Psalms 39:1-11

To the chief Musician, even to Jeduthun, A Psalm of David. David dedicated some Psalms to Asaph, and one or two to Jeduthun. Some of this chief musician's family appear to have remained singers as late as the time of Nehemiah. It is a great honour to be a singer in the house of God. Ungodly men have no right to lead the psalmody; only redeemed lives can sing aright the song of redemption. I reckon that it is almost as wrong to have an unconverted person to lead the singing as it would be to have an unconverted man to preach the Gospel. David was in a great heat of spirit, and much tried, when he wrote this Psalm. There is little that is cheerful in it, yet there is much that may cheer us, Sometimes, when we are unusually thoughtful, we are more likely to be blessed than at other times. Specific gravity is better than specific levity; there are some who have a great deal of the latter quality.

Psalms 39:1. I said,

«I thought it, and at last I said it. I resolved; I determined upon it; and I registered the vow.»

Psalms 39:1. I will take heed to my ways,

Men never go right by accident, he who is heedless is graceless. A holy life is a life that comes of taking heed.

Psalms 39:1. That I sin not with my tongue:

He who keeps his tongue can keep all the rest of his body. The tongue is the helm of the ship, and if that be well managed, the ship will be steered aright. How many sins of the tongue there are, proud words, false words, trifling words, unclean words! I cannot mention the whole list. The tongue is the best thing in the world or the worst thing, according to how it is savoured.

Psalms 39:1. I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me.

«I may feel free when I am with God's people; then I may wear my heart upon my sleeve, for there are no claws to peck at it. But when I am with the wicked, I must not cast my pearls before swine. I must be careful what I say, for they will be sure to misunderstand and misrepresent me.»

Psalms 39:2. I was dumb with silence,

Ah, me! How often we do wrong even when we try to do right! He tried not to sin with his tongue, so he was silent, but silence itself may be a sin of the tongue. God forgive our idle silence, and silence our idle words! I do not think we often sin this way; but silence may sometimes be more wicked than speech even though at other times speech is silvern and silence is golden. If silence is sometimes better than speech, it may also be worse. So poor David, like a pendulum, swings first this way and then the other way. Yet he went too far in the silent direction.

Psalms 39:2. I held my peace, even from good;

Which he should not have done. A dumb sorrow is a heavy sorrow.

Psalms 39:2. And my sorrow was stirred.

Or «troubled.» Water, while it is quiet, may look clear, the sediment lies still at the bottom; but if you stir it, you see all there is in it. So is it with sorrow; when it is stirred, you find its bitterness.

Psalms 39:3. My heart was hot within me,

The fire was kept in his heart; it was not allowed space to break forth, so his heart was hot as an oven.

Psalms 39:3. While I was musing the fire burned:

He grew so hot with grief, that he was compelled to speak.

Psalms 39:3. Then spake I with my tongue,

I am not sure that he did not sin then. We sin if we are silent, and we sin if we speak, for we are such sinful creatures. It would have been better perhaps, if David had said, «Lord, help me to take heed to my ways, and rule thou over my tongue, «for as it was, you see, he could not manage his tongue. He was either too fast or too slow. However, this time he spake well, for he spoke to God. More talk to God and less chat to men, and we should be wiser and better.

Psalms 39:4. Lord, make me to know mine end,

It is greatly wise for us to be familiar with our last hours. There is much to be discovered in the shroud, the mattock, and the spade.

Psalms 39:4. And the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.

A bubble is more substantial than I am, a little handful of dust, easily blown to the wind, rather an appearance than a reality. Ah, me! little do we know, any of us, how frail we are.

Psalms 39:5. Behold thou hast made my days as an handbreadth;

How short is our life! It is just a span, and no more,

Psalms 39:5. And mine age is as nothing before thee:

What multitudes of generations of men have come and gone! An angel might have cried, long before, «Man is but a thing of yesterday compared with the eternal God.» God created the first star that twinkled out of the primeval darkness. «The everlasting hills,» as we call them, are but infants of a day compared to him; therefore, man may truly say, «Mine age is as nothing before thee.»

Psalms 39:5. Verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.

The best man is only man at the best, and when he is at his best, he is nothing but vanity. It is strange that he should get vain of his best state, when his best is only vanity.

Psalms 39:6. Surely every man walketh in a vain show:

He is a shadow walking among shadows.

Psalms 39:6. Surely they are disquieted in vain:

They fret and fume about nothing.

Psalms 39:6. He heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.

He is busy with a rake, but another will be busy with a fork. What the miser gathers the spendthrift scatters.

Psalms 39:7. And now, Lord, what wait I for?

«Do I wait to gather riches for another to squander? Do I wait to worry myself? Do I wait here to walk as a vanity in the midst of vanities? No, Lord, I am waiting for something better than that!»

Psalms 39:7. My hope is in thee.

Here the psalmist steps off the sand, and puts his foot on the rock. Happy is the man who can say to the Lord, «My hope is in thee.»

Psalms 39:8. Deliver me from all my transgressions:

When he gets near to God, he sees himself to be a sinner.

Psalms 39:8. Make me not the reproach of the foolish. I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it.

That is fine silence when a man will not complain because his affliction comes from the hand of God. There is something better even than that when a man breaks the silence, and begins to praise God under the rod. A mute Christian smarting under the rod is a wonder of grace; but a singing Christian under a cutting stroke is a still greater miracle of mercy. Such ought all Christians to be.

Psalms 39:10. Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.

When God smites, he never plays at chastisement, and there are times when his blows are very heavy, and then the smitten one cries out, «Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.»

Psalms 39:11. When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth:

Stout, he is reduced to a shadow, comely and beautiful he is wrinkled, and looks like a skeleton, joyful and blithe, he ends his day in mourning. Ah, dear friends, we who have joy, and calm, and peace, ought to be very grateful! Praise God while you can, for it may be that a dark night will follow the bright day. Oh, for grace to praise God then! That is the best of music that comes from God's nightingales. Music by night is music indeed. But when God corrects men, how soon he takes them down!

Psalms 39:11. Surely every man is vanity. Selah. Hear my prayer, O LORD,

«If I cannot do anything else, I can pray, and I will pray.» That is the best relief that mourners have: «Hear my prayer, O Lord.»

Psalms 39:12. And give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears:

«Do not see me weeping, and yet refuse me comfort and relief. Do not, I pray thee, hear my cry, and yet turn thy back upon me.»

Psalms 39:12. For I am a stranger with thee,

Notice, not a stranger to thee, but, «a stranger with thee. Thou art a stranger in thine own world, and I also am a stranger here.» Men will not entertain the King, for they know him not; therefore,

«Tis no surprising thing,

That we should be unknown:

The Jewish world knew not their King

God's everlasting Son.»

«I am a stranger with thee.» There is a sweet familiarity about this expression, as if the psalmist said, «Lord, I am not at home, I am a stranger here; and thou, too, art a stranger; men will not acknowledge thee. Therefore, Lord, sympathize with me. Hold not thy peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee.»

Psalms 39:12. And a sojourner, as all my fathers were.

«Thou art my Host; I am thy guest; thou dost entertain me. Lord, look at my tears! When the good man entertains a stranger, then he is kind, he pours oil and wine into his wounds. Lord, do so with me, thou art the Good Samaritan, and I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, a temporary guest with thee in this world, as all my fathers were.»

Psalms 39:13. O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.

There is much sweet comfort here, though the Psalm reads like a dirge, rather than a hymn. God give us, if we are obliged to sing such words as these, to sing them with a full belief that the Lord will hear us, and will bless our trials to us, and make them work our lasting good!