9 I will say to God my Rock, Why have you let me go from your memory? why do I go in sorrow because of the attacks of my haters?
Keep in mind, O Lord, what has come to us: take note and see our shame. Our heritage is given up to men of strange lands, our houses to those who are not our countrymen. We are children without fathers, our mothers are like widows. We give money for a drink of water, we get our wood for a price. Our attackers are on our necks: overcome with weariness, we have no rest. We have given our hands to the Egyptians and to the Assyrians so that we might have enough bread. Our fathers were sinners and are dead; and the weight of their evil-doing is on us. Servants are ruling over us, and there is no one to make us free from their hands. We put our lives in danger to get our bread, because of the sword of the waste land. Our skin is heated like an oven because of our burning heat from need of food. They took by force the women in Zion, the virgins in the towns of Judah. Their hands put princes to death by hanging: the faces of old men were not honoured. The young men were crushing the grain, and the boys were falling under the wood. The old men are no longer seated in the doorway, and the music of the young men has come to an end. The joy of our hearts is ended; our dancing is changed into sorrow. The crown has been taken from our head: sorrow is ours, for we are sinners.
For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark. My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me. I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help. I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches. My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease. And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
Why are you sleeping, O Lord? awake! and come to our help, do not give us up for ever. Why is your face covered, and why do you give no thought to our trouble and our cruel fate?
<To the chief music-maker on Aijeleth-hash-shahar. A Psalm. Of David.> My God, my God, why are you turned away from me? why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my crying? O my God, I make my cry in the day, and you give no answer; and in the night, and have no rest.
Worthy.Bible » Commentaries » Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible » Commentary on Psalms 42
Commentary on Psalms 42 Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible
PSALM 42
Ps 42:1-11. Maschil—(See on Ps 32:1, title). For, or of (see Introduction) the sons of Korah. The writer, perhaps one of this Levitical family of singers accompanying David in exile, mourns his absence from the sanctuary, a cause of grief aggravated by the taunts of enemies, and is comforted in hopes of relief. This course of thought is repeated with some variety of detail, but closing with the same refrain.
1, 2. Compare (Ps 63:1).
panteth—desires in a state of exhaustion.
2. appear before God—in acts of worship, the terms used in the command for the stated personal appearance of the Jews at the sanctuary.
3. Where is thy God?—implying that He had forsaken him (compare 2Sa 16:7; Ps 3:2; 22:8).
4. The verbs are properly rendered as futures, "I will remember," &c.,—that is, the recollection of this season of distress will give greater zest to the privileges of God's worship, when obtained.
5. Hence he chides his despondent soul, assuring himself of a time of joy.
help of his countenance—or, "face" (compare Nu 6:25; Ps 4:6; 16:11).
6. Dejection again described.
therefore—that is, finding no comfort in myself, I turn to Thee, even in this distant "land of Jordan and the (mountains) Hermon, the country east of Jordan.
hill Mizar—as a name of a small hill contrasted with the mountains round about Jerusalem, perhaps denoted the contempt with which the place of exile was regarded.
7. The roar of successive billows, responding to that of floods of rain, represented the heavy waves of sorrow which overwhelmed him.
8. Still he relies on as constant a flow of divine mercy which will elicit his praise and encourage his prayer to God.
9, 10. in view of which [Ps 42:8], he dictates to himself a prayer based on his distress, aggravated as it was by the cruel taunts and infidel suggestions of his foes.
11. This brings on a renewed self-chiding, and excites hopes of relief.
health—or help.
of my countenance—(compare Ps 42:5) who cheers me, driving away clouds of sorrow from my face.
my God—It is He of whose existence and favor my foes would have me doubt.