John Calvin Commentary Psalms 42

As the hart cries for the fountains of water, etc. The meaning of these two verses simply is that David preferred, above all the enjoyments, riches, pleasures, and honors of this world, the opportunity of access to the sanctuary, so that in this way he might cherish and strengthen his faith and piety by the exercises prescribed in the Law.

When he says that he cried for the living God, we are not to understand it merely in the sense of a burning love and desire towards God. Instead, we should remember how God allures us to Himself and by what means He raises our minds upward.

He does not instruct us to ascend immediately into heaven; rather, considering our weakness, He descends to us. David, then, realizing that the way of access was shut against him, cried to God because he was excluded from the outward service of the sanctuary, which is the sacred bond of communion with God.

I do not mean to say that the observance of external ceremonies can, by itself, bring us into favor with God. However, they are religious exercises that we cannot endure being without because of our weakness. David, therefore, being excluded from the sanctuary, is no less grieved than if he had been separated from God Himself.

It is true that he did not, in the meantime, cease to direct his prayers towards heaven, and even to the sanctuary itself. However, conscious of his own weakness, he was especially grieved that the way by which the faithful obtained access to God was shut against him.

This is an example that may well suffice to put to shame the arrogance of those who, without concern, can tolerate being deprived of these means—or rather, who proudly despise them, as if it were in their power to ascend to heaven in a moment’s flight, indeed, as if they surpassed David in zeal and eagerness of mind.

We must not, however, imagine that the prophet allowed himself to rest in earthly elements. Instead, he only used them as a ladder by which he might ascend to God, finding that he did not have wings with which to fly there.

The analogy he draws from a hart is designed to express the extreme intensity of his desire. Some explain this by saying that harts eagerly seek water to recover from fatigue, but this interpretation is perhaps too limited. I admit that if a hunter pursues a stag, and dogs also closely follow it, when it comes to a river, it gathers new strength by plunging into it. However, we also know that at certain times of the year, harts seek water with an almost incredible desire, one more intense than could arise from mere thirst. Although I would not argue strongly for it, I think this is what the prophet refers to here.

The second verse illustrates more clearly what I have already said: David does not simply speak of the presence of God, but of God’s presence in connection with certain symbols. For he sets before himself the tabernacle, the altar, the sacrifices, and other ceremonies by which God had testified that He would be near His people, and that it was necessary for the faithful, in seeking to approach God, to begin with these things.

This does not mean that they should remain attached to them, but rather that, with the help of these signs and outward means, they should seek to behold the glory of God, which in itself is hidden from sight. Accordingly, when we see the marks of the divine presence engraved on the Word or on external symbols, we can say with David that there is the face of God, provided we come with pure hearts to seek Him in a spiritual manner.

But when we imagine God to be present in any way other than how He has revealed Himself in His Word and the sacred institutions of His worship, or when we form any gross or earthly conception of His heavenly majesty, we are only inventing for ourselves visionary representations that disfigure the glory of God and turn His truth into a lie.

My tears have been my bread. Here the Psalmist mentions another sharp, piercing shaft with which the wicked and malevolent grievously wounded his heart. There can be no doubt that Satan used such means as these to fan the flame that consumed him with grief. “What,” we may suppose that adversary to say, “would you have?

Do you not see that God has cast you off? For certainly He desires to be worshipped in the tabernacle, to which you now have no opportunity of access, and from which you are, as it were, banished.” These were violent assaults, and enough to have overturned the faith of this holy man, unless supported by the power of the Spirit in a more than ordinary degree, he had made strong and vigorous resistance.

It is evident that his feelings had been really and strongly affected. We may often be agitated, yet not to such an extent as to abstain from eating and drinking.

But when a man voluntarily abstains from food and indulges so much in weeping that he daily neglects his ordinary meals and is continually overwhelmed by sorrow, it is obvious that he is troubled to no light degree, but that he is wounded severely, even to the heart.

Now, David says that he did not experience greater relief in anything whatever than from weeping. Therefore, he gave himself up to it, just as men take pleasure and enjoyment in eating. And this, he says, had been the case every day, and not only for a short time.

Let us, therefore, whenever the ungodly triumph over us in our miseries and spitefully taunt us that God is against us, never forget that it is Satan who moves them to speak in this manner, in order to overthrow our faith.

And therefore, it is not time for us to take our ease or to yield to indifference when a war so dangerous is waged against us.

There is still another reason which ought to inspire us with such feelings, and it is this: that the name of God is held up to scorn by the ungodly, for they cannot scoff at our faith without greatly reproaching Him. If, then, we are not altogether insensible, we must in such circumstances be affected with the deepest sorrow.

