1 How long, Yahweh? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?
*Minor differences ignored. Grouped by changes, with first version listed as example.
How long, O Jehovah. It is very true that David was so greatly hated by the generality of people, on account of the calumnies and false reports which had been circulated against him, that almost all men judged that God was not less hostile to him than Saul [1] and his other enemies were. But here he speaks not so much according to the opinion of others, as according to the feeling of his own mind, when he complains of being neglected by God. Not that the persuasion of the truth of God's promises was extinguished in his heart, or that he did not repose himself on his grace; but when we are for a long time weighed down by calamities, and when we do not perceive any sign of divine aid, this thought unavoidably forces itself upon us, that God has forgotten us. To acknowledge in the midst of our afflictions that God has really a care about us, is not the usual way with men, or what the feelings of nature would prompt; but by faith we apprehend his invisible providence. Thus, it seemed to David, so far as could be judged from beholding the actual state of his affairs, that he was forsaken of God. At the same time, however, the eyes of his mind, guided by the light of faith, penetrated even to the grace of God, although it was hidden in darkness. When he saw not a single ray of good hope to whatever quarter he turned, so far as human reason could judge, constrained by grief, he cries out that God did not regard him; and yet by this very complaint he gives evidence that faith enabled him to rise higher, and to conclude, contrary to the judgment of the flesh, that his welfare was secure in the hand of God. Had it been otherwise, how could he direct his groanings and prayers to him? Following this example, we must so wrestle against temptations as to be assured by faith, even in the very midst of the conflict, that the calamities which urge us to despair must be overcome; just as we see that the infirmity of the flesh could not hinder David from seeking God, and having recourse to him: and thus he has united in his exercise, very beautifully, affections which are apparently contrary to each other. The words, How long, for ever? are a defective form of expression; but they are much more emphatic than if he had put the question according to the usual mode of speaking, Why for so long a time? By speaking thus, he gives us to understand, that for the purpose of cherishing his hope, and encouraging himself in the exercise of patience, he extended his view to a distance, and that, therefore, he does not complain of a calamity of a few days' duration, as the effeminate and the cowardly are accustomed to do, who see only what is before their feet, and immediately succumb at the first assault. He teaches us, therefore, by his example, to stretch our view as far as possible into the future, that our present grief may not entirely deprive us of hope.
1 - It was the opinion of Theodoret that this psalm was composed by David, not during his persecution by Saul, but when Absalom conspired against him; and the reason which he assigns for this opinion is, "that the trouble which Saul gave him was before his great sin, and so he was full of confidence; but that of Absalom was after it, which made him cry out in this doleful manner." -- Bishop Patrick's Paraphrase on the Book of Psalms.
How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? - literally, "until when." The psalmist breaks out into this cry "in the midst" of his troubles. He had apparently borne them as long as he could. It seemed as if they would never come to an end. We may presume that he had been patient and uncomplaining; that he had borne his trials long with the hope and belief that they would soon terminate; that he had waited patiently for deliverance, uttering no words of complaint; but now he begins to despair. He feels that his troubles will never end. He sees no prospect of deliverance; no signs or tokens that God would interpose; and he breaks out, therefore, in this language of tender complaint, as if he was utterly forsaken, and would be forever. The mind, even of a good man, is not unfrequently in this condition. He is borne down with troubles. He has no disposition to murmur or complain. He bears all patiently and long. He hopes for relief. He looks for it. But relief does not come; and it seems now that his troubles never will terminate. The darkness deepens; his mind is overwhelmed; he goes to God, and asks - not with complaining or murmuring, but with feelings bordering on despair - whether these troubles never will cease; whether he may never hope for deliverance.
Forever? - He had been forgotten so long, and there appeared to be so little prospect of deliverance, that it seemed as if God never would return and visit him with mercy. The expression denotes a state of mind on the verge of despair.
How long - Referring to a second aspect or phase of his troubles. The first was, that he seemed to be "forgotten." The second referred to here is, that God seemed to hide his face from him, and he asked how long this was to continue.
Wilt thou hide thy face from me - Favour - friendship - is shown by turning the face benignantly toward one; by smiling upon him; in Scriptural language, by "lifting up the light of the countenance" upon one. See the note at Psalm 4:6. Aversion, hatred, displeasure, are shown by turning away the countenance. God seemed to the psalmist thus to show marks of displeasure toward him, and he earnestly asks how long this was to continue.
How long wilt thou forget me - The words עד אנה ad anah, to what length, to what time, translated here how long? are four times repeated in the two first verses, and point out at once great dejection and extreme earnestness of soul.
Hide thy face from me? - How long shall I be destitute of a clear sense of thy approbation?
"To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David." How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? (a) for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?
(a) He declares that his afflictions lasted a long time, and that his faith did not waver.
