From the Soil of Our Pain Text: Psalm 129:1-4
Introduction: The History of Hatred
The history of the world is a history of two seeds, and the enmity between them. From the moment God promised that the seed of the woman would crush the serpent's head, the serpent has been lashing out, attempting to strike the heel. The very first death in human history was a martyr's death; Abel was killed by his brother Cain, and for what? For righteousness' sake. This is the pattern. This is the way of the world. No sooner is the man child of Revelation born than the dragon is right there, seeking to devour him. The world hates the church for the same reason Cain hated Abel. Our very existence is a testimony against them, and their consciences cannot bear it.
This psalm, one of the Songs of Ascents, is a corporate testimony. It is a song for the people of God to sing on their way up to worship in Jerusalem. And what are they singing about? They are singing about the long story of their suffering. This is not a dirge, not a lament of defeat. It is a defiant declaration of survival, a testimony to the persistent, rugged, unconquerable grace of God. It is a song that looks back on centuries of affliction, from Egypt to Babylon and beyond, and declares in the face of it all, "Yet they have not prevailed against me."
We must understand that Scripture teaches two great forms of deliverance. First, God delivers us from the bondage of our own sins. He breaks the chains of our own lusts and foolishness and sets us free. This is the foundational deliverance. But the moment that happens, a second deliverance becomes necessary. God must then deliver us from the spite and hatred of those who resent the fact that we have been set free. They remain in their chains, and they hate the sound of our freedom. This psalm is about that second kind of deliverance. It is a song for the persecuted, for the afflicted, for the church that has been under the plow of the world's contempt from its youth up.
And as we live in a generation that is increasingly hostile to the claims of Christ, this is a song we need to learn to sing. We must understand the nature of the affliction, the identity of the afflicters, and the glorious, righteous intervention of our God. This is not a psalm of complaint; it is a psalm of confidence. It is a battle cry that acknowledges the wounds of the past in order to celebrate the victory of our God.
The Text
A Song of Ascents.
"Many times they have assailed me from my youth up,"
Let Israel now say,
"Many times they have assailed me from my youth up;
Yet they have not prevailed against me.
The plowers plowed upon my back;
They lengthened their furrows."
Yahweh is righteous;
He has cut up the cords of the wicked.
(Psalm 129:1-4 LSB)
The Corporate Confession of Affliction (vv. 1-2)
The psalm begins with a summons for Israel to give public testimony.
"Many times they have assailed me from my youth up," Let Israel now say, "Many times they have assailed me from my youth up; Yet they have not prevailed against me." (Psalm 129:1-2)
Notice the structure. The psalmist begins the testimony, and then calls on the entire congregation, "Let Israel now say," to join in the chorus. This is not a private grievance. This is the shared history of God's covenant people. The "youth" of Israel refers to their beginnings, their time of bondage in Egypt. From the very start, from their national infancy, they have been under attack. Pharaoh tried to destroy them. The Amalekites attacked them. The Philistines harassed them. The Assyrians and Babylonians conquered them. "Many times" is an understatement.
This is the biography of the church. The world system, under the dominion of its prince, has always hated the people of God. Jesus promised us this would be the case. "If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you" (John 15:18). This hatred is not arbitrary. It is theological. It is a deep-seated animosity toward the Christ we represent. When Saul was persecuting the church, Jesus did not ask, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting my people?" He asked, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" (Acts 9:4). An attack on the body is an attack on the head.
But the testimony does not end with the affliction. The glorious, central declaration is this: "Yet they have not prevailed against me." This is the story of God's preservation. The bush burns, but it is not consumed. The church is hammered, but the anvil breaks the hammers. The world has thrown everything it has at the people of God, and the people of God are still here, still singing. Why? Because our survival does not depend on our strength, but on God's faithfulness. "I will build My church," Jesus said, "and the gates of Hades will not overpower it" (Matthew 16:18). The enemy has won many battles, but they have already lost the war. They have inflicted many wounds, but they have never delivered a mortal blow.
This is a profound encouragement. When we face hostility, whether it is the sneering contempt of a coworker or the organized persecution of a hostile state, we are participating in an ancient story. And the end of that story has already been written. They will not prevail.
The Agony of the Plow (v. 3)
Verse 3 provides a visceral, graphic image of this suffering.
