Groaning, Never Grumbling

From The Christian Reader:

Groaning, Never Grumbling


“I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears. Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies. Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity; for the LORD hath heard the voice of my weeping. The LORD hath heard my supplication; the LORD will receive my prayer. Let all mine enemies be ashamed and sore vexed: let them return and be ashamed suddenly.” (Psalm 6:6-10)



Verse 6. The Psalmist gives a fearful description of his long agony: “I am weary with my groaning.” He has groaned till his throat was hoarse; he had cried for mercy till prayer became a labour. God’s people may groan, but they may not grumble. Yea, they must groan, being burdened, or they will never shout in the day of deliverance. The next sentence, we think, is not accurately translated. It should be, “I shall make my bed to swim every night” (when nature needs rest, and when I am most alone with my God). That is to say, my grief is fearful even now, but if God do not soon save me, it will not stay of itself, but will increase, until my tears will be so many, that my bed itself shall swim. A description rather of what he feared would be, than of what had actually taken place. May not our forebodings of future woe become arguments which faith may urge when seeking present mercy?



Verse 7. “I water my couch with my tears. Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all my enemies.” As an old man’s eye grows dim with years, so, says David, my eye is grown red and feeble through weeping. Conviction sometimes has such an effect upon the body, that even the outward organs are made to suffer. May not this explain some of the convulsions and hysterical attacks which have been experienced under convictions in the revivals in Ireland? Is it surprising that some souls be smitten to the earth, and begin to cry aloud; when we find that David himself made his bed to swim, and grew old while he was under the heavy hand of God? Ah! brethren, it is no light matter to feel one’s self a sinner, condemned at the bar of God. The language of this Psalm is not strained and forced, but perfectly natural to one in so sad a plight.







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Verse 8. Hitherto, all has been mournful and disconsolate, but now—



“Your harps, ye trembling saints, Down from the willows take.” Ye must have your times of weeping, but let them be short. Get ye up, get ye up, from your dunghills! Cast aside your sackcloth and ashes! Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.



David has found peace, and rising from his knees he begins to sweep his house of the wicked. “Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.” The best remedy for us against an evil man is a long space between us both. “Get ye gone; I can have no fellowship with you.” Repentance is a practical thing. It is not enough to bemoan the desecration of the temple of the heart, we must scourge out the buyers and sellers, and overturn the tables of the money changers. A pardoned sinner will hate the sins which cost the Saviour his blood. Grace and sin are quarrelsome neighbours, and one or the other must go to the wall.



“For the Lord hath hear the voice of my weeping.” What a fine Hebraism, and what grand poetry it is in English! “He hath heard the voice of my weeping.” Is there a voice in weeping? Does weeping speak? In what language doth it utter its meaning? Why, in that universal tongue which is known and understood in all the earth, and even in heaven above. When a man weeps, whether he be a Jew or Gentile, Barbarian, Scythian, bond or free, it has the same meaning in it. Weeping is the eloquence of sorrow. It is an unstammering orator, needing no interpreter, but understood of all. Is it not sweet to believe that our tears are understood even when words fail? Let us learn to think of tears as liquid prayers, and of weeping as a constant dropping of importunate intercession which will wear its way right surely into the very heart of mercy, despite the stony difficulties which obstruct the way. My God, I will “weep” when I cannot plead, for thou hearest the voice of my weeping.



Verse 9. “The Lord hath heard my supplication.” The Holy Spirit had wrought into the Psalmist’s mind the confidence that his prayer was heard. This is frequently the privilege of the saints. Praying the prayer of faith, they are often infallibly assured that they have prevailed with God. We read of Luther that, having on one occasion wrestled hard with God in prayer, he came leaping out of his closet crying, “Vicimus, vicimus;” that is, We have conquered, we have prevailed with God.” Assured confidence is no idle dream, for when the Holy Ghost bestows it upon us, we know its reality, and could not doubt it, even though all men should deride our boldness. “The Lord will receive my prayer.” Here is past experience used for future encouragement. He hath, he will. Note this, O believer, and imitate its reasoning.



Verse 10. “Let all mine enemies be ashamed and sore vexed.” This is rather a prophecy than an imprecation, it may be read in the future, “All my enemies shall be ashamed and sore vexed.” They shall return and be ashamed instantaneously,—in a moment;—their doom shall come upon them suddenly. Death’s day is doom’s day, and both are sure and may be sudden. The Romans were wont to say, “The feet of the avenging Deity are shod with wool.” With noiseless footsteps vengeance nears its victim, and sudden and overwhelming shall be its destroying stroke. If this were an imprecation, we must remember that the language of the old dispensation is not that of the new. We pray for our enemies, not against them. God have mercy on them, and bring them into the right way. Thus the Psalm, like those which preceed it, shews the different estates of the godly and the wicked. O Lord, let us be numbered with thy people, both now and forever!



by Charles Spurgeon, from The Treasury of David