Category: Psalms

Psalm 63:1 (ESV)

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; 
  my soul thirsts for you; 
my flesh faints for you, 
  as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

—Psalm 63:1

“My God”—unless you can say that, you will not understand the longing David speaks of here. “O God, you are my God.” Derek Kidner comments “The simplicity and boldness of Thou art my God is the secret of all that follows.” “Thou art my God” is the key, that unlocks the treasures of this psalm.

“The longing of these verses” Kidner tells us, “is not the groping of a stranger, feeling his way towards God, but the eagerness of a friend, almost of a lover, to be in touch with the one he holds dear.” “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you.” If you never have this longing, this thirst, then consider that the reason may be that you cannot truly say, “my God.” Your may be in a pickle. You may want out. But you are seeking a stranger. You do not really thirst for God. You thirst, and you’re asking God to be your waiter. God is not your water. He is your waiter.

This seeking is not the seeking of a stranger. This is not the seeking of sinful man for God. Scripture declares, “no one seeks for God” (Romans 3:11). Man may seek religion and spirituality, but, Paul explains, such seeking is a way of running from God. We suppress the truth we know about God and create gods in our own image (Romans 1:15–23). Man does not seek after God, yet David does. He “earnestly” seeks after God. Why is it that David seeks? Why do any seek?

Before any say, “my God,” God says, “my people.” This simple language goes back to the Abrahamic covenant and God’s promise to be God to Abraham and his offspring. In faithfulness to this covenant, God declared to Israel through Moses, “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great acts of judgment. I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the LORD your God” (Exodus 6:6–7). God initiates. “I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the LORD your God.” Before any seek God, God seeks them. “We love because he first loved us (1 John 4:9).” This is what Jesus meant when He said, “I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice” (John 10:16). The children of God seek because the Father has sought them.

God reveals Himself in Christ by the Spirit through the Word. God shines in their “hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). That seeing gives us a new nature with a new appetite. It creates a soul that having tasted that the Lord is good, thirsts and hungers for Him.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it” (Matthew 13:44–46).

That kind of seeking is the result of having been sought and found. The seeking of this psalm assumes all of this. The seeking of this psalm is not one for discovery, but from delight. Yet, it is a desperate seeking. This is the kind of thirst that results from having tasted and thus having been ruined for anything else.

Psalm 62:1–2 (ESV)

For God alone my soul waits in silence; 
  from him comes my salvation. 
He alone is my rock and my salvation, 
  my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

—Psalm 62:1–2

The 62nd Psalm opens with a mighty declaration of confidence that sets the tone with which we sing the rest of the psalm. It is a tone of faith and trust.

This silence shushes neither loud singing nor ardent prayer. Pouring “out your heart before” God does not take us away from but towards this this silence.

This silence is a stillness of soul; it is a trustful rest in God. “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” You can see how silence and stillness are parallel in Psalm 83:1. “O God, do not keep silence; do not hold your peace or be still, O God!” Understanding that silence means stillness, we can find further illumination in texts like Psalm 37:7. “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!” This stillness of soul means not fretting over the wicked.

A familiar passage, often misunderstood, is then not only clarified by this, but now serves to clarify. “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (Psalm 46:10). This stillness of soul is not loud with doubt, fear, or murmuring. It is loud with faith, trust, and rest. It is loud with confidence. This silence of soul is an expression of trust—trust in God alone. Trust in God that our salvation comes from Him.

It is a stillness that understands our part is to trust and obey. God’s part is to save and deliver. When it comes to the saving, this stillness of soul realizes two things: 1. I can’t make His salvation happen. 2. They can’t stop His salvation from happening.

This is the kind of trust that takes a deep breath, and then sings, “For God alone my soul waits in silence from him comes my salvation.”

