Jeremiah 23:12(v18)Therefore their way will be to them as slippery places in the darkness. They will be driven on, and fall therein; for I will bring evil on…
Psalms 35:6(v18)Let their way be dark and slippery, Yahweh’s angel pursuing them.
Isaiah 47:11(v19)Therefore disaster will come on you. You won’t know when it dawns. Mischief will fall on you. You won’t be able to put it away. Desolation…
Deuteronomy 32:35(v18)Vengeance is mine, and recompense, at the time when their foot slides; for the day of their calamity is at hand. Their doom rushes at them.”
Job 20:8(v20)He will fly away as a dream, and will not be found. Yes, he will be chased away like a vision of the night.
Show all 32 cross-references
Psalms 55:23(v18)But you, God, will bring them down into the pit of destruction. Bloodthirsty and deceitful men shall not live out half their days, but I…
Psalms 78:65(v20)Then the Lord awakened as one out of sleep, like a mighty man who shouts by reason of wine.
Psalms 94:23(v18)He has brought on them their own iniquity, and will cut them off in their own wickedness. Yahweh, our God, will cut them off.
Proverbs 28:1(v19)The wicked flee when no one pursues; but the righteous are as bold as a lion.
Daniel 5:6(v19)Then the king’s face was changed in him, and his thoughts troubled him; and the joints of his thighs were loosened, and his knees struck…
2 Thessalonians 1:9(v18)who will pay the penalty: eternal destruction from the face of the Lord and from the glory of his might,
Job 15:21(v19)A sound of terrors is in his ears. In prosperity the destroyer will come on him.
Job 20:5(v19)that the triumphing of the wicked is short, the joy of the godless but for a moment?
Psalms 37:20(v18)But the wicked shall perish. The enemies of Yahweh shall be like the beauty of the fields. They will vanish— vanish like smoke.
Psalms 37:35-38(v18)I have seen the wicked in great power, spreading himself like a green tree in its native soil. But he passed away, and behold, he was not.…
Psalms 92:7(v18)though the wicked spring up as the grass, and all the evildoers flourish, they will be destroyed forever.
Isaiah 30:13(v19)therefore this iniquity shall be to you like a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high wall, whose breaking comes suddenly in an…
1 Thessalonians 5:3(v19)For when they are saying, “Peace and safety,” then sudden destruction will come on them, like birth pains on a pregnant woman. Then they…
Revelation 18:10(v19)standing far away for the fear of her torment, saying, ‘Woe, woe, the great city, Babylon, the strong city! For your judgment has come in…
Numbers 16:21(v19)“Separate yourselves from among this congregation, that I may consume them in a moment!”
Numbers 17:12-13(v19)The children of Israel spoke to Moses, saying, “Behold, we perish! We are undone! We are all undone! Everyone who keeps approaching…
1 Samuel 28:20(v19)Then Saul fell immediately his full length on the earth, and was terrified, because of Samuel’s words. There was no strength in him; for he…
Job 18:11(v19)Terrors will make him afraid on every side, and will chase him at his heels.
Job 20:23-25(v19)When he is about to fill his belly, God will cast the fierceness of his wrath on him. It will rain on him while he is eating. He will flee…
Psalms 7:6(v20)Arise, Yahweh, in your anger. Lift up yourself against the rage of my adversaries. Awake for me. You have commanded judgment.
Psalms 37:24(v18)Though he stumble, he shall not fall, for Yahweh holds him up with his hand.
Psalms 39:6(v20)“Surely every man walks like a shadow. Surely they busy themselves in vain. He heaps up, and doesn’t know who shall gather.
Psalms 58:9(v19)Before your pots can feel the heat of the thorns, he will sweep away the green and the burning alike.
Psalms 90:5(v20)You sweep them away as they sleep. In the morning they sprout like new grass.
Isaiah 21:3-4(v19)Therefore my thighs are filled with anguish. Pains have seized me, like the pains of a woman in labor. I am in so much pain that I can’t…
Isaiah 29:7-8(v20)The multitude of all the nations that fight against Ariel, even all who fight against her and her stronghold, and who distress her, will be…
Acts 2:23(v19)him, being delivered up by the determined counsel and foreknowledge of God, you have taken by the hand of lawless men, crucified and killed;
Cross-references from openbible.info (CC BY 4.0)
Explain this passage (17 sources)
Historical commentary, presented as a primary source — not an endorsement.
John Calvin1540 · Public DomainOn vv18–2018. Surely thou hast set them in slippery places.…
18. Surely thou hast set them in slippery places. David, having now gone through his conflicts, begins, if we may use the expression, to be a new man; and he speaks with a quiet and composed mind, being, as it were, elevated on a watchtower, from which he obtained a clear and distinct view of things which before were hidden from him. It was the prophet Habakkuk’s resolution to take such a position, and, by his example, he prescribes this to us as a remedy in the midst of troubles — “I will stand upon my watch,” says he, “and set me upon the tower,” (Habakkuk 2:1.) David, therefore, shows how much advantage is to be derived from approaching God. I now see, says he, how thou proceedest in thy providence; for, although the ungodly continue to stand for a brief season, yet they are, as it were, perched on slippery places, that they may fall ere long into destruction. Both the verbs of this verse are in the past tense; but the first, to set them in slippery places, is to be understood of the present time, as if it had been said, — God for a short period thus lifts them up on high, that when they fall their fall may be the heavier. This, it is true, seems to be the lot of the righteous as well as of the wicked; for everything in this world is slippery, uncertain, and changeable. But as true believers depend upon heaven, or rather, as the power of God is the foundation on which they rest, it is not said of them that they are set in slippery places, notwithstanding the frailty and uncertainty which characterises their condition in this world. What although they stumble or even fall, the Lord has his hand under them to sustain and strengthen them when they stumble, and to raise them up when they are fallen. The uncertainty of the condition of the ungodly, or, as it is here expressed, their slippery condition, proceeds from this, that they take pleasure in contemplating their own power and greatness, and admire themselves on that account, just like a person who would walk at leisure upon ice; and thus by their infatuated presumption, they prepare themselves for falling down headlong. We are not to picture to our imaginations a wheel of fortune, which, as it revolves, embroils all things in confusion; but we must admit the truth to which the prophet here adverts, and which he tells us is made known to all the godly in the sanctuary, that there is a secret providence of God which manages all the affairs of the world. On this subject my readers, if they choose, may peruse the beautiful verses of Claudian in his first book against Ruffinus.
John Calvin's Commentaries (1540-1563) — public domain. Text from the Calvin Translation Society English edition (1840s-50s) via the Christian Classics Ethereal Library (ccel.org). Calvin's coverage is partial (roughly two-thirds of the Bible); uncommented books and verses are honest gaps, never fabricated. The 19th-century editor's footnotes and remarks are omitted so the notes are faithfully Calvin's own voice.
Geneva Bible translators1599 · Public DomainOn vv19–20By thy fearful judgment.
By thy fearful judgment.
Geneva Bible (1599) marginal notes — public domain.
John Trapp1656 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Psa 73:18 Surely thou didst set them in slippery…
Psa 73:18 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down into destruction.
Ver. 18. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places] Where they can have no more certainty than if they went upon the smoothest ice, or walked upon a mine of gunpowder. The Turks, seeing so few of their viziers to die in their beds, have taken up this proverb, He that is even in the greatest office is but a statue of glass.
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Thou castedst them down into destruction] Improbos ex magna prosperitate tanquam ex Tarpeia rupe in barathrum perditienis praecipitasti. Haman for instance.
John Trapp, A Commentary or Exposition upon All the Books of the Old and New Testament (1647–1656) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Matthew Poole1685 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it was very…
Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it was very unstable, like a man’s standing in very slippery ground. The same hand which raised them will cast them down into the pit of utter destruction.
Matthew Poole's English Annotations on the Holy Bible (1683–1685) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
John Gill1763 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Surely thou didst set them in slippery places,.... In…
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places,.... In which a man cannot stand long, and without danger; and the higher they are the more dangerous, being slippery, and such are places of honour and riches. The phrase denotes the uncertainty and instability of these things, and the danger men are in who are possessed of them of falling into destruction and misery. The Targum is,
"thou didst set them in darkness;''
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to be in slippery places, and in the dark, is very uncomfortable, unsafe, and dangerous indeed; See Psa 35:6 and it may be observed, that all this honour, promotion, and riches, are of God; it is he that sets them in these places of honour and profit; and he that sets them up can pull them down, as he does; so it follows,
thou castest them down into destruction: into temporal destruction, by removing them from their high stations into a very low, mean, and contemptible state, as were Shebna and Nebuchadnezzar, Isa 22:15 and into everlasting destruction, from whence there is no recovery; see Psa 55:23.
John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible (1746–1763) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.
John Wesley1765 · Public DomainOn vv19–20Terrors - With God's dreadful judgements unexpectedly seizing upon…
Terrors - With God's dreadful judgements unexpectedly seizing upon them.
John Wesley, Explanatory Notes Upon the Whole Bible (1754–1765) — public domain. Text via the GEBible commentary corpus.
Adam Clarke1810 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Verse 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places]…
Verse 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places] Affluence is a slippery path; few have ever walked in it without falling. It is possible to be faithful in the unrighteous mammon, but it is very difficult. No man should desire riches; for they bring with them so many cares and temptations as to be almost unmanageable. Rich men, even when pious, are seldom happy; they do not enjoy the consolations of religion. A good man, possessed of very extensive estates, unblamable in his whole deportment, once said to me: "There must be some strange malignity in riches thus to keep me in continual bondage, and deprive me of the consolations of the Gospel." Perhaps to a person to whom his estates are a snare, the words of our Lord may be literally applicable: "Sell what thou hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up thy cross, and follow me." But he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions! May we not then say with the psalmist, Surely thou digest set them in slippery places, &c.?
