Psalms 68 - James Nisbet's Church Pulpit Commentary

A HYMN OF TRIUMPH

‘Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove: that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold.’

Psalms 68:13 (Prayer Book Version)

This psalm is a hymn of glorious triumph. It was probably composed for and used on an occasion of great national thanksgiving in the history of the children of Israel. Throughout the whole of it, it is a most soul-stirring poem to any one who has a soul to be stirred. Every verse of it breathes of victory on the battlefield, and triumph, and thankful hearts rejoicing. The central thought of this particular verse is clearly a contrast between some kind of humiliation on the one hand, referred to by the ‘lien among the pots’; some kind of exaltation on the other, referred to by the expression, ‘having the wings of a dove: that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold.’ That is clearly the central thought, but the figure in which the thought is conveyed has proved to almost every one who has tried to interpret it a most perplexing problem (see Illustration).

I. The Christian and his surroundings.—If a man is a true Christian he may maintain, if he wants to maintain, in the midst of the most unfavourable surroundings in which it is possible for his life to be cast, a distinctly lovely, loyal, and holy Christian life. Many Christians have their lot in life amongst surroundings which, so far from being helpful to the development of Christian character, are distinctly unpropitious and adverse to it. The point is this—these surroundings, if we have the Christian heart and the Christian will, and the Christian grace, need not destroy the Christian life. Every true Christian is like a lily among thorns. The tendency of the thorn is to choke the lily’s growth and to stifle its life; but, as a matter of fact, it need not do either. It is just so with the true believer. Grace can live anywhere, only you must take care it is grace; formalism cannot, the first prick of the first thorn will kill it. God’s work can live in any surroundings, only you must take care that it is God’s work. This is true both of business and of social life.

(a) First of all, it is true of business life. Men often say: ‘I never can be a Christian whilst I am in this kind of business.’ My reply is: ‘So much the worse for the business.’ ‘I cannot help it; you do not know what the business is.’ But why not? There is an idea prevalent among some people, chiefly among those who have no particular desire to serve the Lord, that there are some businesses in which a man cannot really serve Christ, and he must either give up his business and his line of life, or his Christianity and his religion. But though you may have lien among the pots in the shop, or the wharf, or the works, or the school, or the kitchen, or the warehouse, in the most uncongenial and unpromising business you can possibly think of, you may have, if you want to have—that is the point—a soul as clear as the dove’s wing. It is a beautiful sight to see men, as I have seen them, spend the day where selfishness, and greed, and wickedness were the prominent, the powerful, the ever-present surroundings, and yet in their simple, personal, private, domestic, family, and business life be like the ‘wings of a dove, that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold.’

(b) It is true also of social life. The surroundings, I suppose, of many of our social lives are often very different from what, if we had arranged them ourselves, perhaps we should have appointed. They are often distinctly out of sympathy with true godliness and personal religion, and I want to say to any young dear soul here who is thinking of becoming a true Christian, ‘You must be prepared for that, my boy, if you want to serve the Lord.’ The code of the society in which you have to live will not be a very high one, and you will say: ‘It is hard to shine for Christ in the midst of this.’ But the true believer is never transformed by his surroundings; he tries to transform them, and, if he cannot, he tries to live above them, and whilst moving in a society with which he has little sympathy he does not bow to its contemptible standards, does not lose the fervour of his own youthful fervent godliness, but lifts them up to a standard which he tries so earnestly to illustrate in his own life. It is the power of the love of Christ alone which can make you do this; it is the power of the grace of God in your hearts and lives that can enable you to do this in the midst of this brazen-faced age. A close-walking Christian often lives among the worst of men, but by the grace of God he remains a close-walking Christian still. And God’s grace and power are glorified in you and me, are glorified in those whose Christian loyalty, and standard, and discipleship are not weakened or impaired by the adverse surroundings in which God Almighty has been pleased to put them. You must try to think of two things. The first is this—the things that are impossible with man are possible with God; and, secondly, the true believer who holds by simple faith, in church and out of the church, who holds by simple faith to Jesus Christ, and draws all his strength from an invisible Christ, can say, ‘I can do all things through Him that strengtheneth me.’

II. Living in the sunlight.—And there is one further thought, a very brief one, and the last. It is this—it is in the sunlight that the wings of the dove show a silver and golden colour; in no other light. It is only in the transfiguring presence of the Lord Jesus Christ that the believer can shine, living with Him in daily life, living always in His presence, and never leaving it. Oh, dear brethren! may that be your life and mine, and then, though we have all lien among the pots, yet we shall be as the wings of a dove: that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold.

—Rev. Canon Allen Edwards.

