Treasury of David
The sacred poet commences by affirming his belief in the faithfulness of the Lord to his covenant with the house of David, and makes his first pause at Ps 89:4. He then praises and magnifies the name of the Lord for his power, justice, and mercy, Ps 89:5-14. This leads him to sing of the happiness of the people who have such a God to be their glory and defense, Ps 89:15-18. He rehearses the terms if the covenant at full length with evident delight, Ps 89:19-37, and then mournfully pours out his complaint and petition, Ps 89:38-51, closing the whole with a hearty blessing and a double Amen. May the Holy Spirit greatly bless to us the reading of this most precious Psalm of instruction.
Verse 1. He who dwells in the secret place of the most High.
The blessings here promised are not for all believers—but for those who live in close fellowship with God. Every child of God looks towards the inner sanctuary and the mercy-seat—yet all do not dwell in the most holy place; they run to it at times, and enjoy occasional approaches—but they do not habitually reside in the mysterious presence.
Those who through rich grace obtain unusual and continuous communion with God, so as to abide in Christ and Christ in them, become possessors of rare and special benefits, which are missed by those who follow afar off, and grieve the Holy Spirit of God. Into the secret place those only come, who know the love of God in Christ Jesus, and those only dwell there to whom to live is Christ. To them the veil is rent, the mercy-seat is revealed, the covering cherubs are manifest, and the solemn glory of the Most High is apparent: these, like Simeon, have the Holy Spirit upon them, and like Anna they depart not from the temple; they are the courtiers of the Great King, the valiant men who keep watch around the bed of Solomon, the virgin souls who follow the Lamb wherever he goes.
Elect out of the elect, they have "attained unto the first three", and shall walk with their Lord in white, for they are worthy. Sitting down in the august presence chamber where shines the mystic light of the Shekinah, they know what it is to be raised up together, and to be made to sit together with Christ in the heavenlies, and of them it is truly said that their life is in Heaven. Special grace like theirs brings with it special immunity. Outer court worshipers little know what belongs to the inner sanctuary, or surely they would press on until the place of nearness and divine familiarity became theirs. Those who are the Lord's constant guests shall find that he will never allow any to be injured within his gates; he has eaten the covenant salt with them, and is pledged for their protection.
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
The Omnipotent Lord will shield all those who dwell with him—they shall remain under his care as guests under the protection of their host. In the most holy place the wings of the cherubim were the most conspicuous objects, and they probably suggested to the psalmist the expression here employed.
Those who commune with God are safe with Him, no evil can reach them, for the outstretched wings of his power and love cover them from all harm. This protection is constant—they abide under it, and it is all-sufficient, for it is the shadow of the Almighty, whose omnipotence will surely screen them from all attack. No shelter can be imagined at all comparable to the protection of Jehovah's own shadow. The Almighty himself is where his shadow is, and hence those who dwell in his secret place are shielded by himself. What a shade in the day of noxious heat! What a refuge in the hour of deadly storm! Communion with God is safety. The more closely we cling to our Almighty Father the more confident may we be.
Verse 2. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress.
To take up a general truth and make it our own by personal faith is the highest wisdom. It is but poor comfort to say 'the Lord is a refuge,' but to say he is my refuge, is the essence of consolation.
Those who believe should also speak, "I will say", for such bold avowals honor God and lead others to seek the same confidence. Men are apt enough to proclaim their doubts, and even to boast of them, indeed there is a party nowadays of the most audacious pretenders to culture and thought, who glory in casting suspicion upon everything. Hence it becomes the duty of all true believers to speak out and testify with calm courage to their own well grounded reliance upon their God. Let others say what they will, be it ours to say of the Lord, "he is our refuge."
But what we say we must prove by our actions, we must fly to the Lord for shelter, and not to an arm of flesh. The bird flies away to the thicket, and the fox hastens to its hole, every creature uses its refuge in the hour of danger. Even so in all peril or fear of peril let us flee unto Jehovah, the Eternal Protector of his own. Let us, when we are secure in the Lord, rejoice that our position is unassailable, for he is our fortress as well as our refuge. No moat, drawbridge, wall, battlement, could make us so secure as we are when the attributes of the Lord Almighty environ us around. Behold this day the Lord is to us instead of walls and bulwarks! Our ramparts defy the leagued hosts of Hell. Foes in flesh, and foes in ghostly guise are alike balked of their prey when the Lord Almighty stands between us and their fury, and all other evil forces are turned aside. Walls cannot keep out the pestilence—but the Lord can.
