Psalm 127: An unfinished building project

1. Unless the Lord builds the house,

They labour in vain who build it;

Unless the Lord guards the city,
The watchman stays awake in vain.

2. It is vain for you to rise up early,
To sit up late,
To eat the bread of sorrows;
For so He gives His beloved sleep.

3. Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
4. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.

5. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them;
They shall not be ashamed,
But shall speak with their enemies in the gate.

Isn't that half-verse music to our ears?  "It is vain to rise up early"!  YES!  the Bible says it is vain to get up early! :-)  Amen!  Much of the reading I have been doing over the last weeks, from different perspectives, has been about the importance of Sabbath as a gift of God.  Sabbath is (as Walter Bruegemann puts it) an act of rebellion against the Empire of consumerism - our anxiety and overwork is a symptom of our self importance and our self-reliance and ultimately a denail of God's gift of rest.

This psalm is about building - something - building it with God and at God's pace.

Hebrew scholars (and I am not one!) have pointed out wordplay in this psalm which is not immediately apparent in an English translation.  

The Psalm begins:

Unless the LORD builds (banah) the house (bayit)…

Then in verse 3:

Behold, children (banim, plural of ben) are a heritage from the LORD…

So within just three verses, you have:

• House (bayit) – the physical or social structure.
• Build (banah) – the act of creating and establishing.
• Children (banim) – the living continuation of that “house.”

In Hebrew thought, the “house” is not just walls — it’s the family line, the legacy, the ongoing life within those walls. That’s why building and children are thematically linked here without feeling like a random jump.  The real “building” is not just the walls — it’s the life and relationships that continue within and beyond them.  And the real “security” is not just watchmen at the gates — it’s the community and legacy God nurtures.

If the Psalm were re-framed/rewritten so that the English reader might the same wordplay and thematic flow the Hebrew listener would have caught with bayit (house), banah (build), and ben (son/children), it might read something like this:

Unless the Lord is the Builder,

the house you build is only walls.

Unless the Lord is the Guard,

the city you watch is only stone.

You rise early, stay up late,

and feed yourself on anxious bread,

but the Lord gives rest to those He loves.

Look — the truest “building” is the life within.

Children — the living stones of a household —

are the Lord’s gift,

the reward of His hands.

Like arrows shaped and set free,

they go further than the builder’s reach.

Blessed is the one whose house is full —

for they will stand together at the gates,

unafraid.

I think when I first read this Psalm, and the verse which describes children as "Like arrows in the hand of a warrior", I imagined the Psalm might be saying that children are like arrows that you can unleash on your enemies!  Maybe that was easier for me to imagine when my children were aged 2, 4 and 6!  But nowadays I can't imagine any of them doing much damage (or wanting to do any damage) to any of my "enemies"!

I think the idea here continues the theme of building - building a community, building a people.  The children are like arrows in that you release them and they travel much further more quickly than you could, when you are gone, they still fly... maybe they expand the community and take it in directions you could never imagine!  My children have certainly opened up our family with diversity it has not known before.  And this may not be literal children, but the people we invest in, those we mentor and encourage.

We're all building something.

A house. A career. A family. A reputation.

A church community. A congregation. A pioneering project.

We pour in effort — early starts, late nights, worry-soaked bread.

But without God’s breath in it,

it’s just walls and watchtowers —

structures that may stand for a while,

but hold no lasting life.

The real “house” is more than timber and stone.

It’s the people who belong there.

It’s the life that continues after we’re gone.

It’s the legacy of faith, compassion, and justice

that we release into the world.

The psalmist reminds us:

children — in the literal sense,

or in the wider sense of those we nurture and invest in —

are not possessions or trophies.

They are gifts.

Gifts we shape for a time,

and then let go, like arrows from the bow,

to travel further than we ever could.

what are you building?

And is God at the centre of it?

Because only God’s building —

whether in houses, in cities, or in people —

will stand the test of time.

A Prayer

God who creates and builds; who fashions and shapes; who plants and nourishes;

teach us to labour with You,

and not in our own anxious strength.

Show us how to shape living stones — people, hopes, and communities —

into something lasting and life-giving.

Give us the grace to rest,

and the courage to release what we have built

into Your keeping.

Amen.