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In his third book of daily meditations, Sam Storms urges readers to not just enter into God's Word but to take the next step toward knowing him and his Word better. And the book of Psalms, Storms believes, is a great place to start, because Psalms is so popular and so very relevant to our experiences today. In More Precious Than Gold, Storms combines years of life experience and his biblical and theological training to bring readers 50 brief, daily meditations that are both stylistically accessible and theologically substantive. Each meditation includes a historical or theological reflection on the psalm in context, a story that brings it alive, and creative tools to support the key idea. Storms also interweaves the words of such luminaries as Charles Spurgeon, Jonathan Edwards, and John Piper to help readers better understand the concepts that are featured throughout Psalms: worship, prayer, joy, forgiveness, steadfast love, mercy, sin's consequences, the law of the Lord, and our relationship with our enemies. Like the Psalter, Storms doesn't shy away from the tough issues. Instead, he encourages readers to experience through these daily meditations what he and generations of Christians have found to be true: that the whole of the Christian faith is about lifting God higher and magnifying his name-even during difficult times.
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More Precious Than Gold: 50 Daily Meditations on the Psalms
Copyright © 2008 by Enjoying God Ministries
Published by Crossway Booksa publishing ministry of Good News Publishers1300 Crescent StreetWheaton, Illinois 60187
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law.
Design and typesetting: Lakeside Design PlusCover design: Jon McGrathCover illustration: iStockFirst printing 2008Printed in the United States of America
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Scripture references marked NIV are from The Holy Bible: New International Version®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
The “NIV” and “New International Version” trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society. Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society.
Scripture quotations marked NASB are from The New American Standard Bible®. Copy-right © The Lockman Foundation 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995. Used by permission.
All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added by the author.
Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-0261-3PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-0561-4Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-0562-1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataStorms, C. Samuel, 1951–More precious than gold : 50 daily meditations on the Psalms / Sam Storms.p. cm.ISBN 978-1-4335-0261-3 (tpb)1. Bible. O.T. Psalms—Meditations. I. Title.
BS1430.54.S76 2008242'.2—dc22
2008038696
VP 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 09 0815 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To
Glen BurnsSteve CarpenterDavid Lightfoot
Board members of Enjoying God Ministries,without whose faithful and prayerful support this book wouldnever have been written