As if it were not enough to call the Lord his refuge and fortress, he adds, My God! in him will I trust.
Now he can say no more; "my God" means all, and more than all, that heart can conceive by way of security. It was most fit that he should say "in him will I trust", since to deny faith to such a one were willful wickedness and wanton insult. He who dwells in an impregnable fortress, naturally trusts in it; and shall not he who dwells in God feel himself well at ease, and repose his soul in safety?
O that we more fully carried out the psalmist's resolve! We have trusted in God, let us trust him still. He has never failed us, why then should we suspect him? To trust in man is natural to fallen nature—to trust in God should be as natural to regenerated nature. Where there is every reason and warrant for faith, we ought to place our confidence without hesitancy or wavering. Dear reader, pray for grace to say, "In him will I trust."
Verse 3. Surely he shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler.
Assuredly no subtle plot shall succeed against one who has the eyes of God watching for his defense. We are foolish and weak as poor little birds, and are very apt to be lured to our destruction by cunning foes—but if we dwell near to God, he will see to it that the most skillful deceiver shall not entrap us.
"Satan the fowler who betrays
Unguarded souls a thousand ways,"
shall be foiled in the case of the man whose high and honorable condition consists in residence within the holy place of the Most High.
And from the deadly pestilence.
He who is a Spirit can protect us from evil spirits; he who is mysterious can rescue us from mysterious dangers; he who is immortal can redeem its from mortal sickness. There is a deadly pestilence of error, we are safe from that if we dwell in communion with the God of truth. There is a fatal pestilence of sin, we shall not be infected by it if we abide with the thrice Holy One. There is also a pestilence of disease, and even from that calamity our faith shall win immunity if it be of that high order which abides in God, walks on in calm serenity, and ventures all things for duty's sake.
Faith by cheering the heart keeps it free from the fear which, in times of pestilence, kills more than the plague itself. It will not in all cases ward off disease and death—but where the man is such as the first verse describes, it will assuredly render him immortal where others die; if all the saints are not so sheltered it is because they have not all such a close abiding with God, and consequently not such confidence in the promise.
Such special faith is not given to all, for there are diversities in the measure of faith. It is not of all believers that the psalmist sings—but only of those who dwell in the secret place of the Most High. Too many among us are weak in faith, and in fact place more reliance in a pill than in the Lord and giver of life, and if we die of pestilence as others die it is because we acted like others, and did not in patience possess our souls. The great mercy is that in such a case our deaths are blessed, and it is well with us, for we are forever with the Lord. Pestilence to the saints shall not be harmful, but the messenger of Heaven.
Verse 4. He shall cover you with your feathers, and under his wings shall you trust.
A wonderful expression! Had it been invented by an uninspired man it would have verged upon blasphemy, for who would dare to apply such words to the Infinite Jehovah? But as he himself authorized, yes, dictated the language, we have here a transcendent condescension, such as it becomes us to admire and adore. Does the Lord speak of his feathers, as though he likened himself to a bird? Who will not see herein a matchless love, a divine tenderness, which should both woo and win our confidence? Even as a hen covers her chicks so does the Lord protect the souls which dwell in him; let us cower down beneath him for comfort and for safety. Hawks in the sky and snares in the field are equally harmless when we nestle so near the Lord. His truth—his true promise, and his faithfulness to his promise, shall be your shield and buckler.
Double armor has he who relies upon the Lord. He bears a shield and wears an all surrounding coat of mail—such is the force of the word "buckler." To quench fiery darts the truth is a most effectual shield, and to blunt all swords it is an equally effectual coat of mail. Let us go forth to battle thus harnessed for the war, and we shall be safe in the thickest of the fight. It has been so, and so shall it be until we reach the land of peace, and there among the "helmed cherubim and sworded seraphim," we will wear no other ornament, his truth shall still be our shield and buckler.
Verse 5. You shall not be afraid for the terror by night.
Such frail creatures are we that both by night and by day we are in danger, and so sinful are we that in either season we may be readily carried away by fear; the promise before us secures the favorite of Heaven both from danger and from the fear of it.
