Commentary - Psalm 120

Bird's-eye view

This psalm is the first of fifteen psalms called the Songs of Ascent (or Degrees). While the precise meaning of this title is lost to us, the most compelling view is that these were pilgrim songs, sung by the faithful Israelites as they would "go up" to Jerusalem for the great feasts. This first song, then, is what you might sing as you lock the front door behind you, leaving the world of liars and slanderers to go and worship the God of all truth. It is a lament about the soul-crushing reality of living among liars. The psalmist is in distress, surrounded by deceit, and he does what every sane Christian should do. He cries out to Yahweh, who is a God who hears and answers. The psalm moves from the initial cry and the immediate assurance of being heard, to a denunciation of the lying tongue, to a lament over the psalmist's location among a hostile and barbaric people. He is a man of peace in a world that is hell-bent on war.

The central conflict here is between the man who wants peace and the men who are for war, between the man who loves truth and the men who deal in lies. This is not just an ancient problem; we live in a time that is dominated by the Lie. It is the coin of the realm. This psalm teaches us that the first step in our pilgrimage toward the New Jerusalem is to recognize the foul nature of the world we are leaving behind, a world built on deception, and to cry out to God for deliverance from it.

Outline

Context: The Songs of Ascent

As mentioned, this is the first of the Songs of Ascent (Psalms 120-134). Think of this collection as a hymnal for a road trip, a divine mixtape for the journey to Zion. When the faithful left their homes to travel to the Temple, they were not just changing geography; they were undertaking a spiritual discipline. They were leaving the mundane, the compromised, the often hostile territory of their daily lives, and were ascending to the place where God had put His name. This first psalm sets the tone for the entire pilgrimage. It begins with the recognition that the world down below is a place of lies, a place of sharp tongues and conflict. The pilgrim's heart longs for the courts of the Lord because he longs for truth and peace, which are found in God alone. This psalm is the necessary starting point; you cannot truly desire Jerusalem until you have grown weary of Babylon.

Verse by Verse Commentary

A Song of Ascents.

v. 1 In my distress I called to Yahweh, And He answered me.

The psalm begins at the end of the matter. Before the psalmist even tells us what his distress is, he tells us the outcome. He cried out, and God heard him. This is bedrock covenant faith. Our God is not a distant, deistic clockmaker. He is a Father who hears the cries of His children. The word for distress here indicates a tight, narrow, constricting place. This is the feeling of being trapped by slander, cornered by lies. There's no room to maneuver. When you find yourself in that kind of jam, the only way out is up. You call to Yahweh. And the testimony of the saints across all ages is this: He answers. This opening verse is a stout confession of God's faithfulness, and it frames the entire lament that follows not in despair, but in hope.

v. 2 O Yahweh, deliver my soul from a lying lip, From a deceitful tongue.

Here is the specific nature of the distress: lying lips and a deceitful tongue. Notice the target is the psalmist's very "soul." Lies are not trivial. Slander is not a sticks-and-stones affair that can be shrugged off. Words have the power to kill, to destroy, to undo a man's life and reputation. The lying lip is the external organ, but the deceitful tongue points to the malicious craftiness behind it. This isn't just a mistake or a misstatement; this is calculated deception. The psalmist understands that this kind of assault is something from which only God can deliver him. You cannot reason with a liar, you cannot out-maneuver a slanderer on his own terms, because he doesn't play by any rules. Your only recourse is to appeal to the Judge of all the earth.

v. 3 What shall He give to you, and what shall He add to you, O deceitful tongue?

The psalmist now turns and addresses the deceitful tongue directly. This is a taunt, a challenge rooted in his confidence that God is a God of justice. The question is rhetorical. "What do you think you're going to get out of all this lying? What's your payday going to be?" He is asking about the liar's recompense, the wages for his work of deceit. And the implied answer is that the only thing the liar will receive is judgment. He is sowing the wind, and he will reap the whirlwind. The psalmist is not asking what damage the tongue will do, but rather what damage will be done to the tongue. This is a question about divine retribution.

v. 4 Sharp arrows of the warrior, With the burning coals of the broom tree.

And here is the answer to the question. What will God give the deceitful tongue? He will give it what it has dished out, but in a purified and lethally effective form. The liar's words were like arrows, shot in the dark to wound and kill. God's response will be sharp arrows of a mighty warrior, arrows that never miss their mark. This is God's righteous judgment. The liar will also receive the burning coals of the broom tree. The wood of the broom tree was known for burning extremely hot and for a very long time. This speaks of a searching, enduring, and all-consuming judgment. God's justice is not a flash in the pan. It is a slow, hot, purifying fire. This is the end of all who make lies their refuge.

v. 5 Woe is me, for I sojourn in Meshech, For I dwell among the tents of Kedar!

The psalmist now laments his present circumstances. Meshech and Kedar were distant, uncivilized, and warlike peoples. It is unlikely that the psalmist, probably David, literally lived in these places. Rather, he is using them as metaphors for the kind of culture he is surrounded by. To live among liars and haters of peace is to feel like an exile in a barbaric land, even if you are in your own country. It is to feel alienated, a stranger and a sojourner. This is the Christian condition. We are citizens of a heavenly kingdom, and so we are always living as resident aliens in the kingdoms of men, which are all, to one degree or another, Meshech and Kedar.

v. 6 Too long has my soul had its dwelling With those who hate peace.

This is the cry of a weary soul. "Too long." There is an exhaustion that comes from living constantly on guard, constantly dealing with strife and animosity. The problem is not just that his neighbors are occasionally quarrelsome. The problem is that they hate peace. Their very nature is oriented toward conflict. Peace is an affront to them. They thrive on chaos, on accusations, on war. The psalmist's soul has been dwelling here, marinating in this hostility, and he is sick of it. This is a righteous weariness, a longing for the shalom that only God can provide.

v. 7 I am for peace, but when I speak, They are for war.

Here is the fundamental antithesis, the unbridgeable chasm. The psalmist's disposition is for peace. In Hebrew, it is starkly, "I peace." His very being is oriented toward shalom. But the moment he opens his mouth, even to speak of peace, his enemies are for war. His desire for reconciliation is taken as a weakness to be exploited. His call for reason is met with irrational hostility. There is no common ground. This is the seed of the woman versus the seed of the serpent. When Christ, the Prince of Peace, came into the world, He spoke words of life and peace, and they crucified Him. The world hates peace because it hates the Prince of Peace. And so for the Christian pilgrim, the journey begins with this recognition: the world we are leaving is a world that is for war.