Contents
Acknowledgments
Preface: First among Equals
Part 1: Psalms 1–19 from Book 1 of the Psalter
1. God’s Prescription for Happiness (1:1–3)
2. Read to Rejoice (1:1–3)
3. The Lifter of My Head (3:3)
4. More Joy (4:7)
5. What Makes God Smile? (5)
6. Enough! (10)
7. How Long, O Lord? Part 1 (13)
8. How Long, O Lord? Part 2 (13)
9. The Rewards of Integrity (15)
10. Satisfaction (16)
11. Look Up and Listen (19:1–6)
12. Drippings of the Honeycomb (19:7–14)
Part 2: Psalms 22–37 from Book 1 of the Psalter
13. The Agony and the Ecstasy (22)
14. God’s Aim Is the Fame of His Name (23:3)
15. The Good Shepherd and the Gracious Host (23)
16. One Thing, Once More (27:4)
17. The Blessedness of Forgiveness (32)
18. The Stability of His Steadfast Love (33)
19. Pursuing God (34)
20. Those Troubling Psalms of Imprecation: Part 1 (35, etc.)
21. Those Troubling Psalms of Imprecation: Part 2 (35, etc.)
22. Those Troubling Psalms of Imprecation: Part 3 (35, etc.)
23. Delight Yourself in the Lord (37:4)
Part 3: Psalms 42–63 from Book 2 of the Psalter
24. Preaching to Your Soul (42–43)
25. A Mighty Fortress Is Our God (46)
26. When Mercy Scrubs Clean the Soul: Part 1 (51)
27. When Mercy Scrubs Clean the Soul: Part 2 (51)
28. I Will Lift Up My Hands (63:4)
Part 4: Psalms 73–88 from Book 3 of the Psalter
29. It’s All a Matter of Perspective (73)
30. Our Lack, His Supply (84)
31. Reaching God’s Ear (86)
32. Darkness, My Only Companion (88)
Part 5: Psalms 91–104 from Book 4 of the Psalter
33. Hiding Place (91)
34. Worship That Pleases God (92–98)
35. The Fragrance of Gratitude (100)
36. Before the Throne of God Above (103:10–12)
37. God’s Compassion for “Dust” (103:14)
38. Lord of the Stork and the Rock Badger (104)
Part 6: Psalms 115–150 from Book 5 of the Psalter
39. How’s Your Aim? (115)
40. Now to Him Who Is Able (115:3)
41. Sweeter than Honey to My Mouth (119)
42. Forgiveness: The Foundation for Fear (130:3–4)
43. Omniscient (139:1–6)
44. Omnipresent (139:7–12)
45. Omnipotent (139:13–18)
46. Finding God in the Cave (142)
47. No One Cares for My Soul (142)
48. The Unsearchable Splendor of God (145)
49. Lord of the Stars, Healer of Hearts (147)
50. Praise Him! Praise Him! (148–150)
Appendix: Understanding the Psalms
Notes
Acknowledgments
I am extremely grateful for the editorial skills of Lydia Brown-back. This is the third in a series of meditations on Scripture that she has edited for me, and I am profoundly thankful for her excellence in making these volumes better than they otherwise would have been.
No one has exerted a greater influence on my understanding of the Psalms than the nineteenth-century Baptist preacher Charles Haddon Spurgeon (I quote his Treasury of David countless times in this series of meditations). It seems only appropriate to mention him in particular and to share briefly my experience upon visiting the tiny chapel where he was brought to faith in Jesus Christ.
At first we couldn’t find it. We walked a long way down Artillery Street in a less than thriving area of Colchester, England. I was the guest of Graham Stevens and Abbeyfield Community Church, where he is the senior pastor. I had spoken there on Saturday night and Sunday morning (February 23–24, 2008), and we took the opportunity that afternoon to go in search of the tiny chapel where Charles Spurgeon was converted.
Graham insisted he knew where it was, having been there before. But it had been a while, and there was nothing in the area that alerted us to its presence. We passed several taverns where local soccer (they call it “football”) fans were overheard debating the matches of the previous day.
Finally, Graham remembered. It was easy to miss. Set back from the street amidst rows of attached homes, the only clues as to the location of the chapel were a few small signs indicating the place at which Charles Haddon Spurgeon had been saved.
In one of the many magazines to which I subscribe there was recently an article describing, together with color photos, several of the larger and more innovative church buildings here in the United States. Trust me, Artillery Street Chapel in Colchester would never have qualified, then or now. There is still a very small congregation meeting there. Before Pastor Derek Hale arrived in 1991 it had three members. When he died of cancer in October 1999, the church had grown to eight. By 2006 the membership had grown to fourteen.
The chapel is quite small, perhaps capable of holding seventy-five people. There is nothing to distinguish it physically, but spiritually, well, that’s another matter. As I walked in, I immediately noticed a large bronze plaque on the wall indicating the supposed spot where young Spurgeon had sat on January 6, 1850, although he never planned on being there.
Spurgeon had lived a few miles away in the village of Hythe. On that Sunday morning in 1850 he was intent on attending another service, desperate as he was to be rid of the guilt of sin that burdened his soul. “I sometimes think,” wrote Spurgeon, that “I might have been in darkness and despair until now had it not been for the goodness of God in sending a snowstorm.”1 The unexpected shift in weather forced him to seek shelter in what was then a nondescript Primitive Methodist chapel where no more than a dozen people were in attendance.
Said Spurgeon, “I had heard of the Primitive Methodists, how they sang so loudly that they made people’s heads ache; but that did not matter to me. I wanted to know how I might be saved, and if they could tell me that, I did not care how much they made my head ache.”
