1 Only upon God [waits] my soul [in] silence: From Him is my salvation. 2 Only He is my rock and my salvation, My high tower, I shall not be greatly moved. 3 How long will ye rush upon a man? [How long] will ye all of you break him down, Like a bulging wall, a tottering fence? 4 Only from his elevation do they consult to thrust him down, they delight in lies: Each blesses with his mouth, and in their inner [part] they curse. Selah.
5 Only to God be silent, my soul, For from Him is my expectation. 6 Only He is my rock and my salvation, My high tower; I shall not be moved. 7 On God is my salvation and my glory, The rock of my strength, my refuge, is in God. 8 Trust in him in every time, O people! Pour out before Him your heart, God is a refuge for us. Selah.
9 Only vanity are the sons of the lowly, a lie are the sons of the lofty, In the scales they go up, they are [lighter] than vanity altogether. 10 Trust not in oppressions and in robbery become not vain, When wealth grows, set not your heart thereon. 11 Once has God spoken, twice have I heard this, That strength [belongs] to God. 12 And to Thee, O God, [belongs] loving-kindness, For Thou, Thou renderest to a man according to his work.
There are several points of affinity between this psalm and the thirty-ninth,--such as the frequent use of the particle of asseveration or restriction ("surely" or "only"); the rare and beautiful word for "silence," as expressing restful, still resignation; and the characterisation of men as "vanity." These resemblances are not proofs of identity of authorship, though establishing a presumption in its favour. Delitzsch accepts the psalm as Davidic, and refers it to the time of Absalom's revolt. The singer is evidently in a position of dignity ("elevation," ver. 4), and one whose exhortations come with force to the "people" (ver. 8), whether that word is understood as designating the nation or his immediate followers. Cheyne, who relegates the psalm to the Persian period, feels that the recognition of the singer as "a personage who is the Church's bulwark" is the natural impression on reading the psalm ("Orig. of Psalt.," 227, and 242, _n._). If so, David's position is precisely that which is required. Whoever sang this immortal psalm, rose to the heights of conquering faith, and gave voice to the deepest and most permanent emotions of devout souls.
The psalm is in three strophes of four verses each, the divisions being marked by Selah. The two former have a long refrain at the beginning, instead of, as usually, at the end. In the first the psalmist sets his quiet trust in contrast with the furious assaults of his foes; while, in the second, he stirs himself to renewed exercise of it, and exhorts others to share with him in the security of God as a place of refuge. In the third strophe the nothingness of man is set in strong contrast to the power and loving-kindness of God, and the dehortation from trust in material wealth urged as the negative side of the previous exhortation to trust in God.
The noble saying of ver. 1 _a_ is hard to translate without weakening. The initial word may have the meanings of "Only" or "Surely." The former seems more appropriate in this psalm, where it occurs six times, in one only of which (ver. 4) does the latter seem the more natural rendering, though even there the other is possible. It is, however, to be noticed that its restrictive power is not always directed to the adjacent word; and here it may either present God as the exclusive object of the psalmist's waiting trust, or his whole soul as being nothing else but silent resignation. The reference to God is favoured by ver. 2, but the other is possible. The psalmist's whole being is, as it were, but one stillness of submission. The noises of contending desires, the whispers of earthly hopes, the mutterings of short-sighted fears, the self-asserting accents of an insisting will, are hushed, and all his nature waits mutely for God's voice. No wonder that a psalm which begins thus should end with "God hath spoken once, twice have I heard this"; for such waiting is never in vain. The soul that cleaves to God is still; and, being still, is capable of hearing the Divine whispers which deepen the silence which they bless. "There is no joy but calm"; and the secret of calm is to turn the current of the being to God. Then it is like a sea at rest.