Commentary - Psalm 71:19-24

Bird's-eye view

In this final section of Psalm 71, the psalmist, an aged saint who has walked with God his entire life, pivots from petition to high praise. Having recounted God's lifelong faithfulness and pleaded for continued deliverance from his enemies, he now erupts in a crescendo of worship. This is not praise born from easy circumstances, but rather a rugged, tested faith that has seen "many troubles and evils" and yet anticipates glorious revival and vindication. The structure is a beautiful movement from acknowledging God's transcendent righteousness to a personal, heartfelt vow of public praise. It is a testimony that true worship is rooted in the character of God and fueled by the experience of His redemption, culminating in a life that declares His righteousness "all day long."

The passage moves from the greatness of God (v. 19) to the greatness of God's work in the psalmist's own life, past, present, and future (vv. 20-21). This then overflows into a commitment to musical, joyful, and continual praise (vv. 22-24). It is a model for every believer, showing that a right view of God's cosmic righteousness must translate into a personal testimony of His saving power, which in turn must break forth into audible, glad-hearted worship that puts the enemies of God to shame.

Outline

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 19 For Your righteousness, O God, reaches to the heavens, You who have done great things; O God, who is like You?

The psalmist begins his praise by looking up. Before he considers his own circumstances, he considers the character of God. This is the only right starting place for worship. "Your righteousness, O God, reaches to the heavens." This is not a human righteousness we are talking about, a spotty, inconsistent thing that we try to patch together. This is a righteousness that is as vast and high and unattainable as the heavens themselves. It is the very standard of justice and goodness in the universe. It is perfect, absolute, and transcendent. Paul tells us that we are to be found in Christ, not having a righteousness of our own, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith (Phil. 3:9). The psalmist here is adoring the very thing that is later revealed to be our only hope of salvation.

"You who have done great things." This towering righteousness is not an abstract philosophical concept. It is active. It does things. God's character is demonstrated in His actions. Creation, the flood, the exodus, the giving of the law, the conquest of Canaan, these are the "great things" an Old Testament saint would have in mind. For us, looking back from this side of the cross, the greatest of these things is the sending of His Son to die and rise again. God's righteousness was most clearly displayed not in sparing His Son, but in crushing Him for our iniquities. That is a great and terrible and glorious thing.

"O God, who is like You?" This is the natural, logical, and doxological conclusion. When you rightly apprehend the righteousness of God and the works of God, the only possible response is to confess His utter uniqueness. This is not a question seeking information; it is a rhetorical question that is itself the highest form of praise. The idols of the nations? They are nothing. The philosophies of men? They are dust. The powers and principalities? They are created beings, and He is the Creator. There is none like Jehovah.

v. 20 You, who have shown me many troubles and evils, Will revive me again, And will bring me up again from the depths of the earth.

Here the psalmist brings that high theology down to the dirt of his own life. Notice the stark realism. "You, who have shown me many troubles and evils." He does not pretend that the life of faith is a walk in the park. He doesn't say, "You, who have kept me from all trouble." No, he says God has shown him these troubles. This is a crucial point of biblical theism. God is sovereign over the good times and the bad. He is not a fair-weather God who helps out when He can. He is the God who ordains the trial for the sake of the triumph that will follow. Joseph told his brothers, "You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (Gen. 50:20). The psalmist understands this principle. The troubles are many, and they are evil, but they are shown to him by his faithful God.

"Will revive me again." This is the language of resurrection. The troubles have brought him low, to the very point of death. But his faith is not in his own strength to endure, but in God's power to make alive. This is the gospel logic. We are crucified with Christ, and it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us (Gal. 2:20). After the troubles, after the death, comes the revival. God's intention is never to leave His people in the grave.

"And will bring me up again from the depths of the earth." This is a parallel thought, intensifying the promise. "The depths of the earth" is a strong metaphor for Sheol, the grave, the place of ultimate despair and defeat. The psalmist is confident that God's reach extends even there. This is a profound expression of hope in a bodily resurrection, a hope that finds its ultimate fulfillment and guarantee in the resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep (1 Cor. 15:20).

v. 21 May You increase my greatness And turn to comfort me.

This is a bold prayer, and it would be arrogant if it were not grounded in the previous verses. "May You increase my greatness." The psalmist is not asking for self-aggrandizement. Rather, he is asking that God's vindication of him would be as public and evident as his troubles were. Since his life is a testimony to God's faithfulness, an increase in his "greatness", his honor, his standing, his influence, is an increase in the glory of God's name. When God raises His servant from the depths, He does not just restore him to his previous state; He often elevates him further. Think of Job, who received double what he had before. This is a prayer that God would make His favor manifestly obvious to all.

