Psalms 42:1-8

We often read this Psalm, because we are very often in the same state that the psalmist was in when he wrote it, and the language seems to suit us at many periods of our life.

Psalms 42:1. As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.

It is the «hart» that panteth; and, in the Hebrew, the word is in the feminine. The old naturalists say that the female has greater thirst than the male, and that it shows it more, having more feebleness of body, and less power of endurance. The hart is said to be, naturally, a thirsty creature, and when it has been long hunted, its thirst seems to be insatiable. The psalmist does not say, «thy soul hungereth,» but, «My soul thirsteth.» As man can bear hunger much longer than he can bear thirst; he may continue without food for days, but not without drink; so the psalmist mentions the most thirsty creature, and the most ardent of the natural passions: «As the hart panteth after the water brooks.» He does not merely say, «after the brooks;» but, «after the water brooks.» Why is this? I think it is because there are many brooks that are dry at certain seasons, and the hart longeth for those that have water in them. So the Christian thirsts, not only for the means of grace; they are the brooks, but he longs for God in the means. When grace is in the means of grace, then they are water brooks indeed. «So panteth my soul after thee O God.» He does not say, «So I pant after my former grandeur,» or «so pant I for my friend,» but «so panteth my heart after thee.» His soul had only one longing, one thirst, and every power and every passion had united itself to that one desire, «so panteth my soul after thee, O God.»

Psalms 42:2. My soul thirsteth for God,

It was a soul thirst, not a throat thirst; the thirst had got as far down as the soul, till the inner spirit was as dry as a man's throat after a long journey through the desert. «My soul thirsteth for God,»

Psalms 42:2. For the living God:

David had thirsted, you remember, for water from the well of Bethlehem that is within the gate, and he said, «Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!» But that was not living water; he had drunk of it before, yet he thirsted again, but now his soul thirsted for God, for the living God. Nothing but the cool refreshing living water of the living God can ever effectually quench human thirst.

Psalms 42:2. When shall I come and appear before God?

He valued the assembly of God's people because he believed that, there in an especial manner, he was «before God.» What a rebuke this is to those who despise public worship! We know some who say, «Well, we can read a good sermon at home, we can study the Scriptures there.» David was a great lover of God's Word, and read it both day and night, yet even he could not dispense with the outward means of grace, the public assembly of the saints. «When shall I come and appear before God?» Brothers and sisters, let us look upon our gatherings for worship as an appearance before God. You do not merely come to listen to the Lord's minister, or to join in the sacred song of the congregation, but you come to «appear before God,» that you may show yourself to him as his servants, and that he may reveal himself to you as your Lord. When you and I have been tossing upon the bed of languishing, or have been detained upon the sea, or have journeyed abroad, then we have learned to prize the means of grace more than ever.

Psalms 42:3. My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?

The psalmist had sorrow within, and persecution without, and a Christian sometimes has to eat salt meat. «My tears have been my meat.» He finds but very little sweetness or solace in such food as this; yet, after all, there is much in a Christian's tears. It is a comfort to be able to shed tears of repentance, and tears of longing after God. There are some believers who still have tears for their meat, yet they can say, «Thank God we are not dead if we can weep, we are not utterly left of God, if we can sigh after him; and so, though our tears are salt, they are nourishing to the spirit.» «My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, «Where is thy God?» This is what our enemies always say to us when we are in trouble. This is what Queen Mary said when the Covenanters were obliged to fly to the Highlands. «Where now is John Knox's God?» But when her French soldiers were afterwards put to the rout by the brave Scots, she found out where God was. This was the taunt at the St. Bartholomew massacre in France. As they stabbed the Protestants the Papists cried, «Where is your God?» What a mercy it is that they do say this, for nothing brings God so soon to his people as the stunts of their enemies. If any man supposes that God has forgotten his people, and therefore insults them thus, God will come to them post-haste to rectify the mistake. «Where is thy God?» He is coming to thee, O Christian; he is near thee now!

Psalms 42:4. When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holy day.

