15 The idols of the nations `are' silver and gold, Work of the hands of man.
Their idols `are' silver and gold, work of man's hands, A mouth they have, and they speak not, Eyes they have, and they see not, Ears they have, and they hear not, A nose they have, and they smell not, Their hands, but they handle not, Their feet, and they walk not; Nor do they mutter through their throat, Like them are their makers, Every one who is trusting in them.
The graven image poured out hath a artizan, And a refiner with gold spreadeth it over, And chains of silver he is refining. He who is poor `by' heave-offerings, A tree not rotten doth choose, A skilful artizan he seeketh for it, To establish a graven image -- not moved.
Framers of a graven image `are' all of them emptiness, And their desirable things do not profit, And their own witnesses they `are', They see not, nor know, that they may be ashamed. Who hath formed a god, And a molten image poured out -- not profitable? Lo, all his companions are ashamed, As to artizans -- they `are' of men, All of them gather together, they stand up, They fear, they are ashamed together. He hath wrought iron `with' an axe, And hath wrought with coals, And with hammers doth form it, And doth work it by his powerful arm, Yea, he is hungry, and there is no power, He doth not drink water, and he is wearied. He hath wrought `with' wood, He hath stretched out a rule, He doth mark it out with a line, He maketh it with carving tools, And with a compass he marketh it out, And maketh it according to the form of a man, According to the beauty of a man, To remain in the house. Cutting down to himself cedars, He taketh also a cypress, and an oak, And he strengtheneth `it' for himself Among the trees of a forest, He hath planted an ash, and the shower doth nourish `it'. And it hath been for man to burn, And he taketh of them, and becometh warm, Yea, he kindleth `it', and hath baked bread, Yea, he maketh a god, and boweth himself, He hath made it a graven image, And he falleth down to it. Half of it he hath burnt in the fire, By `this' half of it he eateth flesh, He roasteth a roasting, and is satisfied, Yea, he is warm, and saith: `Aha, I have become warm, I have enjoyed the light. And its remnant for a god he hath made -- For his graven image, He falleth down to it, and worshippeth, And prayeth unto it, and he saith, `Deliver me, for my god thou `art'.' They have not known, nor do they understand, For He hath daubed their eyes from seeing, Their heart from acting wisely. And none doth turn `it' back unto his heart, Nor hath knowledge nor understanding to say, `Half of it I have burned in the fire, Yea, also, I have baked bread over its coals, I roast flesh and I eat, And its remnant for an abomination I make, To the stock of a tree I fall down.' Feeding on ashes, the heart is deceived, It hath turned him aside, And he delivereth not his soul, nor saith: `Is there not a lie in my right hand?'
-- They are pouring out gold from a bag, And silver on the beam they weigh, They hire a refiner, and he maketh it a god, They fall down, yea, they bow themselves. They lift him up on the shoulder, They carry him, and cause him to rest in his place, And he standeth, from his place he moveth not, Yea, one crieth unto him, and he answereth not, From his adversity he saveth him not.
For the statutes of the peoples are vanity, For a tree from a forest hath one cut, Work of the hands of an artificer, with an axe, With silver and with gold they beautify it, With nails and with hammers they fix it, And it doth not stumble. As a palm they `are' stiff, and they speak not, They are surely borne, for they step not, Be not afraid of them, for they do no evil, Yea, also to do good is not in them. Because there is none like Thee, O Jehovah, Great `art' Thou, and great Thy name in might. Who doth not fear Thee, king of the nations? For to Thee it is becoming, For among all the wise of the nations, And in all their kingdom there is none like Thee. And in one they are brutish and foolish, An instruction of vanities `is' the tree itself. Spread-out silver from Tarshish is brought, And gold from Uphaz, Work of an artizan, and of the hands of a refiner, Blue and purple `is' their clothing, Work of the skilful -- all of them. And Jehovah `is' a God of truth, He `is' a living God, and a king age-during, From His wrath shake doth the earth, And nations endure not His indignation. Thus do ye say to them, The gods Who the heavens and earth have not made, They do perish from the earth, And from under these heavens.
What profit hath a graven image given That its former hath graven it? A molten image and teacher of falsehood, That trusted hath the former on his own formation -- to make dumb idols? Wo `to' him who is saying to wood, `Awake,' `Stir up,' to a dumb stone, It a teacher! lo, it is overlaid -- gold and silver, And there is no spirit in its midst.
Worthy.Bible » Commentaries » Matthew Henry Commentary » Commentary on Psalms 135
Commentary on Psalms 135 Matthew Henry Commentary
Psalm 135
This is one of the Hallelujah-psalms; that is the title of it, and that is the Amen of it, both its Alpha and its Omega.
In singing this psalm our hearts must be filled, as well as our mouths, with the high praises of God.
Psa 135:1-4
Here is,
Psa 135:5-14
The psalmist had suggested to us the goodness of God, as the proper matter of our cheerful praises; here he suggests to us the greatness of God as the proper matter of our awful praises; and on this he is most copious, because this we are less forward to consider.
Psa 135:15-21
The design of these verses is,