The minister was not present, evidently snowed in. Finally, a thin-looking man went up into the pulpit to preach. “Now, it is well that preachers should be instructed, but this man was really stupid [Spurgeon’s words, not mine!]. He was obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason that he had little else to say.” The text he selected was: “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.” There was, Spurgeon thought, “a glimpse of hope for me in that text.” The “preacher” continued:
Now lookin’ don’t take a deal of pain. It ain’t liftin’ your foot or your finger; it is just, “Look.” Well, a man needn’t go to College to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool, and yet you can look. A man needn’t be worth a thousand a year to be able to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look. . . . Look unto Me; I am sweatin’ great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hangin’ on the cross. Look unto Me; I am dead and buried. Look unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend to Heaven. Look unto Me; I am sittin’ at the Father’s right hand. O poor sinner, look unto Me! Look unto Me!
After about ten minutes, “he was at the end of his tether,” noted Spurgeon. He recalled:
Then he looked at me under the gallery [which, by the way, is still there but has long since been boarded up], and I daresay, with so few present, he knew me to be a stranger. Just fixing his eyes on me, as if he knew all my heart, he said, “Young man, you look very miserable.” Well, I did, but I had not been accustomed to have remarks made from the pulpit on my personal appearance before. . . . He continued, “and you always will be miserable—miserable in life, and miserable in death—if you don’t obey my text; but if you obey now, this moment, you will be saved.” . . . I saw at once the way of salvation. . . . Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away. There and then the cloud was gone, the darkness had rolled away, and that moment I saw the sun; and I could have risen that instant, and sung with the most enthusiastic of them, of the precious blood of Christ, and the simple faith which looks alone to Him. Oh, that somebody had told me this before, “Trust Christ, and you shall be saved.” Yet it was, no doubt, all wisely ordered, and now I can say—
E’er since by faith I saw the streamThy flowing wounds supply,Redeeming love has been my theme,And shall be till I die.
Who would have expected that life-giving, sin-cleansing, soul-redeeming grace could be found in that little chapel? Who would have expected that God might use the solemn words of an incredibly simple and stammering man?
Grace cares little of where it is needed. It simply goes and saves and delivers and sanctifies. God doesn’t need a spacious sanctuary or multi-media technology or cutting-edge sound equipment. His grace is sovereign and not the least concerned about the surroundings in which it does its work.
Make no mistake about it. On that day the breath of God blew and a blizzard turned aside a searching young soul into an out-of-the- way chapel. That same breath confined a minister to his home and stirred an uneducated layman to ascend a pulpit. And that same, saving breath brought life to the dead, dry bones of a fifteen-year-old boy. And we are all the better for it. Spurgeon too.
Sam StormsSeptember 2008
Preface
First among Equals
Confidence, or assurance, most often comes in degrees, which is another way of saying that I’m not as certain about some things as I am about others. I say this only to point out that few things are more settled and assured in my soul than the immeasurable value and life-changing power of the written Word of God. That alone accounts for why I have written this series of meditations on the book of Psalms.
There is a measure of satisfaction that comes from reading and deciphering a John le Carré spy novel or, for some (not me), tracking with J. K. Rowling and the many exploits of Harry Potter. But the Word of God is unparalleled and unsurpassed in its capacity to enthrall, empower, and enlighten the mind concerning those truths on which I have built my life and staked my eternal destiny.
The psalmists themselves undoubtedly concur. On numerous occasions they affirm without hesitation the priceless and incomparable value of God’s inspired Word. “In the way of your testimonies,” wrote David, “I delight as much as in all riches” (Ps. 119:14). If that language isn’t sufficiently exalted, he goes on to declare that “the law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces” (v. 72), and again, “I love your commandments above gold, above fine gold” (v. 127). The written rules and precepts of the Lord are more desirable “than gold, even much fine gold” (Ps. 19:10a). Or if you prefer an even more tangible image, David insists that God’s words are “sweeter . . . than honey and drippings of the honeycomb” (v. 10b).