David prays for his prayers. “Hear my cry…listen to my prayer.” David prays for his prayers! The 61st Psalm opens with a prayer that his prayer be heard. David is serious about praying. He is earnest in prayer. He does not just pray to pray. He prays to be answered. He prays prayers that must be answered. Prayer is not sky journaling, therapeutically pouring out your soul to the silent but caring counselor in the heavens. Prayer, specifically petition, is not ultimately about you praying, but God answering.

Oh how little we really pray. How little we really pray is evidenced in this—we don’t look for an answer. I don’t pray enough. I don’t even pray enough lazy prayers. So few are truly earnest. Oh how little we pray even when we do pray. We look with more anticipation for the latest Amazon package to arrive than we do for answers to our prayers. William Plumer writes, “It is a sad mistake with some to offer prayers and then care no more of them. It is not the prayer but the answer to it that brings the blessing.”

Pray, “Deliver me from this temptation!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though your life depended on it.

Pray, “Save my children!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though their life depended on it.

Pray, “Revive your church!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though our hope depended on it.

Pray, “Advance your gospel!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though their hope, the hope of the nations depended on it.

Certainly our prayers should involve more than petition, but are your petitions so petty they are forgettable? Or do you pray prayers that God must answer! Certainly there are many petitions that we may not bring before God as demands. But as you grow to know God, as you cry out with greater insight and specificity “Hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:9–10)—as you do so, there should be an earnestness, a desperation for God to prove Himself to be the God He has promised to be.

“Hear my cry… listen to my prayer.” I’m afraid we don’t pray for our prayers, because we know that so often, our prayers aren’t really worth listening to.

Thou art coming to a King,
large petitions with thee bring,
for his grace and pow'r are such,
none can ever ask too much.

Perhaps we may begin by praying that we would pray prayers worth praying for?

Deliver me from my enemies, O my God; 
protect me from those who rise up against me; 
deliver me from those who work evil, 
and save me from bloodthirsty men.

—Psalm 59:1–2

The rejected ruler seeks the life of God’s chosen one while the chosen one seeks refuge in His God. Again, we have the king in a state of humiliation, crying out to God for deliverance. This is God’s King. This is not how we expect to find him. He has been anointed, but not exalted. In his victory over the giant and his triumphs over the Philistines, something of his might has been seen, but it is this that provokes the jealousy of Saul and sends the shepherd boy back into the hills, but this time as a vagabond.

As we read through the gospels, this is how we find God’s King. He is anointed but not yet exalted. Something of His glory is manifest, but these wonders provoke the jealousy of the powers that be. He wanders, with no place to lay His head. And in this state, the King laments. Isaiah wrote of Him, “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not” (Isaiah 53:3). This is God’s way. He brings His King to exaltation through humiliation.

God’s innocent King laments for what He is certain of. Through lament comes this expression of confidence. Often I’ve said that lament is weak faith crying out towards the strength of confidence and assurance. But when we look to the King crying out, we know His faith was perfect. He poured out His soul in faith, and having poured out His soul, He took faith in the God He poured His heart out to.

Even for He who had perfect faith, lament was the way towards confidence. Saints, because God’s King prayed this prayer, you may too.

O my Strength, I will watch for you, 
for you, O God, are my fortress. 
My God in his steadfast love will meet me; 
God will let me look in triumph on my enemies.

—Psalm 59:9–10

Here is your confidence. God has heard your King. God’s unfailing steadfast covenant love is plain in this, Jesus has looked in triumph on His enemies. Lament. But learn to lament like the King. Lament not only seeking strong faith. Lament with strong faith. Do not just grow strong in faith through lament. Grow in lamenting with strong faith.

Give ear to my prayer, O God, 
     and hide not yourself from my plea for mercy! 
Attend to me, and answer me; 
     I am restless in my complaint and I moan, 
because of the noise of the enemy, 
     because of the oppression of the wicked. 
For they drop trouble upon me, 
     and in anger they bear a grudge against me.

—Psalm 55:1–3

A lament is a cry, and this lament is a cry to be heard. I mean that in three ways.

