Commentary - Psalm 130:1-4

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 130 is one of the seven penitential psalms, and it is a model for how a sinner is to approach a holy God. This is a song of ascents, meaning it was sung by pilgrims on their way up to Jerusalem, preparing their hearts for worship. The movement of the psalm is itself an ascent, a climb out of the depths of personal sin and despair into the heights of corporate hope and redemption. The psalmist progresses through four distinct stages: a raw cry of desire from the depths (vv. 1-2), a profound confession of sin and God's holiness (vv. 3-4), a period of watchful waiting (vv. 5-6), and finally, an expectant hope that extends to all of God's people (vv. 7-8). This psalm teaches us that the only way up is to first go down, acknowledging the pit we are in because of our own sin.

The central paradox of the psalm, and indeed of the gospel itself, is found in verse four. Forgiveness is with God, not so that we might trifle with Him, but precisely so "that You may be feared." This is not the craven fear of a criminal before a judge, but the clean, filial fear of a son who has been received back into his father's house. It is a fear born of astonishing grace, a fear that produces worship, not flight. The psalm moves from the particular crisis of one man to the universal need of all Israel, showing that true repentance is never entirely private. My sin is my own, but the solution to my sin is a corporate one, found in the covenant community and the God who promises to redeem His people from all their iniquities.

Outline

Context In Psalms

As a Song of Ascents (Psalms 120-134), this psalm was part of the liturgical songbook for pilgrims traveling to Jerusalem for the great feasts. The journey was a physical ascent, and these songs were meant to facilitate a spiritual ascent. Psalm 130 is particularly potent in this context. Before a man can stand in the holy city, before he can approach the temple, he must first reckon with his own unholiness. This psalm is the prayer of a man who knows he is unfit to ascend, and so he cries out to the only one who can lift him up. It is a psalm of preparation, clearing the ground of self-righteousness to build a foundation of grace. It follows psalms of trust and dependence and precedes psalms of quiet confidence, serving as the necessary turning point of repentance.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 Out of the depths I called to You, O Yahweh.

The psalmist begins where every true saint must begin, and that is in the depths. These are not the depths of unfortunate circumstances or random troubles. The context makes it clear that these are the depths of sin, a pit of his own digging. He is not making excuses or pointing fingers. He is at the bottom, and he knows how he got there. This is the first step of genuine repentance: acknowledging the reality of your position. He is not in a ditch; he is in "the depths," a place of drowning, of being overwhelmed. And from this place, there is only one direction to look. He calls, he cries out, to Yahweh. He knows the name of the covenant God, and it is on the basis of that covenant relationship that he dares to call at all. He is in the depths, but he has not despaired, because he knows who God is.

2 O Lord, hear my voice! Let Your ears be attentive To the voice of my supplications.

Having cried out, he now pleads to be heard. This is not a question of God's omniscience, as though God were hard of hearing. The psalmist is not asking for God to simply register the sound waves. To "hear" in the biblical sense is to hear and to act, to respond favorably. He is asking God to incline His ear, to give a gracious hearing to his plea. He doubles the request, first asking the Lord to hear his voice, and then to be attentive to his supplications. This is the earnestness of a desperate man. He knows that if God does not choose to listen, if God remains aloof, then he will perish in the depths. His only hope is a God who not only can hear, but who is willing to listen to the pleas of a sinner. This is a prayer for grace, a prayer that God would deal with him not on the basis of what he deserves, but on the basis of God's own merciful character.

3 If You should keep iniquities, O Yah, O Lord, who could stand?

Here is the heart of the confession. The psalmist moves from his desperate situation to the theological reality that underpins it. He poses a rhetorical question, and the implied answer is a thunderous "no one." If God were to keep a strict record of sins, if He were to "mark iniquities" as a prosecutor building a case, then no man could possibly stand. To "stand" means to endure judgment, to be acquitted in the heavenly court. The psalmist understands God's perfect holiness. He knows that if justice is the only standard, every man is condemned. Imagine a great bowl at the right hand of the Father, and for every sin, a black stone is dropped in. The bowl would overflow before breakfast. This verse levels the playing field. It demolishes all pride and self-righteousness. Before a holy God, we are all in the same boat, and the boat is sinking. Who could stand? Not Abraham, not Moses, not David. No one.

4 But with You there is forgiveness, That You may be feared.

This "but" is one of the greatest turning points in all of Scripture. It is the hinge on which the gospel swings. After the devastating reality of verse 3, here is the astounding announcement of grace. "But with You there is forgiveness." Forgiveness is not something God has to work up; it is an essential part of His character. It resides "with" Him. He is the God who pardons iniquity (Micah 7:18). And why does He do this? The reason given here is shocking to our modern sensibilities. He forgives "that You may be feared." We would expect it to say, "that you may be loved," or "that you may be relieved." But the result of true, gospel forgiveness is a holy, reverent, worshipful fear. This is not the servile fear of a slave who dreads the whip. That is the fear that comes from marked iniquities. This is the clean fear of a child who has been shown incomprehensible mercy. It is the awe-filled astonishment that the God who had every right to destroy me has instead chosen to forgive me. This kind of grace does not produce licentiousness; it produces adoration. It makes us tremble at the cost of our pardon, the precious blood of Christ, and it makes us walk softly before the God who paid it.

Application

This psalm is a roadmap for every Christian who finds himself in the depths. The way out is not to pretend you are not in a pit, or to try and climb out on your own. The way out is to cry out to the God who is Lord over the depths.

First, we must own our sin. We get into trouble because of our own foolishness, our own rebellion. We must start there, with an honest assessment of our condition. We are in the depths, and it is our fault.

Second, we must understand the gravity of our situation. If God were to deal with us according to our sins, we would be undone. There is no hope in our own merits. If you are ever tempted to think that you are basically a good person, meditate on verse 3 until that notion is entirely obliterated.

Third, we must cling to the "but" of the gospel. Our hope is not in our performance, but in God's character. With Him there is forgiveness. This forgiveness was purchased at an infinite cost, the death of His Son. When we receive this forgiveness, it should not make us casual about sin. It should produce in us a profound and holy fear, a desire to please the one who has been so gracious to us. This is the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom. It is a fear that is clean, a fear that is glad, a fear that leads to life.