This is perhaps the principal reason why, if you were to ask a typical group of Christians what their favorite book of the Bible is, I suspect more than half would cite the Psalms. While happily confessing that all Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for our lives, there’s something special about the Psalter that makes it the first among equals in the biblical canon.
Perhaps it’s the fact that no one struggles to find the Psalms relevant. There is something here for everyone in whatever walk of life, however old or young one may be, regardless of circumstance, whether in triumph or trial, joy or sadness. Rarely will you hear someone say, after reading the Psalter, “I just can’t identify with this. It doesn’t speak to me where I am in life right now.”
Among countless other characteristics of the Psalter, many would point to the fact that whereas most of Scripture speaks to us, the Psalms also speak for us. In the Psalms we find inspired examples of what we can and should and must say to God. They are a per-petual reminder that God welcomes our deepest desires, our most unnerving of fears, our anxiety and adoration, our celebration, and our confusion.
Some point to the passion of the psalmists, or their praise, or their brutal and sometimes painful honesty as they wrestle through the confusion and loss and disappointment that life so often casts our way. As Don Williams put it, “The full range of human emotions is displayed in these living prayers, without the hypocrisy and pretense so often characteristic of the modern church.”1
The Psalter is also undeniably God-centered. When I asked my wife, Ann, what impressed her most about the Psalms and how she might put this in one simple statement, she replied, “Woe is me! Wow is Thee!” I couldn’t agree more. Human beings in all their weakness and misery and sin are here confronted with the wonder and mercy and splendor of God.
Well, that’s enough, lest I delay any longer your exploration of this marvelous collection of prayer, praise, and passion. I have kept these meditations brief. Each can be read in five to ten minutes. I encourage you to first read the biblical text itself, slowly meditate upon it, perhaps even memorize portions of it, and only then turn to my comments. I trust that in doing so you, too, will find God’s words to be more precious than gold and sweeter than honey.
P a r t
1
Psalms 1–19
from Book 1 of the Psalter
1
God’s Prescriptionfor Happiness
Psalm 1:1–3
Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners,nor sits in the seat of scoffers;but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree planted by streams of waterthat yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.In all that he does, he prospers.
—Psalm 1:1–3
In most instances I like to leave myself a little theological wiggle room, a loophole, if you will, a measure of flexibility that affords me the opportunity of qualifying some statement that I’ve made. In fact, it’s often the failure to provide nuance and clarification to our declarations that gets us in trouble or boxes us in to a position that on more mature reflection clearly calls for less inflammatory language or more charity to those who might take a different stance.
I say this only to prepare you for something Jonathan Edwards declared in a remarkable sermon entitled, “Nothing upon Earth Can Represent the Glories of Heaven.” It is utterly lacking in nuance. Its boldness is breathtaking and its ramifications are profound. And it provides a perfect introduction to our series of meditations on selected psalms. Said Edwards, “God created man for nothing else but happiness. He created him only that he might communicate happiness to him.”1
Would you have preferred that he not say “nothing else” but happiness? Or would it have been easier to swallow had he chosen a word other than “only”? Well, that’s Edwards for you.
I’m convinced that once we understand what Edwards meant by “happiness” and how our experience of it relates to the glory of God, objections will cease. By “happiness” Edwards didn’t mean giddiness or frivolity or fame or fortune. Few of the things that constitute happiness for people today were in view when Edwards wrote and preached this sermon.
Let me define the term by appealing to what I wrote in chapter 1 of my book One Thing.2
When I speak of human happiness I’m not talking about physical comfort or a six-figure salary or emotional stability or the absence of conflict or sexual gratification or any such earthly or temporal achievement. That’s not to say such things are inherently wrong. In their proper place they may well be expressions of divine benevolence. But we greatly err if they become foundational to human happiness. We should be grateful for them, but happiness is still within our grasp despite their absence.
