Psalms 110–118 (part 3)

Study notes

The psalm gathers its hearers around the single claim that the LORD’s kindness endures forever, then traces how one speaker’s rescue from distress supplies the ground for that claim. From the answered cry that sets the speaker in a broad place, the movement proceeds through repeated encirclement by nations, preservation under chastening, and arrival at the gates of righteousness. There the rejected stone is declared the cornerstone, the day is named the LORD’s own making, and the festal sacrifice is bound at the altar. The repeated summons at beginning and end shows that every detail—personal help, national opposition, temple entry—exists to elicit the same public thanksgiving from Israel, priests, and all who fear the LORD.

What is Psalms 110–118 (part 3) about?

Psalm 118 opens with a repeated summons to give thanks because the LORD’s kindness endures forever, first addressed to Israel as a whole, then to the house of Aaron, and finally to all who fear the LORD. The speaker then recalls a personal crisis: distress that pressed hard enough to threaten falling, answered by the LORD’s help that placed him in a broad place. From that rescue the psalm moves to a public procession toward the gates of righteousness, where the one who enters must be the righteous. Along the way the psalmist declares that trust belongs to the LORD rather than to man or princes, that nations which surrounded him like bees were cut off in the LORD’s name, and that the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. These verses matter because they set the entire psalm inside a single movement from individual deliverance to communal entry and praise, showing how one person’s answered cry becomes the occasion for the whole assembly to affirm that the LORD has given light and to bind the festal sacrifice at the altar.

Where does this passage sit in Psalm?

Psalm 118 closes the run of psalms that stretches from 110 onward. That stretch begins with royal language about enemies underfoot and moves through calls to praise that grow steadily more public. By the time the reader reaches 118 the tone has already shifted from private petition toward festival celebration, and this psalm carries that shift to its fullest expression.

The opening summons to give thanks because the LORD’s kindness endures forever repeats the same line that opens Psalm 107. Here the line is assigned first to Israel, then to the house of Aaron, then to all who fear the LORD. That widening address prepares for the speaker’s own account of distress and rescue in verses 5–18. The personal story does not stand alone; it supplies the reason the gathered people can now approach the gates of righteousness.

Inside the psalm the movement from individual deliverance to communal procession is marked by repeated phrases. The nations that surround the speaker like bees are cut off three times in the LORD’s name. The right hand of the LORD is exalted twice. These repetitions tighten the connection between the speaker’s rescue and the shouts of joy that sound in the tents of the righteous. When the gates are finally addressed in verse 19, the earlier language of refuge and help has already prepared the way for the claim that the rejected stone has become the cornerstone.

The psalm ends by returning to the exact line that began it. That return is not merely decorative; it shows that the procession and the sacrifice now stand inside the same enduring kindness that the three groups were invited to declare at the outset. In the larger book this framing keeps the festival moment from floating free of the personal testimony that precedes it.

How is the passage structured?

The psalm opens with three parallel summonses that expand the circle of those who must declare the LORD’s enduring kindness: first Israel as a whole, then the house of Aaron, then all who fear the LORD. After these identical refrains the voice narrows to a single speaker who recounts a personal crisis in verses 5–7, moving from distress to the LORD’s answer and a broad place, then to the confident question “What can man do to me?”

A pair of comparative statements follows in verses 8–9, each declaring refuge in the LORD superior to trust in man or princes. The narrative then widens again as the speaker describes repeated encirclement by nations, three times stating that he cut them off in the LORD’s name, the third time adding the image of bees quenched like fire among thorns. The pressure returns in verse 13 with the speaker pushed hard and falling, only to be helped once more.

Verses 14–18 shift to declarative praise: the LORD becomes strength, song, and salvation; shouts of joy arise in the tents of the righteous; the speaker vows to live and recount the LORD’s deeds after chastening that stopped short of death. At verse 19 the scene changes to a procession at the gates, where the speaker requests entry and receives the answer that only the righteous may pass. Thanksgiving for answered prayer leads directly to the declaration about the rejected stone becoming the cornerstone, followed by the claim that the day itself is the LORD’s doing.

The final movement gathers the congregation in a double plea for salvation and success, pronounces blessing on the one who comes in the LORD’s name, and issues the command to bind the festal sacrifice at the altar. The psalm closes by repeating the opening summons to give thanks, creating an inclusio that returns the reader to the same declaration of kindness after the intervening journey from individual rescue through communal procession to sacrificial worship.

What is the historical background?

