Psalms 62:5-6

Truly my soul waiteth upon God. .. My soul, wait thou only upon God.

Silence to God

These clauses correspond: the “truly” of the first is the same word as the “only” of the second, and in each it stands at the beginning. Literally the words are, “My soul is silence unto God.” His whole being was one great stillness before God. This silence is--

1. Of the will. Resignation is its characteristic; is a silent will. Such will strong: it is no feeble passiveness.

2. Of the heart.

3. Of the mind. How we need to be still and let God speak. The second clause is an exhortation to the psalmist’s own soul, and such self-exhortation, if not the affirmation of the first clause, we can make our own. There must be conscious effort and self-encouragement would we preserve the highest religious emotion. As the constant wash of the sea undermines the cliffs and wastes the coasts, so do the wear and tear of daily occupation act upon and wear away the higher emotions of our religious life. Therefore stir up your soul to wait only upon God. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

I shall not be greatly moved.--

The upgrade of faith

(with Psalms 62:6):--

I. The psalmist has already attained to a good degree in the school of faith. “I shall not be greatly moved.” And how did he attain to this degree?

1. He began by waiting upon God. “Only to God is my soul silenced” is the original, and it is expressive in that form, is it not? I have no one else in view, I am listening to God alone; my soul has ears, and they are open to hear what He will say unto me, for He will speak peace unto His people. This is the right attitude.

2. Having begun by waiting silently upon God, the psalmist soon enjoyed the realization of His power, His grace, His interest. “He only is my rock.” That metaphor means more than we imagine. David knew what rocks were, the use and purpose and comfort of them. What the hills and the rocks were to the conies, that the caves and dens of the earth had been to the hunted king, and that God was to him in all his soul’s perplexities. He further calls Him his salvation, adding this to the metaphor that he had already employed, as much as to say, “It is not mere metaphor. This is song, but it is not mere song; it is poetry, but it is practical for all that. God has been to me as this rock of my salvation, a Rock of Ages, a cleft rock, in which I have been secure.” Further, he says, “He is my defence,” a high tower, a lordly castle; something even better than the caves of the earth, though they served David’s purpose well enough when occasion demanded. But God is to us the best of the best, the noblest of the noble; a tower, but a high tower as well as a strong tower, not merely a rock-hewn shelter, but a lordly castle, behind whose bulwarks we are not only safe but happy.

3. This produces firm confidence. “I shall not be greatly moved.” The compass trembles and wavers and vacillates, but it trembles back to the pole; it is not greatly moved. I may fall, but I shall rise again. If I am perplexed I am not in despair. If I am cast down I am not, and shall not be, distressed. With such a rock--for who is a rock like unto our God?--may we not with confidence say, “I shall not be greatly moved.”

II. He has made immense progress (Psalms 62:6). “I shall not be moved.” That is not so long a sentence as the other, but if it is not as long it is as strong, and stronger, and I prefer strength to length. The omission of that word greatly marks a growing faith, and makes a world of difference. “I shall not be moved.” There is no qualifying adverb; it is absolute. “I shall not be moved in the least degree, not an inch, not a hair’s breadth. I shall not be moved at any time, while I live, nor when I come to die, nor when I stand before the judgment seat. I shall not be moved.” You see there is no qualification whatever. Do you wish you could get to this? Notice how swift the growth has been. I believe that the psalmist was just speaking his actual experience, and it could have taken only a minute or so to say the intervening words. Ah, but God’s plants grow quickly. The lilies of the Lord spring up in an hour or so, when He shines upon the seed and waters it with His grace. But how can we account for this growth? First on the ground that real faith is vital. It is bound to grow. It has the life of God, it is the germ Divine, and just as in the hands of the mummy the wheat, and peas have lain three thousand years, but when brought forth to light and planted in the ground they spring to beauty, their life being in them all the time, so faith cannot be destroyed. It is God’s own life; it is bound to live and conquer. Moreover, faith rises to occasion. It is like the stormy petrel that delights in the breeze, and is never so happy as when the storm is strongest. Moreover, it grows by exercise. The more faith is acted upon, the more active it is. Now let me say that nothing short of this should suffice any one of us. I know that half a loaf is better than no bread. I know that a feeble faith is infinitely to be preferred to none at all, but on that same line of argument you may well declare that such a faith as this we have been speaking of is greatly to be preferred to that we thought of at the first. Why should we be content with small measure when God will give it to us heaped up, pressed down, and running over? (Thomas Spurgeon.)