Holiness excludes immorality, but morality does not amount to holiness; for morality may be but the cleaning of the outside of the cup and the platter, while the heart may be full of wickedness.
C.H. Spurgeon

Spurgeon PS133

Spurgeon PS133

EXPOSITION.

But now prayer lifteth up her voice, like the watchman who proclaims the daybreak. Now will the tide turn, and the weeper shall dry his eyes. The mercy-seat is the life of hope and the death of despair. The gloomy thought of God’s having forsaken him is still upon the Psalmist’s soul, and he therefore cries, “_Consider and hear me_.” He remembers at once the root of his woe, and cries aloud that it may be removed. The final absence of God is Tophet’s fire, and his temporary absence brings his people into the very suburbs of hell. God is here entreated to _see_ and _hear_, that so he may be doubly moved to pity. What should we do if we had no God to turn to in the hour of wretchedness?

Note the cry of faith, “_O Lord MY God!_” Is it not a very glorious fact that our interest in our God is not destroyed by all our trials and sorrows? We may lose our gourds, but not our God. The title-deed of heaven is not written in the sand, but in eternal brass.

“_Lighten mine eyes_:” that is, let the eye of my faith be clear, that I may see my God in the dark; let my eye of watchfulness be wide open, lest I be entrapped, and let the eye of my understanding be illuminated to see the right way. Perhaps, too, here is an allusion to that cheering of the spirits so frequently called the enlightening of the eyes because it causes the face to brighten, and the eyes to sparkle. Well may we use the prayer, “Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord!” for in many respects we need the Holy Spirit’s illuminating rays. “_Lest I sleep the sleep of death_.” Darkness engenders sleep, and despondency is not slow in making the eyes heavy. From this faintness and dimness of vision, caused by despair, there is but a step to the iron sleep of death. David feared that his trials would end his life, and he rightly uses his fear as an argument with God in prayer; for deep distress has in it a kind of claim upon compassion, not a claim of right, but a plea which has power with grace. Under the pressure of heart sorrow, the Psalmist does not look forward to the sleep of death with hope and joy, as assured believers do, but he shrinks from it with dread, from which we gather that bondage from fear of death is no new thing.

Another plea is urged in the fourth verse, and it is one which the tried believer may handle well when on his knees. We make use of our arch-enemy for once, and compel him, like Samson, to grind in our mill while we use his cruel arrogance as an argument in prayer. It is not the Lord’s will that the great enemy of our souls should overcome his children. This would dishonour God, and cause the evil one to boast. It is well for us that our salvation and God’s honour are so intimately connected, that they stand or fall together.

Our covenant God will complete the confusion of all our enemies, and if for awhile we become their scoff and jest, the day is coming when the shame will change sides, and the contempt shall be poured on those to whom it is due.

EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS.

Verse 3.–“_Lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death_.” In time of sickness and grief, the “eyes” are dull and heavy; and they grow more and more so as death approaches, which closes them in darkness. On the other hand, health and joy render the organs of vision bright and sparkling, seeming, as it were, to impart “light” to them from within. The words, therefore, may be fitly applied to a recovery of the body natural, and thence, of the body politic, from their respective maladies. Nor do they less significantly describe the restoration of the soul to a state of spiritual health and holy joy, which will manifest themselves in like manner, by “the eyes of the understanding being enlightened;” and in this case, the soul is saved from the sleep of sin, as the body is in the other, from the sleep of death.–^George Horne.

Verse 3.–Why dost _thou hide thy face_? happily thou wilt say, None can see thy face and live. Ah, Lord, let me die, that I may see thee; let me see thee, that I may die: I would not live, but die; that I may see Christ, I desire death; that I may live with Christ, I despise life.–^Augustine.

Verse 3.–“_How long wilt thou hide thy face from me_?” Oh, excellent hiding, which is become my perfection! My God, thou hidest thy treasure to kindle my desire! Thou hidest thy pearl, to inflame the seeker; thou delayest to give, that thou mayest teach me to importune; seemest not to hear, to make me persevere.–^John Anselem, 1034-1109. Verse 4.– Ah! can you bear contempt; the venom’d tongue Of those whom ruin pleases, the keen sneer, The lewd reproaches of the rascal herd; Who for the selfsame actions, if successful, Would be as grossly lavish in your praise? To sum up all in one–can you support The scornful glances, the malignant joy, Or more detested pity of a rival– Of a triumphant rival?

^James Thomson, 1700-1748.

Verse 4.–“_And those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved_”–compose comedies out of my tragedies.–^John Trapp.

HINTS TO PREACHERS.

Verse 3.–By accommodating the text to the believer. I. True character of Satan, “enemy.” II. Remarkable fact that his enemy is exalted over us. III. Pressing enquiry, “How long?”–^B. Davis.

Verse 3.–“_Lighten mine eyes_.” A prayer fit for (1) Every benighted sinner. (2) Every seeker of salvation. (3) Every learner in Christ’s school. (4) Every tried believer. (5) Every dying saint.–^B. Davis.

Verse 4.–Noteth the nature of the wicked two ways; namely, the more they prevail the more insolent they are; they wonderfully exult over those that are afflicted.–^T. Wilcocks.