When I remember these things. This verse is somewhat obscure because of the variation of the tenses in the Hebrew. And yet I have no doubt that the true and natural sense is that David, when he recalled his former condition, experienced all the more sadness by comparing it with his present condition.

The remembrance of the past, I say, significantly aggravated his misery, stemming from the thought that he—who had formerly acted as a leader and standard-bearer in conducting others to the holy assemblies—was now barred from access to the temple. We know that those who have been accustomed to suffering from their childhood become numb to it, and the very continuance of misery produces in us a certain degree of callousness, so that we cease to think of it or to regard it as anything unusual.

It is different with those who have not been so accustomed to it. Therefore, it is no wonder that David—who had not been one of the common people but had recently occupied a chief place among the princes and led the foremost ranks among the faithful—was more deeply distressed when he saw himself utterly cast off and not even admitted to a place among the lowest.

Accordingly, I connect the demonstrative pronoun these with the following declaration: that he remembered how he had been accustomed to mingle with the godly and to lead them to the house of God. To pour out the soul is taken metaphorically by some to mean expressing his grief; others believe it signifies to rejoice greatly, or, as we commonly say, to be melted or dissolved in joy. It appears to me that David rather means that his affections were, as it were, melted within him, whether from joy or sorrow.

Just as the soul of man sustains him as long as it keeps its energies collected, so it also sinks within him and, as it were, vanishes, when any of the affections gains ascendancy through excessive indulgence. Accordingly, he is said to pour out his soul when he is so excited that his affections lose their vigor and begin to flow out.

David’s language implies that his soul melted and fainted within him because of the greatness of his sorrow, when he thought of the condition from which he had fallen. If any would rather understand it of joy, the language allows for an illustration like this: Formerly I took such a delight in walking foremost in the ranks of the people, and leading them in procession to the sanctuary, that my heart melted within me for joy, and I was quite transported by it; if, therefore, I should again be restored to the same happy condition, all my feelings would be enraptured by the same delight.

I have, however, already stated what appeared to me to be the best exposition. We must not suppose that David had been overwhelmed with the sorrow of the world; but, since in his present misery he discerned the wrath of God, he sorrowed in a godly way, because by his own fault he had provoked God’s displeasure against himself.

And, even without addressing this reason for his sorrow, we see the source from which it came. Even when afflicted by so many personal privations, he is nevertheless grieved only for the sanctuary, thereby showing that it would have been less distressing to him to have been deprived of life than to continue in a state of exile from the presence of God.

And indeed, the way we ought to regulate all our affections is this: that on the one hand, our joy should relate to the paternal love and favor of God toward us, and that on the other, the only cause of our grief should arise from feeling that he is angry with us.

This is the “godly sorrow” of which Paul speaks (2 Corinthians 7:10). By the term number, which in the Hebrew is called סך, sach, David, I have no doubt, intended ranks, or companies in procession; for when they went to the tabernacle on the holy days, they did not go in confusion or in crowds, but walked in regular order (Luke 2:44).

O my soul! why are you cast down? From this it appears that David contended strongly against his sorrow, lest he yield to temptation. But what we should chiefly observe is that he had experienced a strong and bitter contest before he obtained the victory over it; or we might rather say, that he was not delivered from it after one alarming assault, but was often called upon to enter into new scenes of conflict.

It should not surprise us that he was so much disquieted and cast down, since he could not discern any sign of the divine favor towards him. But David here represents himself as if he formed two opposing parties. Insofar as, in the exercise of faith, he relied upon the promises of God, being armed with the Spirit of invincible fortitude, he set himself in opposition to the affections of his flesh to restrain and subdue them; and, at the same time, he rebuked his own cowardice and weakness of heart.

Moreover, although he carried on war against the devil and the world, yet he does not enter into open and direct conflict with them but rather regards himself as the enemy against whom he chiefly desires to contend. And doubtless, the best way to overcome Satan is not to go out of ourselves but to maintain an internal conflict against the desires of our own hearts.

However, it should be observed that David confesses that his soul was cast down within him. For when our infirmities rise up in vast array and, like the waves of the sea, are ready to overwhelm us, our faith seems to us to fail, and, as a consequence, we are so overcome by mere fear that we lack courage and are afraid to enter into the conflict.

Therefore, whenever such a state of indifference and faint-heartedness seizes upon us, let us remember that to govern and subdue the desires of our hearts, and especially to contend against the feelings of distrust which are natural to all, is a conflict to which the godly are often called.

