Commentary - Psalm 104:19-23

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 104 is a magnificent hymn celebrating God as the Creator and Sustainer of all things. It is a detailed poetic commentary on the Genesis creation account, exulting in the wisdom, power, and goodness of God as displayed in the created order. The psalmist doesn't just see a collection of disconnected facts about nature; he sees a world teeming with the glory and providence of God. Everything, from the grandest cosmic bodies to the smallest creatures, has its place and purpose, assigned and upheld by the word of Jehovah's power.

In verses 19-23, the psalmist focuses on the rhythm of day and night, a fundamental structure of God's world that governs the lives of both animals and man. This section highlights the meticulous order and thoughtful provision of God. He has not created a chaotic world, but a cosmos, an ordered system where different creatures flourish in their appointed times and places. The darkness is not an absence of God's rule, but rather a different theater for His providence. The passage beautifully contrasts the activity of nocturnal predators with the daytime labor of man, showing how God provides for all His creatures, each according to its nature and in its proper time. This divine economy reveals a God who is intimately involved with His creation, not a distant, deistic clockmaker.


Outline


Context In Psalms

Psalm 104 stands as a majestic creation hymn, closely related in theme to Psalm 103, which praises God for His personal mercy and redemption, and Psalm 105, which recounts His covenant faithfulness to Israel. Together, they form a triptych of praise: God's mercy (103), God's creation (104), and God's covenant history (105). This psalm is distinct in its sustained focus on the natural world as a witness to God's glory. While other psalms certainly praise God for creation (e.g., Ps. 8, 19, 29), Psalm 104 does so with unparalleled detail and scope, moving systematically through the realms of creation much like Genesis 1.

The section of verses 19-23 fits seamlessly into this panoramic view. Having described God's provision of water for the animals and trees for the birds (vv. 10-18), the psalmist now turns to the temporal ordering of creation. This rhythm of light and darkness, day and night, is not accidental but is a foundational aspect of God's wise design, creating distinct periods for the flourishing of different kinds of life. It demonstrates that God's providence is not just spatial but also temporal; He rules the clock as much as He rules the landscape.


Key Issues


Verse by Verse Commentary

19 He made the moon for the seasons; The sun knows the place of its setting.

The psalmist begins this section with the great celestial timekeepers. Notice the agency: "He made." This is not an impersonal process. The modern materialist sees the moon and sun as products of gravitational forces and cosmic accidents, a flight from the glory of the Creator. But the Bible insists that a personal God appointed them. The moon is not just a rock reflecting sunlight; it is a divine instrument "for the seasons" (moedim). This word points to appointed times, festivals, and the ordering of civil and religious life. God has built a calendar into the heavens for us. The sun, likewise, is not its own master. It "knows" its setting, which is a poetic way of saying it is under divine command. It doesn't decide when to set; it obeys the decree of its Maker. This is a universe of divine order, not cosmic anarchy. Every sunset is an act of divine faithfulness.

20 You appoint darkness so that it becomes night, In which all the beasts of the forest creep about.

The logic flows directly. The setting of the sun brings darkness, and this too is a divine appointment. "You appoint darkness." In our modern world, we think of darkness as a negative, a mere absence of light. We try to banish it with our electric lights. But here, darkness has a positive purpose in God's economy. It is the designated time for a different shift of creatures to come alive. When the lights go out in man's world, the lights come on for the "beasts of the forest." The word "creep about" indicates their stealthy, prowling nature. God has designed a world with different realms, and the night is one of them. It is not a symbol of chaos, but rather another well-ordered dominion under His sovereign rule. He is Lord of the night as well as the day.

