the stock market will experience a down-turn, he may die and his family will get what he has worked so hard for. But David’s sickness had sharpened his senses and brought things into clear focus. Believe me when I say that nothing can bring a clearer understanding of life and what is important in life than a serious disease. Back in 1985 my life almost came to an end when I had a heart attack and triple-bypass surgery. I was forced put everything in God’s hands. He brought me through it, and for many years I lived without any restrictions. Thirty years later I have a lot of restrictions placed upon me by doctors. But I thank God for my heart attack because it taught me some very important principles. Everything rests with God; He could have taken me to heaven, but he had another assignment for me, so he has kept me around. I know now that life is very precious, a gift from God. I will live as long as he wants me to, but I don’t want to live a day longer. I want to be with Jesus!

There is no doubt David was wealthy. He had amassed a vast fortune for the building of the temple alone. That part of his wealth was earmarked in his will for the Lord’s work and on his deathbed he charged Solomon that he must not touch it except for that purpose. But David was independently rich. The scribe tells us, in recording David’s death, that “he died in a good old age, full of days, riches, and honor” (1 Chronicles 29:28). But in his sickness he saw things in a sharper focus; he could see that “every man walketh,” that is, they go about busily and restlessly, hither and thither. He saw men laboring for wealth and as a result living lives of unreality and unrest, all made worse by materialism and mortality, living for what he calls “a vain shew” (show). David could clearly see, all around him, men in the pursuit of riches. It was a vain show—a shadow or image—imagery rather than a real life. They were in pursuit of vain imaginations, in which there is nothing solid or satisfactory. Man and his life and all his happiness in this world, are merely appearances and representations, and dreams, rather than truths and realities. The world of comfort and power, created by wealth, was a phantom unable to satisfy a thirsty, desperate soul. Nothing has changed. Think of the Christians who gather fortunes down here and leave it for godless offspring, or they leave it to unworthy so-called Christian work. We see a great deal of this. The psalmist saw it and ask, “What is the purpose of it all?”

In our greatest health and prosperity, every man is altogether vanity, he cannot live long; he may die soon. This is an undoubted truth, but we are very unwilling to believe it. Therefore let us pray that God would enlighten our minds by His Holy Spirit, and fill our hearts with His grace, so that we may be ready for death every day and hour.

7 And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.

8 Deliver me from all my transgressions: make me not the reproach of the foolish.

The psalmist reveals a cardinal factor in his fear of sudden death, that of dying unforgiven. In this also, we may surmise why he kept his fears from the wicked (v. 1). They would scoff at a man whose religion and faith did not give him security in the face of death, but would take no account of the moral factor of the deadliness of unforgiven sin. Hence they would ridicule a God who failed his servants at the last. Secondly, hope in God touches the matter of vindication from scoffers. They would not understand how the regenerate soul senses the divine abhorrence of sin, but they would have their mouths stopped if they saw him triumphing where they expected his downfall.

From the general pessimistic observations and the brooding (as if in God’s presence) upon the seeming futility of all human existence he turns back to his own life. But now his mood has changed. That numbing judgment of his own futility has vanished. The sense of life as a purposeless, meaningless existence drops off like an article of clothing. For one thing, the psalmist now has hope in God, the expectation that God will hear his cry and will do something to help him. “My hope is in thee,” said David, “I will seek for happiness nowhere but in the love and favor of God, and serving and glorifying him, and in the hope or confident expectation of enjoying Him here after.” This is the turning point of the psalm. The former thoughts are repeated; but the dark clouds are shot through with light.

“If life is short and goes past so swiftly,” asks David, “what am I waiting for? If the world is nothing but a shadow image, let me give myself to the Lord, who is the foundation of all that is real and lasting.” Today we would say, “The reality is of Christ” (Colossians 2:17). The main concern is not how long we live but how we live. Life is measured, not by how rich we are in material wealth, but whether we have values that last. Are we living with eternity’s values in view? “He who does the will of God abides forever” (1 John 2:17). In turning by faith to the Lord, David moved from hopelessness to hope and from paralysis to action. The next verses described what he did to bring about change.