Adam Clarke's Commentary on the Bible (1810–1826) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
Joseph Benson1811 · Public DomainOn vv18–19Psa 73:18. Thou didst set them in slippery places…
Psa 73:18. Thou didst set them in slippery places — Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it is very unstable, like a man’s standing on very slippery ground. Thou castedst them down into destruction — The same hand which raised them will soon cast them down into utter ruin. “Worldly prosperity,” says Dr. Horne, “is as the narrow and slippery summit of a mountain, on which, to answer the designs of his providence, God permits the wicked, during his pleasure, to take their station; till, at length, the fatal hour arrives, when, by a stroke unseen, they fall from thence, and are lost in the fathomless ocean of sorrow, torment, and despair.”
Joseph Benson's Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1811–1818) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Albert Barnes1834 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Surely thou didst set them in slippery places -…
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places - Not in a solid and permanent position; not where their foothold would be secure, but as on smooth and slippery rocks, where they would be liable any moment to fall into the foaming billows. However prosperous their condition may seem to be now, yet it is a condition of uncertainty and danger, from which they must soon fall into ruin. In their prosperity there is nothing of permanence or Stability; and this fact will explain the difficulty.
Thou castedst them down into destruction - They are placed, not in a permanent condition, but in a condition from which they will be cast down to destruction. Ruin is before them; and the end will demonstrate the justice of God. Nothing can be determined from their present condition as to the question which caused so much perplexity, but in order to a proper solution we must wait to see the end. As an illustration of this, see the interesting account of the interview between Solon of Athens, and Croesus, the rich king of Lydia, as given in Herodotus, book i., 30-33.
Albert Barnes' Notes on the Bible (1834–1885) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
Daniel D. Whedon1874 · Public DomainOn vv18–2018-20. In these verses there is a rising climax…
18-20. In these verses there is a rising climax in the description of the doom of the wicked.
Surely—Answering to verily in New Testament.
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Slippery places—The figure is that of a narrow path along mountain crags where the rocks are smooth and treacherous.
Thou castedst them down—The fall of the wicked is not accidental, nor simply consequential. God casts them down. The strong arm of law now interferes.
Daniel D. Whedon (gen. ed.), Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1874–1909) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges1878 · Public DomainOn vv18–2018. Surely in slippery places dost thou appoint their…
18. Surely in slippery places dost thou appoint their lot:
Suddenly dost thou cast them down into ruin.
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Surely, as in Psa_73:1; Psa_73:13, means ‘after all.’ They are set in dangerous places where they will stumble and fall. Cp. Psa_35:6; Jer_23:12. The word for ruin occurs elsewhere only in Psa_74:3.
18–20. The awful fate of the wicked is the negative solution of the problem.
The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges (gen. ed. J. J. S. Perowne; Cambridge University Press, 1878–1918) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Ellicott's Commentary for English Readers1878 · Public DomainOn vv19–20(19) In a moment.—Literally, in a wink. (Comp. “In…
(19) In a moment.—Literally, in a wink. (Comp. “In the twinkling of an eye.”)
A Bible Commentary for English Readers, edited by Charles John Ellicott (1878–1897) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
The Pulpit Commentary1880 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Surely thou didst set them up in slippery places.…
Surely thou didst set them up in slippery places. The wicked have at no time any sure hold on their prosperity. They are a "set in slippery places places from which they may easily slip and fall. Thou castedst them down to destruction. The fall often comes, even in this life. The flourishing cities of the plain are destroyed by fire from heaven; Pharaoh"s land is ruined by the plagues, and his host destroyed in the Red Sea; Sennacherib"s army perishes in a night; Jezebel is devoured by dogs; Athaliah is slain with the sword; Antiochus Epiphanes perishes in a distant expedition; Herod Agrippa is eaten of worms; persecutors, like Nero, Galerius, Julian, come to untimely ends. A signal retribution visits the wicked in hundreds and thousands of instances. When it does not, the question remains Is death the end? This point is not formally brought forward, but it underlies the whole argument; and, unless retribution after death be regarded as certain, a single exception to the general rule of retribution in this life would upset the solution which the psalmist finds satisfactory.
The Pulpit Commentary (1880–1919), ed. H.D.M. Spence-Jones & Joseph S. Exell — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Charles H. Spurgeon1885 · Public DomainOn vv18–20Ver. 18. The Psalmist's sorrow had culminated, not in…
Ver. 18. The Psalmist's sorrow had culminated, not in the fact that the ungodly prospered, but that God had arranged it so: had it happened by mere chance, he would have wondered, but could not have complained; but how the arranger of all things could so dispense his temporal favours, was the vexatious question. Here, to meet the case, he sees that the divine hand purposely placed these men in prosperous and eminent circumstances, not with the intent to bless them but the very reverse.
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places. Their position was dangerous, and, therefore, God did not set his friends there but his foes alone. He chose, in infinite love, a rougher but safer standing for his own beloved.
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Thou castedst them down into destruction. The same hand which led them up to their Tarpeian rock, hurled them down from it. They were but elevated by judicial arrangement for the fuller execution of their doom. Eternal punishment will be all the more terrible in contrast with the former prosperity of those who are ripening for it. Taken as a whole, the case of the ungodly is horrible throughout; and their worldly joy instead of diminishing the horror, actually renders the effect the more awful, even as the vivid lightning amid the storm does not brighten but intensify the thick darkness which lowers around. The ascent to the fatal gallows of Haman was an essential ingredient in the terror of the sentence--"hang him thereon." If the wicked had not been raised so high they could not have fallen so low.
Ver. 18. Slippery places. The word in the original signifies slick, or smooth, as ice or polished marble, and is from thence by a metaphor used for flattery. Hence, Abenezra renders it, In locis adulationis posuisti eos: thou hast set them in places of flattery. Edward Parry.
Ver. 18. They are but exalted, as the shellfish by the eagle, according to the naturalist, to be thrown down on some rock and devoured. Their most glorious prosperity is but like a rainbow, which showeth itself for a little time in all its gaudy colours, and then vanisheth. The Turks, considering the unhappy end of their viziers, use this proverb, "He that is in the greatest office is but a statue of glass." Wicked men walk on glass or ice, thou hast set them in slippery places; on a sudden their feet slip--they fall, and break their necks. George Swinnock.
Ver. 18,20. Their banqueting house is very slippery, and the feast itself a mere dream. Thomas Adams.
Ver. 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places.
I. It implies that they were always exposed to sudden,
unexpected destruction. As he that walks in
slippery places is every moment liable to fall, he
cannot foresee one moment whether he shall stand or
fall the next; and when he does fall, he falls at
once without warning.
II. They are liable to fall of themselves, without
being thrown down by the hand of another; as he that
stands or walks on slippery ground needs nothing but
his own weight to throw him down.
III. There is nothing that keeps wicked men at any one
moment out of hell but the mere pleasure of God. Jonathan Edwards.
Ver. 18-20. The end of the wicked is,
I. Near: Thou hast set, etc. It may happen at any
time.
II. Judicial: Thou bringest, etc.
III. Sudden: How are they, etc.
IV. Tormenting: They are utterly consumed, etc.
V. Eternal: Left to themselves; gone from the mind of
God; and disregarded as a dream when one awaketh. No
after act respecting them, either for deliverance or
annihilation.
Psalms 73:19*
Ver. 18,20. Their banqueting house is very slippery, and the feast itself a mere dream. Thomas Adams.
Ver. 18-20. The end of the wicked is,
I. Near: Thou hast set, etc. It may happen at any
time.
II. Judicial: Thou bringest, etc.
III. Sudden: How are they, etc.
IV. Tormenting: They are utterly consumed, etc.
V. Eternal: Left to themselves; gone from the mind of
God; and disregarded as a dream when one awaketh. No
after act respecting them, either for deliverance or
annihilation.
Charles H. Spurgeon's The Treasury of David (1869–1885) — public domain. Psalms only. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
The Biblical Illustrator1887 · Public DomainOn v20As a dream when one awaketh.
Psa_73:20
As a dream when one awaketh.
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The sleep and dream of ungodly men
I. The ungodly are asleep. Not physically but spiritually.
II. In this sleep they dream. They fancy the world and its joys are real, abiding, secure, satisfying.
III. At death they awake. Their all is in this world, and lo, death comes and strips them of all they valued, as a dream of one awaking. How much better to have this awakening here! (W. Harris.)
The Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell (c. 1880s–1900s) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Alexander MacLaren1905 · Public DomainOn v20Psa 17:15. - Psa 73:20.
Psalms
THE TWO AWAKINGS
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Psa 17:15. - Psa 73:20.
Both of these Psalms are occupied with that standing puzzle to Old Testament worthies-the good fortune of bad men, and the bad fortune of good ones. The former recounts the personal calamities of David, its author. The latter gives us the picture of the perplexity of Asaph its writer, when he ‘saw the prosperity of the wicked.’
And as the problem in both is substantially the same, the solution also is the same. David and Asaph both point onwards to a period when this confusing distribution of earthly good shall have ceased, though the one regards that period chiefly in its bearing upon himself as the time when he shall see God and be at rest, while the other thinks of it rather with reference to the godless rich as the time of their destruction.
