Commentary - Psalm 39:1-3

Bird's-eye view

In these opening verses of Psalm 39, David presents us with a spiritual pressure cooker. He begins with a noble, pious, and seemingly wise resolution: he will muzzle his mouth to keep from sinning, particularly when the wicked are watching. This is a man who understands the destructive power of the tongue. But his self-imposed gag order is an over-correction. In his zeal to avoid saying the wrong thing, he refrains from saying anything at all, even what is good. The result is not peace, but a building internal agony. His sorrow ferments within him until his heart is hot and the meditations of his mind catch fire. The pressure becomes unbearable, and the dam must break. What we see here is the failure of a man-made strategy for holiness, which then gives way to the only true release valve for the righteous man under pressure: crying out to God.


Outline


Context In Psalms

Psalm 39 is one of the penitential psalms, but it is also a wisdom psalm, grappling with the transient nature of life and the seeming prosperity of the wicked. David is a man under immense pressure, both from his enemies and from his own internal wrestling with God's providence. This psalm is the prayer that erupts after the failed experiment in stoic silence described in our text. He tried to handle the problem by shutting down, by refusing to engage. But a man whose heart is full of the knowledge of God cannot simply go silent in the face of wickedness without doing violence to his own soul. The rest of the psalm is the torrent of words that had been building behind the dam: a raw, honest, and ultimately faithful plea to the only one who can make sense of it all.


Key Issues


1 I said, "I will keep watch over my ways That I may not sin with my tongue; I will keep watch over my mouth as with a muzzle While the wicked are in my presence."

David begins with a resolution, and it is a good one. He says, "I will keep watch over my ways." This is the language of a man who takes his sanctification seriously. He is not drifting through life; he is on guard. And he identifies a particular point of vulnerability, a common one for all the sons of Adam: his tongue. James tells us the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, and the man who can bridle his tongue is a perfect man. David knows this. He is determined "That I may not sin with my tongue." So far, so good.

He even gets specific about his strategy. "I will keep watch over my mouth as with a muzzle." This is a striking image. A muzzle is not a gentle reminder; it is a restraining device, used to prevent an animal from biting. David recognizes the feral nature of his own tongue. He knows that in certain situations, it needs to be forcibly restrained. And what is the specific situation? "While the wicked are in my presence." This is key. He is not talking about a silent retreat. He is talking about being surrounded by scoffers, by God-haters, by men who would twist his words and use them as ammunition against him and against his God. He does not want to cast his pearls before swine. He does not want to get into a fruitless, fleshly argument that ends with him sinning in his anger. This is a commendable and prudent battle plan.


2 I was mute with silence, I even kept silent from speaking good, And my anguish grew worse.

Here we see the plan go awry. The muzzle was too effective. The discipline became a deadening paralysis. "I was mute with silence." The Hebrew here is emphatic; it is a silence of silences. He did not just stop sinning with his tongue; he stopped using it altogether. And this is where we see the fatal flaw in his strategy. He says, "I even kept silent from speaking good." It is one thing to refrain from reviling when you are reviled. It is another thing entirely to refrain from praising God, from speaking truth, from encouraging the righteous, simply because a wicked man is within earshot. This is an over-correction born of fear. He was so afraid of saying the wrong thing that he refused to say the right thing. He let the presence of the wicked dictate the terms of his speech, which is to say, he let them silence him completely.

And what was the result of this stoic self-control? Peace? Serenity? No. "And my anguish grew worse." The word for anguish here means pain or sorrow. By bottling it all up, he did not make the problem go away. He made it fester. When a man of God, who knows the truth, refuses to speak it, that truth begins to burn within him. When he sees injustice and holds his peace, that silence becomes a heavy burden. David's attempt to control his tongue by shutting it down completely was a spiritual disaster. It was like trying to cap a volcano. The pressure only builds.


3 My heart was hot within me, While I meditated the fire was burning; Then I spoke with my tongue:

The internal pressure reaches its breaking point. "My heart was hot within me." This is not the warmth of gentle devotion. This is the heat of a furnace. It is the heat of righteous indignation, of spiritual frustration, of a zeal for God's honor that has been suppressed and has nowhere to go. It is the pain of a profound disconnect between what he knows to be true and the wicked reality he is witnessing, a reality he has forbidden himself from addressing.

And what stoked this fire? "While I meditated the fire was burning." His silence was not an empty-headed silence. He was thinking. He was meditating on God's law, on God's promises, on the arrogance of the wicked, on the brevity of life. And the more he thought, the hotter the fire got. This is the opposite of worldly meditation, which seeks to empty the mind. Biblical meditation fills the mind with truth, and when that truth collides with a world in rebellion, it creates friction. It creates fire. Eventually, something has to give. "Then I spoke with my tongue." The dam breaks. The muzzle is off. The silence is shattered. And notice where he directs his speech. He does not turn to the wicked to debate them. The pressure forces him upward, to God. The rest of the psalm is what comes pouring out. His failed attempt at self-control gives way to a desperate, honest, and ultimately faithful prayer. He learns that the answer to the temptation to sin with his tongue is not to stop speaking, but to start speaking to God.


Application

We live in a world where the wicked are very much in our presence. They are on our screens, in our workplaces, and in our government. And so the temptation David faced is very much our own. The first lesson here is that a simple, grim-faced determination to "not sin" by shutting up is a losing strategy. It is an attempt at sanctification by subtraction, and it leads to spiritual constipation and a sour heart.

When we see the madness of the world, when we are provoked by the blasphemies and absurdities of our age, the answer is not to put a muzzle on it and pretend we do not see. That will only make our anguish grow worse. The answer is to let the meditation on God's Word make our hearts hot. We should be bothered. We should feel the heat. That fire is a gift, intended to drive us to our knees.

The proper response to the pressure of a hostile world is not sullen silence, but robust prayer. We must learn, like David, to take the heat that builds within us and aim it at the throne of grace. We speak to God about the wicked. We speak to God about our own frailty. We speak to God about His glory. And when we have spoken rightly to God, He will then give us the wisdom to know when and how to speak to men.