The happiness for which we are eternally destined is a state of soul in which we experience and express optimum ecstasy in God. Happiness is the whole soul resting in God and rejoicing that so beautiful and glorious a Being is ours. Happiness, as John Piper says, is the privilege of being enabled by God’s grace to enjoy making much of him forever. I’m talking about the ineffable and unending pleasure of blissful union with and the joyful celebration of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This is a joy of such transcendent quality that no persecution or pain or deprivation can diminish, nor wealth or success or prosperity can enhance. It’s what Paul had in mind in Philippians 4:11 when he spoke of a satisfaction in Christ that was beyond the reach of either adversity or abundance.
In another of Edwards’s sermons (actually, the first formal sermon he ever preached), he put it this way:
The pleasures of loving and obeying, loving and adoring, blessing and praising the Infinite Being, the Best of Beings, the Eternal Jehovah; the pleasures of trusting in Jesus Christ, in contemplating his beau-ties, excellencies, and glories; in contemplating his love to mankind and to us, in contemplating his infinite goodness and astonishing loving-kindness; the pleasures of [the] communion of the Holy Ghost in conversing with God, the maker and governor of the world; the pleasure that results from the doing of our duty, in acting worthily and excellently; . . . these are the pleasures that are worthy of so noble a creature as a man is.3
I’ve gone to the trouble of making this point because I believe this is what the psalmist had in mind when he wrote of being “blessed” (Ps. 1:1a), a word that occurs twenty-six times in the Psalter. In fact, Psalm 1 begins with the word blessed and God’s prescription for its attainment.
Believe it or not, happiness or blessedness can be found in some-thing negative! There is joy in saying no. But to whom or what do we respond with a resolute no? According to the psalmist, it is to the counsel of the wicked (a reference to what we believe), the way of sinners (a reference to the way we behave), and the seat of scoffers (a reference to the place we belong).
The psalmist speaks of the “counsel” of the wicked, not of their “error” or “falsehood.” “The wicked” are often careful to cast their system of thought and their advice for life in ways that initially appear wise and coherent. But there is a fundamental flaw in their thinking, and their values are warped. Happiness is contingent, therefore, on discernment.
Sinners have a “way” that, again, often appears clever and insightful on first glance. Rarely do the wicked exert an influence by taking on the overt barbarism of a Jeffrey Dahmer or a Saddam Hussein. More often they are quietly pragmatic in their methods, morally slippery in their lifestyle, and cool rather than openly resistant toward any notion of biblical authority.
Yes, there are those who are more explicit and unashamed in their denial of the faith. These are the “scoffers,” the “mockers,” seen most recently in the brazen atheism of Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion; and Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith and Letter to a Christian Nation.
The psalmist is not suggesting that we cease to engage “the wicked” in dialogue, far less that we decline to pray for their conversion. But beware of too close association with such folk. Be wary of lingering long in their presence. Don’t be a party to their parties.
But simply saying no to the ways of this world is only half the prescription for happiness, and not even the better half. When our no stands alone and isolated, our resolve to rejoice in God will gradually erode under the incessant force of temptation and trial. God’s prescription for our happiness, to his glory, is dependent on a yes to the beauty and splendor of his Word.
We can’t afford to stop with detesting the ways of the world. We must “delight” in the “law of the Lord”! Refusing to eat the food of folly and wickedness will not in itself fill our spiritual bellies. We need the meat of God’s Word, the balanced diet of the whole counsel of God. That feast awaits us in the next meditation.
2
Read to Rejoice
Psalm 1:1–3
Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners,nor sits in the seat of scoffers;but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.He is like a tree planted by streams of waterthat yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.In all that he does, he prospers.
While in England in February 2007, I had the privilege of speaking yet again at the Life in the Spirit conference. During one of the messages given by fellow speaker Dave Smith, he made passing reference to my book Pleasures Evermore, and articulated in a most refreshing and poignant way its principal theme. “When it comes to living a successful Christian life,” said Dave, “and resisting the power of temptation, simply saying ‘No! No! No!’ won’t suffice. We must learn to say ‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’”
I like that. His point was that, by itself, fear has limited capacity to deter our hearts from sin. To it must be added fascination. Resisting is empowered by rejoicing. By all means detest the ugly and revolting and destructive elements in life. But by what means? Delight!