In the details of this common expectation, also, there is a remarkable parallelism. Both describe the future to which they look as an awaking, and both connect with it, though in different ways and using different words, the metaphor of an image or likeness. In the one case, the future is conceived as the Psalmist’s awaking, and losing all the vain show of this dreamland of life, while he is at rest in beholding the appearance, and perhaps in receiving the likeness, of the one enduring Substance, God. In the other, it is thought of as God’s awaking, and putting to shame the fleeting shadow of well-being with which godless men befool themselves.
What this period of twofold awaking may be is a question on which good men and thoughtful students of Scripture differ. Without entering on the wide subject of the Jewish knowledge of a future state, it may be enough for the present purpose to say that the language of both these Psalms seems much too emphatic and high-pitched, to be fully satisfied by a reference to anything in this life. It certainly looks as if the great awaking which David puts in immediate contrast with the death of ‘men of this world,’ and which solaced his heart with the confident expectation of beholding God, of full satisfaction of all his being, and possibly even of wearing the divine likeness, pointed onwards, however dimly, to that ‘within the veil.’ And as for the other psalm, though the awaking of God is, no doubt, a Scriptural phrase for His ending of any period of probation and indulgence by an act of judgment, yet the strong words in which the context describes this awaking, as the ‘destruction’ and the ‘end’ of the godless, make it most natural to take it as here referring to the final close of the probation of life. That conclusion appears to be strengthened by the contrast which in subsequent verses is drawn between this ‘end’ of the worldling, and the poet’s hopes for himself of divine guidance in life, and afterwards of being taken {the same word as is used in the account of Enoch’s translation} by God into His presence and glory-hopes whose exuberance it is hard to confine within the limits of any changes possible for earth.
The doctrine of a future state never assumed the same prominence, nor possessed the same clearness in Israel as with us. There are great tracts of the Old Testament where it does not appear at all. This very difficulty, about the strange disproportion between character and circumstances, shows that the belief had not the same place with them as with us. But it gradually emerged into comparative distinctness. Revelation is progressive, and the appropriation of revelation is progressive too. There is a history of God’s self-manifestation, and there is a history of man’s reception of the manifestation. It seems to me that in these two psalms, as in other places of Old Testament Scripture, we see inspired men in the very course of being taught by God, on occasion of their earthly sorrows, the clearer hopes which alone could sustain them. They stood not where we stand, to whom Christ has ‘brought life and immortality to light’; but to their devout and perplexed souls, the dim regions beyond were partially opened, and though they beheld there a great darkness, they also ‘saw a great light.’ They saw all this solid world fade and melt, and behind its vanishing splendours they saw the glory of the God whom they loved, in the midst of which they felt that there must be a place for them, where eternal realities should fill their vision, and a stable inheritance satisfy their hearts.
The period, then, to which both David and Asaph look, in these two verses, is the end of life. The words of both, taken in combination, open out a series of aspects of that period which carry weighty lessons, and to which we turn now.
I. The first of these is that to all men the end of Life is an awaking.
The representation of death most widely diffused among all nations is that it is a sleep. The reasons for that emblem are easily found. We always try to veil the terror and deformity of the ugly thing by the thin robe of language. As with reverential awe, so with fear and disgust, the tendency is to wrap their objects in the folds of metaphor. Men prefer not to name plainly their god or their dread, but find roundabout phrases for the one, and coaxing, flattering titles for the other. The furies and the fates of heathenism, the supernatural beings of modern superstition, must not be spoken of by their own appellations. The recoil of men’s hearts from the thing is testified by the aversion of their languages to the bald name-death. And the employment of this special euphemism of sleep is a wonderful witness to our weariness of life, and to its endless toil and trouble. Everywhere that has seemed to be a comforting and almost an attractive name, which has promised full rest from all the agitations of this changeful scene. The prosperous and the wretched alike have owned the fatigue of living, and been conscious of a soothing expectance which became almost a hope, as they thought of lying still at last with folded hands and shut eyes. The wearied workers have bent over their dead, and felt that they are blest in this at all events, that they rest from their labours; and as they saw them absolved from all their tasks, have sought to propitiate the power that had made this ease for them, as well as to express their sense of its merciful aspect, by calling it not death, but sleep.
But that emblem, true and sweet as it is, is but half the truth. Taken as the whole, as indeed men are ever tempted to take it, it is a cheerless lie. It is truth for the senses-’the foolish senses,’ who ‘crown’ Death, as ‘Omega,’ the last, ‘the Lord,’ because ‘they find no motion in the dead.’ Rest, cessation of consciousness of the outer world, and of action upon it, are set forth by the figure. But even the figure might teach us that the consciousness of life, and the vivid exercise of thought and feeling, are not denied by it. Death is sleep. Be it so. But does not that suggest the doubt-’in that sleep, what dreams may come?’ Do we not all know that, when the chains of slumber bind sense, and the disturbance of the outer world is hushed, there are faculties of our souls which work more strongly than in our waking hours? We are all poets, ‘makers’ in our sleep. Memory and imagination open their eyes when flesh closes it. We can live through years in the dreams of a night; so swiftly can spirit move when even partially freed from ‘this muddy vesture of decay.’ That very phrase, then, which at first sight seems the opposite of the representation of our text, in reality is preparatory to and confirmatory of it. That very representation which has lent itself to cheerless and heathenish thoughts of death as the cessation not only of toil but of activity, is the basis of the deeper and truer representation, the truth for the spirit, that death is an awaking. If, on the one hand, we have to say, as we anticipate the approaching end of life, ‘The night cometh, when no man can work’; on the other the converse is true, ‘The night is far spent; the day is at hand.’
We shall sleep. Yes; but we shall wake too. We shall wake just because we sleep. For flesh and all its weakness, and all its disturbing strength, and craving importunities-for the outer world, and all its dissipating garish shows, and all its sullen resistance to our hand-for weariness, and fevered activity and toil against the grain of our tastes, too great for our strength, disappointing in its results, the end is blessed, calm sleep. And precisely because it is so, therefore for our true selves, for heart and mind, for powers that lie dormant in the lowest, and are not stirred into full action in the highest, souls; for all that universe of realities which encompass us undisclosed, and known only by faint murmurs which pierce through the opiate sleep of life, the end shall be an awaking.
The truth which corresponds to this metaphor, and which David felt when he said, ‘I shall be satisfied when I awake,’ is that the spirit, because emancipated from the body, shall spring into greater intensity of action, shall put forth powers that have been held down here and shall come into contact with an order of things which here it has but indirectly known. To our true selves and to God we shall wake. Here we are like men asleep in some chamber that looks towards the eastern sky. Morning by morning comes the sunrise, with the tender glory of its rosy light and blushing heavens, and the heavy eyes are closed to it all. Here and there some lighter sleeper, with thinner eyelids or face turned to the sun, is half conscious of a vague brightness, and feels the light, though he sees not the colours of the sky nor the forms of the filmy clouds. Such souls are our saints and prophets, but most of us sleep on unconscious. To us all the moment comes when we shall wake and see for ourselves the bright and terrible world which we have so often forgotten, and so often been tempted to think was itself a dream. Brethren, see to it that that awaking be for you the beholding of what you have loved, the finding, in the sober certainty of waking bliss, of all the objects which have been your visions of delight in the sleep of earth.
This life of ours hides more than it reveals. The day shows the sky as solitary but for wandering clouds that cover its blue emptiness. But the night peoples its waste places with stars, and fills all its abysses with blazing glories. ‘If light so much conceals, wherefore not life?’ Let us hold fast by a deeper wisdom than is born of sense; and though men, nowadays, seem to be willing to go back to the ‘eternal sleep’ of the most unspiritual heathenism, and to cast away all that Christ has brought us concerning that world where He has been and whence He has returned, because positive science and the anatomist’s scalpel preach no gospel of a future, let us try to feel as well as to believe that it is life, with all its stunted capacities and idle occupation with baseless fabrics, which is the sleep, and that for us all the end of it is-to awake.
II. The second principle contained in our text is that death is to some men the awaking of God.
‘When Thou awakest, Thou shalt despise their image.’ Closely rendered, the former clause would read simply ‘in awaking,’ without any specifying of the person, which is left to be gathered from the succeeding words. But there is no doubt that the English version fills the blank correctly by referring the awaking to God.
The metaphor is not infrequent in the Old Testament, and, like many others applying to the divine nature, is saved from any possibility of misapprehension by the very boldness of its materialism. It has a well-marked and uniform meaning. God ‘awakes’ when He ends an epoch of probation and long-suffering mercy by an act or period of judgment. So far, then, as the mere expression is concerned, there may be nothing more meant here than the termination by a judicial act in this life, of the transient ‘prosperity of the wicked.’ Any divinely-sent catastrophe which casts the worldly rich man down from his slippery eminence would satisfy the words. But the emphatic context seems, as already pointed out, to require that they should be referred to that final crash which irrevocably separates him who has ‘his portion in this life,’ from all which he calls his ‘goods.’
