Commentary - Psalm 78:17-20

Bird's-eye view

This section of Psalm 78 is a masterful, inspired dissection of the anatomy of unbelief. Asaph, the psalmist, is not simply recounting a historical tantrum in the desert; he is exposing the dark logic of a rebellious heart. The passage moves from the general statement of their continued sin (v. 17) to the internal motivation, which was testing God in their hearts according to their lusts (v. 18). This internal rebellion then breaks out into open, blasphemous speech (v. 19), which is then detailed in its particulars (v. 20). The logic is striking: they acknowledge a staggering miracle of God, water from a rock, but then use that very miracle as the basis for questioning His ability to do something else. This is not honest doubt. This is cynical, high-handed unbelief, a deliberate refusal to draw the obvious conclusion about God's power and goodness. It is a case study in how a heart set on its own desires can see the mighty works of God and respond not with faith, but with a sneer.

The core issue here is a refusal to trust God's salvation. They had been saved from Egypt, saved from thirst, but they would not trust His ongoing provision. Their sin was not simply wanting food; it was demanding food on their own terms, driven by their cravings. They put God on trial, with their bellies as the chief justice. This passage serves as a permanent warning against the kind of faith that is always demanding the next miracle, the next sign, while refusing to rest in the character of the God who has already demonstrated His power and love in a thousand ways, chief of which is the cross of Christ.


Outline


Context In Psalm 78

Psalm 78 is a maskil, a teaching psalm. Its stated purpose is to ensure that the coming generations will not be like their stubborn and rebellious forefathers who forgot the works of God (vv. 1-8). The psalm is a sprawling historical narrative, recounting the story of Israel from the Exodus to the reign of David. It is a story told with a distinct purpose: to highlight the stark contrast between God's steadfast covenant faithfulness and Israel's persistent covenant unfaithfulness. Our passage (vv. 17-20) comes right after a description of God's miraculous provision for Israel in the wilderness, specifically the parting of the Red Sea (vv. 12-13), the guidance of the pillar of cloud and fire (v. 14), and the provision of water from the rock (vv. 15-16). It is in the immediate aftermath of these stunning miracles that the rebellion described in our text erupts. This juxtaposition is the whole point. Their sin is not committed in an absence of evidence for God's goodness, but in the very blaze of its revelation.


Key Issues


The Logic of a Grumbling Heart

One of the central lessons of the Christian life is that sin is profoundly irrational. It does not make sense. We see this with perfect clarity in the wilderness generation. God had just dismantled the most powerful empire on earth with ten staggering plagues, parted the Red Sea, and led them out with a pillar of fire. Now, in the desert, He splits rocks to give them water. An honest observer would conclude, "This God can do anything. Our provision is His concern, and we are safe with Him." But that is not what they conclude. Instead, they say, "Okay, water from a rock is a good trick. But what about a square meal? Can He do that?"

This is not a failure of intellect, but a failure of the heart. The heart is the engine of our reasoning. When the heart is filled with lust, what the Bible here calls their "desire," it hijacks the whole reasoning process. The problem was not that they were hungry. The problem was that they were ruled by their hunger. They wanted food, not according to God's loving provision, but "according to their desire." They wanted what they wanted, when they wanted it. This is the root of all sin. It is the creature putting his desires in the place of the Creator's wisdom and will. And once that happens, no amount of evidence, no number of miracles, will ever be enough. An unbelieving heart will always find a reason to ask, "Yes, but can He do this?"


Verse by Verse Commentary

17 Yet they still continued to sin against Him, To rebel against the Most High in the desert.

The verse begins with "Yet," setting up the great contrast. Despite the miracles just recounted, despite the gushing water from the flinty rock, their sin did not stop. The Hebrew emphasizes the additive nature of it; they "added" to their sin. This was not a one-off stumble. This was a pattern, a lifestyle of rebellion. The psalmist defines this sin as rebellion against the "Most High." This title for God, Elyon, emphasizes His sovereignty and transcendence. Their rebellion was not against a petty tribal deity; it was against the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth. And they did it "in the desert," a place where their absolute dependence on Him was demonstrated every single moment of every single day. Every sunrise, every bit of shade, every drop of water was a sermon on God's grace, and they slept through every one of them.