Make no mistake: we need to be warned. But we must first be wooed. Fear drives us, but fascination draws us. The psalmist’s strategy for blessedness is not mere avoidance but allurement.
I don’t want you to miss this, so look again at Psalm 1:1–3. De-light, not mere duty, should characterize our study of God’s Word. Reading the law of God is for the purpose of rejoicing in what is read.
This is a stretch for many Christians. They’ve grown up thinking and being taught that there is an inescapable tension, if not contradiction, between pleasure and principles, between rejoicing and rules. It comes as nothing short of a jolt to read of delighting in the law of God. God’s law, or revealed instruction, has often been viewed as oppressive, restrictive, and burdensome, hardly the sort of thing to evoke joy or excitement.
This will always be the case until we understand the motive of the Lawgiver. What did God have in mind when he put his Word in the mouth of his prophets? To what did God aspire when he moved to inspire the biblical authors? Did he take note of what brings great-est joy to the human heart and then stir Moses, for example, to say no? Off limits! Out of bounds!
Would it surprise you to discover that God’s primary agenda in the giving of his law is your optimal and most durable delight? God’s strategy in disclosing his will and ways, whether in the form of rules, prohibitions, commandments, or exhortations isn’t to muzzle human joy but to maximize it.
The precepts and principles of his Word, even those in the Pentateuch, which is probably what the psalmist had in mind with his use of the word “law,” are designed to guard us from anything that might dull our spiritual senses and thus inhibit us from seeing and savoring the sweetness of God’s glory. In other words, when God prohibits or prescribes, dictates or directs, it is always with a view to enhancing our highest and most satisfying enjoyment of him.
God wants nothing more than to heighten and sharpen our sensible awareness of his revelation of himself. And he knows what we don’t, namely, that sin anesthetizes our souls and renders us dull and numb to his presence. Every commandment in Scripture, every precept, every prohibition or principle is lovingly designed to lead us away from what otherwise might spoil our appetite for God.
Is it unsettling for you to hear the words of the psalmist: “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth” (Ps. 119:103)? Sweet, not sour. God’s words taste good! If there is any initial pain in embracing the dictates of God’s law, do so with a view to interminable pleasure. Whatever short-term sacrifice one makes must always be with a view to the increase and intensification of long-term, indeed eternal and heavenly, reward.
Be it noted that the psalmist is far from advocating a study of the biblical text as an end in itself. We delight in the law of the Lord because that is how we get God. We do not worship pen or parchment. Ink on a page is not our aim but the God who inspired it. We read it because it tells us of him. We study words because they show us the Word. When we read the stories and hear the poetry and tremble at his truth, the Spirit awakens us to the beauty of their author and deepens our experience of his love and kindness and power and goodness.
But merely possessing the Word of God accomplishes nothing. We must meditate upon it, not momentarily or fitfully, but day and night. The point is, according to Jonathan Edwards, that we must “endeavor to increase spiritual appetites by meditating on spiritual objects.”4When we surrender our minds to base and sordid things their grip on our lives is intensified. There’s no way to decrease our affinity for sinful pleasure apart from a concentrated fixation on the spiritually sublime.
God’s Word is a powerful and life-giving antidote to the spiritual infection caused by sin. But merely affirming that to be true heals no one. More is needed than merely defending God’s Word as worthy of our affection. We must actually “think” (Phil. 4:8) about it, ponder it, pore over it, and become vulnerable to the power God has invested in his revelation to transform our values and feelings and to energize our wills.
We must “store up” or “treasure” God’s Word in our hearts if it is to exert its power in keeping us from sin (Ps. 119:11). When this happens the Holy Spirit enables our souls to believe and behave in conformity with its dictates.
A passing glance at God’s Word will hardly suffice. Day-and-night meditation is called for. We meditate when we slowly read, prayerfully imbibe, and humbly rely upon what God has revealed to us in the Scriptures. Meditation, then, is being attentive to God through conscious, continuous engagement of the mind with his revealed Word.