You see, brethren, the more a man enjoys the means of grace at one time, the more he grieves when he loses them. «I had gone with the multitude.» There is something very inspiring in worshipping God in a crowd; the joy is infectious, there is a holy contagion in it; as the sacred song floats upward from many joyous voices, we seem borne up upon its billows of praise. I like that word «holy day» even though it is rather like holiday, for our holy days should be our true holidays. There should be no rest to the Christian like the holiness of the Sabbath, the holiness should be the very joy of it. Keep it a holy day, and then it will be a holiday; try to make it a holiday, and then it will be neither a holiday nor a holy day. At the remembrance of these past joys, the psalmist's soul was poured out like water, his heart was as water spilt upon the ground. See, brethren, how low a good man may come, and yet be safe; how near the rocks God's ships may go, and yet not be wrecked.

Psalms 42:5. Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.

As one well remarks, Christian men have a deal of indoor work to do. They have not only to question others, but they have to question themselves. «Why art thou cast down, O my soul?» Be very jealous, dear friends, of doubts, and fears, and despondency. Some of us are sometimes the subjects of these emotions, and this is pitiable; but when we try to pamper them, this is inexcusable. Endeavour to live above this disquietude; you cannot praise God, you cannot serve your fellow men, you cannot do anything well, when your soul is in a disquieted state. Hope in God is the best cure for this despondency. «Hope thou in God.» When thou hast no hope in thyself, nor in thy graces, nor in thine experience, «hope thou in God.» He is loving, faithful, powerful, and true, so «hope thou in God.» «For I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.» «My countenance is wrinkled, and covered with sores through my sickness; but he is the help of my countenance, and I shall yet praise him.»

Psalms 42:6. O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.

Oh, what a mercy it is to be able to look back upon our past experiences of God's mercy! How delightful it is to remember what the Lord was, to us in days gone by, for he is the same God still. When you are like in the great storm, when neither sun, nor moon, nor stars for many days appeared, it is very pleasant to remember that the sun, moon, and stars did shine in the past, and that they will shine forth again.

Psalms 42:7. Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.

When there is a great rain at sea, there is a peculiar kind of noise, as if the deep above were talking to the deep below. «Deep calleth unto deep; and sometimes, the two deeps clasp hands, and then there is what we call a waterspout. The psalmist uses this as a picture of his sorrows, and it is very remarkable that sorrows seldom come alone. When the rain comes down on land, it calls to the little brooks, and they say, «Here we are,» and they go leaping down the hillside, and speak to the rivulets, and they say, «Here we are,» and the rivulets speak to the rivers, and they say, «Here we are,» and they speak to the gulfs, and the gulfs to the broad sea, till «deep calleth unto deep.» So, little sorrows, great sorrows, overwhelming sorrows, come to the Christian, and they all seem to come at once. Nay, not only do they come to us, but they go over us, till we cry, «All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.» Surely, this language is an exaggeration, for it is only Christ who could say that; but, sometimes, when you and I are in a low dark frame of mind, we are apt to think that we have felt all the twigs of the rod, and that we could not be made to smart more. Little do we really know of it; God grant that we may never know more than we do! Now comes an exercise for faith, to be able, when down at the bottom of the sea, like Jonah, and at the mercy of every wave, to say with the psalmist in the next verse,

Psalms 42:8. Yet the LORD will command his lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.

We shall not only have day-time grace, but night-time grace, too: «In the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.» What a sweet title that is, «The God of my life,» the source of my life, the strength of my life, the comfort of my life, without whom my life is not life at all!

Psalms 42:9. I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me?

He had been talking too much to himself; now he talks with his God.

Psalms 42:9. Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me; while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God? Why art thou cast down, O my soul and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him who is the health of my countenance, and my God.

Notice how the psalmist had been growing. In the fifth verse, where the refrain comes in, it is very nearly the same as it is here, yet there is some difference. There it was, «I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance,» but here it is, «I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance.» Then it was God helping the poor wrinkled brow to turn towards heaven, now it is God himself giving the man joy and rest. Then there is the last utterance of the psalmist on that occasion, «My God.» He could not reach that note before, and when the Christian can say, «My God,» his troubles are at an end.