Psalm 131:1-3
2. “Lord, my heart is not lifted up” (ver. 1). He hath offered a sacrifice. Whence do we prove that he hath offered a sacrifice? Because humility of heart is a sacrifice.… If there is no sacrifice, there is no Priest. But if we have a High Priest in Heaven, who intercedeth with the Father for us (for He hath entered into the Holy of Holies, within the veil), … we are safe, for we have a Priest; let us offer our sacrifice there. Let us consider what sacrifice we ought to offer; for God is not pleased with burnt-offerings, as ye have heard in the Psalm. But in that place he next showeth what he offereth: “The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, shall Thou not despise.1
3. “Lord, my heart was not lifted up, neither were mine eyes raised on high” (ver. 1); “I have not exercised myself in great matters, nor in wonderful things which are too high for me” (ver. 2). Let this be more plainly spoken and heard. I have not been proud: I have not wished to be known among men as for wondrous powers; nor have I sought anything beyond my strength, whereby I might boast myself among the ignorant. As that Simon the sorcerer wished to advance into wonders above himself, on that account the power of the Apostles more pleased him, than the righteousness of Christians.… What is above my strength, he saith, I have not sought; I have not stretched myself out there, I have not chosen to be magnified there. How deeply this self-exaltation in the abundance of graces is to be feared, that no man may pride himself in the gift of God, but may rather preserve humility, and may do what is written: “The greater thou art, the more humble thyself, and thou shalt find favour before the Lord:”2 how deeply pride in God’s gift should be feared, we must again and again impress upon you.…
A beautiful picture of contentment and trust emerges from the three verses of Psalm 131. If the psalm was written by David (and there is nothing in the psalm to dictate otherwise), it sounds more like David in his early years. Later it was included with the Songs of Ascent (Psalms 120–134) to guide Israel in the difficult post-exilic days.
The psalmist begins with three denials: his heart is not proud; his eyes are not haughty; and he does not concern himself with great matters … things too wonderful for me—that is, his mind does not overreach its proper boundaries. A proud heart and exalted eyes describe a person who looks down on others, treating them as less important.
The third denial strikes us as strange since our culture accepts no boundaries to the free movement of the human mind. Without question, this insistence has brought tremendous advances in learning. Some things, however, God has withheld for himself (see Deuteronomy 29:29). He rarely tells us why things happen as they do or what our future holds. While it is not sinful to ask God why or what next, it is presumptuous to demand an answer. This is what the psalmist refuses to do in Psalm 131:1c.
He follows the three denials with an emphatic assertion (But here indicates emphasis).1 Like the calm surface of a lake, he has stilled and quieted his soul.2 He compares himself to a weaned child with its mother (131:2). Because this child is no longer breast feeding, it can lie contentedly in its mother’s arms, desiring less what the mother can give than the mother herself. An end to self-centered demands means the child can enjoy the mother’s comfort.3 To approach God, not for what He can do for me but because He is my God and Father, is to enjoy a deeper, more satisfying level of contentment.
In language quite similar to Psalm 130:7, the psalmist turns his attention outward (see 131:3). The rewards of trust prompt him to summon Israel—and us—to do the same, both now and forevermore (131:3b).
The source of pride is wealth, power, and prominence, but surprisingly not military might. Most of all, the primary source of such ascendency was the king’s great wisdom and cunning in the market place, a wisdom, however, that turns on the one who presumes to have mastered it (Ez 38:17). The lust for boundless treasure and endless glory turned wisdom into greed and violence (Ez 38:16). Most of all, however, a great presumption overtook. “I am a god,” the king convinced himself (Ez 38:2, 6, 9). Most of all, he lost sight of his humanness.
The next denial in our psalm comes in the phrase: I have not raised my eyes to high. Most of us know that downward look from a dog exposed to some mischievous mishap, but we also know the reverse, that certain upward glance that says: “I am above you.” Raising the eyes is synonymous with lifting up the heart, but is even more associated with unmitigated desire.
At the top of the list of things God hates are “haughty eyes” (Prov 6:17). The list goes on to mention all the things associated with “the wicked” in the Songs of Ascents: lying tongue, violence, scheming after gain, testifying falsely, and stirring up discord. Another proverb plainly connects raised eyes with a disdain for the poor that “devouring the needy from the earth,/ and the poor from among men” (Prov 30:13–14).
The funny thing about desire is that the more it is fed, the hungrier it gets. The question of the garden bears repeating: is there satisfaction that requires no more? Torah advocates were keenly aware of the question and understood a devastating effect of over consumption—forgetfulness. The more people enjoyed wealth and prosperity the more their “eyes were raised” and the more they forgot from whence they came.
When … you have increased your herds and flocks, your silver and gold, and all your property, you then become haughty (be raised) of heart and unmindful of the LORD, your God, who brought you out of Egypt, that place of slavery. (Deut 8:12–14)
This Torah awareness has important connections to our psalm here. It is in the gathering at the temple where sacrifices of thanksgiving are made that the Torah is read and renewed. Forgetfulness of who one is and where one is going was only magnified in David’s sons. Too few kings after David were able, let alone willing to reverse the contagion of desire. During the reigns of Hezekiah and Josiah attempts at reforming the notion of “king” were made. The “ideal” king was articulated. He was not to be haughty and does not lust for power and wealth. He was not to “become enstranged from his countrymen through pride, nor turn aside to the right or to the left from these commandments” (Deut 17:20).