Psaume 103:14

14 Car il sait de quoi nous sommes formés, Il se souvient que nous sommes poussière.

Psaume 103:14 Meaning and Commentary

Psalms 103:14

For he knoweth our frame
The outward frame of their bodies, what brittle ware, what earthen vessels, they be; he being the potter, they the clay, he knows what they are able to bear, and what not; that if he lays his hand too heavy, or strikes too hard, or repeats his strokes too often, they will fall in pieces: he knows the inward frame of their minds, the corruption of their nature, how prone they are to sin; and therefore does not expect perfect services from them: how impotent they are to that which is good; that they can do nothing of themselves; nor think a good thought, nor do a good action; and that their best frames are very uncertain ones; and that, though the spirit may be willing, the flesh is weak. The word used is the same that is rendered "imagination", ( Genesis 6:5 ) ( 8:21 ) , and by which the Jews generally express the depravity and corruption of nature; and so the Targum here paraphrases it,

``for he knows our evil concupiscence, which causes us to sin;''

and to this sense Kimchi.

He remembereth that we are dust
F2; are of the dust originally, and return to it again at death; and into which men soon crumble when he lays his hand upon them; this he considers, see ( Psalms 78:38 Psalms 78:39 ) . The Targum is,

``it is remembered before him, that we are of the dust:''

the Septuagint version makes a petition of it, "remember that we are dust"; and so the Arabic version. And we should remember it ourselves, and be humble before God; and wonder at his grace and goodness to us, ( Genesis 18:27 ) .


FOOTNOTES:

F2 "Pulvis et umbra sumus", Horat. Carmin. l. 4. Ode 7. v. 16.

Psaume 103:14 In-Context

12 Autant l'orient est éloigné de l'occident, Autant il éloigne de nous nos transgressions.
13 Comme un père a compassion de ses enfants, L'Eternel a compassion de ceux qui le craignent.
14 Car il sait de quoi nous sommes formés, Il se souvient que nous sommes poussière.
15 L'homme! ses jours sont comme l'herbe, Il fleurit comme la fleur des champs.
16 Lorsqu'un vent passe sur elle, elle n'est plus, Et le lieu qu'elle occupait ne la reconnaît plus.
The Louis Segond 1910 is in the public domain.