The psalmist has narrowed our options to two. Either we find satisfaction in the truth of God’s law, trusting the power of his Word to make known his person, or we heed the counsel of the wicked and walk in their ways. The former yields a fruitful, enduring, and prosperous life (vv. 2–3). The latter suffers the fate of chaff that is blown in the wind (vv. 4–6).
3
The Lifter of My Head
Psalm 3:3
But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.
—Psalm 3:3
Absalom was David’s third son. His second son, Chileab, is never mentioned after reference to his birth, and the assumption is that he died early on. David’s firstborn son was Amnon. The story of how Amnon died is a sordid one.
Amnon raped his half-sister, Tamar, and Absalom, Tamar’s brother, swore revenge. It took two years but finally Absalom arranged for Amnon to be killed. Fearing punishment, Absalom went into exile for three years. When he finally returned to Jerusalem, David refused to see him. Two more years passed before David and his son were reunited, although even then they weren’t reconciled.
Absalom’s plot to take the throne from his father probably emerged gradually. He began by currying favor with the people (2 Sam. 15:1–6). He portrayed himself as one who was interested in people by telling them he was far more capable of helping them with their troubles and securing justice for their complaints than was David. According to 2 Samuel 15:6, “Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel.”
Once Absalom felt secure in his position, he made his move. He went to Hebron, assembled his followers, and had himself anointed king (2 Sam. 15:7–12). With a considerable army behind him, he marched against his father in Jerusalem and forced David to flee (2 Sam. 15:13–17). Following a shameful period of absence from his throne, the armies of David eventually prevailed. Absalom was killed, contrary to his father’s express wishes, serving only to intensify the latter’s pain.
What an amazing scene: David, driven from his throne, subjected to indescribable humiliation, not by a pagan Gentile king but by his own son! Absalom’s treachery and rebellion must have crushed David’s heart. Here is the important point: it was while David was fleeing the armies of Absalom, broken by the spiteful betrayal of his own child, that he sat down and wrote the words of Psalm 3.
It wasn’t while he sat on a golden throne with servants at his beck and call. It wasn’t while lying on satin sheets and a soft pillow knowing that all was well with his family and among his people. Rather, it was in the midst of his most devastating and desperate hour that he penned these remarkable words:
O LORD, how many are my foes! Many are rising against me;many are saying of my soul, there is no salvation for him in God. Selah.
But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. (Ps. 3:1–3)
David’s anguish was no doubt magnified by the fact that his adversaries were primarily from among his own people. Those once closest to him, those in whom he had once placed his confidence and trust, are now among those whose accusations are most bitter and hateful.
One of the primary tactics of such enemies is to undermine our faith in God to help us. David may well have been taunted with statements like: “If God is so good and so great, how come we’ve got the upper hand? How come you’re on the run, David? Where is your God now, when you need him most?”
Perhaps they began to throw David’s sin back in his face: his relationship with Bathsheba, the murder of Uriah, and his failure as a father to Amnon and Absalom. “God’s not going to put up with that sort of thing, David. He’s abandoned you for sure!” Charles Spurgeon was right:
If all the trials which come from heaven, all the temptations which ascend from hell, and all the crosses which arise from earth, could be mixed and pressed together, they would not make a trial so terrible as that which is contained in this verse (v. 2). It is the most bitter of all afflictions to be led to fear that there is no help for us in God.5
Yet, in the midst of such affliction, accusation, and abandonment, David’s cry is for the “LORD,” YHWH, the covenant-keeping God (v. 1). David obviously knew that the hypnotic and paralyzing power of the enemy is broken only by turning one’s gaze back to God (Deut. 1:28–30). So he encourages himself by recalling three things about God.