First, this is a cry to be heard in that we are meant to hear it. This is the word of God, given to us by the Holy Spirit to reveal Christ. God has spoken. Let us listen. David’s cry is a cry you are meant to hear. The King’s lament is meant to welcome your own (v. 22). This is a cry to be heard.

Second, this is a cry to be heard in that being heard is what David is crying out for (vv. 1–2a).  David cries out to God asking to be heard. This speaks to the fervency and intensity with which David laments. This is a cry to be heard.

Third, this is a cry to be heard in that, it is the kind of cry that must be heard. This is the kind of cry that demands a hearing. It is the kind of cry that cannot but be heard. It is like the cry of a sick toddler sleeping near to a loving mother. Such a cry is a cry to be heard. There are many cries a toddler makes which a mother knows need not be heard. These are cries to be ignored. But then, there is the cry to be heard. It must be heard. Such is this cry. Still, the analogy falls short. This cry must be heard not because our misery demands it, but because God’s mercy demands it. For God to be God, this cry must be heard. His covenant faithfulness demands it. This is a cry to be heard.

It is one thing to cry out “I must be heard.” It is another to cry out a prayer that God must hear. David does both. Jesus does them better. Hebrews 5:7 tells us that “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.” With Jesus, the intensity with which He prayed was matched by the intensity with which He must be answered. 

Never so perfectly, but assuredly, you too may cry out “you must hear this” when you reverently understand that for God to be God, He must hear such prayers. Such prayers are rooted in who God has revealed Himself to be in Christ Jesus for us.

This is a cry to be heard. It is God’s Word. You must hear it. And if you hear it, may you learn this two-fold mustness. Not just the mustness of your desperation, but the mustness of God’s declaration.

God’s declaration speaks to our desperation. If such prayers are not heard we may lose our lives, but God will lose His glory. Pray with this kind of mustness: “God if you do not hear my cry, I will perish. God if you do not hear my cry, you are not faithful. My life is a small thing, but your glory is the biggest thing. So have mercy and do not hide yourself from my plea.”

“O God, save me by your name,
and vindicate me by your might…

Behold, God is my helper;
the Lord is the upholder of my life.”

Psalm 54:1, 4

This psalm can feel very familiar and yet very distant. It can feel distant because it is familiar. Here we encounter that which is native to the psalms. This is why it is familiar. And, this is why is seems distant, for what is native to the psalms often feels foreign to us. It’s like having a pocket full of foreign currency in a strange land. We know we’ve got money, but we don’t know how much we’ve got.

This foreign familiarity is frequently so because we try to relate to the psalms in the wrong way. We can’t take them up like a pop song. One can’t come to the psalter as though it were karaoke night, seeking a sad song to express their recent heartache. We cherry pick the psalms for emotional feels while avoiding them intellectually. There are many psalms, that when honestly examined, many think, “I could never pray that!”

Here we have a prayer for deliverance. Most everyone is comfortable with that. When we’re in a real pickle, we will all pray for deliverance. But David also prays for vindication. He prays against his enemies. This is where we get uncomfortable. Here is where this psalm feels foreign to our Christianity. “Vindication? I’m a sinner. Enemies? Aren’t we supposed to love our enemies?”

When we experience such discomfort with the psalter we must begin here: if this psalm feels foreign, it is foreign to me, not to Christianity. When I can’t seem to square it with the New Testament, this is because I’m out of harmony, I’m out of balance, I’ve emphasized some truth such that I cannot understand another truth. So instead of discarding such a psalm off or treating it like a salvage project, picking the good parts, lets recognize that it is truth and then let us seek to recognize the truth that it is.

To begin this, I think our biggest help comes in verse 4. The psalmist turns from prayer to address those listening in on his prayer. Before you pray this prayer, you are meant to listen in to this prayer. You are meant to hear God’s King praying for vindication. How can you sing this psalm? You are meant to sing it with the King.