In his sick room David thinks back over his past. There are two things he has to face:

1. The Reality of His Sin (39:7-9)

a. He Needed a Savior (39:7-8)

b. He Needed a Spokesman (39:9)

2. The Results of His Sin (39:10-11)

a. He Had Lost His Blessedness (39:10)

b. He Had Lost His Beauty (39:11a).

c. He Had Lost His Bearings (39:11b)

David connects deliverance from his transgressions with removal of the physical illness he had suffered. He knew that he was suffering under the hand of God for his sin but he kissed the hand that smote him. “Thank you, Lord. I needed that! But Lord, do not just smite me; save me.” “Deliver me from all my transgressions” Lord, so that I may not be disappointed in my hopes of enjoying You and Your favor, which is the only thing that I desire, and pardon all my sins, which stand like a thick cloud between You and me. It is a great moment when we cast our all on Him!

The expression “of the foolish” refers to wicked men, who though they profess and think of themselves as wise, are actually fools, which is evident from their eager pursuit of fruitless vanities and from their gross neglect of God, and of His service—the only One able to make them happy. There is no solid satisfaction to be had in others; but it is to be found only in the Lord, and in communion with Him; we should be driven to Him by our disappointments. If the world is nothing but vanity may God deliver us from having or seeking our portion in it.

9 I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it.

“I was dumb” (unable to speak)—but dumbness was not from God’s wrath, as in verse 2, but from trusting in Him and having a reverent acceptance of God’s will. “Thou didst it.” Like every truly convicted sinner, his mouth had been stopped (Romans 3:19), and he admitted his guilt before God (see 1 Samuel 3:18; Lamentations 1:21).

He knew his sufferings were what his sin deserved. But, if he had no defense, couldn’t God find someone to speak for him? His was the cry of Job when his soul yearned for a daysman , a mediator. Thank God, that Mediator has been found, that Spokesman now sets enthroned at God’s right hand in glory, a great High Priest, touched with the feelings of our infirmities, and an Advocate with the Father of Jesus Christ the righteous. What more could we need? A Mediator, a Priest, and Attorney in the presence of God!

10 Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.

The psalmist closes with an earnest petition. “Although I may not, I will not, open my mouth to complain about Your treatment of me, yet I may open it to complain and pray that You would remove the judgment which You have inflicted upon me. He is certain that his suffering has come from a hostile God, and he accepts it has such in the mood of pious resignation. But he appeals to God to save him from the humiliation of being the butt of the scornful comments of fools who are violating his character and his honor. He alleges his silent resignation, his uncomplaining endurance of God’s hostile hand upon him (v. 9), as an inducement for God to turn from enmity against him to mercy. “And now Lord . . . deliver me.”

The word “stroke” is the same word as in the previous psalm (38:11), a word which refers to the affliction of the leper. He had lost all sense of God’s blessing; instead he felt himself accursed. That was a direct result of his sin; fellowship with God was broken, life was filled with fear. Truly we pay a high price for sin. We don’t know the particular sins that had brought this stroke from the Lord, and we don’t have to know. We do know that God listens to the cry of the brokenhearted (51:17) and forgives when we confess (1 John 1:9). David was especially concerned that he’d not give occasion to “the foolish” to ridicule his faith (14:1; 69:7; 74:22; 79:4).

David the sufferer pleaded with God to remove the “stroke” and heal his body (see 32:4; 38:2). He uses three images to get his point across: a plague or sickness, draining away his life; the blow of God’s hand, like a loving parent disciplining a child; the rebuke of his Word, that cut deeply into David’s heart. C.S. Lewis was correct when he wrote in The Problem of Pain, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is His megaphone to arouse a deaf world.” The human body ages, decays, and dies; and the material wealth we gather gradually loses its value, like a moth silently destroying a garment. Jim Elliott’s oft-quoted statement certainly applies here: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” Vanity of vanity, all is vanity—unless we put our faith and hope in God.

