For I am become like a bottle in the smoke;
Yet do I not forget thy statutes (Psa 119.83).
Spurgeon calls this tenth section of Psalm 119 “the midnight of the psalm, and very dark and black it is,” for it testifies to the psalmist’s “lowest condition of anguish and depression.”1 This verse uses a metaphor unfamiliar to us, but when once understood, it leads us to realize that when we are as low as the psalmist, as believers we have the same spiritual resources and are also bound to be saved.
MY SORRY CONDITION
To modern readers, “bottle” seems to denote a glass or plastic container with a narrow neck for storing liquid, but the author had never seen one of those. Instead they used somewhat bottle-shaped animal skins (e.g., of kid, goat, cow, camel), tanned or untanned, for the same purpose. They were often called “wineskins” for their typical contents. Their bottles were practically unbreakable, lighter, and more easily carried than earthenware counterparts.2 Even though “bottle” can still refer to such skins, most translations choose to use “wineskin” here.
Therefore a more familiar and equivalent construction for the first line would be, “For I have become like a wineskin in the smoke” (ESV). The psalmist speaks of coming through a process of suffering to his present condition, but still the metaphor is foreign to us.
As the bottles in the East were made of skin, it is evident that one of these hung up in the smoke must soon be parched, shriveled up, lose all its strength, and become unsightly and useless. Thus the psalmist appeared to himself to have become useless and despicable through the exhausted state of his body and mind and by long bodily afflictions and mental distress.3
Now that the illustration is clear, have you ever felt like that—tired, aching in your soul, and so sad you can hardly express it in words? “Like a wineskin in the smoke?” This figure is so expressive that it evokes the deepest sympathy from all who have known its pain.
Again, we are brought face to face with the undeniable reality of great suffering experienced even by the most godly people, as the psalmist was among them. This not only exposes “Christian Science’s” grossly false teaching that suffering is only due to unbelief, but also confronts our typical confusion as American Christians when facing extremely painful circumstances or experiencing anguish of soul. “Coming to Christ means more suffering, not less, in this world. We all will suffer; we all must suffer; and most American Christians are not prepared in mind or heart to believe or experience this” (John Piper).4
Some of the most comforting words in the entire Psalter are from Psalm 23: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me” (v. 4). People recite this from memory at funerals, as we mourn the loss of loved ones, but we must remember it was not originally given in that situational context. David testified of divine faithfulness even when he passed through the threatening, fearful, and depressing seasons of his life—fairly frequent experiences for any human being, and especially for the godly in their minority status as persecuted by the world of unbelievers. As renowned biblical counselor David Powlison reminds us,
Commendable, admirable faith can feel bad—as Job, Naomi, Hannah, many psalms, Jeremiah, and Jesus demonstrate. Many other saints have known dark days: Luther, Bunyan, Spurgeon. And you, too? Giant despair and the slough of despond beset many travelers along that slender path that will find life and joy in the city of God. There will be no more mourning, crying, or pain—someday. But all travelers who take the wide road will come, sooner or later, to a dead end in the swamps of endless melancholy.5
Using the word “for,” the psalmist links 119.83a with the preceding two verses, especially their first lines—“My soul fainteth for thy salvation” and “Mine eyes fail for thy word.” He was experiencing miseries from which he needed divine deliverance. He was going through circumstances that biblical promises assured him would be temporary, although they seemed to go on forever. His long continuance in suffering is why he was like a wineskin in the smoke. But his (and our) present melancholy need not last forever, as the psalmist knew.
MY HOPEFUL REMEMBRANCE
“Yet I do not forget thy statutes,” he prayed to the Lord, the ultimate Author of Holy Scripture. “I am exceedingly miserable, but I am also genuinely hopeful. I have not completely lost my faith.” That is what his testimony in prayer is meant to convey.
