Psalm 104:1

Psalm 104 is a hymn of praise that sings of the works of creation in much the order of Genesis 1. Genesis tells the account day by day, and the psalm turns the same works into worship and adds God’s ongoing care for all he has made. After these opening verses on the heavens, it moves to the foundations of the earth (verses 5–9), the springs and the rain (10–13), the grass, trees and animals (14–18), the moon and sun with their times (19–23), and the sea with its creatures (24–26). Then it tells how every living thing waits on God for its food and its breath (Psalm 104:27–30), and it closes in praise (31–35).

The psalm stands in the fourth book of the Psalter, Psalms 90–106, where the LORD’s kingship over all the earth is sung again and again. The psalm before it praises him for his mercy to his people, and this one praises him for his rule over the whole natural world. Both open with the same call to the soul.

The nations around Israel worshipped gods of the storm, the sea and the sky, and told of gods who struggled to bring the world into order. The psalmist gives every one of those powers to the LORD. Light is his clothing, the clouds carry him, the wind is his road, and fire serves him. Egypt had a hymn to its sun god Aten with some likeness to this psalm, and here all the power to create and sustain belongs to the God of Israel alone.

“Bless the LORD, O my soul” is a command the psalmist gives to himself. He calls on his innermost being, his mind, will and feelings together, to praise God. Worship comes from the whole person, and it is often a deliberate act of the will, so he stirs himself to it. Psalm 103:1 opens with the same words and goes on, “and all that is within me, bless his holy name.”

The verb bârak is the word for blessing. When people bless God, it means to praise him, to adore him and to thank him, and the word is tied to kneeling, the posture of reverence before one far greater. It is honour offered to God for who he is.

Then the psalmist turns from his soul to God himself: “O LORD my God”. The LORD, Yᵉhôvâh, is God’s own personal and covenant name, which God opened to Moses at the burning bush as “I AM THAT I AM” (Exodus 3:14). It speaks of the God who exists of himself and for ever, who acts in history for his people and keeps his promises. “My God” makes it personal. The God about to be praised as Lord of the heavens is the God the psalmist knows as his own.

“Thou art very great”, gadalta meʼod in Hebrew, speaks of a greatness no one can measure and nothing in creation can match. The prophets sing the same greatness, above all in Isaiah 40, where it is the comfort of God’s people. Everything that follows in the psalm, the light, the heavens, the clouds, the wind and the angels, is the evidence for this one line.

Heaven itself worships God for this. Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up, and heard the seraphims cry, “Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isaiah 6:1–3). In Revelation the elders cast their crowns before the throne and say, “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created” (Revelation 4:8–11). Nehemiah’s prayer joins the making and the keeping of all things: “Thou, even thou, art LORD alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth, and all things that are therein, the seas, and all that is therein, and thou preservest them all; and the host of heaven worshippeth thee” (Nehemiah 9:6).

“Thou art clothed with honour and majesty.” The verb lâbash means to put on a garment or wrap something around oneself. Honour, hod, is splendour and dignity of the kind that belongs to a ruler, and majesty, hadar, is adornment, magnificence and beauty. In Israel’s world a king’s robes showed his authority and splendour, and the psalmist uses that picture for the LORD. A king puts on his robes for the throne room and lays them aside at night. God’s honour and majesty belong to who he is, so he wears them always. Scripture speaks of God in human terms like these so that we can grasp his glory, and another psalm uses the same picture: “The LORD reigneth, he is clothed with majesty; the LORD is clothed with strength” (Psalm 93:1).

Verse 2 carries the picture on: “Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment”. The verb ʻâṭâh means to wrap, cover, veil or clothe, and to array oneself. The word for light, ʼôwr, means illumination, or a light that shines. The light God wears is the brightness of his own glory, and it speaks of his purity, holiness and truth. It shows his glory and hides him at the same time, because no human eye can bear it. Paul speaks of God “dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto” (1 Timothy 6:16), and John writes, “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5).

“Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain” takes an everyday task and uses it for the making of the sky. The verb nâṭâh means to stretch or spread out, and also to bend or incline. It is used for pitching a tent, spreading a cloth and stretching out a hand. The curtain is the cloth of a tent, and in Israel pitching a tent was a familiar sight. As easily as a man spreads out his tent, God spread out the whole expanse of the heavens, with design and with power.

The heavens become a canopy over the earth. Isaiah says that God “stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in” (Isaiah 40:22), and Job says that God “alone spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea” (Job 9:8).

Verse 3 gives three pictures of God at home and on the move in the heights of his creation.

“Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters.” Beams are the timbers that hold a building up. The word for chambers, ʻălîyâh, means something lofty: a stairway, an upper room or a room on the roof, and in a figure the sky. So God’s rooms are pictured at the very top of the world, with their beams set in the waters. The waters recall the deep over which the Spirit of God moved (Genesis 1:2), and in Scripture waters often stand for what is wild and unformed. God builds on them as on a firm floor. He also set the sea its limits, shutting it up with doors and saying, “Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed” (Job 38:8–11).

“Who maketh the clouds his chariot.” The word rᵉkûwb means a vehicle, something ridden on, a chariot. In Scripture the clouds often go with God’s presence and glory, and here they carry him. He came to Moses at Sinai in a thick cloud (Exodus 19:9), Isaiah saw “the LORD rideth upon a swift cloud” into Egypt (Isaiah 19:1), and Ezekiel saw a whirlwind, a great cloud and a fire, with a throne above them (Ezekiel 1:4–28).

“Who walketh upon the wings of the wind.” The verb hâlak is the common word for walking, used in a great many ways. The wings of the wind picture its speed and its reach, and God walks on them in calm command of the swiftest force in nature, free to go wherever he wills. David sang the same: “And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind” (Psalm 18:10).

Rushing waters, storm clouds and strong winds are the things in nature that most frighten people, and each of them serves God here. The psalm goes on to show that his work did not end at creation. He still governs and provides for all he made, as Jesus said: “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” (John 5:17).

Verse 4 moves from the winds and clouds God commands to the unseen beings who serve him: “Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire.”

The verb ʻâsâh is the broadest word for doing or making, and here its subject is God. He makes the angels, so they are created beings who owe their existence and their nature to him. The word for angels, malʼâk, means a messenger, from a root meaning to send someone out as a deputy, and when the messenger is God’s it means an angel. Their work is to carry his messages and do his will in the world.

They are made “spirits”. The word rûwach comes from a root meaning to blow or breathe, and it means wind, breath and spirit. Here it describes beings without bodies who are swift and unseen and move at God’s command, and because the same word means wind, it ties them to the wind God has just walked upon.

The second line calls them his ministers, měšārĕtāw, his servants or attendants, who wait on a sovereign and do his bidding. They are “a flaming fire”, in Hebrew esh lohet, fire that blazes. Its verb, lâhaṭ, means to lick, and so to blaze, the way flames lick. Fire speaks of their purity, their zeal and their power as they carry out his will, and of their part in judgment and in showing God’s awesome presence. Another psalm calls on them to praise him: “Bless the LORD, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word. Bless ye the LORD, all ye his hosts; ye ministers of his, that do his pleasure” (Psalm 103:20–21).

Fire goes with God’s servants and his presence across Scripture. The angel of the LORD appeared to Moses “in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush” (Exodus 3:2). The living creatures in Ezekiel’s vision looked “like burning coals of fire” (Ezekiel 1:13). A chariot of fire and horses of fire parted Elijah from Elisha before he went up by a whirlwind into heaven (2 Kings 2:11).

The New Testament shows us that the God of these verses made all things through his Son. The Word who was with God and was God made all things (John 1:1–3). Paul writes, “For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: And he is before all things, and by him all things consist” (Colossians 1:16–17). So the one who stretches out the heavens, and who made the angels themselves, is the Son.

The honour, majesty and light of verses 1 and 2 are seen in him. “No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him” (John 1:18). He is “the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world” (John 1:9), and he said, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). His glory shines most brightly in his death on the cross and his resurrection. He humbled himself to death, and God has highly exalted him and given him the name above every name (Philippians 2:8–11), “far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion” (Ephesians 1:21), so the angels of verse 4 are under him.

The rule over wind, waters and clouds in verse 3 was seen on earth when Jesus rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace, be still” (Mark 4:39), and when he came to his disciples walking on the sea (Matthew 14:25). A cloud received him out of their sight when he ascended (Acts 1:9), and “Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him” (Revelation 1:7). John the Baptist said that he would baptize “with the Holy Ghost, and with fire” (Matthew 3:11), bringing cleansing, judgment and holy zeal to his people.

So when we bless the LORD with our souls, we bless him through the Son, through whom “we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father” (Ephesians 2:18). The praise of this psalm joins the song of heaven to the Lamb: “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing” (Revelation 5:12–13).

These four verses give us a God of immeasurable greatness. Light is his clothing, the heavens are his tent, the clouds and the wind carry him, and the angels stand ready as his servants. The storm and the sky are his creatures, and the powers of the unseen world are made by him and answer to him. The same God, so high above all things, is the one the psalmist calls “my God”, and the God who keeps the whole world goes on to feed every creature in the verses that follow.

The psalmist’s answer to such greatness is to bless the LORD with his whole soul. The heavens over our heads tell of the God who spread them out, and the praise of verse 1 is the fitting response to who he is.