11 When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. Selah.

“When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity ” refers to divine chastening that is well deserved, and it shows just how much God loves us. He could have ignored us. But no, he believes we are worth chastening for his name’s sake. The words “consume . . . like a moth” (or, rather, like the larva of the moth) describe the slow eating away of what is most precious to a man, that is, what is dear to him, his beauty of soul, his attractiveness, his desirableness (as indicated in Isaiah 53:2). Sin like a moth, eats away in the dark—secretly, silently, surely. It leaves its marks not only on the human soul, but on the human body as well. David’s beauty was gone; those good looks, that magnificent physique—the things that made him a born leader of men and irresistible to women, gone! Sin and sickness had consumed his beauty like a moth. What a poor thing beauty is! And what fools are those that are proud of it, when it will certainly, and may quickly, be consumed! The body of man is like a garment to the soul. In this garment sin has hidden a moth, which wears away, first the beauty, then the strength, and finally the substance of its parts.

We have all seen it happen. A young girl or an eager boy leaves home, falls into bad Company, and becomes a prey to sin. Soon the effects are seen, leaving indelible marks on the face and body. No better example could be cited than the effects of drugs and alcohol on the mind and body. Many of the homeless who roam the city streets have been ravaged by them. Jesus can change their hearts, but we must reap what we sow—we can’t reverse the effects of drugs and alcohol.

“Surely every man is vanity. Selah.” Man is like a vapor. We see the vapor rising from the surface of a lake. It stands for a moment, drifts with whichever breeze happens to blow, then vanishes away. David felt his life had become like that. He was adrift on life’s sea without chart or compass, rudder or sail. A Bible teacher described “vanity” as “what is left over after you break a soap bubble.”

These things were all the results of David’s sin. It was the same plight in which Solomon his son found himself at the end of his life when, haunted by the thought of death, he looked back over the wreckage of his life, and raised the same question—“I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the work into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless” (Ecclesiastes 2:18-19). Jesus emphasized the same truth in Luke 12:16-21. If you measure the length of life, you may become despondent, but if you look around you and measure the depth of life, you are appalled. Life is swift, life is short, and for most people, life is futile. In modern vocabulary, people are living for the image and not the reality.

The believer expects weariness and ill treatment on his way to heaven; but he shall not stay here long; walking with God by faith, he goes forward on his journey, not diverted from his course, nor discourage by the difficulties he meets. How blessed it is, that while we are here below, and while going home to our Father’s house, we may use the world but not abuse it. May we always look for that city whose Builder and Maker is God.

February 3, 2014

Tom Lowe

Title: PSALM 39: David’s Plan (Part 4)

A psalm of David.

Part 1 David’s Pledge (verses 1-3)

Part 2 David’s Plea (verses 4-5)

Part 3 David’s Plight (verses 6-11)

PART 4 DAVID’S PLAN (VERSES 12-13)

Psalm 39 (KJV)

Part 4: David’s Plan (verses 12-13)

12 Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.

13 O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.

Introduction

These two verses are David’s final cry; they express the pathetic bewilderment of one who can’t understand God’s ways with him, his servant and his child, despite the conclusion he (or someone else) had come to in the earlier verses. He cannot fathom what Isaiah calls “God’s strange work” (Isaiah 28:21). David’s plan was simply to cast himself entirely and unreservedly on the very God under whose chastening hand he writhed. He asked God to make him:

1. Happy Again (39:12a)

2. Holy Again (39:12b)

3. Healthy Again (39:13)

Commentary

12a Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears.

“Lord, look at my tears! Are not my tears evidence of my repentance? Do something about my tears!” The rabbis used to say that there are three kinds of supplication—prayer, crying, and tears. It is said, “Prayer is made in silence, crying with a loud voice, but tears surpass all.” Tears have an eloquence all their own.

When our situation is so desperate that we are reduced to tears in the presence of God, we can be quite sure that we have finally found the language that persuades. Our tears melt God’s heart and move His hand. The psalmist claims the divine protection. His days are few. He is only a passing guest, a “sojourner,” and is therefore, according to the ideas of that time, entitled to be treated as such.

Farsighted as he was, David saw that there can be no happiness without holiness for God has joined the two together. There is pleasure without purity but there is no happiness without holiness.

12b For I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.