The reader through the psalms might here experience something of déjà vu? If that’s you, know there is an explanation for the feeling.

The similarity is unavoidable, but the differences are not insignificant. Charles Spurgeon comments, “It is not a copy of the fourteenth psalm, emended and revised by a foreign hand; it is another edition by the same author, emphasized in certain parts, and rewritten for another purpose.”

There are differences not only in content, but in context. Psalm 14 appears in Book I of the Psalms (1–42) while Psalm 53 is in Book II (42–72). Books II and III together make up what is known as the Elohistic Psalter (Psalms 42–83). These psalms show a preference for speaking of the the God of Israel as Elohim (God) instead of Yahweh (the LORD). In the first book, Yahweh is used 272 times while Elohim is used only 15 times, whereas in Book II, Elohim is used 164 times while Yahweh is used only 30 times. Psalm 14 uses Yahweh four times, while Psalm 53 doesn’t use it at all.

Also, within Book II, Psalms 51–70 form a sub-collection of Davidic psalms. All these Psalms, with the exception of Psalms 66 and 67, are attributed to David. Further, Psalms 52–55 are all Maskils. This stands out even more when you observe that Psalms 56–60 are all Miktams. All this to point that these psalms are where they are for a reason. There is purpose.

Additionally, Davidic psalms with historical settings aren’t extremely common. There are only 14 of them in the Psalter. They are more rare in the first book of the Psalms than in the second. The first book has only five, whereas the second has eight. The third psalm is the first psalm with a historical superscription, “A Psalm of David, When He Fled from  Absalom His Son.”  Because of the rarity of historical settings, when read through the first book of the psalms, any time we read about any opposition to David, Absalom is on the mind. The 14th Psalm gives us no setting. When we think of the fool there, Absalom naturally comes to mind.

Whereas when we come to Psalm 53, a different character is suggested. There is an unusual concentration of psalms with headings here and most all of them are relate to a specific time in David’s life, that period when he was fleeing from Saul. Psalm 52 was occasioned by Doeg’s wickedness. Psalm 54 when the Ziphites betrayed David. Psalm 56 was written when David was with the Philistines hiding from Saul. Psalm 57 was written when he fled from Saul and hid in a cave. Psalm 52 relates to events from 1 Samuel 22. Psalm 54 relates to events from 1 Samuel 23. 

Though the superscription of Psalm 53 has no historical setting, there is something in Psalm 53 that relates to 1 Samuel 25. In 1 Samuel 25 we encounter Nabal, who refused to aid David. His wife Abigail was praised as being both discerning and beautiful. Hearing of her husband’s insolence, she comes before David saying, “Let not my lord regard this worthless fellow, Nabal, for as his name is, so is he. Nabal is his name, and folly is with him” (1 Samuel 25:25). This psalm speaks to “nabal.” Nabal’s name is the Hebrew word for “fool.” “The nabal says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” And the chief way Nabal does this, is by saying “No” to God’s King. The supreme way men say “There is no God!” is by saying “There is no eternally begotten Son of God, incarnate of the virgin, Jesus the Christ, Son of David, King of Israel.”

"Why should I fear in times of trouble, 
     when the iniquity of those who cheat me surrounds me, 
those who trust in their wealth 
     and boast of the abundance of their riches? 
Truly no man can ransom another, 
     or give to God the price of his life, 
for the ransom of their life is costly 
     and can never suffice, 
that he should live on forever 
     and never see the pit."

