Eyes Lifted For Mercy: Psalm 123 And The Prayer Of The Despised (Part Two)

by on June 20, 2026 | Comment

The Pilgrim Waits at the Master’s Hand

The psalmist then gives us an image:

As the eyes of servants

look to the hand of their master,

as the eyes of a maidservant

to the hand of her mistress,

so our eyes look to the Lord our God,

till he has mercy upon us.

Some modern readers stumble over the image. We hear “servants” and “master,” and we assume the psalm must be presenting a servile, fearful, degrading picture. But this is not the point. The servant looks to the master’s hand because from this hand comes provision, protection, instruction, and help. The psalm is not telling us that God’s people cringe before an unpredictable tyrant. It is telling us that they depend wholly on the Lord.

We understand this more than we may first realize. A child watches a parent’s hand while crossing the street. A musician watches the conductor’s hand. A dog watches its master’s hand. The hand gives direction, provision, restraint, and help. So the psalmist says that our eyes look to the Lord our God. We do not merely look toward him; we wait on him.

This also confronts one of our cherished illusions. We imagine that the great choice in life is between freedom and service. Scripture teaches otherwise. The question is not whether we will serve. The question is whom we will serve. We either serve sin, self, and Satan; or we serve the living and true God. We either belong to the powers that destroy, or we belong to the Lord who saves. True freedom is not freedom from belonging. True freedom is belonging to the only Master whose hand gives mercy. This is why the psalmist’s eyes are fixed. He does not glance toward God and then quickly scan the horizon for a better option. He looks to the Lord “till he has mercy upon us.” There is perseverance in that line. There are patience, desperation, and faith. The servant does not have the resources in himself. The maidservant does not pretend to be self-sufficient. The people of God do not say, “We will manage this on our own.” They look to the hand of the Lord because his hand alone can give what they need. And this is often where faith is tested—not only in whether we will look to God but whether we will keep looking.

It is one thing to pray once in distress. It is another thing to keep praying when the contempt remains. It is one thing to ask for mercy. It is another thing to wait for mercy. The psalm gives us the posture of faith in that waiting: “So our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us” (v. 2). The believer may not always know what mercy should look like. Sometimes mercy comes as deliverance. Sometimes it comes as endurance. Sometimes it comes as repentance. Sometimes it comes as a softened heart, a guarded tongue, a restored joy, or the strength to take the next step. But the servant does not need to know how the master’s hand will move in order to keep looking to it.

The Mercy We Need

What, then, do they ask for? “Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us” (v. 3).

Mercy is not merely a mood in God. It is not bare pity. It is his compassion expressed in action. It is favor shown to the needy, help for the distressed, cleansing for the unclean, forgiveness for the guilty, and relief for those who have been brought low. Sometimes we need mercy because we are guilty. Sometimes we need mercy because we are weak. Sometimes we need mercy because we are tired. Sometimes we need mercy because we have been sinned against and do not know how to keep walking faithfully. Sometimes we need mercy because we are tempted to answer contempt with contempt, pride with pride, scorn with scorn. The cry, “Have mercy upon us,” is wide enough for all that.

The Bible gives us many pictures of mercy. On the Day of Atonement, blood was brought into the Holy of Holies and sprinkled on and before the mercy seat. There, between the law of God and the presence of God, blood was placed for the sins of the people. Mercy meant forgiveness. God provided a way for guilty sinners to dwell near him without being consumed.

In Luke 17, ten lepers stood at a distance and cried out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us” (v. 13). They were not asking at that moment for an abstract feeling; they were asking to be cleansed. Mercy meant help and restoration. Mercy meant the Lord seeing their misery and acting. In Luke 10, Jesus says the Samaritan proved to be a neighbor because he showed mercy to the man beaten and left half dead (vv. 33–37). There, mercy meant compassion made visible: wounds bound, oil and wine poured, the helpless man carried, sheltered, and cared for.