How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever?.... When God does not immediately deliver his people from their enemies, or help them out of an affliction; when he does not discover his love, communicate his grace, apply the blessings and promises of his covenant as usual; and when he does not visit them in his usual manner, and so frequently as he has formerly done, they are ready to conclude he has forgotten them; and sometimes this continues long, and then they fear they are forgotten for ever; and this they cannot bear, and therefore expostulate with God in a querulous manner, as the psalmist does here; but this is to be understood not in reality, but in their own apprehension, and in the opinion of their enemies; God never does nor can forget his people; oblivion does not fall upon him with respect to common persons and things; and much less with respect to his own dear children, for whom a special book of remembrance is written; See Gill on Psalm 9:18;
how long wilt thou hide thy face from me? his love, and the manifestation of it, from his person; his gracious presence, the light of his smiling countenance, which sometimes God hides or withdraws from his people by way of resentment of their unbecoming carriage to him; and which is very distressing to them, for they are apt to imagine it is in wrath and hot displeasure, when he still loves them, and will with everlasting kindness have mercy on them; see Isaiah 8:17. The Targum renders it, "the glory of thy face".
God sometimes hides his face, and leaves his own children in the dark concerning their interest in him: and this they lay to heart more than any outward trouble whatever. But anxious cares are heavy burdens with which believers often load themselves more than they need. The bread of sorrows is sometimes the saint's daily bread; our Master himself was a man of sorrows. It is a common temptation, when trouble lasts long, to think that it will last always. Those who have long been without joy, begin to be without hope. We should never allow ourselves to make any complaints but what drive us to our knees. Nothing is more killing to a soul than the want of God's favour; nothing more reviving than the return of it. The sudden, delightful changes in the book of Psalm, are often very remarkable. We pass from depth of despondency to the height of religious confidence and joy. It is thus, Psalm 13:5. All is gloomy dejection in Psalm 13:4; but here the mind of the despondent worshipper rises above all its distressing fears, and throws itself, without reserve, on the mercy and care of its Divine Redeemer. See the power of faith, and how good it is to draw near to God. If we bring our cares and griefs to the throne of grace, and leave them there, we may go away like Hannah, and our countenances will be no more said, 1-Samuel 1:18. God's mercy is the support of the psalmist's faith. Finding I have that to trust to, I am comforted, though I have no merit of my own. His faith in God's mercy filled his heart with joy in his salvation; for joy and peace come by believing. He has dealt bountifully with me. By faith he was as confident of salvation, as if it had been completed already. In this way believers pour out their prayers, renouncing all hopes but in the mercy of God through the Saviour's blood: and sometimes suddenly, at others gradually, they will find their burdens removed, and their comforts restored; they then allow that their fears and complaints were unnecessary, and acknowledge that the Lord hath dealt bountifully with them.
On title, see Introduction. The Psalmist, mourning God's absence and the triumph of his enemies, prays for relief before he is totally destroyed, and is encouraged to hope his trust will not be in vain. (Psalm 13:1-6)
The forms of expression and figure here used are frequent (compare Psalm 9:12, Psalm 9:18; Psalm 10:11-12).
How long . . . for ever--Shall it be for ever?
(Hebrews.: 13:2-3) The complicated question: till when, how long...for ever (as in Psalm 74:10; Psalm 79:5; Psalm 89:47), is the expression of a complicated condition of soul, in which, as Luther briefly and forcibly describes it, amidst the feeling of anguish under divine wrath "hope itself despairs and despair nevertheless begins to hope." The self-contradiction of the question is to be explained by the conflict which is going on within between the flesh and the spirit. The dejected heart thinks: God has forgotten me for ever. But the spirit, which thrusts away this thought, changes it into a question which sets upon it the mark of a mere appearance not a reality: how long shall it seem as though Thou forgettest me for ever? It is in the nature of the divine wrath, that the feeling of it is always accompanied by an impression that it will last for ever; and consequently it becomes a foretaste of hell itself. But faith holds fast the love that is behind the wrath; it sees in the display of anger only a self-masking of the loving countenance of the God of love, and longs for the time when this loving countenance shall be again unveiled to it. Thrice does David send forth this cry of faith out of the inmost depths of his spirit. To place or set up contrivances, plans, or proposals in his soul, viz., as to the means by which he may be able to escape from this painful condition, is equivalent to, to make the soul the place of such thoughts, or the place where such thoughts are fabricated (cf. Proverbs 26:24). One such עצה chases the other in his soul, because he recognises the vanity of one after another as soon as they spring up. With respect to the יומם which follows, we must think of these cares as taking possession of his soul in the night time; for the night leaves a man alone with his affliction and makes it doubly felt by him. It cannot be proved from Ezekiel 30:16 (cf. Zephaniah 2:4 בּצּהרים), that יומם like יום (Jeremiah 7:25, short for יום יום) may mean "daily" (Ew. 313, a). יומם does not mean this here, but is the antithesis to לילה which is to be supplied in thought in Psalm 13:3. By night he proposes plan after plan, each one as worthless as the other; and by day, or all the day through, when he sees his distress with open eyes, sorrow (יגון) is in his heart, as it were, as the feeling the night leaves behind it and as the direct reflex of his helpless and hopeless condition. He is persecuted, and his foe is in the ascendant. רוּם is both to be exalted and to rise, raise one's self, i.e., to rise to position and arrogantly to assume dignity to one's self (sich brsten). The strophe closes with ‛ad-āna which is used for the fourth time.
*More commentary available at chapter level.