WHEREFORE should I fear in the days of evil, when the iniquity of my heels shall compass me about? They that trust in their wealth, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches; None of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for him: (For the redemption of their soul is precious, and it ceaseth forever): That he should still live forever, and not see corruption. He that properly fears God need fear none other. Especially he need not fear the wicked, however rich or strong in the resources of a wicked man of the world he may be. The weakness of the rich worldling is seen especially in the fact that none of them can redeem his brother or himself from the grave, so that death shall stay his hand and suffer the redeemed man to live on forever. Such we take to be the general scope of thought in this passage. “Why should I fear in the days of evil”—that is—of calamity, misfortune or persecution; “when the iniquity of my heels”—a case where our translators erred by giving a too literal translation. For, though the Hebrew word means primarily heels, yet it has the secondary sense of waylayers—those who lie in wait to catch hold of one’s heels, trip up and thus maliciously destroy. Why should I fear (the sense is), though environed with such artful and malign foes? For though they trust in their wealth and shine in their abundance, yet not a man of them can redeem his own brother from death, nor give to God a ransom for himself (the probable sense). For the ransom of their life—both his brother’s and his own—is precious. It costs more than any rich man’s wealth can pay, and therefore it ceases (as to being paid) forever. Life is not in the market for redemption. Or the true construction may be—“And one ceases from the attempt forever”—he gives it over in utter despair. Men are compelled to learn by the sternest experience that no such ransom is possible. “Soul” is here in the sense of life. The redemption of our earthly life from inexorable death, that we may live on here without dying, as the context shows. This utter inability to redeem a dearest friend, or even one’s self, from death, is taken as illustrative of the utter weakness of the richest and proudest of mortals. And justly. The thing they would most gladly do—which they desire to do above all other things—for which they would lavish their gold without stint, is just the thing which lies most utterly beyond their power. Like Queen Elizabeth, they may cry, “Millions of money for one inch of time!” but no money will buy it. Little indeed can men harm the righteous who have not power to help themselves or their dearest brother, in their own utmost need. The psalmist therefore seems to reach the two-fold conclusion; not only that those who fitly fear God need fear no other than him; but also its converse—to wit: that those who do not fitly fear God have everything to fear—their own vaunted resources of wealth and glory being utterly vain for help in their time of real need. What a contrast is this! Between fearing nothing and fearing everything—between reposing securely above all fear, and being powerless before your great fear, and finding all your resources unavailing just when you need them most. Who does not say—Lord, give me the portion of those that fear thy name, and let me not be numbered with those who, having disowned thee, shall be themselves disowned in their day of grief.—Ob. Evang.