"The plowers plowed upon my back; They lengthened their furrows." (Psalm 129:3 LSB)
This is not a gentle metaphor. This is the language of torture. It brings to mind the scourging that was a common feature of ancient cruelty. The back of the nation is pictured as a field, and the wicked are plowing it, cutting deep, long gashes into the flesh. This is a picture of intense, deliberate, and methodical pain. The furrows are long, indicating a sustained and pitiless assault.
This imagery points us directly to the sufferings of Christ. Isaiah prophesied of the Messiah, "I gave My back to those who strike Me" (Isaiah 50:6). The Roman scourge, the flagrum, was a whip designed to tear flesh from bone. When Pilate had Jesus scourged, the plowers were literally plowing upon His back. His suffering was the ultimate expression of the world's hatred for God's righteousness. All the furrows of history converged on His back.
But there is another layer to this metaphor. What is the purpose of plowing? A farmer plows a field because he intends to plant something. He purposes a crop. The wicked, in their malice, plow the backs of the saints because they intend to grow a crop of their own, a crop of despair, apostasy, and bitterness. They want to sow their demonic seed in the wounds they create and reap a harvest of ruin.
This is what the devil is always after in our afflictions. He wants to use the pain to grow something foul in the soil of our hearts. He wants to plant seeds of doubt about God's goodness, seeds of resentment against our persecutors, seeds of self-pity that will choke out our faith. The plowing is the means to their agricultural end. They are farming for hell.
The Righteous Intervention (v. 4)
Just as the image of suffering reaches its peak, the psalmist pivots to the glorious reality of God's deliverance.
"Yahweh is righteous; He has cut up the cords of the wicked." (Psalm 129:4 LSB)
This is the turning point. The declaration "Yahweh is righteous" is the foundation of our hope. What does it mean that God is righteous? It means He is true to His own character and faithful to His covenant promises. He has promised to preserve His people, and His righteousness compels Him to act. His justice is not an abstract, sentimental thing. It is an active, intervening force in history.
And how does His righteousness manifest itself here? "He has cut up the cords of the wicked." The image is agricultural. The "cords" are the leather traces or ropes that connect the plow to the oxen. The wicked are plowing away, lengthening their furrows on the back of God's people, and just as they are in the middle of their cruel work, God steps in. With a swift, decisive act, He takes a knife and cuts the traces. The connection is severed. The oxen run off, the plow comes to a halt, and the wicked plower is left standing there, impotent and frustrated.
This is a magnificent picture of divine deliverance. God often allows the wicked to begin their work. He lets them hitch up their oxen and start their plowing. He lets them lengthen their furrows. But He never lets them finish the job. He never lets them reap the crop they intend to sow. At the moment of His choosing, He intervenes. He cuts the cords. He did it at the Red Sea. He did it when He delivered Israel from Babylon. And He did it supremely at the cross.
The enemies of Christ plowed His back, nailed Him to the tree, and sealed the tomb. They thought they had finally destroyed the heir and secured the vineyard for themselves. But on the third day, the righteous God cut the cords of death itself. He severed the authority of the wicked, and the plow of death was broken forever.
God's Counter-Harvest
This brings us to the glorious irony of God's providence. The wicked intend to sow their crop of despair in the furrows of our affliction. But God, by cutting the cords, hijacks their labor for His own purposes. He allows them to do the hard work of plowing, of breaking up the fallow ground of our hearts. And then, when the soil is prepared, He steps in to sow His own seed and reap His own harvest.
What does God grow in the furrows plowed by the wicked? He grows patience. He grows endurance. He grows a deeper hatred of sin and a more profound love for His grace. He grows joy. The devil wants to grow despair in the furrows of your affliction, but God intends to grow joy. Paul tells us that "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" (2 Corinthians 4:17). The plowing is producing a harvest, but it is God's harvest, not the devil's.
This transforms how we view our suffering. The pain is real. The furrows are deep. But the one who is ultimately in charge of this field is our righteous Father. He is the master farmer. He takes the malice of the wicked and makes it serve His glorious purpose. He takes the very soil of our pain and from it, He brings forth a crop that will glorify His name for all eternity.
Therefore, when you are assailed, when the plowers are on your back, do not despair. Remember the long history of God's people. They have not prevailed. Remember the righteous character of your God. He is faithful. And look for His hand. He is the one who will, at the perfect moment, cut the cords. And He is the one who will ensure that the crop that grows in those furrows is not the bitter fruit of the enemy, but the golden harvest of His grace. You can look at every furrow on your back, cut by every lying plow, and know that God intends to bring a resurrection crop out of it. And for that, we can bless His name.