When Psalm 123 teaches us to pray, “Have mercy upon us,” it teaches us to ask for the full compassion of God to meet the full misery of man. We ask for mercy because God can help. He is enthroned in the heavens. We ask for mercy because God is merciful. When the Lord proclaimed his name to Moses, he declared himself “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” We ask for mercy because covenant fellowship with God has always rested on mercy. God enters into relationship with those who do not deserve to be near him. Adam did not deserve mercy. Israel did not deserve mercy. We do not deserve mercy. But the Lord is merciful. And this is why Psalm 123 is not a prayer of vague religious longing. The psalmist does not cry into the void. He cries to “the Lord our God” (v. 2). The enthroned King is not a stranger. He is the covenant Lord of his people. This is why weary Christians can pray this psalm honestly. You may not know exactly what you need. You may not know whether the Lord will remove the trial, strengthen you within it, humble you through it, or teach you to wait longer than you expected, but you do know where mercy is found. It is found with the Lord our God.

Christ Lifted His Eyes First

Ultimately, Psalm 123 leads us to Christ. The psalm begins in the singular: “To you I lift up my eyes” (v. 1). Then it moves to the plural: “So our eyes look to the Lord our God” (v. 2). That movement gives us a way to think about Christ and his people. Before our eyes are lifted, his eyes were lifted. Before we look to the Lord for mercy, Christ, the true Servant, entrusted himself to his Father.

Jesus is the faithful servant who did what Israel failed to do. He served the Lord perfectly. He also endured the deepest contempt. The proud looked down on him. Those who were at ease mocked him. At the cross, rulers scoffed. Soldiers mocked. Passersby wagged their heads. He was treated as weak, foolish, cursed, and forsaken. Yet he entrusted himself to his Father: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” These words are not the cry of unbelief. They are the words of the faithful Servant. Christ placed himself into the hand of his Father, and the Father showed him mercy not by sparing him from death, but by raising him from the dead. This is our hope for mercy.

We do not lift our eyes as isolated sufferers trying to persuade a reluctant God to notice us. We lift our eyes in Christ. We belong to the Son who has gone before us. We are united to the Servant who suffered contempt, trusted the Father, descended into death, and was raised in glory.

So when Paul says in Colossians 3:1, “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above,” he is not telling Christians to become detached from earthly life. He is telling us where our life is hidden. “Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.” Lift up your eyes not to escape reality but to see it truthfully. Christ is seated at the right hand of God. The enthroned Lord reigns. The Father’s hand is not empty. Mercy has not run dry.

There will be seasons when the pilgrim still groans, the church still prays, and the proud still scoff. The contempt of those at ease is still real. Psalm 123 does not deny this. But it does teach us where to look. We lift our eyes to the One enthroned in the heavens. We look to the hand of our master. We ask for mercy from the God whose mercy has come to us in Jesus Christ. And we keep looking until he has mercy on us.

He may not give that mercy in the form we first imagined. He may not answer as quickly as we hoped. But the hand to which we look is not empty. It is the hand of the Father who raised his Son from the dead. It is the hand of the Shepherd who keeps his sheep. It is the hand of the Lord who blesses his people and makes his face shine on them. So lift up your eyes. In Christ, mercy is not far away.

©Everett Henes. All Rights Reserved.

You can find the whole series here.

RESOURCES

Heidelberg Reformation Association
1637 E. Valley Parkway #391
Escondido CA 92027
USA
The HRA is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization

    Post authored by:

  • Everett Henes
    Author Image

    Everett Henes (MDiv, ThM, DMin) is pastor of Hillsdale Orthodox Presbyterian Church, where he has served since 2008. He is husband to Kimberly and father of five children and grandfather of five (and counting!). He teaches US History and Philosophy of History for Jackson College in Michigan. He is currently working towards a PhD in Humanities with a focus in US Religious History from Faulkner University. In his spare time, he enjoys competing in powerlifting and strongman and teaching homeschoolers Taekwondo.

    More by Everett Henes ›

Subscribe to the Heidelblog today!


Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comments are welcome but must observe the moral law. Comments that are profane, deny the gospel, advance positions contrary to the Reformed confession, or that irritate the management are subject to deletion. Anonymous comments, posted without permission, are forbidden. Please use a working email address so we can contact you, if necessary, about content or corrections.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.