If so, then the whole period of earthly existence is regarded as the time of God’s gracious forbearance and mercy; and the time of death is set forth as the instant when sterner elements of the divine dealings start into greater prominence. Life here is predominantly, though not exclusively, the field for the manifestation of patient love, not willing that any should perish. To the godless soul, immersed in material things, and blind to the light of God’s wooing love, the transition to that other form of existence is likewise the transition to the field for the manifestation of the retributive energy of God’s righteousness. Here and now His judgment on the whole slumbers. The consequences of our deeds are inherited, indeed, in many a merciful sorrow, in many a paternal chastisement, in many a partial exemplification of the wages of sin as death. But the harvest is not fully grown nor ripened yet; it is not reaped in all its extent; the bitter bread is not baked and eaten as it will have to be. Nor are men’s consciences so awakened that they connect the retribution, which does befall them, with its causes in their own actions, as closely as they will do when they are removed from the excitement of life and the deceit of its dreams. ‘Sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily.’ For the long years of our stay here, God’s seeking love lingers round every one of us, yearning over us, besetting us behind and before, courting us with kindnesses, lavishing on us its treasures, seeking to win our poor love. It is sometimes said that this is a state of probation. But that phrase suggests far too cold an idea. God does not set us here as on a knife edge, with abysses on either side ready to swallow us if we stumble, while He stands apart watching for our halting, and unhelpful to our tottering feebleness. He compasses us with His love and its gifts, He draws us to Himself, and desires that we should stand. He offers all the help of His angels to hold us up. ‘He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber.’ The judgment sleeps; the loving forbearance, the gracious aid wake. Shall we not yield to His perpetual pleadings, and, moved by the mercies of God, let His conquering love thaw our cold hearts into streams of thankfulness and self-devotion?
But remember, that that predominantly merciful and long-suffering character of God’s present dealing affords no guarantee that there will not come a time when His slumbering judgment will stir to waking. The same chapter which tells us that ‘He is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance,’ goes on immediately to repel the inference that therefore a period of which retribution shall be the characteristic is impossible, by the solemn declaration, ‘But the day of the Lord shall come as a thief in the night.’ His character remains ever the same, the principles of His government are unalterable, but there may be variations in the prominence given in His acts, to the several principles of the one, and the various though harmonious phases of the other. The method may be changed, the purpose may remain unchanged. And the Bible, which is our only source of knowledge on the subject, tells us that the method is changed, in so far as to intensify the vigour of the operation of retributive justice after death, so that men who have been compassed with ‘the loving-kindness of the Lord,’ and who die leaving worldly things, and keeping worldly hearts, will have to confront ‘the terror of the Lord.’
The alternation of epochs of tolerance and destruction is in accordance with the workings of God’s providence here and now. For though the characteristic of that providence as we see it is merciful forbearance, yet we are not left without many a premonition of the mighty final ‘day of the Lord.’ For long years or centuries a nation or an institution goes on slowly departing from truth, forgetting the principles on which it rests, or the purposes for which it exists. Patiently God pleads with the evil-doers, lavishes gifts and warnings upon them. He holds back the inevitable avenging as long as restoration is yet possible-and His eye and heart see it to be possible long after men conclude that the corruption is hopeless. But at last comes a period when He says, ‘I have long still holden My peace, and refrained Myself, now will I destroy’; and with a crash one more hoary iniquity disappears from the earth which it has burdened so long. For sixty times sixty slow, throbbing seconds, the silent hand creeps unnoticed round the dial and then, with whirr and clang, the bell rings out, and another hour of the world’s secular day is gone. The billows of the thunder-cloud slowly gather into vague form, and slowly deepen in lurid tints, and slowly roll across the fainting blue; they touch-and then the fierce flash, like the swift hand on the palace-wall of Babylon, writes its message of destruction over all the heaven at once. We know enough from the history of men and nations since Sodom till to-day, to recognise it as God’s plan to alternate long patience and ‘sudden destruction’:-
‘The mills of God grind slowly,
But they grind exceeding small’;
and every such instance confirms the expectation of the coming of that great and terrible day of the Lord, whereof all epochs of convulsion and ruin, all falls of Jerusalem, and Roman empires, Reformations, and French Revolutions, and American wars, all private and personal calamities which come from private wrong-doing, are but feeble precursors. ‘When Thou awakest, Thou wilt despise their image.’
Brethren, do we use aright this goodness of God which is the characteristic of the present? Are we ready for that judgment which is the mark of the future?
III. Death is the annihilation of the vain show of worldly life.
The word rendered image is properly shadow, and hence copy or likeness, and hence image. Here, however, the simpler meaning is the better. ‘Thou shalt despise their shadow.’ The men are shadows, and all their goods are not what they are called, their ‘substance,’ but their shadow, a mere appearance, not a reality. That show of good which seems but is not, is withered up by the light of the awaking God. What He despises cannot live.
So there are the two old commonplaces of moralists set forth in these grand words-the unsatisfying character of all merely external delights and possessions, and also their transitory character. They are non-substantial and non-permanent.
Nothing that is without a man can make him rich or restful. The treasures which are kept in coffers are not real, but only those which are kept in the soul. Nothing which cannot enter into the substance of the life and character can satisfy us. That which we are makes us rich or poor, that which we own is a trifle.
There is no congruity between any outward thing and man’s soul, of such a kind as that satisfaction can come from its possession. ‘Cisterns that can hold no water,’ ‘that which is not bread,’ ‘husks that the swine did eat’-these are not exaggerated phrases for the good gifts which God gives for our delight, and which become profitless and delusive by our exclusive attachment to them. There is no need for exaggeration. These worldly possessions have a good in them, they contribute to ease and grace in life, they save from carking cares and mean anxieties, they add many a comfort and many a source of culture. But, after all, a true, lofty life may be lived with a very small modicum. There is no proportion between wealth and happiness, nor between wealth and nobleness. The fairest life that ever lived on earth was that of a poor Man, and with all its beauty it moved within the limits of narrow resources. The loveliest blossoms do not grow on plants that plunge their greedy roots into the fattest soil. A little light earth in the crack of a hard rock will do. We need enough for the physical being to root itself in; we need no more.
Young men! especially you who are plunged into the busy life of our great commercial centres, and are tempted by everything you see, and by most that you hear, to believe that a prosperous trade and hard cash are the realities, and all else mist and dreams, fix this in your mind to begin life with-God is the reality, all else is shadow. Do not make it your ambition to get on, but to get up. ‘Having food and raiment, let us be content.’ Seek for your life’s delight and treasure in thought, in truth, in pure affections, in moderate desires, in a spirit set on God. These are the realities of our possessions. As for all the rest, it is sham and show.
And while thus all without is unreal, it is also fleeting as the shadows of the flying clouds; and when God awakes, it disappears as they before the noonlight that clears the heavens. All things that are, are on condition of perpetual flux and change. The cloud-rack has the likeness of bastions and towers, but they are mist, not granite, and the wind is every moment sweeping away their outlines, till the phantom fortress topples into red ruin while we gaze. The tiniest stream eats out its little valley and rounds the pebble in its widening bed, rain washes down the soil, and frost cracks the cliffs above. So silently and yet mightily does the law of change work that to a meditative eye the solid earth seems almost molten and fluid, and the everlasting mountains tremble to decay.
‘Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not?’ Are we going to be such fools as to fix our hopes and efforts upon this fleeting order of things, which can give no delight more lasting than itself? Even whilst we are in it, it continueth not in one stay, and we are in it for such a little while! Then comes what our text calls God’s awaking, and where is it all then? Gone like a ghost at cockcrow. Why! a drop of blood on your brain or a crumb of bread in your windpipe, and as far as you are concerned the outward heavens and earth ‘pass away with a great’ silence, as the impalpable shadows that sweep over some lone hillside.
‘The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate,
Death lays his icy hand on kings.’
What an awaking to a worldly man that awaking of God will be! ‘As when a hungry man dreameth, and behold he eateth, but he awaketh and his soul is empty.’ He has thought he fed full, and was rich and safe, but in one moment he is dragged from it all, and finds himself a starving pauper, in an order of things for which he has made no provision. ‘When he dieth, he shall carry nothing away.’ Let us see to it that not in utter nakedness do we go hence, but clothed with that immortal robe, and rich in those possessions that cannot be taken away from us, which they have who have lived on earth as heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ. Let us pierce, for the foundation of our life’s house, beneath the shifting sands of time down to the Rock of Ages, and build there.
IV. Finally, death is for some men the annihilation of the vain shows in order to reveal the great reality.
‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with Thy likeness.’
‘Likeness’ is properly ‘form,’ and is the same word which is employed in reference to Moses, who saw ‘the similitude of the Lord.’ If there be, as is most probable, an allusion to that ancient vision in these words, then the ‘likeness’ is not that conformity to the divine character which it is the goal of our hopes to possess, but the beholding of His self-manifestation. The parallelism of the verse also points to such an interpretation.
If so, then, we have here the blessed confidence that when all the baseless fabric of the dream of life has faded from our opening eyes, we shall see the face of our ever-loving God. Here the distracting whirl of earthly things obscures Him from even the devoutest souls, and His own mighty works which reveal do also conceal. In them is the hiding as well as the showing of His power. But there the veil which draped the perfect likeness, and gave but dim hints through its heavy swathings of the outline of immortal beauty that lay beneath, shall fall away. No longer befooled by shadows, we shall possess the true substance; no longer bedazzled by shows, we shall behold the reality.
And seeing God we shall be satisfied. With all lesser joys the eye is not satisfied with seeing, but to look on Him will be enough. Enough for mind and heart, wearied and perplexed with partial knowledge and imperfect love; enough for eager desires, which thirst, after all draughts from other streams; enough for will, chafing against lower lords and yet longing for authoritative control; enough for all my being-to see God. Here we can rest after all wanderings, and say, ‘I travel no further; here will I dwell for ever-I shall be satisfied.’
