Exegetical and Hermeneutical Commentary of Psalms 139:9
[If] I take the wings of the morning, [and] dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
9. If I should lift up the wings of the dawn &c.] If I were to fly with the swiftness of light from the east to the furthest west. The dawn swiftly spreading over the sky, is naturally represented as winged. Cp. ‘wings of the wind,’ Psa 18:10, ‘wings of the sun,’ Mal 4:2.
The sea, from the position of the Mediterranean to the west of Palestine, denotes the West.
Fuente: The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges
If I take the wings of the morning – literally, I will take the wings of the morning. That is, I will take this as a supposable case; I will imagine what would occur, should I be able to take to myself the wings of the morning, and endeavor to escape by flight from the presence of God, or go where he could not pursue me, or where he would not be. The wings of the morning evidently mean that by which the light of the morning seems to fly – the most rapid object known to us. It is not to be supposed that the psalmist had an idea of the exact velocity of light, but to him that was the most rapid object known; and his language is not the less striking because the laws of its flight have become accurately known. The word rendered morning refers to the dawn – the daybreak – the Aurora – the first beams of the morning light. The beams of light are in fact no swifter then than at any other time of the day, but they seem to be swifter, as they so quickly penetrate the darkness.
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea – The end of the sea; that is, the west, as the sea referred to undoubtedly is the Mediterranean, which was west of Palestine, and which became another name for the west. The idea is, that if he could fly with the rapidity of light, and could be in an instant over the sea, even beyond its remotest border, still God would be there before him. He could not escape from the divine presence.
Fuente: Albert Barnes’ Notes on the Bible
Psa 139:9-10
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea.
Christianity the universal religion
The traveller who passes from one quarter of the globe to another feels that the encircling sky which girdles in the ocean is but a type of the unseen power that surrounds us all. It is the expression of the same truth as that which drew from the first navigator who, from the shores of England, reached the shores of America, Heaven is as near to us on the sea as on the land. The philanthropist whose wide charity embraces within its grasp the savage and the civilized man–the white man and the negro–feels that the hand of God is with him in his enterprises, because in the face of all his fellow-men he recognizes, however faintly and feebly expressed, the image of the likeness of God. The philosopher who endeavours to trace out the unity of mankind, and the unity of all created things, consciously or unconsciously, expresses the same truth–namely, that the Divine eye saw our substance yet being imperfect, and that in His book were all our members written, which day by day were fashioned and evolved, while as yet there were none of them–while all was as yet rudimental and undeveloped, alike in the individual and in the race. The heart-stricken, lonely, suffering, or doubting soul, who sees only a step before him, who can but pray, Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom–he, too, can echo the old psalmist: The darkness is no darkness to Thee; the darkness and light to Thee are both alike. Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him. But in the especial form of the words of the text there is a peculiar force, which it is my purpose to bring before you . . . The psalmist wishes to indicate that God could be found in those regions of the earth into which it was least likely that any Divine influence should penetrate, and he expresses it by saying, If I were to take the wings of the morning; if I were to mount on the outspreading radiance which, in the eastern heavens, precedes the rise of dawn, if I were to follow the sun on his onward course and pass with him over land and ocean, till I reach the uttermost parts of the sea, far away in the distant and unknown west, even there, also, strange as it may seem, the hand of God will lead me, the right hand of God will hold me; even there, also, beyond the shadows of the setting of the sun; even there, beyond the furthest horizon, the furthest west of the furthest sea, will be found the Presence which leaps over the most impassable barriers. That which seemed to him so portentous as to be almost incredible, has become one of the familiar, we might almost say one of the fundamental, truths of our religious and social existence. Not only in the East, so we may venture to give his words their fullest and widest meaning–not only in the East, consecrated by patriarchal tradition and usage, but in the unknown and distant islands and seas of the West, the power of God shall be felt as a sustaining help and guiding hand.