—Psalm 49:5–9

Why should the saints not fear the wicked-rich-powerful? Because no matter how rich they are, they cannot buy their own ransom. Adam was warned that he would surely die when he ate of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 1:27). The wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). In his sin and rebellion, man incurs a debt and that debt is his everlasting soul. It is a debt he cannot pay. The price for life is life. Man cannot pay because he owes himself. Another sinful man cannot pay for him, for that man also owes himself. The wealthy who trust in their wealth trust in that which cannot ransom them. Spurgeon wrote, “They boast of what they will do with us, let them see to themselves. Let them weigh their gold in the scales of death, and see how much they can buy therewith from the worm and the grave. The poor are their equals in this respect… A king’s ransom would be of no avail, a Monte Rosa of rubies, an America of silver, a world of gold, a sun of diamonds, would all be utterly contemned. O ye boasters, think not to terrify us with your worthless wealth, go ye and intimidate death before ye threaten men in whom is immortality and life.” Jesus asked, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26). Why fear those who stand empty-handed before the holy God of heaven?

Still, death is the great leveler. Before God, all our pockets are empty. If you can’t give riches for your life, you can’t give poverty either. So if both the wise and the fool alike die, shouldn’t we fear? We have wicked men to deal with now and a righteous God thereafter—should we not fear?

“For he sees that even the wise die; 
     the fool and the stupid alike must perish 
     and leave their wealth to others” (v. 10)

No, for although the wicked-rich can purchase no ransom, for the poor in spirit, one has been provided.

“But God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, 
     for he will receive me” (v. 15)

What the psalmist could not pay, God has paid for him. God would become poor, so that man might become rich. For Egypt there is darkness and death, but for Israel, there is light and life. But for this to happen, God must provide a Lamb. God has paid Himself. He has paid a life for a life. Jesus Christ, owing no debt, came as the Second Adam and laid down His life. He came to death with His pockets full, having achieved all righteousness in our stead. Jesus endured the darkness. Jesus conquered death. He rose in light with life. He took on our debt so that we might share in His wealth. And though our debt was infinite, His wealth is greater still. We are not simply out of the red, we are wealthy in Christ.

Dear souls, God will accept no ransom from sinful man, but He has provided one in the God-man Jesus Christ. Do not be a fool, receive this wisdom, Jesus Christ the riches of God.

Walk about Zion, go around her, 
     number her towers, 
consider well her ramparts, 
     go through her citadels, 
that you may tell the next generation
     that this is God,
our God forever and ever.
     He will guide us forever.

—Psalm 48:12–14

“Biblical religion,” writes one reformed theologian, “views the whole course of history as a movement from a garden to a city.” I grew up in as rural Oklahoma as you can get on a peanut farm outside the small town of Eakly. And while I did enjoy some time in Tulsa, I have no desire to return to the city. As violence, drugs, and homelessness begin to dominate our cities more and more, they grow even less attractive to me. There are many iconic cities I now have absolutely no desire to ever visit. I’ve never been so glad to live in the country.

But a love for the countryside mustn’t cause us to simply the Biblical storyline like this: Garden good; city corrupt. Yes, Eden was a paradise, and Babel was evil, but in between Eden and Babylon, we do find Jerusalem. Regardless of their evils, don’t fail to think of cities in these two ways. First, in the ancient world, many cities didn’t obscure nature, they harnessed it, as ancient river valley civilizations meant more green and growth, not less. Second, cities were and are an outworking of the mandate for man to have dominion over the earth. As we look at cities we must remember the culture mandate and we must not forget that in between the garden of God and the cities of man there was a fall. So while cities do represent progress in one sense, and they are collectives of depravity of as well. It’s not that cities are more sinful, it is just that there are more sinners.

In this psalm though we are not talking about any city of man, but the city of God. This psalm is a celebration of the city of our God, His holy mountain, Mount Zion, the city of the great king, the city of David, Jerusalem. This city, ultimately, is the church, the assembly of the saints, the heavenly Jerusalem (Hebrews 12:22). She is glorious. So great is the psalmist’s delight in her, we’re almost tempted to say she’s worshipped. But the splendor of the city is the splendor of the her Builder (Hebrews 11:10). The beauty of the bride, is the beauty of her Bridegroom. The glory of the people is the glory of her God. As we survey the city, we behold her God, who dwells in her midst as King. As we survey the ancient city with the Psalmist, we anticipate the heavenly city of the new earth, the city we have a foretaste of in the local church. If the psalmist could so sing these words of Jerusalem, how much more may we now of the church?