Illustration

‘Dr. Thomson, the celebrated Eastern traveller, who in his day, not so very distant or remote, knew more of the manners and customs of Oriental countries than perhaps any other living person, acknowledged himself in his book to be absolutely nonplussed and completely unable to discover any connection of a reasonable kind or character between these two figures. Some years ago, however, Miss Whately, a daughter of the great Archbishop of Dublin, was travelling in Egypt, and she noticed something which she thought might perhaps have suggested this figure to the Psalmist, and in her most deeply interesting book, entitled Ragged Life in Egypt, describes what she saw. She says, speaking of the flat roofs of the houses in Egypt, that in the houses of the very poor these flat roofs were usually in a state of the greatest filth, from the fact that they were made the convenient receptacles of the rubbish of the house. She says these places, both for their warmth at night and their shade and shelter by day, are the resort of tame pigeons and doves who sleep there in the heat of the day. In the cool of the evening, however, these doves emerge from behind the rubbish, and pots, and broken earthenware, and, shaking off the dirt and dust, in the midst of which they have spent their happy day, fly upwards. Their outstretched wings as they catch the evening sun look as clear and as bright as silver—as if they had never been in contact with dirt or dust at all. She says that when she saw that, which she did so often, she at once thought it might be that which gave the Psalmist the idea of lying amongst the pots, dirty, dusty, and defiled, and yet having the wings of a dove, without any dust or dirt, and with no defilement, and shining like silver and gold. If so, what a picture of the possibility of our Christian life! You see the believer living in the world but not of it, surrounded on every side by contamination and degrading influences, but untouched by any, living and moving amongst that which hurts and seems as if it must hurt, and spoils and seems as if it must spoil, and damages and seems as if it must damage the Christian life; but for all that the Christian life is not hurt, not spoiled, not damaged, not defiled. A dove often has to hide itself, and a tame pigeon often has to hide itself in an unlovely retreat, and yet when it darts out it shines in the glorious sunlight in unsullied beauty. If that is the Psalmist’s meaning, how easy to apply it to our hearts and minds!’

DIVINE STRENGTH

‘Thy God hath sent forth strength for thee.’

Psalms 68:28 (Prayer Book Version)

What is it that every one of us complains of so frequently in our spiritual life? Is it not our own want of power, our own weakness? We look into our life and see how much there is in it which should be different. We feel the need of listening to that word which is spoken to us so continually by the still small voice of God whispering in our hearts and consciences, ‘Friend, go up higher.’ And yet we say that, notwithstanding our effort and intention, our condition remains what it was. True, we do inherit from Adam the taint of sin, but what then?

I. A new life has been given to us.—We have not only been born of our parents, but we have been born again of water and the Holy Ghost. Being by nature born in sin and the children of wrath, we are by Baptism made the children of grace. The children of grace receive, then and there, from Almighty God grace by that new birth, grace by the gift of the Holy Spirit, a grace which enables each one of us to say as St. Paul said: ‘I can—notwithstanding my weakness and my imperfection—I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ ‘I cannot,’ finds no place in the Christian’s vocabulary. ‘I will not’—alas! too often we meet with that, not only in others, but in ourselves. But ‘I cannot’ has no existence for a Christian. ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ And mark it well—‘all things.’ We most of us think we can overcome certain propensities in our nature. We know, thank God, that we have been able to make some progress in spiritual things, but then there is that particular sin which does so easily beset us. That is an evil which we cannot eradicate. There is the word again, ‘cannot.’ ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ And see what St. Paul had to go through in his ‘all things,’ see how he had to suffer. Look at the description he gives of the toils, and troubles, and miseries that befell him. Yet he triumphed over them all, and he is a saint in the heavenly Jerusalem, rejoicing in the full sunshine of the Presence of the Most High. You and I are to be the same.

II. The grace by which we are enabled to do all things through Christ.—This grace is given to us in full measure, given to us, as we have seen, at the very threshold of our life, ere yet we know good from harm. As tender innocents, Christ takes us in His arms, signs us with the sign of His grace, washes us in the water of Baptism, and puts upon us the robe of righteousness. Nor is that only so, but as soon as we have come to years of discretion, as we are feeling the great struggle of life, there is more grace. There is that special rite of God’s Church, which we call by the very title of strengthening, for Confirmation is, as you know, nothing but strengthening, making firm and strong. And that is the special gift given by the Holy Ghost, and day by day, if we will, that same Holy Spirit is granted to us, giving us the grace that we need to do all things. Do we need a right judgment? To whom shall we appeal but to that same Holy Spirit? Do we need purity? To whom shall we appeal save to that Blessed Spirit? ‘Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of Thy Holy Spirit.’ Do we need that most excellent gift of charity? ‘Send Thy Holy Ghost, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of charity.’ Yes, ever and always, we must approach the Holy Spirit, and plead with Him for this grace, this strength which He gives us. We must ask for God’s Holy Spirit. ‘Take not Thy Holy Spirit from us, establish us with Thy free Spirit’—this must be the appeal of our heart, ever and always, and we shall find how true it is: ‘Thy God hath sent forth strength for thee.’

III. ‘Thy God’—mark the words of the Psalmist—‘Thy God hath sent forth strength for thee.’ It is the personal God coming to each individual with just that strength which is absolutely needful for its spiritual welfare, and without which that soul cannot make progress. So for you and for me, depend upon it, there is no excuse that we cannot do this or that. ‘I can do all things.’

—Rev. Canon R. R. Bristow.