Psalms 129:1
A Song of degrees. Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth, may Israel now say:
129:1. In Israel’s present hour of trial she may remember her former afflictions and speak of them for her comfort, drawing from them the assurance that he who has been with her for so long will not desert her in the end. The song begins abruptly. The poet has been musing, and the fire burns, therefore speaks he with his tongue: he cannot help it, he feels that he must speak, and therefore may … now say what he has to say. The trials of the church have been repeated again and again, times beyond all count: the same afflictions are fulfilled in us as in our fathers. Jacob of old found his days full of trouble; each Israelite is often harassed; and Israel as a whole has proceeded from tribulation to tribulation.
Many a time, Israel says, because she could not say how many times. She speaks of her assailants as they, because it would be impossible to write or even to know all their names. They had straitened, harassed, and fought against her from the earliest days of her history—from her youth—and they had continued their assaults right on without ceasing. Persecution is the heir-loom of the church, and the ensign of the elect. Israel among the nations was special, and this brought against her many restless foes, who could never be easy unless they were warring against the people of God. When in Canaan, at the first, the chosen household was often severely tried; in Egypt it was heavily oppressed; in the wilderness it was fiercely assailed; and in the promised land it was often surrounded by deadly enemies. It was something for the afflicted nation that it survived to say, “Many a time have they afflicted me.” The affliction begins early—from my youth—and it continued late. The earliest years of Israel and of the church of God were spent in trial. Babes in grace are cradled in opposition. No sooner is the man-child born than the dragon is after it. “It is,” however, “good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth,” and he will see it to be so when in after days he tells the tale.
The Treasury of David by Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892)
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