The Hard School of Grace Text: Psalm 107:10-16
Introduction: The Prison We Build for Ourselves
Psalm 107 is a grand anthem of redemption. It is a series of snapshots, four portraits of human misery and divine deliverance, followed by a repeated, thunderous chorus: "Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness." The psalmist is teaching us to see the patterns of God's providence, to recognize His hand not only in the final rescue but also in the trouble that precedes it. We are a forgetful people, and so the Holy Spirit gives us this catechism of remembrance, showing us different ways we get ourselves into deep trouble, and the one constant way God gets us out.
In the section before us, we are shown the second of these four portraits. The first was of wanderers lost in a desert, a picture of aimless desperation. This one is different. This is a picture of rebels in a dungeon. These are not people who simply lost their way; these are people who defiantly chose their own way, spat on God's map, and found that their chosen path led directly to a prison cell of their own making. They were not just lost; they were locked up.
This is a particularly modern kind of trouble. We live in an age that worships autonomy. "My body, my choice," "my truth," "I did it my way." These are the high creeds of our secular religion. And the end result of this rebellion, the psalmist tells us, is not liberation but bondage. It is darkness, affliction, and iron bars. Our culture is filled with people who are prisoners in affliction and irons, people who inhabit darkness and the shadow of death, all because they have rebelled against the words of God. They think they are breaking free, but they are actually forging their own chains.
This passage is therefore a severe mercy. It shows us that the lovingkindness of God is not a sentimental, syrupy thing that just pats us on the head regardless of what we do. God's love is a holy love, a fatherly love, which means it is a disciplining love. He loves us too much to let us succeed in our rebellion. And so, when we set our hearts against Him, He will, in His grace, subdue our hearts with labor. He will bring us to a place where we stumble and there is none to help, so that we might finally learn to cry out to the only one who can.
The Text
There were those who inhabited darkness and the shadow of death, Prisoners in affliction and irons, Because they had rebelled against the words of God And spurned the counsel of the Most High. So He subdued their heart with labor; They stumbled and there was none to help. Then they cried out to Yahweh in their trouble; He saved them out of their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death And broke their bands apart. Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness, And for His wondrous deeds to the sons of men! For He has shattered the doors of bronze And cut through the bars of iron.
(Psalm 107:10-16 LSB)
The Rebel's Prison (vv. 10-11)
The psalmist begins by describing the condition of these prisoners. It is a state of utter misery and despair.
"There were those who inhabited darkness and the shadow of death, Prisoners in affliction and irons," (Psalm 107:10)
This is not just a physical prison. The language is too profound for that. "Darkness and the shadow of death" paints a picture of spiritual and psychological bondage. This is a place of deep gloom, confusion, and the palpable presence of mortality. They are not just visiting this place; they "inhabit" it. It is their home. They are prisoners, shackled by two things: "affliction and irons." The affliction is the internal misery, the anguish of soul. The irons are the external constraints, the consequences that bind them fast.
But why are they here? This is not the result of bad luck or unjust persecution. Verse 11 gives us the explicit reason, the cause for this terrible effect.
"Because they had rebelled against the words of God And spurned the counsel of the Most High." (Psalm 107:11)
Here is the indictment. Their crime was twofold, and it was a crime against the King of the universe. First, they "rebelled against the words of God." This is active defiance. God's Word is His royal decree, His law. It is the expression of His character and His will for our good. To rebel against it is to declare war on reality itself. It is to say to the Creator, "I know better than you." Second, they "spurned the counsel of the Most High." This is an act of contemptuous pride. God's counsel is His wisdom, His fatherly advice offered for our flourishing. To spurn it is to treat it as worthless, to sneer at the wisdom of the Almighty. They didn't just break the rules; they despised the Lawgiver. This is the very essence of sin: autonomy. It is the desire to be your own god, to write your own laws, to be the captain of your own soul. And the ship of that soul always runs aground on the rocks of reality, and the captain finds himself in irons.
The Father's Discipline (v. 12)
Now, we must see who is ultimately behind this affliction. It is not fate, and it is not the devil acting as a free agent. God is sovereign even over the consequences of our sin.
"So He subdued their heart with labor; They stumbled and there was none to help." (Psalm 107:12 LSB)
Notice the pronoun: "He subdued their heart." God Himself takes action. This is divine discipline. Because they would not submit their hearts to His Word, He determined to subdue their hearts through hard labor. He gave them what they wanted, in a sense. They wanted to work for themselves, to build their own kingdom, so God put them to hard labor in the prison of their own choices. He let them feel the full weight of their rebellion. The word "subdued" means He brought them low, humbled them. The pride that spurned His counsel is now crushed under the weight of affliction.