And may these dim hopes not suggest to us too some presentiment of the full Christian truth of assimilation dependent on vision, and of vision reciprocally dependent on likeness? ‘We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is,’-words which reach a height that David but partially discerned through the mist. This much he knew, that he should in some transcendent sense behold the manifested God; and this much more, that it must be ‘in righteousness’ that he should gaze upon that face. The condition of beholding the Holy One was holiness. We know that the condition of holiness is trust in Christ. And as we reckon up the rich treasure of our immortal hopes, our faith grows bold, and pauses not even at the lofty certainty of God without us, known directly and adequately, but climbs to the higher assurance of God within us, flooding our darkness with His great light, and changing us into the perfect copies of His express Image, His only-begotten Son. ‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with Thy likeness,’ cries the prophet Psalmist. ‘It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master,’ responds the Christian hope.
Brethren! take heed that the process of dissipating the vain shows of earth be begun betimes in your souls. It must either be done by Faith, whose rod disenchants them into their native nothingness, and then it is blessed; or it must be done by death, whose mace smites them to dust, and then it is pure, irrevocable loss and woe. Look away from, or rather look through, things that are seen to the King eternal, invisible. Let your hearts seek Christ, and your souls cleave to Him. Then death will take away nothing from you that you would care to keep, but will bring you your true joy. It will but trample to fragments the ‘dome of many-coloured glass’ that ‘stains the white radiance of eternity.’ Looking forward calmly to that supreme hour, you will be able to say, ‘I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.’ Looking back upon it from beyond, and wondering to find how brief it was, and how close to Him whom you love it has brought you, your now immortal lips touched by the rising Sun of the heavenly morning will thankfully exclaim, ‘When I awake, I am still with Thee.’
Alexander MacLaren, Expositions of Holy Scripture (1904–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
unfoldingWord translationNotes2017 · CC BY-SA 4.0On v18put them
put them
The word "them" refers to the wicked.
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slippery places
"unsafe or unstable ground." See how "slipped" is translated in Psalms 73:2.
How they become a wilderness in a moment
The word "wilderness" is a metaphor for a person who has lost everything good. AT: "How quickly they are destroyed" (See: Metaphor)
like a dream after one wakes up
The wicked will last no longer than what a person sees in a dream. It disappears as soon as the person wakes up. (See: Simile)
John Calvin 1540 · Public Domain On vv18–20 18. Surely thou hast set them in slippery places.…
18. Surely thou hast set them in slippery places. David, having now gone through his conflicts, begins, if we may use the expression, to be a new man; and he speaks with a quiet and composed mind, being, as it were, elevated on a watchtower, from which he obtained a clear and distinct view of things which before were hidden from him. It was the prophet Habakkuk’s resolution to take such a position, and, by his example, he prescribes this to us as a remedy in the midst of troubles — “I will stand upon my watch,” says he, “and set me upon the tower,” (Habakkuk 2:1.) David, therefore, shows how much advantage is to be derived from approaching God. I now see, says he, how thou proceedest in thy providence; for, although the ungodly continue to stand for a brief season, yet they are, as it were, perched on slippery places, that they may fall ere long into destruction. Both the verbs of this verse are in the past tense; but the first, to set them in slippery places, is to be understood of the present time, as if it had been said, — God for a short period thus lifts them up on high, that when they fall their fall may be the heavier. This, it is true, seems to be the lot of the righteous as well as of the wicked; for everything in this world is slippery, uncertain, and changeable. But as true believers depend upon heaven, or rather, as the power of God is the foundation on which they rest, it is not said of them that they are set in slippery places, notwithstanding the frailty and uncertainty which characterises their condition in this world. What although they stumble or even fall, the Lord has his hand under them to sustain and strengthen them when they stumble, and to raise them up when they are fallen. The uncertainty of the condition of the ungodly, or, as it is here expressed, their slippery condition, proceeds from this, that they take pleasure in contemplating their own power and greatness, and admire themselves on that account, just like a person who would walk at leisure upon ice; and thus by their infatuated presumption, they prepare themselves for falling down headlong. We are not to picture to our imaginations a wheel of fortune, which, as it revolves, embroils all things in confusion; but we must admit the truth to which the prophet here adverts, and which he tells us is made known to all the godly in the sanctuary, that there is a secret providence of God which manages all the affairs of the world. On this subject my readers, if they choose, may peruse the beautiful verses of Claudian in his first book against Ruffinus.
John Calvin's Commentaries (1540-1563) — public domain. Text from the Calvin Translation Society English edition (1840s-50s) via the Christian Classics Ethereal Library (ccel.org). Calvin's coverage is partial (roughly two-thirds of the Bible); uncommented books and verses are honest gaps, never fabricated. The 19th-century editor's footnotes and remarks are omitted so the notes are faithfully Calvin's own voice.
Geneva Bible translators 1599 · Public Domain On vv19–20 By thy fearful judgment.
By thy fearful judgment.
Geneva Bible (1599) marginal notes — public domain.
John Trapp 1656 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Psa 73:18 Surely thou didst set them in slippery…
Psa 73:18 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down into destruction.
Ver. 18. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places] Where they can have no more certainty than if they went upon the smoothest ice, or walked upon a mine of gunpowder. The Turks, seeing so few of their viziers to die in their beds, have taken up this proverb, He that is even in the greatest office is but a statue of glass.
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Thou castedst them down into destruction] Improbos ex magna prosperitate tanquam ex Tarpeia rupe in barathrum perditienis praecipitasti. Haman for instance.
John Trapp, A Commentary or Exposition upon All the Books of the Old and New Testament (1647–1656) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Matthew Poole 1685 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it was very…
Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it was very unstable, like a man’s standing in very slippery ground. The same hand which raised them will cast them down into the pit of utter destruction.
Matthew Poole's English Annotations on the Holy Bible (1683–1685) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
John Gill 1763 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places,.... In…
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places,.... In which a man cannot stand long, and without danger; and the higher they are the more dangerous, being slippery, and such are places of honour and riches. The phrase denotes the uncertainty and instability of these things, and the danger men are in who are possessed of them of falling into destruction and misery. The Targum is,
"thou didst set them in darkness;''
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to be in slippery places, and in the dark, is very uncomfortable, unsafe, and dangerous indeed; See Psa 35:6 and it may be observed, that all this honour, promotion, and riches, are of God; it is he that sets them in these places of honour and profit; and he that sets them up can pull them down, as he does; so it follows,
thou castest them down into destruction: into temporal destruction, by removing them from their high stations into a very low, mean, and contemptible state, as were Shebna and Nebuchadnezzar, Isa 22:15 and into everlasting destruction, from whence there is no recovery; see Psa 55:23.
John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible (1746–1763) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.
John Wesley 1765 · Public Domain On vv19–20 Terrors - With God's dreadful judgements unexpectedly seizing upon…
Terrors - With God's dreadful judgements unexpectedly seizing upon them.
John Wesley, Explanatory Notes Upon the Whole Bible (1754–1765) — public domain. Text via the GEBible commentary corpus.
Adam Clarke 1810 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Verse 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places]…
Verse 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places] Affluence is a slippery path; few have ever walked in it without falling. It is possible to be faithful in the unrighteous mammon, but it is very difficult. No man should desire riches; for they bring with them so many cares and temptations as to be almost unmanageable. Rich men, even when pious, are seldom happy; they do not enjoy the consolations of religion. A good man, possessed of very extensive estates, unblamable in his whole deportment, once said to me: "There must be some strange malignity in riches thus to keep me in continual bondage, and deprive me of the consolations of the Gospel." Perhaps to a person to whom his estates are a snare, the words of our Lord may be literally applicable: "Sell what thou hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up thy cross, and follow me." But he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions! May we not then say with the psalmist, Surely thou digest set them in slippery places, &c.?
Adam Clarke's Commentary on the Bible (1810–1826) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
Joseph Benson 1811 · Public Domain On vv18–19 Psa 73:18. Thou didst set them in slippery places…
Psa 73:18. Thou didst set them in slippery places — Their happiness hath no firm foundation; it is very unstable, like a man’s standing on very slippery ground. Thou castedst them down into destruction — The same hand which raised them will soon cast them down into utter ruin. “Worldly prosperity,” says Dr. Horne, “is as the narrow and slippery summit of a mountain, on which, to answer the designs of his providence, God permits the wicked, during his pleasure, to take their station; till, at length, the fatal hour arrives, when, by a stroke unseen, they fall from thence, and are lost in the fathomless ocean of sorrow, torment, and despair.”
Joseph Benson's Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1811–1818) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Albert Barnes 1834 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places -…
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places - Not in a solid and permanent position; not where their foothold would be secure, but as on smooth and slippery rocks, where they would be liable any moment to fall into the foaming billows. However prosperous their condition may seem to be now, yet it is a condition of uncertainty and danger, from which they must soon fall into ruin. In their prosperity there is nothing of permanence or Stability; and this fact will explain the difficulty.
Thou castedst them down into destruction - They are placed, not in a permanent condition, but in a condition from which they will be cast down to destruction. Ruin is before them; and the end will demonstrate the justice of God. Nothing can be determined from their present condition as to the question which caused so much perplexity, but in order to a proper solution we must wait to see the end. As an illustration of this, see the interesting account of the interview between Solon of Athens, and Croesus, the rich king of Lydia, as given in Herodotus, book i., 30-33.
Albert Barnes' Notes on the Bible (1834–1885) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
Daniel D. Whedon 1874 · Public Domain On vv18–20 18-20. In these verses there is a rising climax…
18-20. In these verses there is a rising climax in the description of the doom of the wicked.
Surely—Answering to verily in New Testament.
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Slippery places—The figure is that of a narrow path along mountain crags where the rocks are smooth and treacherous.