Night is the congenial hour of horrors, when alarms walk abroad like beasts of prey, or ghouls from among the tombs; our fears turn the sweet season of repose into one of dread, and though angels are abroad and fill our chambers, we dream of demons and dire visitants from Hell. Blessed is that communion with God which renders us impervious to midnight frights, and horrors born of darkness.
Not to be afraid is in itself an unspeakable blessing, since for every suffering which we endure from real injury, we are tormented by a thousand griefs which arise from fear only. The shadow of the Almighty removes all gloom from the shadow of night—once covered by the divine wing, we care not what winged terrors may fly abroad in the earth.
Nor for the arrow that flies by day.
Cunning foes lie in ambush, and aim the deadly shaft at our hearts—but we do not fear them, and have no cause to do so. That arrow is not made which can destroy the righteous, for the Lord has said, "No weapon that is formed against you shall prosper." In times of great danger those who have made the Lord their refuge, and therefore have refused to use the carnal weapon, have been singularly preserved; the annals of the Quakers bear good evidence to this.
Yet probably the main thought is, that from the cowardly attacks of crafty malice those who walk by faith shall be protected, from cunning heresies they shall be preserved, and in sudden temptations they shall be secured from harm. Day has its perils as well as night, arrows more deadly than those poisoned by the Indian are flying noiselessly through the air, and we shall be their victims unless we find both shield and buckler in our God. O believer, dwell under the shadow of the Lord, and none of the archers shall destroy you, they may shoot at you and wound you grievously—but your bow shall abide in strength. When Satan's quiver shall be empty, you shall remain uninjured by his craft and cruelty; yes, his broken darts shall be to you as trophies of the truth and power of the Lord your God.
Verse 6. Nor for the pestilence that walks in darkness.
It is shrouded in mystery as to its cause and cure, it marches on, unseen of men, slaying with hidden weapons, like an enemy stabbing in the dark—yet those who dwell in God are not afraid of it. Nothing is more alarming than the assassin's plot, for he may at any moment steal in upon a man, and lay him low at a stroke; and such is the plague in the days of its power, none can promise themselves freedom from it for an hour in any place in the infected city. It enters a house men know not how, and its very breath is mortal; yet those choice souls who dwell in God shall live above fear in the most plague stricken places—they shall not be afraid of the "plagues which in the darkness walk."
Nor for the destruction that wastes at noonday.
Famine may starve, or bloody war devour, earthquake may overturn and tempest may smite—but amid all, the man who has sought the mercy seat and is sheltered beneath the wings which overshadow it, shall abide in perfect peace. Days of horror and nights of terror are for other men; the godly man's days and nights are alike spent with God, and therefore pass away in sacred quiet. His peace is not a thing of times and seasons, it does not rise and set with the sun, nor does it depend upon the healthiness of the atmosphere or the security of the country.
Upon the child of the Lord's own heart, pestilence has no destroying power, and calamity no wasting influence: pestilence walks in darkness—but he dwells in light; destruction wastes at noonday—but upon him another sun has risen whose beams bring restoration. Remember that the voice which says "you shall not fear" is that of God himself, who hereby pledges his word for the safety of those who abide under his shadow, nay, not for their safety only—but for their serenity. So far shall they be from being injured that they shall not even be made to fear the ills which are around them, since the Lord protects them.
"He, his shadowy plumes outspread.
With his wing shall fence your head;
And his truth around you wield,
Strong as targe or bossy shield!
Naught shall strike you with dismay,
Fear by night, nor shaft by day."
Verse 7. A thousand shall fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand.
So terribly may the plague rage among men that the bills of mortality may become very heavy and continue to grow ten times heavier still—yet shall such as this Psalm speaks of, survive the scythe of death.
It shall not come near you.
It shall be so near as to be at your side, and yet not near enough to touch you; like a fire it shall burn all around—yet shall not the smell of it pass upon you.
How true is this of the plague of moral evil, of heresy, and of backsliding. Whole nations are infected—yet the man who communes with God is not affected by the contagion; he holds the truth when falsehood is all the fashion. Professors all around him are plague smitten, the church is wasted, the very life of religion decays—but in the same place and time, in fellowship with God, the believer renews his youth, and his soul knows no sickness.
In a measure this also is true of physical evil; the Lord still puts a difference between Israel and Egypt in the day of his plagues. Sennacherib's army is blasted—but Jerusalem is in health.
"Our God his chosen people saves
Among the dead, amidst the graves."
Verse 8. Only with your eyes shall you behold and see the punishment of the wicked.
