Commentary - Psalm 119:105-112

Bird's-eye view

In this stanza of the great Psalm, the psalmist lays out the stark contrast between the steadfast light of God's Word and the perilous darkness of the world. This is not a theoretical exercise. The world he inhabits is one of deep affliction, constant danger, and malicious snares laid by the wicked. In response, he does not despair, but rather doubles down on his commitment. He swears an oath, he offers up his praise, and he clings to the law of God as his joyful, eternal inheritance. This section is a powerful testimony to the practical sufficiency of Scripture for the believer who is walking through the valley of the shadow of death. It is a declaration that obedience is not a fair-weather enterprise, but a resolute, lifelong bending of the heart toward God, come what may.


Outline


Verse-by-Verse Commentary

105 Your word is a lamp to my feet And a light to my path.

Here we have one of the most famous lines in all the psalms, and for good reason. It establishes the absolute necessity and sufficiency of Scripture for the Christian life. Notice the two-fold function. It is a lamp for my feet, which means it illuminates the very next step I am to take. Should I take this job? Should I make that phone call? The Word gives immediate, practical guidance. But it is also a light for my path. This is the long view. It shows the destination, the trajectory of a whole life lived faithfully before God. The world offers us flashlights with dying batteries, promising to show us the way, but they only reveal the mud and then flicker out. God's Word is a perpetual light, guiding both the particular decisions and the overall direction of our lives. Without it, we are simply stumbling in the dark.

106 I have sworn and I have confirmed, To keep Your righteous judgments.

This is not a flimsy New Year's resolution. This is the language of a solemn covenant oath. The psalmist has not just decided to give obedience a try; he has bound himself to it. "I have sworn, and I will perform it" (KJV). This is the nature of true Christian commitment. At our baptism, we take an oath. When we come to the Lord's Table, we renew that oath. We are a covenant people, and our relationship with God is defined by these binding promises. He has sworn to be our God, and we have sworn to be His people. The psalmist understands this. His obedience is not rooted in his fluctuating feelings but in a settled, confirmed, and sworn decision to keep God's righteous judgments.

107 I am exceedingly afflicted; O Yahweh, revive me according to Your word.

Right after the high point of his sworn oath comes the reality of his desperate situation. "I am exceedingly afflicted." Faithfulness to God is no exemption from suffering; it is often the direct cause of it. The world does not applaud a man who swears allegiance to God's law. But notice his plea. He does not ask to be revived according to his own sense of fairness, or according to his circumstances, or according to his feelings. He asks to be revived "according to Your word." His hope for life, for spiritual quickening, is located in the promises of God. When affliction presses in, the faithful man does not look inward for strength or outward for escape, but upward to the God who has spoken and whose Word gives life.

108 Oh be pleased with the freewill offerings of my mouth, O Yahweh, And teach me Your judgments.

In the midst of his affliction, he is still worshiping. The "freewill offerings of my mouth" are his prayers and his praises. This is the sacrifice that pleases God (Heb. 13:15). He is not a transactional worshiper, praising God only when things are going well. He offers his praise freely, even from the depths. And what does his worshipful heart desire? More instruction. "Teach me Your judgments." True praise always cultivates a deeper hunger for obedience. The man who truly loves God wants to know how to please Him better. His worship and his desire for the law are two sides of the same coin.

109 My soul is continually in my hand, Yet I do not forget Your law.

This is a Hebrew idiom for living in constant and mortal danger. To carry your life in your hand is to be in a precarious situation where it could be lost at any moment. He is walking on a knife's edge. This is the reality for many saints throughout history, and it is becoming the reality for many in our own time. But the peril does not distract him from his central commitment. "Yet I do not forget Your law." The law of God is not a peacetime luxury; it is a battlefield necessity. When everything else is uncertain and perilous, the steadfastness of God's Word is the only anchor that holds.

110 The wicked have laid a snare for me, Yet I have not wandered from Your precepts.

Here the danger is given a specific source. This is not random, impersonal suffering. This is targeted, intelligent opposition from the wicked. Snares are traps, designed to catch the unwary and bring them down. The world is full of such snares: the snare of compromise, the snare of worldly acceptance, the snare of fear. The pressure to wander from the path, to take a shortcut, to get out of the line of fire, is immense. But the psalmist's testimony is one of steadfastness. "Yet I have not wandered." Fidelity is proven not in the absence of temptation, but in the face of it.

111 I have inherited Your testimonies forever, For they are the joy of my heart.

This is the secret to his perseverance. Why does he not wander? Because he views God's law not as a burden, but as a glorious inheritance. An inheritance is a precious possession, something to be treasured and guarded. It is his forever. And this inheritance is not a grim duty; it is the very "joy of my heart." The Puritans called this the "expulsive power of a new affection." The reason he is not ensnared by the fleeting pleasures of the world is that his heart is captivated by a far greater joy, the joy found in the Word of God. This is the heart of true obedience. It is not duty-driven, but delight-driven.

112 I have inclined my heart to do Your statutes Forever, to the end.

The stanza concludes with this settled resolution. "I have inclined my heart." This is a deliberate act of the will. Our hearts, by nature, are inclined away from God. They are bent toward sin. The act of sanctification is the act of continually and consciously bending our hearts back toward God's statutes. This is our responsibility. And this is not a short-term project. He has inclined his heart "Forever, to the end." This is a lifelong commitment, with no retirement date. The Hebrew for "to the end" also carries the sense of "for a reward." We incline our hearts to obey forever, right up to the end, because we know that at the end, there is a great reward laid up for all who have loved His appearing.


Application

The Christian life as described here is not safe, but it is secure. It is a walk through a minefield of snares and afflictions, but it is a walk guided by an unfailing light. We must recover this robust, wartime mentality. Our central task is to swear our allegiance to the King and then, come what may, to stick to it. This requires us to see the Word not as a helpful accessory but as our very lifeblood.

We must pray for revival, but we must pray for it on God's terms, "according to Your word." We must worship, offering the sacrifices of our lips, and that worship must drive us to a deeper love for God's law. And supremely, we must cultivate a deep and abiding joy in the Word of God. If we see God's law as our glorious inheritance and the joy of our hearts, the snares of the wicked will lose their appeal. Let us therefore incline our hearts, bending them daily toward His statutes, and resolve to continue in this way forever, to the very end.