Thou castedst them down—The fall of the wicked is not accidental, nor simply consequential. God casts them down. The strong arm of law now interferes.
Daniel D. Whedon (gen. ed.), Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1874–1909) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges 1878 · Public Domain On vv18–20 18. Surely in slippery places dost thou appoint their…
18. Surely in slippery places dost thou appoint their lot:
Suddenly dost thou cast them down into ruin.
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Surely, as in Psa_73:1; Psa_73:13, means ‘after all.’ They are set in dangerous places where they will stumble and fall. Cp. Psa_35:6; Jer_23:12. The word for ruin occurs elsewhere only in Psa_74:3.
18–20. The awful fate of the wicked is the negative solution of the problem.
The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges (gen. ed. J. J. S. Perowne; Cambridge University Press, 1878–1918) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Ellicott's Commentary for English Readers 1878 · Public Domain On vv19–20 (19) In a moment.—Literally, in a wink. (Comp. “In…
(19) In a moment.—Literally, in a wink. (Comp. “In the twinkling of an eye.”)
A Bible Commentary for English Readers, edited by Charles John Ellicott (1878–1897) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
The Pulpit Commentary 1880 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Surely thou didst set them up in slippery places.…
Surely thou didst set them up in slippery places. The wicked have at no time any sure hold on their prosperity. They are a "set in slippery places places from which they may easily slip and fall. Thou castedst them down to destruction. The fall often comes, even in this life. The flourishing cities of the plain are destroyed by fire from heaven; Pharaoh"s land is ruined by the plagues, and his host destroyed in the Red Sea; Sennacherib"s army perishes in a night; Jezebel is devoured by dogs; Athaliah is slain with the sword; Antiochus Epiphanes perishes in a distant expedition; Herod Agrippa is eaten of worms; persecutors, like Nero, Galerius, Julian, come to untimely ends. A signal retribution visits the wicked in hundreds and thousands of instances. When it does not, the question remains Is death the end? This point is not formally brought forward, but it underlies the whole argument; and, unless retribution after death be regarded as certain, a single exception to the general rule of retribution in this life would upset the solution which the psalmist finds satisfactory.
The Pulpit Commentary (1880–1919), ed. H.D.M. Spence-Jones & Joseph S. Exell — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Charles H. Spurgeon 1885 · Public Domain On vv18–20 Ver. 18. The Psalmist's sorrow had culminated, not in…
Ver. 18. The Psalmist's sorrow had culminated, not in the fact that the ungodly prospered, but that God had arranged it so: had it happened by mere chance, he would have wondered, but could not have complained; but how the arranger of all things could so dispense his temporal favours, was the vexatious question. Here, to meet the case, he sees that the divine hand purposely placed these men in prosperous and eminent circumstances, not with the intent to bless them but the very reverse.
Surely thou didst set them in slippery places. Their position was dangerous, and, therefore, God did not set his friends there but his foes alone. He chose, in infinite love, a rougher but safer standing for his own beloved.
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Thou castedst them down into destruction. The same hand which led them up to their Tarpeian rock, hurled them down from it. They were but elevated by judicial arrangement for the fuller execution of their doom. Eternal punishment will be all the more terrible in contrast with the former prosperity of those who are ripening for it. Taken as a whole, the case of the ungodly is horrible throughout; and their worldly joy instead of diminishing the horror, actually renders the effect the more awful, even as the vivid lightning amid the storm does not brighten but intensify the thick darkness which lowers around. The ascent to the fatal gallows of Haman was an essential ingredient in the terror of the sentence--"hang him thereon." If the wicked had not been raised so high they could not have fallen so low.
Ver. 18. Slippery places. The word in the original signifies slick, or smooth, as ice or polished marble, and is from thence by a metaphor used for flattery. Hence, Abenezra renders it, In locis adulationis posuisti eos: thou hast set them in places of flattery. Edward Parry.
Ver. 18. They are but exalted, as the shellfish by the eagle, according to the naturalist, to be thrown down on some rock and devoured. Their most glorious prosperity is but like a rainbow, which showeth itself for a little time in all its gaudy colours, and then vanisheth. The Turks, considering the unhappy end of their viziers, use this proverb, "He that is in the greatest office is but a statue of glass." Wicked men walk on glass or ice, thou hast set them in slippery places; on a sudden their feet slip--they fall, and break their necks. George Swinnock.
Ver. 18,20. Their banqueting house is very slippery, and the feast itself a mere dream. Thomas Adams.
Ver. 18. Thou didst set them in slippery places.
I. It implies that they were always exposed to sudden,
unexpected destruction. As he that walks in
slippery places is every moment liable to fall, he
cannot foresee one moment whether he shall stand or
fall the next; and when he does fall, he falls at
once without warning.
II. They are liable to fall of themselves, without
being thrown down by the hand of another; as he that
stands or walks on slippery ground needs nothing but
his own weight to throw him down.
III. There is nothing that keeps wicked men at any one
moment out of hell but the mere pleasure of God. Jonathan Edwards.
Ver. 18-20. The end of the wicked is,
I. Near: Thou hast set, etc. It may happen at any
time.
II. Judicial: Thou bringest, etc.
III. Sudden: How are they, etc.
IV. Tormenting: They are utterly consumed, etc.
V. Eternal: Left to themselves; gone from the mind of
God; and disregarded as a dream when one awaketh. No
after act respecting them, either for deliverance or
annihilation.
Psalms 73:19*
Ver. 18,20. Their banqueting house is very slippery, and the feast itself a mere dream. Thomas Adams.
Ver. 18-20. The end of the wicked is,
I. Near: Thou hast set, etc. It may happen at any
time.
II. Judicial: Thou bringest, etc.
III. Sudden: How are they, etc.
IV. Tormenting: They are utterly consumed, etc.
V. Eternal: Left to themselves; gone from the mind of
God; and disregarded as a dream when one awaketh. No
after act respecting them, either for deliverance or
annihilation.
Charles H. Spurgeon's The Treasury of David (1869–1885) — public domain. Psalms only. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.
The Biblical Illustrator 1887 · Public Domain On v20 As a dream when one awaketh.
Psa_73:20
As a dream when one awaketh.
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The sleep and dream of ungodly men
I. The ungodly are asleep. Not physically but spiritually.
II. In this sleep they dream. They fancy the world and its joys are real, abiding, secure, satisfying.
III. At death they awake. Their all is in this world, and lo, death comes and strips them of all they valued, as a dream of one awaking. How much better to have this awakening here! (W. Harris.)
The Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell (c. 1880s–1900s) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
Alexander MacLaren 1905 · Public Domain On v20 Psa 17:15. - Psa 73:20.
Psalms
THE TWO AWAKINGS
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Psa 17:15. - Psa 73:20.
Both of these Psalms are occupied with that standing puzzle to Old Testament worthies-the good fortune of bad men, and the bad fortune of good ones. The former recounts the personal calamities of David, its author. The latter gives us the picture of the perplexity of Asaph its writer, when he ‘saw the prosperity of the wicked.’
And as the problem in both is substantially the same, the solution also is the same. David and Asaph both point onwards to a period when this confusing distribution of earthly good shall have ceased, though the one regards that period chiefly in its bearing upon himself as the time when he shall see God and be at rest, while the other thinks of it rather with reference to the godless rich as the time of their destruction.
In the details of this common expectation, also, there is a remarkable parallelism. Both describe the future to which they look as an awaking, and both connect with it, though in different ways and using different words, the metaphor of an image or likeness. In the one case, the future is conceived as the Psalmist’s awaking, and losing all the vain show of this dreamland of life, while he is at rest in beholding the appearance, and perhaps in receiving the likeness, of the one enduring Substance, God. In the other, it is thought of as God’s awaking, and putting to shame the fleeting shadow of well-being with which godless men befool themselves.
What this period of twofold awaking may be is a question on which good men and thoughtful students of Scripture differ. Without entering on the wide subject of the Jewish knowledge of a future state, it may be enough for the present purpose to say that the language of both these Psalms seems much too emphatic and high-pitched, to be fully satisfied by a reference to anything in this life. It certainly looks as if the great awaking which David puts in immediate contrast with the death of ‘men of this world,’ and which solaced his heart with the confident expectation of beholding God, of full satisfaction of all his being, and possibly even of wearing the divine likeness, pointed onwards, however dimly, to that ‘within the veil.’ And as for the other psalm, though the awaking of God is, no doubt, a Scriptural phrase for His ending of any period of probation and indulgence by an act of judgment, yet the strong words in which the context describes this awaking, as the ‘destruction’ and the ‘end’ of the godless, make it most natural to take it as here referring to the final close of the probation of life. That conclusion appears to be strengthened by the contrast which in subsequent verses is drawn between this ‘end’ of the worldling, and the poet’s hopes for himself of divine guidance in life, and afterwards of being taken {the same word as is used in the account of Enoch’s translation} by God into His presence and glory-hopes whose exuberance it is hard to confine within the limits of any changes possible for earth.
The doctrine of a future state never assumed the same prominence, nor possessed the same clearness in Israel as with us. There are great tracts of the Old Testament where it does not appear at all. This very difficulty, about the strange disproportion between character and circumstances, shows that the belief had not the same place with them as with us. But it gradually emerged into comparative distinctness. Revelation is progressive, and the appropriation of revelation is progressive too. There is a history of God’s self-manifestation, and there is a history of man’s reception of the manifestation. It seems to me that in these two psalms, as in other places of Old Testament Scripture, we see inspired men in the very course of being taught by God, on occasion of their earthly sorrows, the clearer hopes which alone could sustain them. They stood not where we stand, to whom Christ has ‘brought life and immortality to light’; but to their devout and perplexed souls, the dim regions beyond were partially opened, and though they beheld there a great darkness, they also ‘saw a great light.’ They saw all this solid world fade and melt, and behind its vanishing splendours they saw the glory of the God whom they loved, in the midst of which they felt that there must be a place for them, where eternal realities should fill their vision, and a stable inheritance satisfy their hearts.