The sight shall reveal both the justice and the mercy of God; in them that perish the severity of God will be manifest. In the believer's escape, the richness of divine goodness will be apparent. Joshua and Caleb verified this promise. The Puritan preachers during the plague of London must have been much impressed with this verse as they came out of their hiding places to proclaim mercy and judgment to the dissolute age which was so sorely visited with the plague.
The sight of God's judgments softens the heart, excites a solemn awe, creates gratitude, and so stirs up the deepest kind of adoration. It is such a sight as none of us would wish to see, and yet if we did see it we might thus be lifted up to the very noblest style of manhood. Let us but watch providence, and we shall find ourselves living in a school where examples of the ultimate reward of sin are very plentiful. One case may not be judged alone lest we misjudge—but instances of divine visitation will be plentiful in the memory of any attentive observer of men and things. From all these put together we may fairly draw conclusions, and unless we shut our eyes to that which is self-evident, we shall soon perceive that there is after all a moral ruler over the sons of men, who sooner or later rewards the ungodly with due punishment.
Verses 9-10. Before expounding these verses I cannot refrain from recording a personal incident illustrating their power to soothe the heart, when they are applied by the Holy Spirit. In the year 1854, when I had scarcely been in London twelve months, the neighborhood in which I labored was visited by Asiatic cholera, and my congregation suffered from its inroads. Family after family summoned me to the bedside of the smitten, and almost every day I was called to visit the grave. I gave myself up with youthful ardor to the visitation of the sick, and was sent for from all corners of the district by persons of all ranks and religions. I became weary in body and sick at heart. My friends seemed falling one by one, and I felt or imagined that I was sickening like those around me. A little more work and weeping would have laid me low among the rest; I felt that my burden was heavier than I could bear, and I was ready to sink under it. As God would have it, I was returning mournfully home from a funeral, when my curiosity led me to read a paper which was wafered up in a shoemaker's window in the Dover Road. It did not look like a trade announcement, nor was it, for it bore in a good bold handwriting these words: Because you have made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, your habitation; there shall no evil befall you, neither shall any plague come near your dwelling.
The effect upon my heart was immediate. Faith appropriated the passage as her own. I felt secure, refreshed, girt with immortality. I went on with my visitation of the dying in a calm and peaceful spirit; I felt no fear of evil, and I suffered no harm. The providence which moved the tradesman to place those verses in his window I gratefully acknowledge, and in the remembrance of its marvelous power I adore the Lord my God.
The psalmist in these verses assures the man who dwells in God that he shall be secure. Though faith claims no merit of its own—yet the Lord rewards it wherever he sees it. He who makes God his refuge shall find him a refuge; he who dwells in God shall find his dwelling protected.
We must make the Lord our habitation by choosing him for our trust and rest, and then we shall receive immunity from harm; no evil shall touch us personally, and no stroke of judgment shall assail our household.
The dwelling here intended by the original was only a tent—yet the frail covering would prove to be a sufficient shelter from harm of all sorts. It matters little whether our abode be a gypsy's hut or a monarch's palace, if the soul has made the Most High its habitation. Get into God and you dwell in all good, and ill is banished far away. It is not because we are perfect or highly esteemed among men that we can hope for shelter in the day of evil—but because our refuge is the Eternal God, and our faith has learned to hide beneath his sheltering wing.
"For this no ill your cause shall daunt,
No scourge your tabernacle haunt."
It is impossible that any ill should happen to the man who is beloved of the Lord; the most crushing calamities can only shorten his journey and hasten him to his reward. Ill to him is no ill—but only good in a mysterious form. Losses enrich him, sickness is his medicine, reproach is his honor, death is his gain. No evil in the strict sense of the word can happen to him, for everything is overruled for good. Happy is he who is in such a case. He is secure where others are in peril, he lives where others die.
Verse 11. For he shall give his angels charge over you.
Not one guardian angel, as some fondly dream—but all the angels are here alluded to. They are the bodyguard of the princes of the blood imperial of Heaven, and they have received commission from their Lord and ours to watch carefully over all the interests of the faithful. When men have a charge they become doubly careful, and therefore the angels are represented as bidden by God himself to see to it that the elect are secured. It is down in the marching orders of the hosts of Heaven that they take special note of the people who dwell in God. It is not to be wondered at that the servants are bidden to be careful of the comfort of their Master's guests; and we may be quite sure that when they are specially charged by the Lord himself they will carefully discharge the duty imposed upon them.