"And turn to comfort me." The Hebrew here has the sense of "turn and comfort me" or "comfort me on every side." After the season of trouble, where it may have felt as though God's face was turned away, the psalmist asks for a season of encompassing comfort. This is the tender care of the Shepherd who, after leading the sheep through the valley of the shadow of death, makes them lie down in green pastures and leads them beside still waters.

v. 22 I will also praise You with a harp, Even Your truth, O my God; To You I will sing praises with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel.

The response to God's promised deliverance is a vow of praise. And it is specific, musical praise. "I will also praise You with a harp... To You I will sing praises with the lyre." Worship is not a silent, internal affair. It is meant to be audible, skillful, and beautiful. The use of instruments in the Old Testament provides the pattern for the robust, full-bodied worship of the New Covenant church. We are to praise God with everything we have, and that includes our musical abilities.

The content of the praise is key: "Even Your truth, O my God." He is not just praising God for the good feelings of deliverance, but for the bedrock character of God that makes deliverance certain. God's truth, His faithfulness to His covenant promises, is the theme of the song. God said He would deliver, and He did. His Word is true. That is worth singing about.

The names he uses for God are significant. "O my God" is personal and intimate. "O Holy One of Israel" is corporate and covenantal. This is the God who is utterly transcendent and set apart in His holiness, and yet He has bound Himself in a covenant relationship with His people, Israel. Our praise must always hold these two truths in tension: God's awesome holiness and His tender, personal, covenant faithfulness.

v. 23 My lips will sing for joy when I sing praises to You; And my soul, which You have redeemed.

The praise is not a mere formal performance. "My lips will sing for joy." The external action of singing is a direct result of the internal reality of joy. This is not the forced smile of a worship leader trying to gin up emotion. This is the spontaneous combustion of a heart set on fire by the grace of God. True worship is joyful, because our God is a God of joy.

And the ultimate source of this joy is revealed here: "And my soul, which You have redeemed." This is the heart of the matter. The psalmist understands that all of God's acts of deliverance, from enemies, from sickness, from the depths of the earth, are part of a much larger reality. He is a redeemed man. God has bought him back, paid the price for him. For us, we know the price was the precious blood of Christ. Every temporal blessing is a foretaste of that eternal redemption. Every act of deliverance in this life is a small echo of the great deliverance from sin and death accomplished at the cross. This is why the soul sings. It knows it has been purchased and belongs to another.

v. 24 My tongue also will utter Your righteousness all day long; For they are ashamed, for they are humiliated who seek to do me evil.

The praise is not confined to the sanctuary or to set times of musical worship. "My tongue also will utter Your righteousness all day long." This is a life saturated with the praise of God. It spills over into everyday conversation. The "righteousness" of God is the theme from the beginning of the section (v. 19) to the end. This is what he meditates on, what he talks about. It is the air he breathes. This is what it means to live a life to the glory of God.

The final clause provides the capstone and the ground for this continual praise. "For they are ashamed, for they are humiliated who seek to do me evil." The psalmist ends with the vindication of God's people and the defeat of God's enemies. The shame and humiliation that his enemies wished upon him have come back on their own heads. This is not gloating. It is the celebration of justice. When God acts to save His people, He is also acting to judge the wicked. The cross was the ultimate victory over the powers of darkness, making a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it (Col. 2:15). The psalmist's personal deliverance is a small picture of that great cosmic victory. And because that victory is certain, our praise can be, and must be, continual.

Application

This passage is a profound encouragement for the tested saint. It teaches us, first, that our troubles are not random. They are "shown" to us by a sovereign God who has a purpose in them. That purpose is to bring us low so that He might display His power in reviving us, in bringing us up from the depths.

Second, it models for us the right response to both trouble and deliverance. In trouble, we look to God's character, His transcendent righteousness, and we plead His promises. In deliverance, we erupt in joyful, audible, musical, and continual praise. Our worship should not be timid or morose; it should be robust and glad-hearted, because our souls have been redeemed.

Finally, our personal testimony is never just personal. The psalmist's deliverance is a public event that puts the enemies of God to shame. When God vindicates you, when He brings you up from the depths, it is a testimony to a watching world of His righteousness and power. Therefore, do not be silent. Let your tongue utter His righteousness all day long, for He is worthy, and His enemies will be put to shame.