The period, then, to which both David and Asaph look, in these two verses, is the end of life. The words of both, taken in combination, open out a series of aspects of that period which carry weighty lessons, and to which we turn now.
I. The first of these is that to all men the end of Life is an awaking.
The representation of death most widely diffused among all nations is that it is a sleep. The reasons for that emblem are easily found. We always try to veil the terror and deformity of the ugly thing by the thin robe of language. As with reverential awe, so with fear and disgust, the tendency is to wrap their objects in the folds of metaphor. Men prefer not to name plainly their god or their dread, but find roundabout phrases for the one, and coaxing, flattering titles for the other. The furies and the fates of heathenism, the supernatural beings of modern superstition, must not be spoken of by their own appellations. The recoil of men’s hearts from the thing is testified by the aversion of their languages to the bald name-death. And the employment of this special euphemism of sleep is a wonderful witness to our weariness of life, and to its endless toil and trouble. Everywhere that has seemed to be a comforting and almost an attractive name, which has promised full rest from all the agitations of this changeful scene. The prosperous and the wretched alike have owned the fatigue of living, and been conscious of a soothing expectance which became almost a hope, as they thought of lying still at last with folded hands and shut eyes. The wearied workers have bent over their dead, and felt that they are blest in this at all events, that they rest from their labours; and as they saw them absolved from all their tasks, have sought to propitiate the power that had made this ease for them, as well as to express their sense of its merciful aspect, by calling it not death, but sleep.
But that emblem, true and sweet as it is, is but half the truth. Taken as the whole, as indeed men are ever tempted to take it, it is a cheerless lie. It is truth for the senses-’the foolish senses,’ who ‘crown’ Death, as ‘Omega,’ the last, ‘the Lord,’ because ‘they find no motion in the dead.’ Rest, cessation of consciousness of the outer world, and of action upon it, are set forth by the figure. But even the figure might teach us that the consciousness of life, and the vivid exercise of thought and feeling, are not denied by it. Death is sleep. Be it so. But does not that suggest the doubt-’in that sleep, what dreams may come?’ Do we not all know that, when the chains of slumber bind sense, and the disturbance of the outer world is hushed, there are faculties of our souls which work more strongly than in our waking hours? We are all poets, ‘makers’ in our sleep. Memory and imagination open their eyes when flesh closes it. We can live through years in the dreams of a night; so swiftly can spirit move when even partially freed from ‘this muddy vesture of decay.’ That very phrase, then, which at first sight seems the opposite of the representation of our text, in reality is preparatory to and confirmatory of it. That very representation which has lent itself to cheerless and heathenish thoughts of death as the cessation not only of toil but of activity, is the basis of the deeper and truer representation, the truth for the spirit, that death is an awaking. If, on the one hand, we have to say, as we anticipate the approaching end of life, ‘The night cometh, when no man can work’; on the other the converse is true, ‘The night is far spent; the day is at hand.’
We shall sleep. Yes; but we shall wake too. We shall wake just because we sleep. For flesh and all its weakness, and all its disturbing strength, and craving importunities-for the outer world, and all its dissipating garish shows, and all its sullen resistance to our hand-for weariness, and fevered activity and toil against the grain of our tastes, too great for our strength, disappointing in its results, the end is blessed, calm sleep. And precisely because it is so, therefore for our true selves, for heart and mind, for powers that lie dormant in the lowest, and are not stirred into full action in the highest, souls; for all that universe of realities which encompass us undisclosed, and known only by faint murmurs which pierce through the opiate sleep of life, the end shall be an awaking.
The truth which corresponds to this metaphor, and which David felt when he said, ‘I shall be satisfied when I awake,’ is that the spirit, because emancipated from the body, shall spring into greater intensity of action, shall put forth powers that have been held down here and shall come into contact with an order of things which here it has but indirectly known. To our true selves and to God we shall wake. Here we are like men asleep in some chamber that looks towards the eastern sky. Morning by morning comes the sunrise, with the tender glory of its rosy light and blushing heavens, and the heavy eyes are closed to it all. Here and there some lighter sleeper, with thinner eyelids or face turned to the sun, is half conscious of a vague brightness, and feels the light, though he sees not the colours of the sky nor the forms of the filmy clouds. Such souls are our saints and prophets, but most of us sleep on unconscious. To us all the moment comes when we shall wake and see for ourselves the bright and terrible world which we have so often forgotten, and so often been tempted to think was itself a dream. Brethren, see to it that that awaking be for you the beholding of what you have loved, the finding, in the sober certainty of waking bliss, of all the objects which have been your visions of delight in the sleep of earth.
This life of ours hides more than it reveals. The day shows the sky as solitary but for wandering clouds that cover its blue emptiness. But the night peoples its waste places with stars, and fills all its abysses with blazing glories. ‘If light so much conceals, wherefore not life?’ Let us hold fast by a deeper wisdom than is born of sense; and though men, nowadays, seem to be willing to go back to the ‘eternal sleep’ of the most unspiritual heathenism, and to cast away all that Christ has brought us concerning that world where He has been and whence He has returned, because positive science and the anatomist’s scalpel preach no gospel of a future, let us try to feel as well as to believe that it is life, with all its stunted capacities and idle occupation with baseless fabrics, which is the sleep, and that for us all the end of it is-to awake.
II. The second principle contained in our text is that death is to some men the awaking of God.
‘When Thou awakest, Thou shalt despise their image.’ Closely rendered, the former clause would read simply ‘in awaking,’ without any specifying of the person, which is left to be gathered from the succeeding words. But there is no doubt that the English version fills the blank correctly by referring the awaking to God.
The metaphor is not infrequent in the Old Testament, and, like many others applying to the divine nature, is saved from any possibility of misapprehension by the very boldness of its materialism. It has a well-marked and uniform meaning. God ‘awakes’ when He ends an epoch of probation and long-suffering mercy by an act or period of judgment. So far, then, as the mere expression is concerned, there may be nothing more meant here than the termination by a judicial act in this life, of the transient ‘prosperity of the wicked.’ Any divinely-sent catastrophe which casts the worldly rich man down from his slippery eminence would satisfy the words. But the emphatic context seems, as already pointed out, to require that they should be referred to that final crash which irrevocably separates him who has ‘his portion in this life,’ from all which he calls his ‘goods.’
If so, then the whole period of earthly existence is regarded as the time of God’s gracious forbearance and mercy; and the time of death is set forth as the instant when sterner elements of the divine dealings start into greater prominence. Life here is predominantly, though not exclusively, the field for the manifestation of patient love, not willing that any should perish. To the godless soul, immersed in material things, and blind to the light of God’s wooing love, the transition to that other form of existence is likewise the transition to the field for the manifestation of the retributive energy of God’s righteousness. Here and now His judgment on the whole slumbers. The consequences of our deeds are inherited, indeed, in many a merciful sorrow, in many a paternal chastisement, in many a partial exemplification of the wages of sin as death. But the harvest is not fully grown nor ripened yet; it is not reaped in all its extent; the bitter bread is not baked and eaten as it will have to be. Nor are men’s consciences so awakened that they connect the retribution, which does befall them, with its causes in their own actions, as closely as they will do when they are removed from the excitement of life and the deceit of its dreams. ‘Sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily.’ For the long years of our stay here, God’s seeking love lingers round every one of us, yearning over us, besetting us behind and before, courting us with kindnesses, lavishing on us its treasures, seeking to win our poor love. It is sometimes said that this is a state of probation. But that phrase suggests far too cold an idea. God does not set us here as on a knife edge, with abysses on either side ready to swallow us if we stumble, while He stands apart watching for our halting, and unhelpful to our tottering feebleness. He compasses us with His love and its gifts, He draws us to Himself, and desires that we should stand. He offers all the help of His angels to hold us up. ‘He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber.’ The judgment sleeps; the loving forbearance, the gracious aid wake. Shall we not yield to His perpetual pleadings, and, moved by the mercies of God, let His conquering love thaw our cold hearts into streams of thankfulness and self-devotion?
But remember, that that predominantly merciful and long-suffering character of God’s present dealing affords no guarantee that there will not come a time when His slumbering judgment will stir to waking. The same chapter which tells us that ‘He is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance,’ goes on immediately to repel the inference that therefore a period of which retribution shall be the characteristic is impossible, by the solemn declaration, ‘But the day of the Lord shall come as a thief in the night.’ His character remains ever the same, the principles of His government are unalterable, but there may be variations in the prominence given in His acts, to the several principles of the one, and the various though harmonious phases of the other. The method may be changed, the purpose may remain unchanged. And the Bible, which is our only source of knowledge on the subject, tells us that the method is changed, in so far as to intensify the vigour of the operation of retributive justice after death, so that men who have been compassed with ‘the loving-kindness of the Lord,’ and who die leaving worldly things, and keeping worldly hearts, will have to confront ‘the terror of the Lord.’
