The Book of Psalms

Word Study

"a people of strange language," Hebrew me'am lo'ez (מֵעַם לֹעֵז), a people of foreign tongue. Israel's bondage is described by the strangeness of the tongue around them. They were aliens in Egypt, living among speech they could not call their own, and it is out of that foreignness that God brought them.

"his sanctuary," leqodsho (לְקָדְשׁוֹ). God did not merely bring Israel out of Egypt; He brought them out so that the ransomed people would become the place where God dwells. To be redeemed is to be made God's home.

"his dominion," mamshelotav (מַמְשְׁלוֹתָיו). The other half of the purpose: Israel became the realm where God reigns. Redemption makes a people both God's dwelling and God's kingdom.

"the sea saw it, and fled," hayyam ra'ah vayyanos (הַיָּם רָאָה וַיָּנֹס). The poet describes the Exodus not in plain history but as creation itself reacting to God's approach. The Red Sea draws back to let Israel pass, and "Jordan was driven back," the river parting for them to enter Canaan.

"skipped like rams," raqedu khe'eylim (רָקְדוּ כְאֵילִים). The mountains quake at God's presence like startled sheep. Nature has no calm indifference toward God, and there is a tenderness in the image of "the little hills like lambs", even the smallest parts of creation join the great ones in this trembling dance.

Explanation

Two things in this opening deserve notice. First, what the Exodus was for. God did not merely bring Israel out of Egypt; He brought them out so that "Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his dominion." The point of redemption was that the ransomed people would become the place where God dwells (His sanctuary) and the realm where God reigns (His dominion). To be redeemed is to be made God's home and God's kingdom. Second, notice how the poet describes the events of the Exodus, not in plain history, but as creation itself reacting to God's approach. "The sea saw it, and fled", the Red Sea drawing back to let Israel pass; "Jordan was driven back", the river parting for them to enter Canaan; "The mountains skipped like rams, and the little hills like lambs", Sinai and the peaks quaking at God's presence. It is a picture of the whole created order responding to its Maker: the sea runs away, the mountains dance like startled sheep. Nature has no calm indifference toward God; when He draws near to save His people, the elements themselves leap and flee. And there is a tenderness in the image of the "little hills like lambs", even the smallest parts of creation join the great ones in this trembling dance before the God who comes to redeem.

Gospel Focus

"Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his dominion", the purpose of the Exodus, a redeemed people made God's dwelling and kingdom, is fulfilled in the church through Jesus Christ, for "ye are the temple of the living God" (2 Corinthians 6:16), built together into "an habitation of God through the Spirit" (Ephesians 2:22). Christ has wrought a greater Exodus, leading His people out of the bondage of sin, the "decease" (in Greek, exodus) "which he should accomplish at Jerusalem" (Luke 9:31). And creation still trembles at the presence of its Redeemer, for when He died "the earth did quake, and the rocks rent" (Matthew 27:51), and when He rose "there was a great earthquake" (Matthew 28:2). The sea that fled and the mountains that skipped foreshadow a creation that recognizes its Lord. So rejoice that in Christ you are not only rescued from your Egypt but made God's sanctuary and His dominion, His dwelling and His kingdom for ever.

Word Study

"what ailed thee," Hebrew mah-lekha (מַה־לְּךָ), what is the matter with thee. The poet turns around and questions the creation that has just fled. It is as if he stops the sea in its retreat and the mountains in mid-leap and demands an explanation: what came over you? What frightened you so?

"that thou fleddest," ki tanus (כִּי תָנוּס). The sea has no natural reason to run. By asking the question and holding back the answer for a moment, the poet makes us stop and wonder what power in all the universe could make the great sea run like a frightened child.

"that thou wast driven back," tissov le'achor (תִּסֹּב לְאָחוֹר). Rivers do not ordinarily reverse their course. The question hangs in the air, building the awe, until the next verse gives the only possible answer, so that we cannot pass by the Exodus as a bit of old history.

Explanation

Here the poet does something unexpected and delightful: he turns around and questions the creation that has just fled. "What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest? thou Jordan, that thou wast driven back? Ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams?" It is as if he stops the sea in its retreat and the mountains in mid-leap and demands an explanation: what came over you? What frightened you so? The device is more than poetic play. By asking the question and holding back the answer for a moment, the poet makes us stop and wonder too. The sea has no natural reason to flee; rivers do not ordinarily reverse their course; solid mountains do not skip. So what could possibly account for such upheaval? What power in all the universe could make the great sea run like a frightened child and the ancient hills dance like lambs? The question hangs in the air, building the awe, until the next verse gives the only possible answer. And that is the point: these were no ordinary events, no freak of nature to be explained away. Something, Someone, was present, whose mere approach turned the fixed order of creation upside down. The poet will not let us pass by the Exodus as a bit of old history; he makes us ask what could do such things, so that when the answer comes, we feel its full weight.

