John Calvin Commentary Psalms 143

Hear my prayer, O Jehovah! It is evident that the oppression of his enemies must have been extreme when David laments his case in such earnest and pathetic terms. The introductory words show that the grief he felt was great.

We have shown elsewhere his reason for speaking of God's justice and faithfulness in this connection. Under the term justice, or righteousness, we are not to suppose that he speaks of merit or reward, as some ignorantly imagine, but of that goodness of God which leads him to defend his people. To the same effect, he speaks of God’s truth or faithfulness; for the best proof he can give of his faithfulness is in not forsaking those whom he has promised to help. In helping his people, he shows himself to be a just and true God, both by not frustrating their expectation and insofar as he shows in this extension of mercy what his nature is. For this reason, David very properly encourages himself in prayer by making mention of both.

And enter not into judgment. I have hinted already why he proceeds to pray for pardon. When overtaken by adversity, we are always to conclude that it is a rod of correction sent by God to stir us up to pray. Although he is far from taking pleasure in our trials, it is certain that our sins are the cause of his dealing towards us with this severity.

While those to whom David was opposed were wicked men, and he was perfectly conscious of the rectitude of his cause as regarded them, he freely acknowledged his sin before God as a condemned suppliant. We are to hold this as a general rule in seeking to conciliate God, that we must pray for the pardon of our sins.

If David found refuge nowhere else than in prayer for pardon, who is there among us who would presume to come before God trusting in his own righteousness and integrity? Nor does David here merely set an example before God’s people how they ought to pray, but declares that there is no one among men who could be just before God if he were called to plead his cause.

The passage is one fraught with much instruction, teaching us, as I have just hinted, that God can only show favor to us in our approaches by throwing aside the character of a judge, and reconciling us to himself in a gratuitous remission of our sins. All human righteousnesses, accordingly, go for nothing when we come to his tribunal.

This is a truth that is universally acknowledged in words, but very few are seriously impressed with it. As there is an indulgence that is mutually extended to one another among men, they all come confidently before God for judgment, as if it were as easy to satisfy him as to gain man’s approval.

In order to obtain a proper view of the whole matter, we are first to note what is meant by being justified. The passage before us clearly proves that the man who is justified is he who is judged and reckoned just before God, or whom the heavenly Judge himself acquits as innocent.

Now, in denying that any among men can claim this innocence, David intimates that any righteousness the saints possess is not perfect enough to withstand God’s scrutiny, and thus he declares that all are guilty before God and can only be absolved by acknowledging they might justly be condemned.

Had perfection been a thing to be found in the world, he certainly, more than any other, was the man who might justly have boasted of it; and the righteousness of Abraham and the holy fathers was not unknown to him. But he spares neither them nor himself, but lays it down as the one universal rule of conciliating God: that we must cast ourselves upon his mercy.

This may give us some idea of the satanic infatuation that has taken hold of those who speak so much of perfection in holiness, with a view to supersede remission of sins. Such a degree of pride could never be evinced by them, were they not secretly influenced by a brutish contempt of God.

They speak in high and magnificent terms of regeneration, as if the whole kingdom of Christ consisted in purity of life. But in doing away with the principal blessing of the everlasting covenant—gratuitous reconciliation—which God’s people are commanded to seek daily, and in puffing up both themselves and others with a vain pride, they show what spirit they are of.

Let us hold them in detestation, since they do not scruple to show open contempt for God. This by itself, however, which we have stated, is not enough; for the Papists themselves acknowledge that if God were to enter upon an examination of men’s lives as a judge, all would be liable to just condemnation.

And in this respect they are sounder, more moderate, and sober than those Cyclopses and monsters in heresy of whom we have just spoken. But though not arrogating to themselves righteousness in its whole extent, they show, by obtruding their merits and satisfactions, that they are very far from following the example of David.

They are always ready to acknowledge some defect in their works, and so, in seeking God’s favor, they plead for the assistance of his mercy. But there is nothing intermediate between these two things, which are represented in Scripture as opposites—being justified by faith and justified by works.

It is absurd for the Papists to invent a third kind of righteousness, which is partly worked out by their own works and partly imputed to them by God in his mercy. Undoubtedly, when he affirmed that no man could stand before God if his works were brought to judgment, David had no idea of this complex or twofold righteousness, but would at once confine us to the conclusion that God is favorable only on the ground of his mercy, since any reputed righteousness of man has no significance before him.