The alternation of epochs of tolerance and destruction is in accordance with the workings of God’s providence here and now. For though the characteristic of that providence as we see it is merciful forbearance, yet we are not left without many a premonition of the mighty final ‘day of the Lord.’ For long years or centuries a nation or an institution goes on slowly departing from truth, forgetting the principles on which it rests, or the purposes for which it exists. Patiently God pleads with the evil-doers, lavishes gifts and warnings upon them. He holds back the inevitable avenging as long as restoration is yet possible-and His eye and heart see it to be possible long after men conclude that the corruption is hopeless. But at last comes a period when He says, ‘I have long still holden My peace, and refrained Myself, now will I destroy’; and with a crash one more hoary iniquity disappears from the earth which it has burdened so long. For sixty times sixty slow, throbbing seconds, the silent hand creeps unnoticed round the dial and then, with whirr and clang, the bell rings out, and another hour of the world’s secular day is gone. The billows of the thunder-cloud slowly gather into vague form, and slowly deepen in lurid tints, and slowly roll across the fainting blue; they touch-and then the fierce flash, like the swift hand on the palace-wall of Babylon, writes its message of destruction over all the heaven at once. We know enough from the history of men and nations since Sodom till to-day, to recognise it as God’s plan to alternate long patience and ‘sudden destruction’:-
‘The mills of God grind slowly,
But they grind exceeding small’;
and every such instance confirms the expectation of the coming of that great and terrible day of the Lord, whereof all epochs of convulsion and ruin, all falls of Jerusalem, and Roman empires, Reformations, and French Revolutions, and American wars, all private and personal calamities which come from private wrong-doing, are but feeble precursors. ‘When Thou awakest, Thou wilt despise their image.’
Brethren, do we use aright this goodness of God which is the characteristic of the present? Are we ready for that judgment which is the mark of the future?
III. Death is the annihilation of the vain show of worldly life.
The word rendered image is properly shadow, and hence copy or likeness, and hence image. Here, however, the simpler meaning is the better. ‘Thou shalt despise their shadow.’ The men are shadows, and all their goods are not what they are called, their ‘substance,’ but their shadow, a mere appearance, not a reality. That show of good which seems but is not, is withered up by the light of the awaking God. What He despises cannot live.
So there are the two old commonplaces of moralists set forth in these grand words-the unsatisfying character of all merely external delights and possessions, and also their transitory character. They are non-substantial and non-permanent.
Nothing that is without a man can make him rich or restful. The treasures which are kept in coffers are not real, but only those which are kept in the soul. Nothing which cannot enter into the substance of the life and character can satisfy us. That which we are makes us rich or poor, that which we own is a trifle.
There is no congruity between any outward thing and man’s soul, of such a kind as that satisfaction can come from its possession. ‘Cisterns that can hold no water,’ ‘that which is not bread,’ ‘husks that the swine did eat’-these are not exaggerated phrases for the good gifts which God gives for our delight, and which become profitless and delusive by our exclusive attachment to them. There is no need for exaggeration. These worldly possessions have a good in them, they contribute to ease and grace in life, they save from carking cares and mean anxieties, they add many a comfort and many a source of culture. But, after all, a true, lofty life may be lived with a very small modicum. There is no proportion between wealth and happiness, nor between wealth and nobleness. The fairest life that ever lived on earth was that of a poor Man, and with all its beauty it moved within the limits of narrow resources. The loveliest blossoms do not grow on plants that plunge their greedy roots into the fattest soil. A little light earth in the crack of a hard rock will do. We need enough for the physical being to root itself in; we need no more.
Young men! especially you who are plunged into the busy life of our great commercial centres, and are tempted by everything you see, and by most that you hear, to believe that a prosperous trade and hard cash are the realities, and all else mist and dreams, fix this in your mind to begin life with-God is the reality, all else is shadow. Do not make it your ambition to get on, but to get up. ‘Having food and raiment, let us be content.’ Seek for your life’s delight and treasure in thought, in truth, in pure affections, in moderate desires, in a spirit set on God. These are the realities of our possessions. As for all the rest, it is sham and show.
And while thus all without is unreal, it is also fleeting as the shadows of the flying clouds; and when God awakes, it disappears as they before the noonlight that clears the heavens. All things that are, are on condition of perpetual flux and change. The cloud-rack has the likeness of bastions and towers, but they are mist, not granite, and the wind is every moment sweeping away their outlines, till the phantom fortress topples into red ruin while we gaze. The tiniest stream eats out its little valley and rounds the pebble in its widening bed, rain washes down the soil, and frost cracks the cliffs above. So silently and yet mightily does the law of change work that to a meditative eye the solid earth seems almost molten and fluid, and the everlasting mountains tremble to decay.
‘Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not?’ Are we going to be such fools as to fix our hopes and efforts upon this fleeting order of things, which can give no delight more lasting than itself? Even whilst we are in it, it continueth not in one stay, and we are in it for such a little while! Then comes what our text calls God’s awaking, and where is it all then? Gone like a ghost at cockcrow. Why! a drop of blood on your brain or a crumb of bread in your windpipe, and as far as you are concerned the outward heavens and earth ‘pass away with a great’ silence, as the impalpable shadows that sweep over some lone hillside.
‘The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate,
Death lays his icy hand on kings.’
What an awaking to a worldly man that awaking of God will be! ‘As when a hungry man dreameth, and behold he eateth, but he awaketh and his soul is empty.’ He has thought he fed full, and was rich and safe, but in one moment he is dragged from it all, and finds himself a starving pauper, in an order of things for which he has made no provision. ‘When he dieth, he shall carry nothing away.’ Let us see to it that not in utter nakedness do we go hence, but clothed with that immortal robe, and rich in those possessions that cannot be taken away from us, which they have who have lived on earth as heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ. Let us pierce, for the foundation of our life’s house, beneath the shifting sands of time down to the Rock of Ages, and build there.
IV. Finally, death is for some men the annihilation of the vain shows in order to reveal the great reality.
‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with Thy likeness.’
‘Likeness’ is properly ‘form,’ and is the same word which is employed in reference to Moses, who saw ‘the similitude of the Lord.’ If there be, as is most probable, an allusion to that ancient vision in these words, then the ‘likeness’ is not that conformity to the divine character which it is the goal of our hopes to possess, but the beholding of His self-manifestation. The parallelism of the verse also points to such an interpretation.
If so, then, we have here the blessed confidence that when all the baseless fabric of the dream of life has faded from our opening eyes, we shall see the face of our ever-loving God. Here the distracting whirl of earthly things obscures Him from even the devoutest souls, and His own mighty works which reveal do also conceal. In them is the hiding as well as the showing of His power. But there the veil which draped the perfect likeness, and gave but dim hints through its heavy swathings of the outline of immortal beauty that lay beneath, shall fall away. No longer befooled by shadows, we shall possess the true substance; no longer bedazzled by shows, we shall behold the reality.
And seeing God we shall be satisfied. With all lesser joys the eye is not satisfied with seeing, but to look on Him will be enough. Enough for mind and heart, wearied and perplexed with partial knowledge and imperfect love; enough for eager desires, which thirst, after all draughts from other streams; enough for will, chafing against lower lords and yet longing for authoritative control; enough for all my being-to see God. Here we can rest after all wanderings, and say, ‘I travel no further; here will I dwell for ever-I shall be satisfied.’
And may these dim hopes not suggest to us too some presentiment of the full Christian truth of assimilation dependent on vision, and of vision reciprocally dependent on likeness? ‘We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is,’-words which reach a height that David but partially discerned through the mist. This much he knew, that he should in some transcendent sense behold the manifested God; and this much more, that it must be ‘in righteousness’ that he should gaze upon that face. The condition of beholding the Holy One was holiness. We know that the condition of holiness is trust in Christ. And as we reckon up the rich treasure of our immortal hopes, our faith grows bold, and pauses not even at the lofty certainty of God without us, known directly and adequately, but climbs to the higher assurance of God within us, flooding our darkness with His great light, and changing us into the perfect copies of His express Image, His only-begotten Son. ‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with Thy likeness,’ cries the prophet Psalmist. ‘It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master,’ responds the Christian hope.
Brethren! take heed that the process of dissipating the vain shows of earth be begun betimes in your souls. It must either be done by Faith, whose rod disenchants them into their native nothingness, and then it is blessed; or it must be done by death, whose mace smites them to dust, and then it is pure, irrevocable loss and woe. Look away from, or rather look through, things that are seen to the King eternal, invisible. Let your hearts seek Christ, and your souls cleave to Him. Then death will take away nothing from you that you would care to keep, but will bring you your true joy. It will but trample to fragments the ‘dome of many-coloured glass’ that ‘stains the white radiance of eternity.’ Looking forward calmly to that supreme hour, you will be able to say, ‘I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.’ Looking back upon it from beyond, and wondering to find how brief it was, and how close to Him whom you love it has brought you, your now immortal lips touched by the rising Sun of the heavenly morning will thankfully exclaim, ‘When I awake, I am still with Thee.’
Alexander MacLaren, Expositions of Holy Scripture (1904–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.
unfoldingWord translationNotes 2017 · CC BY-SA 4.0 On v18 put them
put them
The word "them" refers to the wicked.
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slippery places
"unsafe or unstable ground." See how "slipped" is translated in Psalms 73:2.
How they become a wilderness in a moment
The word "wilderness" is a metaphor for a person who has lost everything good. AT: "How quickly they are destroyed" (See: Metaphor)
like a dream after one wakes up
The wicked will last no longer than what a person sees in a dream. It disappears as soon as the person wakes up. (See: Simile)
translationWords
ruin
desert
terror
lord
dream
unfoldingWord translationNotes — © Distant Shores Media and the Door43 World Missions Community, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Source: git.door43.org/Door43/en_tn.