Commentary - Psalm 106:6-12

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 106 is a national confession of sin, a historical remembrance of Israel's persistent rebellion set against the backdrop of God's even more persistent covenant faithfulness. This particular section, verses 6 through 12, zeroes in on the foundational event of Israel's national identity: the Exodus. The psalmist, speaking for his own generation, does not point fingers at the past but rather identifies his own people with the sins of their ancestors. The confession is corporate and generational. The central point is this: Israel's rebellion began at the very moment of their deliverance. At the shores of the Red Sea, with the memory of God's wonders in Egypt still fresh, they grumbled and disbelieved. And yet, God saved them. Why? Not because of their worthiness, but for the sake of His own name. He acted to make His power known. The passage climaxes with the glorious display of that power in the parting of the sea and the destruction of Pharaoh's army, which in turn produced a fleeting moment of faith and praise from the people. It is a stark picture of human frailty and divine glory, a pattern that repeats throughout Scripture and finds its ultimate expression at the cross.

This is a story of a salvation that is entirely of grace. Israel did not deserve deliverance; they were already in rebellion. God's motive for saving them was internal to Himself, rooted in His own character and His determination to glorify His name. The miracle of the Red Sea was not just a rescue; it was a revelation of who God is. The subsequent belief and praise of the Israelites, while genuine in the moment, is shown by the rest of the psalm to be shallow and temporary. This serves as a potent reminder that even the most spectacular displays of God's power cannot, by themselves, produce lasting heart-change. Only a deeper work of grace, the circumcision of the heart, can do that.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 106 is the second of a pair of psalms that recount Israel's history. Psalm 105 celebrates God's covenant faithfulness to Israel, recounting His mighty acts from Abraham to the conquest of Canaan. It is a story of God's promises made and kept. Psalm 106, in stark contrast, recounts Israel's covenant unfaithfulness to God. It is a litany of rebellion, from Egypt to the exile. Together, they provide a balanced picture: God is always faithful, and man is always straying. Psalm 106 begins and ends with "Praise the LORD!" (Hallelujah), which is striking given its content. This frames the whole confession within the context of worship. True worship involves acknowledging not just God's goodness, but also our own profound sinfulness and desperate need for the mercy that this psalm so vividly illustrates. It is a historical psalm, but its purpose is liturgical and didactic, teaching the congregation to own their sinful heritage and to find their only hope in the steadfast love of the Lord which endures forever.

Key Issues

For His Name's Sake

One of the most profound theological truths is tucked right into the middle of this passage. Why did God save a rebellious people? The answer is not found in them, but in Him. "He saved them for the sake of His name." This is central to a right understanding of God. God is not a cosmic reactor, responding to human stimuli. He is the great Actor, the Initiator, and His ultimate motive in all that He does is the glory of His own name. His name represents His character, His reputation, His glory. When He acts to save, He is putting His own character on display. When He parts the Red Sea, He does it "that He might make His might known."

This is fantastically good news for sinners. If our salvation depended on our own goodness, our own faithfulness, or our own ability to remember God's deeds, we would all be lost. But our salvation depends on God's commitment to His own glory. He has bound up our salvation with His own reputation. When He saves wretches like us, it magnifies His mercy. When He redeems rebels, it showcases His grace. When He shows patience to a forgetful people, it demonstrates His long-suffering. The foundation of our hope is not the stability of our own hearts, but the unshakeable commitment of God to uphold the glory of His own name. He cannot deny Himself. Therefore, because He has promised, He will save.

Verse by Verse Commentary

6 We have sinned with our fathers, We have committed iniquity, we have acted wickedly.

The confession begins with a crucial act of identification. The psalmist does not say, "They sinned," pointing a finger back at a previous, more wicked generation. He says, "We have sinned with our fathers." This is corporate solidarity. He understands that the sinful disposition that characterized Israel in the wilderness is the same sinful disposition that he finds in his own heart and in his own generation. The language is comprehensive, piling up three different words for sin: we have missed the mark, we have been perverse, we have been lawless. This is not a superficial apology; it is a deep acknowledgment of radical corruption. This is how all true confession must begin, by owning the sin of our fathers as our own native inheritance. We are chips off the old, sinful block.

7 Our fathers in Egypt did not consider Your wondrous deeds; They did not remember Your abundant lovingkindnesses, But they rebelled by the sea, at the Red Sea.

Here the psalmist identifies the root of the rebellion. It was not intellectual; it was moral. It was a failure of memory and consideration. They "did not consider" and "did not remember." The ten plagues were not subtle hints; they were "wondrous deeds," earth-shattering displays of God's power. Yet, the memory was short. The "abundant lovingkindnesses", the hesed, the covenant love of God, were forgotten. And where did this forgetfulness lead? Straight to rebellion. And where did this rebellion happen? At the most ironic place imaginable: "by the sea, at the Red Sea." They stood at the very brink of their great salvation, with the Egyptian army closing in, and their response was not faith but rebellion. This is the story of the human heart. We stand in the presence of God's wonders, on the verge of deliverance, and our first instinct is to grumble and doubt.