For the enemy hath persecuted my soul. Having acknowledged that he only suffered the just punishment of his sins, David now comes to speak of his enemies; for speaking of them first would have been a preposterous order.

Their cruelty was shown in their not resting satisfied except with the destruction of one who was a saint of God; he declares that he must perish even now unless God helps him quickly.

The comparison is not merely to a dead man, but to a putrid corpse; for by the dead of an age are meant those who have been long removed from the world.

Such language intimates that he not only trusted in God as the one who could heal him of a deadly disease, but also considered that even though his life should be buried, as it were, and long out of mind, God could raise it again, and restore his very ashes.

And my spirit, etc. Until now he has spoken of the external troubles; now he acknowledges the feebleness of his spirits, from which it is evident that his strength was not like that of the rock, imperturbable or without feeling. Instead, while overwhelmed with grief according to natural human feeling, he owed his support entirely to faith and the grace of the Spirit. We are taught by his example not to give up the conflict in despair, however much we may be weakened and even exhausted by afflictions, as God will enable us to surmount them, if we only rise to Him with our hearts amidst all our anxieties.

In the next verse, David mentions that he had diligently sought means by which to mitigate his grief. It is no wonder that many who spontaneously give themselves up to inaction sink under their trials, not using means to invigorate themselves by calling to remembrance the grace of God.

Sometimes, it is true, our trials are only more keenly felt when we recall the former kindness God may have shown us, the comparison tending to awaken our feelings and render them more acute. However, David proposed a different purpose for himself and gathered confidence from the past mercies of God.

The very best method to obtain relief in trouble, when we are about to faint under it, is to call to mind the former loving-kindness of the Lord. Nor does David mean only what he had experienced from childhood, as some have thought, adopting in my judgment too restricted a sense, for the word קדם, kedem, has a more extensive meaning.

I have no doubt, therefore, that he includes past history as well as his own personal experience, as it is easy to discover proofs there of God’s continued goodness to His people. We ourselves should learn by his example, in reflecting upon personal favors received from God, to remember also how often He has assisted those that served Him, and apply this truth for our own benefit.

Even if this does not immediately abate the bitterness of our grief, its advantage will appear later. In the passage before us, David complains that he did not get relief from his anxieties and cares from this consolatory source, but he pursued his meditations in expectation of finding the good result in due time.

The verb שוה, suach, I have elsewhere observed, may mean either to declare with the tongue or to revolve in the mind. Some accordingly read: “I have discoursed of Your works.” But as the verb הגה, hagah, means to meditate, I consider that the Psalmist repeats the same thing twice, and this as a sign of earnestness. Often, when we only briefly reflect on God’s works, we turn away from them almost immediately, nor is it surprising that, in this case, no solid comfort results. For our knowledge to be abiding, we must engage in constant attention.

I have stretched forth my hands to thee. Here appears the good effect of meditation, that it stirred David up to pray; for if we reflect seriously upon the actions of God towards his people, and towards ourselves in our own experience, this will necessarily lead out our minds to seek after him, under the alluring influence of his goodness.

Prayer, indeed, springs from faith; but as practical proofs of the favor and mercy confirm this faith, they are means evidently fitted for dissipating languor. He makes use of a striking figure to set forth the ardor of his affection, comparing his soul to the parched earth. In great heats we see that the earth is cleft, and opens, as it were, its mouth to heaven for moisture.

David therefore intimates, he drew near to God with vehement desire, as if the very sap of life failed him, as he shows more fully in the verse which follows. In this he gives another proof of his extraordinary faith. Feeling himself weak, and ready to sink into the very grave, he does not vacillate between this and the other hope of relief, but fixes his sole dependence upon God.

And heavy as the struggle was that he underwent with his own felt weakness, the fainting of spirit he speaks of was a better stimulant to prayer than any stoical obstinacy he might have shown in suppressing fear, grief, or anxiety. We must not overlook the fact: how, in order to induce himself to depend exclusively upon God, he dismisses all other hopes from his mind, and makes a chariot to himself of the extreme necessity of his case, in which he ascends upwards to God.