588_Come, bless the Lord (Psalm 134)

Psalm 134 Come, bless the Lord, all you servants of the Lord,
who stand by night in the house of the Lord!
2 Lift up your hands to the holy place
and bless the Lord!

3 May the Lord bless you from Zion,
he who made heaven and earth!

There is a story told about a small town in the mountains of Switzerland. High on a hill above the village lived an old man who had been hired decades earlier as the keeper of the springs. His job was simple but unseen: each day he hiked the hillsides and cleared away leaves, branches, and debris from the mountain springs that fed the town’s streams and lake. For years, nobody paid attention to him. The water ran clean, the lake was sparkling, and the village became known for its beauty. People came to rest and restore their souls beside those clear waters.

One day the town council decided that the old man’s salary was no longer necessary. “After all,” they reasoned, “the water has been clean for years. Surely it will take care of itself.” So they dismissed him.

At first, nothing changed. But within a few weeks, the water grew darker. Slimy film gathered along the banks. A foul smell drifted over the lake. Tourists stopped coming. The life of the village was affected quickly and deeply. Alarmed, the town leaders called an emergency meeting. Realizing their mistake, they rehired the old man. In time, the springs were cleared, the water ran clean again, and the life of the village returned.

Psalm 134, the last of the Songs of Ascents, is a reminder of what that old man did. It is a psalm addressed to those who minister in the unseen hours—those who keep the lamp burning when the world sleeps, those who tend the springs of worship when no one is watching, those whose faithfulness keeps the life of God’s people flowing.

Psalm 134 is short—only three verses—but it opens a window into the heart of worship. Many scholars believe this psalm was sung at the conclusion of the great pilgrimage festivals. After days of traveling, worshiping, offering sacrifices, and feasting in Jerusalem, the pilgrims prepared to leave the Holy City and return to their villages scattered across the land. As they departed, they called out to the priests who remained in the temple through the night: “Come, bless the Lord, all you servants of the Lord, who stand by night in the house of the Lord.” It was both an exhortation and a benediction—a reminder that the worship of God does not end when the crowds go home.

To understand the richness of this call, we must pause for a moment on the word “bless.” In English, “bless” usually means to confer something good. When we say a person is blessed, we mean they have received favor or goodness. In Scripture, when God blesses, that is exactly what it means—He bestows life, protection, strength, and grace. But when we bless God, we obviously do not give Him something He lacks. Instead, the Hebrew word barak means to speak well of God, to praise Him, to adore Him, to publicly acknowledge His greatness.

You see this clearly in the Psalms. In Psalm 34, David says, “I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.” Blessing and praising are synonymous, and Hebrew poetry reinforces this by repeating the same idea in slightly different words. Psalm 103 says, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name,” and then adds, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits.” Blessing the Lord is remembering, naming, and rejoicing in His goodness.

We see this again in 1 Chronicles 29, where David urges all the assembly, “Bless the Lord your God.” And how do they respond? They bow their heads and worship. To bless the Lord is to honor Him with reverent praise.

With that in mind, Psalm 134 becomes even more vivid. The psalmist calls to the priests—the ones who serve in the sanctuary through the night. Who stands by night in the house of the Lord? Not the general public. Not the kings or rulers. Not the entire tribe of Levi. It is the priests whose job was to tend the menorah, the golden lampstand, from evening to morning, as commanded in Exodus 27:21. They were to keep the flame burning continually as a symbol of God’s abiding presence. They also guarded the sanctuary, received offerings, and, according to 1 Chronicles 9:33, offered songs of worship “day and night.” These nightly duties were not mechanical chores; they were acts of worship.

So when the pilgrims called out, “Come, bless the Lord,” they were saying, “Continue your ministry. Continue your watch. Continue offering praise through the night. Even when no crowd sees you, worship continues.” There is something deeply beautiful about that. In the stillness of the night, while the city sleeps, God is honored by the quiet devotion of His servants.

In a world often defined by noise, speed, and constant visibility, this psalm reminds us that some of the deepest acts of worship are hidden—prayers whispered in the dark, decisions made when no one else will know, faithfulness maintained when applause fades. To keep the lamp burning is a metaphor for steady devotion. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world,” and He also said, “You are the light of the world.” We do not generate the light, but we are called to bear it into the darkness. Every act of obedience, every gesture of love, every moment we reflect His character is a way of blessing the Lord.

Peter writes that believers are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.” In other words, just as the priests tended the flame in the temple, we are called to tend the flame of worship in our lives.

Verse 2 continues, “Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and bless the Lord.” In Scripture, lifting the hands is a gesture of worship, surrender, and prayer. It is also symbolic of our actions—our hands represent our deeds. When the psalmist says to lift our hands to God, it evokes the desire to come before Him with integrity. Paul echoes this in 1 Timothy 2:8 when he urges believers to pray “lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling.” Before we offer God our praise, we offer Him our repentance. Before we raise our hands, we seek to cleanse them.

Ezra did this in Nehemiah 8:6, blessing the Lord as the people lifted their hands and bowed their faces to the ground. David prayed in Psalm 141 that his prayer would rise like incense and “the lifting up of my hands like the evening sacrifice.” Hands raised in worship become a picture of a life aligned with God. We bless the Lord not only with our lips but with our actions—with clean hands and a devoted heart.

And then this brief psalm ends with a benediction: “May the Lord bless you from Zion, the Maker of heaven and earth.” The pilgrims have blessed the Lord with their worship, and now the priests speak God’s blessing back upon them. It is a gentle reminder that the God they came to worship in Jerusalem is not confined to the temple. He is the Creator of heaven and earth, and therefore He goes with them as they return to their villages, their routines, and their responsibilities.

They leave the physical temple, but they do not leave the presence of God. The One whose glory filled Zion is the One who watches over them as they travel. His blessing accompanies them, just as Psalm 23 declares, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” The longing to dwell in the house of the Lord forever is fulfilled, not by remaining in a building, but by abiding in the God who abides with us. Jesus affirmed this promise when He said, “I am with you always,” and the writer of Hebrews echoed it: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

This short psalm teaches us how to bless the Lord in daily life—not merely through songs or words, but through the way we treat others, the way we respond to hardship, the way we love our families, and the way we extend grace to those who struggle. We bless the Lord when we choose kindness over anger, forgiveness over resentment, purity over compromise, faith over fear. We bless Him when we recognize His presence in the ordinary and trust Him in the uncertain.

So as you go about your day, hear again the call of Psalm 134: “Come, bless the Lord.” Bless Him in the unseen moments. Bless Him with clean hands and a steadfast heart. Bless Him by keeping the flame of His light shining in a dark world. And as you bless Him, may you experience the fullness of His blessing resting upon you—the blessing of the One who made heaven and earth, who goes with you, who keeps you, and who will never forsake you.