Commentary - Psalm 113:7-9

Bird's-eye view

This psalm is part of the Hallel (Psalms 113-118), the great psalms of praise that were sung at the major Jewish feasts, and which Christ Himself would have sung with His disciples after the Last Supper. The psalm begins and ends with a call to praise Yahweh. The central reason for this praise is the central reality of our faith: the God who is infinitely high has condescended to look upon the infinitely low. He is exalted above all nations, His glory is above the heavens, and yet He humbles Himself to behold the things in heaven and on earth. The final verses of this psalm (vv. 7-9) give us the concrete particulars of this condescension. This is not a sentimental divine slumming; it is a radical rescue operation. God does not just observe the lowly; He reverses their condition entirely. This is the gospel in miniature, a portrait of the great reversal that God accomplishes in Christ.

The structure is a beautiful contrast. First, we see the sheer exaltation of God (vv. 1-6). Who is like Him? No one. He is in a category by Himself. Then, second, we see the practical outworking of His character in His dealings with mankind (vv. 7-9). He finds the lowest of the low, the man on the ash heap and the woman in the barren house, and He elevates them to glory. This is the pattern of salvation history, from Hannah's prayer, which this psalm echoes, to the Magnificat of Mary, which echoes them both. It is the story of a God who delights in turning the world's value system on its head.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 113 serves as the gateway to the Egyptian Hallel. These were the songs of deliverance, sung with the Passover meal in hand, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. This context is crucial. The God who raises the poor from the dust is the same God who brought a nation of slaves out of bondage and made them His treasured possession. The abstract principle of God's condescending grace is grounded in the historical reality of His redemptive acts.

This psalm also draws heavily on the song of Hannah (1 Samuel 2:1-10). She was the barren woman made a glad mother, and her song celebrates the God who "raises up the poor out of the dust, and lifts up the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes." The psalmist is picking up this established theme of God's saving pattern and weaving it into the corporate worship of Israel. It is a reminder that the God of the nation is also the God of the individual, the one who sees the forgotten man and the grieving woman.

Verse by Verse Commentary

7 Who raises the poor from the dust And lifts high the needy from the ash heap,

The psalmist now puts shoe leather on the doctrine of God's condescension. What does it look like for the exalted God to humble Himself? It looks like this. He goes to the lowest places of human society. The "dust" is not just a poetic image for humility; it is a picture of abject poverty, of being trodden underfoot, of being next to nothing. The "ash heap" is even more graphic. This was the city dump, the place of refuse, filth, and shame. In the ancient world, the destitute and the outcast would huddle there for warmth or to scavenge for scraps. This is the bottom of the barrel. This is where God goes to work. He does not send a committee. He Himself "raises" and "lifts." This is a personal, powerful act of deliverance. It is a resurrection. He is taking what is dead and discarded in the eyes of the world and is about to make it glorious.

8 To make them sit with nobles, With the nobles of His people.

And the reversal is not a small one. He does not just lift the poor man to a slightly better state of poverty. He does not move him from the ash heap to a tidy but humble cottage. The trajectory is from the gutter to the throne room. He makes them "sit with nobles." This is an image of honor, authority, and fellowship at the highest level. The man who was a nobody, covered in the filth of the dump, is now washed, clothed, and seated at the table with the rulers of the land. And these are not just any nobles, but the "nobles of His people." This is not just a rags-to-riches story in a secular sense. This is adoption into the royal family of God. This is what God does in the gospel. He finds us on the ash heap of our sin and rebellion, dead and discarded, and through the work of Christ, He raises us up and seats us with Him in the heavenly places (Eph. 2:6). He makes us kings and priests to our God (Rev. 1:6).

9 He makes the barren woman of the house sit As a glad mother of children. Praise Yah!

The psalmist now turns from the public square to the private home, showing that God's reversal is total. He deals with both public shame and private grief. In that culture, barrenness was not just a personal sorrow; it was a profound social disgrace. A woman's identity and value were deeply tied to her ability to bear children. A barren woman was, in a sense, on an emotional and social "ash heap." But God intervenes. He "makes the barren woman... sit." The word is the same as in the previous verse; it means He causes her to dwell, to be established, to have a secure and honored place in her own home. And her status is transformed. She is no longer the barren one, but a "glad mother of children." God does not just give her children; He gives her joy in those children. The emptiness of her life is filled with the noise, the life, the future that children represent. This is the story of Sarah, of Rebekah, of Rachel, of Hannah, of Elizabeth. And ultimately, it is a picture of the gospel. The church, the bride of Christ, was barren and desolate, but through the work of her husband, she has become the joyful mother of a multitude of children from every tribe and tongue. The only appropriate response to such a staggering display of grace, from the dunghill to the palace, from the empty womb to the full house, is the one the psalmist gives us: Praise Yah! Hallelujah!

Application

The application of this psalm is as straightforward as it is profound. First, we must see that our God is a God of glorious reversals. He is not impressed with the world's pecking order. He consistently chooses the weak to shame the strong, the foolish to shame the wise. This should give immense comfort to those who feel they are on the ash heap, whether through poverty, sickness, shame, or failure. Your low estate is precisely the kind of place God loves to display His glory. He is the God who gets under the whole mess in order to lift it all up.

Second, this passage is a picture of our own salvation. We were all on the ash heap of sin. We were spiritually destitute, with no claim on God's favor. We were spiritually barren, unable to produce any life or righteousness. But God, in His mercy, lifted us out of that filth. He washed us, adopted us, and seated us with Christ. He made us fruitful. We must never forget where we came from. A right understanding of the ash heap is the necessary prerequisite for a right appreciation of grace. Our praise will be directly proportional to our understanding of the pit from which we were rescued.

Finally, because this is God's character, this should be our character. As a people who have been lifted from the dust, we should be the first to extend a hand to those who are still there. We should be a people who honor the lowly, who care for the needy, and who welcome the barren and broken. We are to reflect the character of our Father, the one who looks down from the highest heaven to lift up the lowest of men. And in all of it, from beginning to end, our lives should be one resounding Hallelujah.