Commentary - Psalm 43:3-4

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 43 is the desperate cry of a man who feels abandoned by God and oppressed by deceitful men, yet it concludes with a resolute turn toward worship. This psalm is most likely a continuation of Psalm 42, sharing the same refrain and themes of spiritual depression and longing for God's presence. The psalmist is in exile, away from the place of corporate worship, and he is slandered by an "ungodly nation." In this state of turmoil, he does not look for an internal source of strength or a political solution. Instead, his prayer is a plea for a divine intervention that will lead him back to the one place that matters: the presence of God, symbolized by the altar. The psalm moves from a plea for justice ("Vindicate me, O God") to a profound request for guidance, culminating in the confident hope of joyful worship. It teaches us that the ultimate answer to our deepest despair and the injustices we suffer is not simply a change in circumstance, but a restored access to God Himself, who is our "exceeding joy."

The central movement of these verses is from disorientation to reorientation. The psalmist is lost in a fog of oppression and confusion. His prayer is for God to send out two divine guides, Light and Truth, to cut through that fog and lead him home. And where is home? Not just a geographical location, but a theological reality: God’s holy mountain, His dwelling places, His altar. The goal of deliverance is worship. The purpose of salvation is to bring us to a place where we can offer joyful praise to God. This is not about escaping trouble so we can get back to our own lives; it is about being rescued from trouble so that we can get back to God, who is our life.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 43 lacks its own superscription and is widely considered to be the third and final stanza of the song begun in Psalm 42. Both psalms share the identical refrain, "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God" (Ps 42:5, 11; 43:5). The themes are seamlessly connected: the psalmist is suffering, taunted by enemies, and, most painfully, feels a profound distance from the house of God where he once experienced joyful worship. Psalm 42 expresses the deep thirst of his soul for the living God. Psalm 43 continues this prayer but shifts the focus from the internal longing to an external plea for God to act, to judge his cause, and to lead him back. Together, they form a powerful portrait of faith under duress, where the believer preaches to his own soul, reminding himself of the ultimate reality of God's presence and the certainty of future praise, even when current feelings and circumstances suggest the opposite.

Key Issues

The Geography of Salvation

When we are lost, we need a guide and a destination. The psalmist understands this in the deepest possible way. He is spiritually and emotionally lost, cast down and in turmoil. He is also physically displaced, away from Jerusalem. His prayer is therefore framed in geographical terms. He asks for guides, "light and truth," and a destination, "Your holy mountain." This is not just poetic language. For the Old Testament saint, God's presence was uniquely associated with a physical place: Zion, the temple, the altar. To be cut off from that place was to be cut off from the manifest presence of God and the life of the covenant community.

But this points us forward. The writer to the Hebrews tells us that we have not come to a mountain that can be touched, but to Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem (Heb. 12:22). The light and truth that the psalmist prayed for have been fully and finally sent out in the person of Jesus Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life. He is the one who leads us not to a physical temple in Jerusalem, but into the very presence of the Father. The geography of salvation is now Christ Himself. He is the place where we meet God. He is the altar and the sacrifice. The entire longing of this psalm finds its ultimate fulfillment when we, by faith, are brought to God through Him.

Verse by Verse Commentary

3 Oh send out Your light and Your truth, let them lead me;

The psalmist, surrounded by the darkness of deceit and injustice (v. 1), does not ask for abstract enlightenment. He asks for God to dispatch two of His chief attributes as personal guides. Light here is God's favor, His revealing presence that dispels darkness and confusion. Truth is God's faithfulness, His covenant reliability that cuts through the lies of his enemies. He personifies them, asking that they be sent out like a search party to find him in his exile and lead him home. This is a profound recognition that we cannot find our way back to God on our own. We are lost, and we need God to take the initiative. He must send forth His own character, His own nature, to rescue us. In the New Testament, we see the ultimate answer to this prayer. Jesus Christ is the Light of the World (John 8:12) and the Truth incarnate (John 14:6). God did not just send principles; He sent a Person to lead us out of darkness and into His marvelous light.