18 And in their heart they put God to the test By asking for food according to their desire.

Here we get to the root of the rebellion. Before the words were ever spoken, the sin was conceived "in their heart." This is where all sin begins. They "put God to the test." This is not the kind of testing we are commanded to do, like testing the spirits. This is the creature putting the Creator in the dock. It is a hostile cross-examination. And what was the basis of their test? They asked for food, not out of simple need, but "according to their desire." The word here is related to soul or appetite, but in this context, it clearly means their lusts, their cravings. They had manna, the bread of heaven, but they were bored with it. They wanted the savory meats of Egypt. They were not testing to see if God could provide; they were testing to see if God would obey their appetites. They were demanding that the Most High cater to their whims.

19 Then they spoke against God; They said, β€œCan God prepare a table in the wilderness?

What was conceived in the heart is now born on the tongue. "They spoke against God." This is not a prayerful question born of weakness; this is a cynical, accusatory challenge. The question, "Can God prepare a table in the wilderness?" is dripping with contempt. A table speaks of abundance, of a civilized, catered meal. They are looking at the barren sand and sneering at the possibility of God providing a feast there. It is the epitome of looking at circumstances rather than at the God who commands circumstances. They are essentially saying that God's power is limited by the geography. He might be a God of the rivers of Egypt, or a God of freakish rock-splitting, but He is not a God who can furnish a dinner table out here. This is a direct assault on His omnipotence.

20 Behold, He struck the rock so that waters gushed out, And streams were overflowing; Can He give bread also? Will He prepare meat for His people?”

This verse reveals the twisted logic of unbelief in its purest form. They begin by stating a stupendous miracle: "Behold, He struck the rock so that waters gushed out." They admit the truth of it. They saw it with their own eyes. The streams were overflowing. They drank from them. And what is their conclusion? "Therefore, we can trust Him for anything!" No. Their conclusion is, "Can He give bread also?" They take a Grade A miracle and treat it like a C minus. They refuse to generalize from God's power. It is as if they are saying, "Sure, He's a specialist in hydraulics, but what does He know about baking or butchering?" The question is an insult. The God who can bring a river from a rock can certainly bake a loaf of bread. The God who created the heavens and the earth, and every animal in them, can certainly provide meat. To ask the question is to reveal a heart that is not looking for reasons to believe, but is desperately seeking excuses for its unbelief.


Application

We read a passage like this and are tempted to look down our noses at those grumbling Israelites. But we do this to our peril, because their hearts are our hearts, just with a different desert backdrop. How often has God delivered us from some great sin or trial, our own personal Egypt? How often has He provided for us in a surprising way, our own water from the rock? And how quickly do we forget? The very next day, when a new trouble arises, we are tempted to ask the same faithless question: "Yes, God did that yesterday, but can He handle this today?"

The sin of the Israelites was that they were never content with yesterday's manna. They wanted something new, something that catered to their cravings. We do the same thing. We have been given the ultimate provision in Jesus Christ. He is the bread of heaven, the water of life. In Him, we have been forgiven, adopted, and guaranteed an eternal inheritance. And yet, we grumble. We want a different "table" than the one He has prepared. We want health instead of sickness, wealth instead of want, ease instead of trial. We test God in our hearts, demanding that He provide according to our desires, not according to His wisdom.

The lesson of this psalm is that we must fight for faith by remembering. We must deliberately recount the great works of God, not just in Israel's history, but in our own. And above all, we must recount the greatest work of all, the cross. When we are tempted to ask, "Can God really handle this problem?" we must look to Calvary and say, "He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him graciously give us all things?" The God who can furnish a table for us in the presence of our enemies, the God who has already prepared the marriage supper of the Lamb, can most certainly give us our daily bread in whatever wilderness we find ourselves.