I. The contrast between the East and the West is one of the most vivid which strikes the mind of man. Of the great geographical impressions left on the most casual observer, none is deeper than that which is produced when a child of the Western civilization sets foot on the shores of the Eastern world. And so in history, two distinct streams of human interest have followed always the race of Shem and the race of Japhet; and the turning-points, the critical moments of their history, have been when the two streams have crossed each other and met–as on a few great occasions–in conflict or in union. It is the very image which is presented to us in the splendid vision of the evangelical prophet in Isa 60:8-9. Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows? They are the isles; that is, the isles, and coasts, and promontories, and creeks, and bays of the Mediterranean and Atlantic shores. The isles shall wait for Him, and the ships of Tarshish first. Tarshish–that is, the West–with all its vessels of war and its vessels of merchandise. The ships of Tarshish first, and of Venetia, and Carthage, and Spain–these first brought the shores of Cornwall, the name of Britain, within the range of the old civilized world. All these, with their energy and activity, were to build up the walls and pour their wealth through the gates of the Heavenly Jerusalem. And so, in fact, it has been. Christianity, born in the East, has become the religion of the West even more than the religion of the East. Only by travelling from its early home has it grown to its full stature. The more it has adapted itself to the wants of the new-born nation which it embraces, the more it has resembled the first teaching and character of its Founder and of its followers. Judaism, as a supreme religion, expired when its local sanctuary was destroyed. Mohammedanism, after its first burst of conquest, withdrew itself almost entirely within the limits of the East. But Christianity has found not only its shelter and refuge, but its throne and home, in countries which, humanly speaking, it could hardly have been expected to reach at all. The Christian religion rose on the wings of the morning; but it has remained in the uttermost parts of the sea, because the hand of God was with it, and the right hand of God was upholding it.
II. Consider what were the peculiar points of Christianity which have enabled it to combine these two worlds of thought, each so different from the other. In its full development, in its earliest and most authentic representation, we see gathered the completion of those gifts and graces which East and West possesses separately, and which each of us is bound, in his measure, to appropriate and imitate. And, first, observe, on the one hand, in the Gospel history, the awe, the reverence, the profound resignation to the Divine will, the calm, untroubled repose which are the very qualities which the Eastern religions possessed, at a time when, to the West, they were almost wholly unknown, and which, even now, are more remarkably exhibited in Eastern nations than amongst ourselves. Christ has taught us how to be reverential, and serious, and composed. He has taught as no less how to be active, and stirring, and manly, and courageous. The activity of the West has been incorporated into Christianity, because it belongs to the original character and genius of its Founder, no less than its awe and its reverence. Again, in every Eastern religion, even in that which Moses proclaimed from Mount Sinai, there was darkness, a mystery, a veil, as the apostle expressed it–a veil on the prophets face, a veil on the peoples heart-a blind submission to absolute authority. There was darkness around the throne of God; there was darkness within the Temple wall; there was in the Holy of Holies a darkness never broken. To a great extent this darkness and exclusiveness must prevail always, till the time comes when we shall see no longer through a glass darkly. This we have in Christianity, in common with all the East; but yet, so far as the veil can be withdrawn, it has been withdrawn by Jesus Christ and by His true disciples. He is the Light of the world. In Him we behold the open face, the glory of the Father. Again; there was in all Eastern religions, whether we look Godward or manward, a sternness and separation from the common feelings and interests of mankind. We see it, as regards man, in the hardness and harshness of the Eastern laws. We see it, as regards God, in the profound prostration of the soul of man, displayed first in the peculiarities of Jewish worship, and to this day in the prayers of devout Mussulmans. And this, also, enters in its measure into the life of Christ and the life of Christendom. The invisible, eternal, irreproachable Deity, the sublime elevation of the Founder of our religion above all the turmoils of earthly passion and of local prejudice–that is the link of Christianity with the East. And, on the other hand, there was another side of the truth which, until Christ appeared, had been hardly revealed at all to the children of the older covenant. In Christ we see how the Divine Word could become flesh, and yet the Father of all remain invisible and inconceivable. In Christ we see not merely, as in the Levitical system of Christianity, man sacrificing his choicest gifts to God; but God, if one may so say, sacrificing His own dear Son for the good of man.