8 Yet He saved them for the sake of His name, That He might make His might known.

This "Yet" is one of the great hinges of the gospel. On one side, you have man's rebellion. On the other, God's salvation. What bridges the gap? Not human merit, but divine motive. He saved them "for the sake of His name." God's reputation was on the line. He had brought them out of Egypt with a high hand, and He would not have His name profaned among the nations by letting them perish in the wilderness. His purpose was to make His power known. This is a foundational principle. God's glory is the ultimate end of all things, including our salvation. He does not save us primarily for our sake; He saves us for His sake. Our benefit is a glorious, wonderful, and blood-bought side effect of His pursuit of His own glory. This is the firmest ground for our assurance.

9 Thus He rebuked the Red Sea and it dried up, And He led them through the deeps, as through the wilderness.

The action follows the motive. Because He acted for His name's sake, His action was decisive and absolute. He "rebuked" the sea. This is the language of a sovereign Lord speaking to His creation. The sea has no choice but to obey. The result was that the sea floor "dried up." This was not just a path through the mud; God made it a highway. He led them through the "deeps", a place of chaos and death, as if it were a "wilderness" or a pasture. He transformed a place of terror into a place of safe passage. This is what God does in salvation. He takes the very thing that should destroy us, the deep waters of judgment, and makes it the path to our deliverance. He leads us through death into life.

10 So He saved them from the hand of the one who hated them, And redeemed them from the hand of the enemy.

The result for Israel is spelled out here. It was a salvation and a redemption. He saved them from the "hand", the power, the grip, of Pharaoh, who hated them. This was a deliverance from a personal, malevolent enemy. The word "redeemed" adds the idea of a payment, of being bought back. While no literal price was paid to Pharaoh, this language points forward to the ultimate redemption, where a price would be paid to satisfy the justice of God. This verse is a beautiful summary of the gospel. We are saved from the hand of Satan, who hates us, and we are redeemed from the power of our great enemy, sin and death, by the mighty act of God in Christ.

11 The waters covered their adversaries; Not one of them was left.

Salvation for God's people meant judgment for God's enemies. The same waters that were a wall of protection for Israel became an instrument of destruction for the Egyptians. The deliverance was total, and the judgment was total. "Not one of them was left." This is a picture of the finality of God's work. When Christ saves, He saves completely. And when He judges, He judges completely. The cross was for us what the Red Sea was for Israel: the place where our enemies, sin, death, and the devil, were drowned. Their power was broken, decisively and forever. There is no middle ground; you either pass through the waters in safety with Christ, or you are overwhelmed by them in judgment.

12 Then they believed His words; They sang His praise.

The immediate response to this staggering display of power was faith and worship. Standing on the far shore, looking back at the floating wreckage of the Egyptian army, "they believed His words." The promises God had made through Moses were vindicated. And the natural outflow of this belief was praise. Exodus 15 gives us the full text of the magnificent song they sang. But the tragedy, as the rest of Psalm 106 makes clear, is that this faith was circumstantial. It was a faith born of sight, not of deep-rooted trust. It lasted only as long as the next inconvenience. This is a sober warning. It is possible to be emotionally stirred by a great act of God, to sing His praises with gusto, and yet to have a heart that has not been fundamentally changed. True, saving faith is not just a response to a past miracle; it is a settled trust in the character of God for all the future circumstances, no matter how difficult.

Application

This passage forces us to look in the mirror. It is easy for us to read about Israel's rebellion at the Red Sea and cluck our tongues. How could they be so faithless? But this psalm insists that their story is our story. "We have sinned with our fathers." How often has God delivered us, answered a prayer, shown us a wonder, only for us to forget it the moment the next trial appears on the horizon? Our hearts are just as leaky as theirs. Our memories are just as short. Our propensity to grumble is just as strong.

The application, therefore, is not to try harder to be less like Israel. The application is to flee to the same God who saved them. Our hope is not in our ability to remember, but in the fact that God saves for His own name's sake. He has staked His reputation on the salvation of His people. When we are faithless, He remains faithful. Our confidence must be placed entirely outside of ourselves and entirely on Him. When we sin, we must confess it corporately and honestly, acknowledging our solidarity with a long line of sinners.

And when we are delivered, we must sing His praise. But we must pray that our songs are not the fleeting, emotional response of the Israelites on the shore. We must pray that our faith is not in the miracle itself, but in the God of the miracle. The Red Sea was a type, a pointer. It pointed to the cross of Jesus Christ, the ultimate deliverance. At the cross, God's mighty power was made known in what looked like weakness. There, our true enemy was drowned in the abyss of God's judgment. And there, God acted definitively for the glory of His own name. Let us therefore believe His words about the cross, and let us sing His praise, not just for a moment, but for all eternity.