The result of this divine subduing is that "They stumbled and there was none to help." This is a crucial part of God's grace in discipline. He isolates the rebel from all his false supports. All the friends who encouraged the rebellion are nowhere to be found. All the self-sufficient strength has evaporated. All the clever rationalizations have collapsed. They are flat on their face, in the dark, alone. This is the rock bottom that grace prepares. God brings us to the end of ourselves so that we might finally come to the beginning of Him.
The Desperate Cry and the Swift Deliverance (vv. 13-14)
It is in this place of utter helplessness that the turning point comes. The hard heart finally breaks.
"Then they cried out to Yahweh in their trouble; He saved them out of their distresses." (Genesis 107:13 LSB)
"Then they cried out." Not before. Not when things were just a little uncomfortable. It was only after He subdued their heart, after they stumbled with no one to help, that they finally looked up. Their prayer is not eloquent. It is a cry, a raw, desperate shout for help. And it is directed to the right place: "to Yahweh." They cry out to the very God against whom they had rebelled. This is repentance. It is turning back to the one you turned away from.
And look at the speed and efficacy of God's response. The text does not say, "He thought about it," or "He made them grovel for a while." It simply says, "He saved them out of their distresses." The moment the cry of repentance goes up, the hand of salvation comes down. This is the nature of our covenant God. He is not a reluctant savior. He is poised to rescue. His discipline is not meant to destroy, but to drive us back to Him.
Verse 14 describes the nature of this salvation in terms that perfectly reverse the initial condition.
"He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death And broke their bands apart." (Psalm 107:14 LSB)
The darkness is replaced by His marvelous light. The shadow of death is dispelled by the hope of life. And the bands, the irons of their affliction, are not just unlocked, they are "broke apart." This is a violent, powerful act of liberation. It signifies a definitive, total freedom. The chains are not just loosened; they are shattered. This is what Jesus came to do. He came to proclaim liberty to the captives and to set at liberty those who are oppressed (Luke 4:18).
The Required Response (vv. 15-16)
This great deliverance demands a great response. This is the chorus that echoes throughout the psalm, the central lesson we are to learn.
"Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness, And for His wondrous deeds to the sons of men!" (Psalm 107:15 LSB)
The required response is gratitude. Specifically, they are to give thanks for two things. First, for His "lovingkindness." This is that great covenant word, hesed. It is not just kindness; it is steadfast, loyal, covenant-keeping love. It is a love that pursues us even into the prison of our rebellion. It is the love that disciplines us for our own good. It is a love that hears the faintest cry of repentance. We are to thank Him for who He is.
Second, we are to thank Him for His "wondrous deeds." We are to thank Him for what He does. The story of our rescue is to be told. This is public testimony. The redemption God works is not meant to be a secret. Those who have been saved are to say so, for the glory of God and the encouragement of others who might find themselves in the same prison.
The final verse gives the ground for this praise, summarizing the great act of deliverance.
"For He has shattered the doors of bronze And cut through the bars of iron." (Psalm 107:16 LSB)
This is a picture of an impregnable fortress. Bronze doors and iron bars speak of a prison from which there is no human possibility of escape. Our sin puts us in a place that we cannot get out of on our own. The addiction, the bitterness, the rebellion, these things construct a prison around the soul that is stronger than bronze or iron. But what is impossible for man is the specialty of God. He does not pick the lock; He "shatters" the doors. He does not saw through the bars; He "cuts" them through. His power is absolute. No prison of sin can hold a man or woman whom God determines to set free.
The Gospel in the Dungeon
This entire narrative is a beautiful illustration of the gospel. Every one of us, by nature, is born a rebel. We have all, like these prisoners, rebelled against the words of God and spurned the counsel of the Most High. And as a result, we were born into a spiritual prison, inhabiting darkness and the shadow of death, prisoners to sin and Satan.
Our hearts were proud and unsubdued. So God, in His hesed, allows the labor of the law to crush us. The law shows us our sin and subdues our proud hearts, showing us that we are utterly helpless. It brings us to the point where we stumble, and there is no one else to help. We cannot save ourselves. Our good works are useless. Our philosophies are empty.
And it is there, in that darkness, that God enables us to cry out. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" This is the cry of the prisoner. And the moment we cry out in faith to Jesus Christ, God acts. He saves us from our distresses.
How does He do it? He does it because the ultimate prisoner took our place. Jesus Christ entered the darkness and the shadow of death for us. On the cross, He bore our affliction and our irons. He was subdued with the labor of bearing the wrath of God. He stumbled under the weight of our sin, and there was none to help Him. He cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
He went into the ultimate prison of death so that He could shatter its gates from the inside. He broke the bronze doors of the grave and cut through the iron bars of sin and death. And because He did, He can now bring us out of our own darkness. He breaks our bands apart and sets us free. Therefore, what should our response be? "Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness, and for His wondrous deeds to the sons of men!" Let the redeemed of the Lord say so.