Forgetfulness is a theme that runs through Psalm 119. “I will not forget thy word” (v. 16). “I have not forgotten thy law” (v. 61). “I will never forget thy precepts” (v. 93). “Yet I do not forget thy law” (vv. 109, 153; “precepts,” v. 141; “commandments,” v. 176). “Mine enemies have forgotten thy words” (v. 139). The all-important object of remembrance, which the psalmist keeps in mind and the wicked disregard, is Scripture. Thus we see that one key difference between the righteous and the wicked, the believer and unbeliever, the saint who perseveres and the pagan who never knew God or apostate who falls away from him, is your relationship to God’s Word. If you cling to that, you will be saved; if you lack it or forget it, you are undone.
By this standard, many professing Christians today are exposed as mere hypocrites because they have indisputably forgotten God’s Word. They don’t read it. They don’t hear it preached. They don’t study it, memorize it, and ponder it. How unlike a person who is righteous in God’s eyes!
Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper (Psa 1.1-3).
This is teaching not just that you should meditate in God’s law day and night, as a matter of holy obligation, but that you actually do, if you are one of those to whom God’s benediction belongs—i.e., a true Christian on his way to heaven. Without this obsession with Scripture, you have no warrant, notwithstanding any former decisions you made or religious rites you have undergone, to consider yourself as rightly belonging to the company of true Christians.
Even in his lowest times, the psalmist was still praying (an expression of faith; Rom 10.13-14), and he was still deliberately calling to mind passages of Scripture (another evidence of faith), both for his comfort. Depressed he might be, and full of anguish, too, but he was still a believer. “I do not forget thy statutes,” he wrote, and not, “I know I should not forget thy statues, but for now, I have forgotten them, and woe is me.”
Many now suffering will reject this counsel as simplistic and unworthy of serious consideration—even as insensitive to the depths of their pain—but does it not necessarily follow from our text? When you feel like giving up, give yourself to prayer and meditation on Scripture. “Is any among you afflicted? Let him pray” (Jas 5.13). Meditation on God’s Word was guaranteed to Joshua as the path of divinely-granted conquest (note well Josh 1.8). This glorious word of promise was given him when he was between the wilderness at his back and walled cities inhabited by armed giants in the way before him, or, “between a rock and a hard place.”
Desperate people often seem to turn everywhere except to the Lord for help. They run to psychotherapists for comfort and guidance. They put their trust in medications to chase away their malaise. They indulge in all kinds of things, some illicit, in the hopes that these will make them feel better, while the sinful ones only exacerbate their problems. Or else desperate people do nothing, feeling totally helpless and almost unable to move, but a real Christian can hang on and get through by actively exercising his faith toward God and his Word. I am not promising an instant cure-all but a way to save your life for eternity. Not only while David prayed Psa 119.83, but for a while afterward, he was still in a low condition. Nevertheless he persevered.
After the Ziklag incident when the city was burned and all the wives and children of the Jewish soldiers under David’s command were captured by the enemy, he “was greatly distressed.” His men were so grieved over this turn of events that they discussed the possibility of stoning their leader. Surely none of us have ever felt worse than David at this point in his life, nor experienced such catastrophic circumstances. So it is very instructive to see what the man after God’s own heart did then. “David encouraged himself in the LORD his God” (1 Sam 30.6). He was not passive, nor worldly in his approach to the problem. He took hold of the means of grace, especially dialogue with God (Scripture: God speaks to us; prayer: we speak to God). We should do the same, and we will, if we have any true faith at all. We might be miserable, but we are miserably hopeful by the grace of God. Amen.
Notes:
1. Treasury of David, in loc.
2. ISBE Revised, “Bottle.”
3. The New Treasury of Scripture Knowledge, in loc.
4. “Counseling with Suffering People,” The Journal of Biblical Counseling, 21:2 (Winter 2003).
5. “The River of Life Flows Through the Slough of Despond,” The Journal of Biblical Counseling, 18:2 (Winter 2000).
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