Clap your hands, all peoples! 
Shout to God with loud songs of joy! 
For the LORD, the Most High, is to be feared, 
a great king over all the earth.

—Psalm 47:1–2

All churches have liturgies; it is simply a question of whether they have a good one or a bad one. Liturgy is simply the form or ordering of a worship gathering. At Meridian Church, after some preliminaries, our worship gatherings formally begin with a “call to worship.” This historically common practice unfortunately is foreign to many who visit our body. 

What is a call to worship? It is simply a reading of a passage of Scripture to usher forth our hearts unto God. God speaks; we respond. This is the Biblical pattern of worship from Genesis to Revelation. He initiates; we reciprocate. He reveals; we revere. The bride of Christ did not propose to her Bridegroom. In the dance of discipleship and worship that follows their union, He still leads; she still follows. Worship is not something we stir up within. It is something God stirs up within His people. Worship is not generated by man. It is summoned forth by God.

The 47th psalm is a call to worship par excellence and God gives it through His people. The psalms are a gigantic call to worship by our gigantic God. God calls us to worship Himself. Have you ever contemplated that? C.S. Lewis did, and initially, it irritated him.

“When I first began to draw near to belief in God and even for some time after it had been given to me, I found a stumbling block in the demand so clamorously made by all religious people that we should ‘praise’ God; still more in the suggestion that God Himself demanded it. We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand. Thus a picture, at once ludicrous and horrible, both of God and of His worshippers, threatened to appear in my mind. The Psalms were especially troublesome in this way…”.

How did Lewis solve this problem of praise? He gives a few answers, but here are the two I find most satisfying.

“What do we mean when we say that a picture is ‘admirable’? We certainly don’t mean that it is admired (that’s as may be) for bad work is admired by thousands and good work may be ignored. Nor that it ‘deserves’ admiration in the sense in which a candidate deserves a high mark from the examiners—i.e. that a human being will have suffered injustice if it is not awarded. The sense in which the picture ‘deserves’ or ‘demands’ admiration is rather this; that admiration is the correct, adequate or appropriate, response to it, that, if paid, admiration will not be ‘thrown away’, and that if we do not admire we shall be stupid, insensible, and great losers, we shall have missed something. In that way many objects both in Nature and in Art may be said to deserve, or merit, or demand, admiration. It was from this end, which will seem to some irreverent, that I found it best to approach the idea that God ‘demands’ praise. He is that Object to admire which (or, if you like, to appreciate which) is simply to be awake, to have entered the real world; not to appreciate which is to have lost the greatest experience, and in the end to have lost all.”

Lewis goes on to clarify that God does indeed demand praise as the just law giver, but He demands (commands) praise as one who demands (compels) praise. God doesn’t call us to worship Himself as some wicked tyrant, distracting us from that which is transcendently good, true, and beautiful. God calls us to worship Himself as the transcendently good God, the true God, the beautiful God. God’s call to worship then is a call to our greatest joy. This is the second insight of Lewis I appreciate.

“But the most obvious fact about praise—whether of God or anything—strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honour. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise. The world rings with praise—lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favourite poet, walkers praising the countryside, players praising their favourite game—praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars. …I had not noticed either that just as men spontaneously praise whatever they value, so they spontaneously urge us to join them in praising it: ‘Isn’t she lovely? Wasn’t it glorious? Don’t you think that magnificent?’ The Psalmists in telling everyone to praise God are doing what all men do when they speak of what they care about.”

I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.”

The call to worship is an invitation to delight in what is most delightful. Evangelism, proper and good evangelism, is public praise inviting others to rejoice in the good news of Christ. “Taste and see that the LORD is good” (Psalm 34:8). Missions is praise calling for praise. It is worship calling for worship. It is joy calling for joy.