Commentary - Psalm 114

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 114 is a song of historical remembrance, celebrating the foundational event of Israel's identity: the Exodus from Egypt. This psalm is one of the Hallel psalms (113-118), sung during Passover, which is entirely appropriate given its subject matter. The Christian faith is not a set of abstract doctrines; it is rooted in God's mighty acts in history. This psalm recounts the central mighty act of the Old Covenant, which serves as a type and shadow of the ultimate mighty act of the New Covenant, the exodus that Jesus Christ accomplished for us at Jerusalem (Luke 9:31).

The psalmist collapses the entire period from the Red Sea crossing to the entrance into Canaan into one singular, explosive event. He personifies creation itself, the sea, the river, the mountains, and depicts it as recoiling and reacting in astonishment and fear at the presence of the Lord. The central point is this: when God is present with His people, the entire created order takes notice. The reason for this commotion is that God has established His dwelling place, His sanctuary, among men. The psalm is a glorious declaration of the power of God's presence, a power that not only delivers His people but also makes the earth itself tremble.

Outline

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

When Israel went out from Egypt, The house of Jacob from a people of strange language, (v. 1)

The psalm begins with a bang. It starts right where Israel's story as a redeemed nation begins. "When Israel went out from Egypt." This is not just a geographical relocation. This is a salvation event. They were the "house of Jacob," which reminds us of their patriarchal origin, a family that went down into Egypt and, after centuries of bondage, came out a nation. They came out from "a people of strange language." This detail is not incidental. Language creates culture and worldview. To be surrounded by a strange language is to be an alien, a sojourner in a land that is not your own. It emphasizes their otherness, their separation from the idolatrous culture of Egypt. God was not just rescuing them from slavery, but from a whole way of life that was foreign to Him and to the covenant He had made with their fathers.

Judah became His sanctuary, Israel, His dominion. (v. 2)

This is the central declaration of the psalm. The result of the Exodus was not simply freedom, but consecration. God brought them out so that He could bring them to Himself. "Judah became His sanctuary." A sanctuary is a holy place, a place where God dwells. "Israel, His dominion." Dominion means kingdom, the place of His rule. Notice the names used. Judah, the tribe from which the kings would come, is the sanctuary. Israel, the name for the entire nation, is the kingdom. God established His holy presence and His kingly rule right in the midst of His people. This is why creation reacts in the following verses. The created order is not responding to the Israelites themselves, but to the God who is now tabernacling with them. When God pitches His tent among men, things happen.

The sea looked and fled; The Jordan turned back. (v. 3)

Here the psalmist begins to telescope events. He treats the Red Sea crossing at the beginning of the wilderness wanderings and the Jordan River crossing at the end as part of the same divine action. The sea "looked" and fled. What did it see? It saw God's sanctuary in Judah and His dominion in Israel. It saw the presence of the Lord. The response was immediate flight. The same goes for the Jordan. When the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God's presence, stepped into the water, the Jordan "turned back." These are not natural events. This is creation responding to the Creator. The waters that once stood as barriers to God's people became pathways, because the God who made the waters was on the march.

The mountains skipped like rams, The hills, like lambs. (v. 4)

The imagery here is startling and powerful. The most stable and immovable features of the landscape, mountains and hills, are pictured as skipping and leaping like young animals. This is a clear reference to the events at Mount Sinai, when the mountain quaked violently at the presence of God as He descended to give the Law (Exodus 19:18). The whole earth shook because the Lord of all the earth had come down. The poet uses this joyful, almost playful, imagery of skipping rams and lambs to describe a terrifying event. It communicates both the immense power of God, which can make mountains dance, and the underlying joy of the event. God was establishing His covenant, and all creation was stirred.

What disturbs you, O sea, that you flee? O Jordan, that you turn back? (v. 5)

Now the psalmist turns interrogator. He cross-examines the sea and the Jordan with rhetorical questions. It is a brilliant poetic device. He asks them directly, "What's the matter with you? Why are you acting this way?" The question is not for information; it is for emphasis. He is drawing our attention to the cause of this cosmic commotion. The sea and the Jordan are not acting on their own. Something has profoundly disturbed them from their natural course. The implied answer is hanging in the air, creating suspense for the final declaration.

O mountains, that you skip like rams? O hills, like lambs? (v. 6)

The questioning continues, now directed at the mountains and hills. The repetition drives the point home. The entire created order, from the fluid waters to the solid mountains, is in an uproar. Why? What could possibly cause such a universal reaction? The psalmist is making us feel the weight and the wonder of what happened. This was no small thing. The Creator was moving through His creation, and His creation could not remain indifferent.

Tremble, O earth, before the Lord, Before the God of Jacob, (v. 7)

Here is the answer. The psalmist drops the rhetorical questions and issues a command. "Tremble, O earth." The reason the sea fled and the mountains skipped is that the whole earth ought to tremble "before the Lord." The word for Lord here is Adon, the sovereign master. And who is this Lord? He is "the God of Jacob." This is crucial. He is not some distant, abstract deity. He is the covenant-keeping God who revealed Himself to the patriarchs and who has now bound Himself to this redeemed people, the house of Jacob. The presence of the covenant God with His covenant people is the reason for the shaking. When God is with us, who can be against us? Indeed, when God is with us, the very earth takes note.

Who turned the rock into a pool of water, The flint into a spring of water. (v. 8)

The psalm concludes by returning to the wilderness, to God's miraculous provision for His people. He is not only the God who can carve a path through the sea, but He is also the God who can bring water from a rock. He turned the rock, hard, barren, lifeless, into a pool of water. He turned flint, the hardest of rocks, into a gushing spring. This is a picture of God's creative power bringing life from death. And as the apostle Paul tells us, that Rock was Christ (1 Cor. 10:4). The God of Jacob is the God who, in the person of His Son, was struck for us, so that living water might flow out to a thirsty world. The Exodus was a preview. The ultimate sanctuary, the ultimate dominion, is found in Jesus Christ, at whose presence the old creation trembles and before whom the new creation will rejoice forever.