To keep you in all your ways.
To be a bodyguard, a garrison to the body, soul, and spirit of the saint. The limit of this protection "in all your ways" is yet no limit to the heart which is right with God. It is not the way of the believer to go out of his way. He keeps in the way, and then the angels keep him. The protection here promised is exceeding broad as to place, for it refers to all our ways, and what do we wish for more? How angels thus keep us we cannot tell. Whether they repel demons, counteract spiritual plots, or even ward off the more subtle physical forces of disease, we do not know. Perhaps we shall one day stand amazed at the multiplied services which the unseen bands have rendered to us.
Verse 12. They shall bear you up in their hands.
They, that is the angels, God's own angels, shall cheerfully become our servants. As nurses carry little children, with careful love, so shall those glorious spirits bear up each individual believer.
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
Even minor ills they ward off. It is most desirable that we should not stumble—but as the way is rough, it is most gracious on the Lord's part to send his servants to bear us up above the loose pebbles. If we cannot have the way smoothed, it answers every purpose if we have angels to bear us up in their hands. Since the greatest ills may arise out of little accidents, it shows the wisdom of the Lord that from the smaller evils we are protected.
Verse 13. You shall tread upon the lion and adder.
Over force and fraud shall you march victoriously; bold opponents and treacherous adversaries shall alike be trodden down. When our shoes are iron and brass lions and adders are easily enough crushed beneath our heel.
The young lion and the serpent shall you trample under feet.
The strongest foe in power, and the most mysterious in cunning, shall be conquered by the man of God. Not only from stones in the way—but from serpents also, shall we be safe. To men who dwell in God the most evil forces become harmless, they wear a charmed life, and defy the deadliest ills. Their feet come into contact with the worst of foes, even Satan himself nibbles at their heel—but in Christ Jesus they have the assured hope of crushing Satan under their feet shortly. The people of God are the
true lion kings and serpent tamers. Their dominion over the powers of darkness makes them cry, "Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through your word."
Verse 14. Because he has set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him.
Here we have the Lord himself speaking of his own chosen one. Not because he deserves to be thus kept—but because with all his imperfections he does love his God; therefore not the angels of God only—but the God of angels himself will come to his rescue in all perilous times, and will effectually deliver him.
When the heart is enamored with the Lord, all taken up with him, and intensely attached to him, the Lord will recognize the sacred flame, and preserve the man who bears it in his bosom. It is love—love set upon God, which is the distinguishing mark of those whom the Lord secures from ill.
I will set him on high, because he has known my name.
The man has known the attributes of God so as to trust in him, and then by experience has arrived at a yet deeper knowledge, this shall be regarded by the Lord as a pledge of his grace, and he will set the owner of it above danger or fear, where he shall dwell in peace and joy. None abide in intimate fellowship with God unless they possess a warm affection towards God, and an intelligent trust in him. These gifts of grace are precious in Jehovah's eyes, and wherever he sees them he smiles upon them. How elevated is the standing which the Lord gives to the believer. We ought to covet it right earnestly. If we climb on high it may be dangerous—but if God sets us there it is glorious.
Verse 15. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him.
He will have need to pray, he will be led to pray aright and the answer shall surely come. Saints are first called by God and then they call upon God; such calls as theirs always obtain answers. Not without prayer will the blessing come to the most favored—but by means of prayer they shall receive all good things.
I will be with him in trouble.
Or "I am with him in trouble." Heirs of Heaven are conscious of a special divine presence in times of severe trial. God is always near in sympathy and in power to help his tried ones.
I will deliver him, and honor him.
The man honors God, and God honors him. Believers are not delivered or preserved in a way which lowers them, and makes them feel themselves degraded; far from it, the Lord's salvation bestows honor upon those it delivers. God first gives us conquering grace, and then rewards us for it.
Verse 16. With long life will I satisfy him.
The man described in this Psalm fills out the measure of his days, and whether he dies young or old he is quite satisfied with life, and is content to leave it. He shall rise from life's banquet as a man who has had enough, and would not have more even if he could.
And show him my salvation.
The full sight of divine grace shall be his closing vision. He shall look from Amana and Lebanon. Not with destruction before him black as night—but with salvation bright as noonday smiling upon him he shall enter into his rest.