The words “stranger” and “sojourner” were technical terms among the Hebrews for aliens and foreigners. His sin had made David practically an alien and a foreigner in his relationship with God, though he is not only a native, but king of this land. He feels like a stranger in his own country, for he is on a journey to his real and distant home, which is in another world. Along with all his ancestors he is just a squatter in the very land which God gave to Israel as a possession forever! The idea seems to be that David and his forebears were the guests of God and, according to Eastern custom, they are entitled to His protection and provision. He is expressing the same idea as that expressed in Leviticus 25:23: “The land shall not be sold for ever: for the land is mine; for ye are strangers and sojourners with me.” The implication is that every Israelite, and particularly David himself, were the proprietor’s or owners of their portions of Canaan, from which no other man could deprive or dispossess them, and therefore David’s enemies had done wrong in the eyes of God by banishing him from his portion and from the Lord’s inheritance; but yet in respect to God they were only strangers, and God was the only proprietor of it. The word for “stranger” is particularly interesting. It means “a house guest” or “one who turned aside for the night.” David had been God’s house guest and he had trespassed against all the laws of hospitality in his sin with Bathsheba. Behind this sad cry is a heart hunger for a complete restoration of that fellowship which cannot exist apart from holiness.

“As all my fathers were,” David said, “so am I”; both in thy judgment, and in their own opinion—“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth” (Hebrews 9:13)—upon which account You took special care of them, and therefore do the same for me.

We are just pilgrims and strangers down here, but we don’t think of it that way. We want to fix up our little corner of the earth and think it is going to be permanent. We want to wrap ourselves in a blanket of false security. May I say, at best we are pilgrims and strangers on earth, and that is the way we ought to live our lives. We are on a journey and we seek a city “whose builder and maker is God” (Hebrews 11:10). Oh, to have that hope today! The psalmist says of God, “My hope is in thee.”

We are not strangers “to” God, for He knows us and we know him, but we are strangers with God as his welcomed guests—“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever” (Psalm 23:6). He hears our prayers and cries, and He sees our tears. “In the world you will have tribulation,” Jesus told his disciples, “but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). His closing prayer was that God would turn away His frowning face and give him strength to return to life with its duties and burdens, and then one day enable him to pass into eternity.

Friend, God is your constant companion. God is your fellow-pilgrim. “And Life need not be lonely, if He is with us; nor is its shortness sad.”

13 O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.

“Spare me,” i.e., stop afflicting me; do not destroy me. My life at best is short and miserable, and as I have said, thou knowest; sufficient for it is the evil thereof: do not afflict the afflicted. “Spare me” has been interpreted by some to mean “look away from me,” i.e., let thine angry eyes be fixed on me no more.

“That I may recover strength,” both in my inward and outward man, both of which are at present weakened and oppressed. He wanted his strength back. The words “recover strength” literally means “brighten up,” as when the clouds roll away from the overcast skies. David was staring down into the grave when he prayed that. His affliction was carrying him swiftly down to the doors of death. All around was darkness but his hand reached up waveringly through the deepening gloom toward God.

“Before I go hence,”—that is, unto the grave, as this phrase is used in Genesis 15:2 and 25:32—“and be no more.” I shall not return, for I will no longer be among the living. What a tragic end to the psalm!—unless you know the rest of the story. The phrase “no more” doesn’t suggest annihilation or the absence of an afterlife, but that David would “no more” be on his earthly pilgrimage. “I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (23:6).

David’s final plea to God is “Enable me to live so that my life will cause men and women to think on eternity. Enable me to live a life that will not turn folk away from God but draw them to Him.” We hear a lot today about personal witnessing, but what about the testimony of our lives? Are people turning to God because of the way we are living, or are they turning away from God? I am confident that our lives are doing one or the other.

Well, David did get better. The historians actually ignore his sickness altogether. When David reread this psalm he was happy again, holy again, and healthy again, so he added a little note: “To the chief Musician!” That means he sent it to be included in the special numbers to be sung by the temple choir. It means, on a deeper and more spiritual note, that he dedicated this psalm to the Lord Jesus Christ—He who is the true Chief Musician! It was David’s way of saying “Thank you Lord.”