But here two evils are specified which, however apparently different, yet assail our hearts at the same time: the one is discouragement, and the other disquietude. When we are quite downcast, we are not free from a feeling of disquietude, which leads us to murmur and complain. The remedy for both of them is added here: hope in God, which alone, first, inspires our minds with confidence in the midst of the greatest troubles and, second, through the exercise of patience, preserves them in peace.

In what follows, David very well expresses the power and nature of hope by these words, I shall yet praise him; for it has the effect of elevating our thoughts to the contemplation of the grace of God when it is hidden from our view. By the term yet, he confesses that for the present, and insofar as the praises of God are concerned, his mouth is stopped, since he is oppressed and shut up on all sides.

This, however, does not prevent him from extending his hope to some future distant period; and, in order to escape from his present sorrow and, as it were, get beyond its reach, he promises himself what as yet there was no appearance of obtaining. Nor is this an imaginary expectation produced by a fanciful mind; but, relying upon the promises of God, he not only encourages himself to cherish good hope but also promises himself certain deliverance.

We can only be competent witnesses to our fellow believers of the grace of God when, first, we have borne testimony to it to our own hearts. What follows, The helps of his countenance, may be differently interpreted. Commentators, for the most part, supply the word for: so that, according to this view, David here expresses the matter or cause of thanksgiving—that yet he would give praise or thanks to God for the help of his countenance. This interpretation I readily admit.

At the same time, the sense will not be inappropriate if we read the terms separately, thus: helps or salvations are from the countenance of God; for as soon as he is pleased to look upon his people, he sets them in safety. The countenance of God is taken for the manifestation of his favor. His countenance then appears serene and gracious to us, while, on the contrary, adversity, like intervening clouds, darkens or obscures its benign aspect.

O my God! my soul is cast down within me. If we suppose that this verse requires no supplement, then it will consist of two distinct and separate sentences. Literally, it may be read this way: O my God! my soul is cast down within me, therefore will I remember thee, etc. But most expositors translate the word על-כן , al-ken, as since, or because, so that it is used to express the reason for what is contained in the preceding clause.

And certainly, it would be very appropriate in this sense: that whenever David, from the land of Jordan, where he now lay hidden as an exile, turned his thoughts to the sanctuary, his sorrow was all the more increased. If, however, anyone would prefer, as I have already observed, to distinguish this verse into two parts, it must be understood as meaning that David thought of God in his exile, not to nourish his grief, but to assuage it.

He did not act like those who find relief in their afflictions only by forgetting God; for although wounded by his hand, he nevertheless still acknowledged him to be his physician. Accordingly, the meaning of the whole verse will be this: I am now living in a state of exile, banished from the temple, and seem to be an alien from the household of God; but this will not prevent me from regarding him and turning to him.

I am now deprived of the accustomed sacrifices, which I greatly need, but he has not taken his word from me. However, as the first interpretation is the one more generally received, and this also seems to be added as an explanation, it is better not to depart from it.

David then complains that his soul was oppressed with sorrow because he saw himself cast out of the Church of God. At the same time, there is a tacit contrast in these words, as if he had said: It is not the desire to be restored to my wife, my house, or any of my possessions that grieves me so much as the distressing consideration that I now find myself prevented from taking part in the service of God.

We should learn from this that although we are deprived of the aids which God has appointed for the edification of our faith and piety, it is still our duty to be diligent in stirring up our minds, so that we never allow ourselves to forget God.

But, above all, it should be observed that just as in the preceding verse we have seen David contending courageously against his own emotions, so now we see here by what means he steadfastly maintained his ground. He did this by turning to God’s help and taking refuge in it as in a holy sanctuary.

And certainly, if meditation on the promises of God does not lead us to prayer, it will not have sufficient power to sustain and confirm us. Unless God gives us strength, how will we be able to subdue the many evil thoughts that constantly arise in our minds? The soul of man serves, so to speak, as a workshop for Satan in which to forge a thousand methods of despair. Therefore, it is with good reason that David, after a severe conflict with himself, turns to prayer and calls upon God as the witness of his sorrow.

By the land of Jordan is to be understood that part of the country which, relative to Judea, was beyond the river of that name. This becomes even clearer from the word Hermonim or Hermons. Hermon was a mountainous district that extended a considerable distance; and because it had several tops, it was called Hermonim in the plural.

Perhaps David also purposely used the plural number because of the fear that forced him frequently to change where he lived and to wander here and there. As for the word Mizar, some suppose that it was not the proper name of a mountain and therefore translate it as little, supposing that there is an indirect comparison here of the Hermons with Mount Zion, as if David meant to say that Zion, which was comparatively a small hill, was greater in his estimation than the lofty Hermons; but it appears to me that this would be a constrained interpretation.