21 The young lions roar to go after their prey And to seek their food from God.

Here we have a startling and glorious thought. The roar of a young lion, a sound that would terrify us, is interpreted as a prayer. They are seeking their food "from God." This is a profound theological statement. God is not just the creator of the gentle lambs, but also of the fearsome predators. And He feeds them. Their ferocious hunt is not outside His providential care; it is the very instrument of it. This cuts straight across all sentimentalism. The God of the Bible is not a tame God. He presides over a world that is beautiful and dangerous, a world of "nature, red in tooth and claw," and He provides for the lion as well as the gazelle. When a lion makes a kill, it is receiving its daily bread from the hand of God. This should adjust our thinking about how God governs the world. He is not squeamish.

22 When the sun rises they gather together And lie down in their dens.

The divine order continues. Just as the setting of the sun was the signal for the beasts to emerge, the rising of the sun is the signal for them to retire. The shift change happens with perfect regularity. The sun rises, again, an act of God's faithfulness, and the nocturnal hunters "gather together." They retreat to their designated places, their dens. Their time is over. This is not their world anymore. The curtain falls on their stage, and it rises on another. This rhythm prevents the world from being overrun by either man or beast. Each has its sphere, its appointed time to be active. God's wisdom is displayed in this balance, this cosmic separation of powers.

23 Man goes forth to his work And to his labor until evening.

Now the scene shifts to the pinnacle of the earthly creation. As the lions lie down, man gets up. "Man goes forth." This is the dominion mandate from Genesis in poetic form. The day is for man. His task is "work" and "labor." This is not presented as a curse, but as a noble and fitting calling. Work is not a result of the fall; the curse was that work would become toilsome and frustrating (Gen. 3:17-19). But the task itself is inherent to what it means to be human. Man is made to be a sub-creator, to tend the garden, to build, to shape, to rule. And he does this "until evening." His work has a limit. The same God who appoints the time for work also appoints the time for rest. The rhythm of work and rest is woven into the fabric of creation, a gift from a wise and benevolent Creator who knows our frame.


Key Words

Moedim, "Seasons"

The Hebrew word moedim, translated "seasons" in verse 19, means much more than just spring, summer, autumn, and winter. It refers to "appointed times" or "set feasts." It is the same word used for the religious festivals of Israel (Lev. 23:2). By using this word, the psalmist connects the natural rhythms of the cosmos directly to the worship and life of God's covenant people. The moon is not just a celestial body; it is a preacher, calling out the appointed times for worship. The entire created order is liturgical.

Avodah, "Work/Labor"

The word for "labor" in verse 23 is avodah. This is a rich Hebrew term that can mean work, service, or even worship. The priests' service in the temple was their avodah. This implies that man's daily work is not a secular activity, detached from his relationship with God. When done in faith, man's labor is a form of service, an act of worship. Whether he is plowing a field, building a wall, or writing a book, he is serving God. This elevates all legitimate human labor to a place of high dignity.


Application

This passage calls us first to reject the drab, gray meaninglessness of materialism. The world is not a cosmic accident; it is a theater of God's glory, ordered down to the last detail. We should therefore cultivate a deep and joyful attentiveness to the created world. Every sunrise and sunset is a sermon on God's faithfulness. The rhythm of our days and nights is a gift, designed for our good and for the good of all creation. We should see the hand of God not just in the miraculous, but in the steady, regular pulse of the universe.

Second, we must recognize the dignity of our work. When the sun rises, it is our cue. God has given the day to us for our labor. We are not to be slothful, but diligent, recognizing that our work is our primary stage for serving God. Whether you are a pastor or a plumber, your work matters to God. It is your avodah, your service. We should go to our work with purpose and gratitude, seeing it as our part in God's great project of exercising dominion over the earth.

Finally, this passage teaches us to trust in God's comprehensive providence. He feeds the lions in the dark of night; will He not care for us in the light of day? The same God who orders the cosmos orders our lives. He who provides for the beasts of the forest will surely provide for His own children, those He has called to go forth and work in His name. Our lives are not chaotic and random. There is a divine appointment for our waking and our sleeping, our labor and our rest. In all of it, we are to seek our provision from God and live to His glory.