III. What do we learn from this? Surely, the mere statement of the fact is an almost constraining proof that the religion which thus unites both divisions of the human race, was, indeed, of an origin above them both; that the light which thus shines on both sides, so to speak, of the image of humanity is, indeed, the light that lighteth every man. There is no monopoly, no sameness, no one-sidedness, no narrowness here. The variety, the complexity, the diversity, the breadth of the character of Christ and of His religion is, indeed, an expression of the universal omnipresence of God. It is for us to bear in mind that this many-sidedness of Christianity is a constant encouragement to hold fast those particles of it we already possess, and to reach forward to whatever elements of it are still beyond us. Say not that Christianity has been exhausted; say not that the hopes of Christianity have failed, nor yet that they have been entirely fulfilled. In our Fathers house are many mansions. In one or other of its many mansions each wandering soul may at last find its place, here or hereafter. (Dean Stanley.)
Fuente: Biblical Illustrator Edited by Joseph S. Exell
If I should flee as swiftly from try presence as the morning light doth, which in an instant scattereth itself from east to west; for the sea being the western border of Canaan, is oft put for the west in Scripture. And wings are poetically ascribed to the morning or morning light here, as they are elsewhere to the sun, as Mal 4:2, and to the winds, as Psa 18:10; 104:3, and to other things of eminent swiftness.
Fuente: English Annotations on the Holy Bible by Matthew Poole
[If] I take the wings of the morning,…. And fly as swift as the morning light to the east, to the extremity of it, as Ben Melech; as far as he could go that way, as swiftly as the wings of the morning could carry him thither; so the morning is represented by the Heathens as having wings f; or as the rays of the rising sun, called wings for the swiftness of them, Mal 4:2;
[and] dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; in the most distant isles of it, in the farthest parts of the world, the sea being supposed the boundary of it: or “in the uttermost parts of the west” g, as opposed to the morning light and rising sun, which appear in the east; and the sea is often in Scripture put for the west, the Mediterranean sea being to the west of the land of Palestine; and could he go from east to west in a moment, as the above writer observes, there would God be. The Heathens represent Jupiter, their supreme god, as having three eyes, because he reigns in heaven, and in earth, and under the earth h.
f Vid. Cuperi Apotheos. Homeri, p. 177. g “in novissimo occidentis”, Pagninus. h Pausan. Corinthiaca, sive l. 2. p. 129.
Fuente: John Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible
(9) If . . .Literally,
I lift wings of dawn
I dwell in the end of the sea.
The wings of the morning.This exquisite image suggesting not only the pinions of cloud that seem often to lift the dawn into the sky, but also the swift sailing of the light across the world, may be compared to the wings of the sun in Mal. 4:2, and the wings of the wind in Psa. 18:10.
The uttermost parts of the seai.e., to a Hebrew the extreme west. The poet imagines himself darting from east to farthest west, with the rapidity of light.
Fuente: Ellicott’s Commentary for English Readers (Old and New Testaments)
9. Wings of the morning Wings of the dawn are swift wings, like the early light, which spreads swiftly.
Uttermost parts of the sea The ancients supposed the sea everywhere surrounded the land, and hence the description is of the utmost limit of the globe. It also stands for extreme west, as opposed to “morning,” or earliest dawn, in the preceding line. In this view the supposition is equal to the extreme points of the universe.
Fuente: Whedon’s Commentary on the Old and New Testaments
Psa 139:9 [If] I take the wings of the morning, [and] dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Ver. 9. If I take the wings of the morning ] The morning light is diffused in an instant all the whole welkin over. If I could fly never so swiftly from one end of the heaven to the other, saith David, I should be never the nearer. This is a poetic expression.
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea
Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)
wings of the morning. See note on sub-scription of Psalm 21.
Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics
If I take: Light has been proved, by many experiments, to travel at the astonishing rate of 194,188 miles in one second of time; and comes from the sun to the earth, a distance of 95,513,794 miles in 8 minutes and nearly 12 seconds! But, could I even fly upon the wings or rays of the morning light, which diffuses itself with such velocity over the globe from east to west, instead of being beyond Thy reach, or by this sudden transition be able to escape Thy notice, Thy arm could still at pleasure prevent or arrest my progress, and I should still be encircled with the immensity of Thy essence. The sentiment in this noble passage is remarkably striking and the description truly sublime.
the wings: Psa 18:10, Psa 19:6, Mal 4:2
dwell: Psa 74:16, Psa 74:17, Isa 24:14-16
Reciprocal: 2Sa 22:11 – upon the Job 11:9 – longer Job 38:13 – take Psa 55:6 – General Psa 61:2 – From Psa 104:3 – walketh Amo 9:3 – hid