Let them bring me to Your holy mountain And to Your dwelling places.

The guidance of light and truth has a specific destination. For the psalmist, this was Mount Zion in Jerusalem, the place God had chosen to place His name. The "holy mountain" was the center of Israel's worship and national life. The "dwelling places" or tabernacles refer to the sanctuary itself, the temple complex. This was not a desire for real estate, but for the presence of God that was manifested there. He longed to be back in the assembly of the saints, participating in the covenant renewal worship that happened there. This is a rebuke to all forms of privatized, individualistic spirituality. The goal of God's rescue is to bring us into His house, among His people. He saves individuals, but He saves them into a family, a congregation, a city. The destination is corporate.

4 Then I will go to the altar of God,

Once he arrives at the holy mountain, what is the first thing he will do? He will go to the altar. The journey's end is the place of sacrifice and communion. The altar was the heart of the temple; it was where atonement was made and where God met with His people. To approach the altar was to approach God Himself on the terms He had established. All true worship must come by way of the altar. For us, this means we come to God only through the finished work of Jesus Christ. He is our altar, and His self-offering is the basis of our acceptance. We cannot rush into God's presence on our own terms. We must come by the blood. The psalmist’s desire to go to the altar is a desire for restored fellowship with God, made possible through sacrifice.

To God my exceeding joy;

Here the psalmist defines what he finds when he comes to the altar. He finds God. And what is God to him? Not a stern taskmaster, not a distant deity, but his "exceeding joy." The Hebrew is emphatic, something like "the God of the gladness of my joy." God is not just the source of his joy; God is his joy. This is the pinnacle of the Christian life. We are saved not merely from hell, but to God. He is the great reward. Our ultimate happiness is not found in His gifts, but in Him. The psalmist's circumstances are still miserable, but his hope is fixed on the one who is joy itself. This is why he can preach to his own soul to hope in God. He knows that a moment in the presence of his exceeding joy will make all his current sorrows seem small.

And upon the lyre I shall praise You, O God, my God.

The response to encountering God as our exceeding joy is always praise, and this praise is often musical. The psalmist vows that when he is restored, he will take up his lyre, a stringed instrument, and give thanks. This is not a detached, intellectual acknowledgment. It is embodied, heartfelt, artistic worship. The joy that God gives fills the whole person and overflows in song. Notice the personal appropriation at the end: "O God, my God." The God of the altar, the God who is exceeding joy, is my God. The covenant is personal. The relationship is intimate. His deliverance will result in public, musical, personal testimony. Great deliverance is the mother of great music. God brings us through trials so that He can put a new song in our mouths, a song of praise to our God.

Application

This psalm gives us a divine roadmap for dealing with spiritual depression and the injustices of the world. First, we must cry out to God for what we cannot generate ourselves: His light and His truth. We must ask Him to lead us, to cut through our confusion and the lies of the culture. We must stop trying to navigate in the dark by our own wits.

Second, we must have the right destination in mind. Our goal in the Christian life is not comfort, or success, or even personal happiness as the world defines it. Our goal is God Himself. We are being led to His holy hill, to His altar. This means our lives should be oriented toward worship, specifically the corporate gathering of the saints. Is the Lord's Day worship the high point of your week? Do you long for it like the psalmist longed for the tabernacles of God? If not, your heart is aimed at the wrong mountain.

Finally, we must learn to see God as our "exceeding joy." He is not a means to an end. He is the end. When we come to Him through Christ our altar, we find a joy that is unshakable, a joy that can sustain us through any trial. And that joy must come out. It must be expressed in robust, cheerful, and often musical praise. We are to be a people who sing, a people who take up the lyre and the guitar and the piano and our own voices to thank the one who is "God, my God." If your soul is cast down, do not look inward. Look upward and forward. Pray for God's light and truth to lead you to the altar, and there you will find Him who is your exceeding joy.