Gospel Focus

"What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest?", the question has one answer in every age: the presence of the Lord. And that Lord came among us in Jesus Christ, before whom the sea still bowed, for He "rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still" (Mark 4:39), and the disciples asked in amazement, "what manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" The sea that fled at the Exodus is the sea that obeyed the voice of Christ; the same divine presence commands them both. Wherever the Lord Jesus draws near, the powers that terrify us must give way, sickness flees, demons flee, even death flees at His word. So when you face your own impassable sea or unmovable mountain, remember what makes them flee: not your strength, but the presence of the Lord. Ask, as the psalm asks, what could move such things, and answer with faith: it is the presence of the God of Jacob, who is the Lord Jesus Christ.

Word Study

"tremble," Hebrew chuli (חוּלִי), writhe, be in anguish and awe. The poet turns from the sea and the hills to address the whole earth. If the sea and mountains reeled, let all the earth learn to reverence the God whose coming shakes the world.

"at the presence of the Lord," milifnei Adon (מִלִּפְנֵי אָדוֹן). Here at last is the answer to the questions of verses 5 and 6, and the answer is the whole point. No natural force made the sea flee and the mountains dance; God Himself drew near, and creation could not stay still before Him.

"the God of Jacob," Eloah Ya'aqov (אֱלוֹהַּ יַעֲקֹב). The God whose presence shakes the world is named as the covenant God of one family. The One before whom the earth writhes is the same One who bound Himself to Jacob.

"turned the rock into a standing water," hahofekhi hatzur agam-mayim (הַהֹפְכִי הַצּוּר אֲגַם־מָיִם). Do not miss the tenderness of the last line. The God of the trembling mountains is the God of the flowing rock; the awesome power that shakes creation is the same tender power that gave water to His thirsty people in the desert.

"the flint into a fountain," challamish lemayeno-mayim (חַלָּמִישׁ לְמַעְיְנוֹ־מָיִם). Mark the miracle: not from soft ground, but from flint, the hardest, driest stone, God brought a stream. The God who could shatter the earth chose instead to crack open a rock and give His people drink. Terror and tenderness meet in Him.

Explanation

Now the question of the previous verses is answered, and the answer is the whole point: what made the sea flee and the mountains dance was "the presence of the Lord, the presence of the God of Jacob." No natural force did it; God Himself drew near, and creation could not stay still before Him. And so the poet turns from the sea and the hills to address the whole earth: "Tremble, thou earth, at the presence of the Lord." If the sea and mountains reeled, let all the earth learn to reverence the God whose coming shakes the world. But do not miss the tenderness of the very last line, for it holds a beautiful surprise. The same God whose presence makes the earth tremble is the God "which turned the rock into a standing water, the flint into a fountain of waters." Set the two halves of the psalm side by side. The God of the trembling mountains is the God of the flowing rock; the awesome power that shakes creation is the same tender power that gave water to His thirsty people in the desert, drawing a fountain out of hard flint. And mark the miracle: not from soft ground, but from flint, the hardest, driest stone, God brought a stream. His power is not only terrible but gracious; the God who could shatter the earth chose instead to crack open a rock and give His people drink. Terror and tenderness meet in Him: He shakes the mountains, and He satisfies the thirsty.

Gospel Focus

"Which turned the rock into a standing water, the flint into a fountain of waters", the rock that gave water in the wilderness was a picture of Christ, for "that Rock was Christ" (1 Corinthians 10:4). The God who draws a fountain from flint is the God who opened the smitten Rock of Calvary, so that from Christ crucified flow rivers of living water. He calls, "If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink" (John 7:37), and gives "a well of water springing up into everlasting life." Here is the gospel in the psalm's last image: the same God whose presence makes the earth tremble stoops to give drink to the thirsty, and He does it by way of a stricken rock. The hardest place, the flint, the cross, becomes the fountain of our life. So tremble before the God of Jacob, for He is awesome; but come to Him thirsty, for He is gracious, and in Christ the Rock He will give you living water that never runs dry.