The repeated calls for Israel, the house of Aaron, and those who fear the LORD to declare the same refrain reflect the layered structure of temple gatherings. Priests from Aaron’s line performed the sacrifices and pronounced blessings, while the wider assembly of worshippers joined from the courts. Each group spoke in turn during processions, giving the liturgy a corporate shape rather than a purely individual one.

The request to open the gates of righteousness and the statement that only the righteous may enter point to actual temple architecture and its protocols. Jerusalem’s sanctuary had multiple gates; worshippers approached them in ordered groups, and admission carried the expectation of covenant loyalty. The phrase “gate that belongs to the LORD” aligns with the understanding that the sanctuary itself belonged to the deity, not to any human ruler.

The closing scene at the altar, where the festal sacrifice is bound with cords to the horns, draws on the physical form of the bronze altar used in the Second Temple period and earlier. Its four corner projections allowed ropes to secure the animal during slaughter, keeping the offering within the designated space. The mention of light given by the LORD in the same verse echoes the priestly blessing recited over the people at such moments.

The psalm’s contrast between refuge in the LORD and trust in princes or man fits a setting in which Judean leaders sometimes sought security through foreign alliances. The surrounding nations described as swarming like bees recalls the repeated threats from neighboring powers that pressed against Jerusalem’s borders. The rejected stone that becomes the cornerstone uses an image familiar from ancient construction, where a block initially set aside for a wall or gate proved indispensable once the builders recognized its true fit.

What does this passage teach about God?

The repeated call to declare that the LORD’s kindness endures forever frames every experience in the psalm as evidence of that steadfast character. Israel, the house of Aaron, and all who fear the LORD are summoned to the same confession because the speaker’s own rescue demonstrates it: out of distress the LORD answered and set him in a broad place. This movement from constriction to open space reveals God as one who intervenes personally rather than remaining distant.

Trust is therefore directed exclusively toward the LORD. The psalm states plainly that refuge in him is better than confidence in man or princes, and the surrounding nations, however fierce, are cut off in the LORD’s name. Human alliances and political power prove unreliable; only the divine helper produces triumph. The same LORD who withholds ultimate defeat also disciplines: he chastened the speaker yet did not hand him over to death. Mercy appears here not as the absence of correction but as its limit.

Entry into the gates of righteousness belongs only to the righteous, yet the one who enters gives thanks because the LORD has become his salvation. The rejected stone that becomes the cornerstone is identified as the LORD’s doing, marvelous precisely because it reverses human judgment. The day itself is the LORD’s making, so rejoicing and the cry for salvation arise together. Light given by the LORD enables the festal sacrifice to be bound to the altar, turning worship into an act that acknowledges both deliverance and ongoing dependence.

The closing return to the opening summons shows that thanksgiving is not a single response but the fitting posture for those who have received such help. God’s goodness grounds the entire movement from individual rescue to communal procession and sacrifice.

What are the interpretive difficulties?

The psalm never names the speaker who moves from personal distress in verse 5 to the public declaration in verse 22 that the rejected stone has become the cornerstone. Some readers have taken the singular voice as the king or a representative leader, while others hear it as the voice of the community speaking as one. The text itself supplies no further identification, and the shift to plural in verses 23 and 24 occurs without explanation. The result is that the psalm can be read either as one person’s testimony taken up by the congregation or as the congregation’s own experience voiced through a single representative.

The image of the stone likewise receives no explicit gloss. Verse 22 states only that builders rejected it and that it has become the cornerstone, then immediately attributes the reversal to the LORD. Nothing in the surrounding verses defines the stone as a person, a rebuilt temple, or a restored dynasty. Later readers have supplied those identifications, yet the psalm leaves the reference open while insisting that the outcome is the LORD’s doing and therefore marvelous.

Verse 27 directs that the festal sacrifice be bound with cords up to the horns of the altar. The command assumes a setting in which such binding is intelligible, but the psalm gives no further ritual detail. Readers must decide whether the verse describes an actual procession already under way or supplies a liturgical script for worshipers to follow. The text does not settle the question.

Finally, the repeated summons to give thanks in verses 1–4 and 29 frames the entire psalm. The frame makes clear that whatever happens between those verses is meant to elicit the same confession of enduring kindness. The psalm therefore directs attention less toward resolving the speaker’s identity or the stone’s precise referent and more toward the consistent response of thanksgiving that the deliverance, whatever its exact form, is meant to produce.

Notes accompany the Anselm Project Bible, an AI translation from the original languages. Tap any verse above for the committee's word-level decisions.