First, God is a shield about him (see Pss. 18:2, 30; 28:7; 33:20; 84:11; 91:4; 115:9–11). But the fact that God is a shield does not prevent one’s enemies from continuing to shoot their arrows. Yet such an attack is fruitless in cutting us off from the security of God’s love. Said Tozer:
What we need very badly these days is a company of Christians who are prepared to trust God as completely now as they know they must do at the last day. For each of us the time is coming when we shall have nothing but God. Health and wealth and friends and hiding places will be swept away and we shall have only God. To the man of pseudo faith that is a terrifying thought, but to real faith it is one of the most comforting thoughts the heart can entertain.6
Second, God is his glory. This could mean that David awaits God’s vindication. He has been driven away in shame, humiliation, and weakness, his pride broken and his reputation slandered. Still, though, he’s confident that God will restore his dignity and honor as king. Or it could be his way of saying, “I have no glory of my own. I put no trust in my fame or fortune. You alone, O God, are the joy, boast, and glory of my life.”
Third, God is the one who lifts his head. David left Jerusalem not only defeated but dejected, despondent, depressed. He hung his head in shame (see 2 Sam. 15:30). But he is confident that God will elevate his face and restore his hope.
When people are shy or unsure of themselves, perhaps due to some insecurity or recent failure, they rarely look up or make eye contact with you. Their aim is to pass by without being noticed. They hug the wall lest a personal encounter expose their shame. Their deep feelings of inadequacy lead to withdrawal and silence. The last thing they want is to see or be seen. Fixing their eyes on the floor is safety for their soul. Embarrassment always expresses itself in a physical posture that is guarded and cautious.
David was probably having doubts about himself—about the validity of his calling, about his capacity to rule, about his worth as a man. Absalom’s treachery inflicted a depth of humiliation the human soul was never built to endure. It was emotionally crippling and threatened to destroy David’s credibility and his confidence as a man after God’s own heart.
Some of you know exactly how David felt. In your case it may have been a stinging defeat, an embarrassing failure, or perhaps a public humiliation that you fear has forever destroyed your usefulness or your value to God or a place in his purposes. It’s a devastating feeling. The enemy will often exploit the opportunity by reminding you of virtually every sin you’ve committed, reinforcing the painful conviction that you are now beyond recovery, hopelessly helpless, a stain on the public face of the church.
It might even be the rebellion of a child, as in the case of David. For some it’s the demise of a business venture into which you poured every ounce of energy and income. Or it might be something less catastrophic, but no less painful, such as a failed attempt at public ministry or an embarrassing misstep that left you feeling exposed and unprotected.
In David’s case, despite this crushing blow at the hands of his son, his faith in God never wavered, or at least not so as to throw him into utter despair. There was always and only One who was able to restore his strength and straighten his body and give him reason to hold his head high.
This isn’t arrogance or presumption or fleshly defiance but humble, wholehearted assurance that God can do for us what we can’t do for ourselves. People often say, “I just can’t bear to look anyone in the face after this.” But God will make you able! He is the Lord who “makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor” (1 Sam. 2:7–8).
Yes, indeed, said David, “he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock. And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the LORD” (Ps. 27:5–6).
Finally, it’s important to remember that, notwithstanding David’s faith, Absalom died rebellious and estranged from his father. “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son” (2 Sam. 18:33). Sometimes our circumstances don’t turn out for the better. But no matter what transpires, of this you may be sure: God is a shield about you. He is your glory. He is the one who will lift your head.
4
More Joy
Psalm 4:7
You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.
—Psalm 4:7
The message trumpeted by the world, the flesh, and the devil is relatively simple. It’s often packaged in different shapes and sounds, but the underlying theme is monotonously the same. Like a reverberating echo in an empty cave, the refrain is incessant, unending, and unchanging: “There is more joy in illicit sex than in Jesus. There is more joy in goodies and gold than in Jesus. There is more joy in power, pride, and a druginduced high than in Jesus. There is more joy in looking fit and feeling good and in the latest fashion than in Jesus.”
I fear for my grandchildren. Not because I lack faith in God or suffer from paranoia. I’ll briefly explain. When my two grandsons, Joseph and John, were three-and-a-half years old and two years old, respectively, my wife and I took them to the mall to ride the train. Directly across from it, next to the merry-go-round, was Victoria’s Secret, the display case filled with near-naked mannequins clothed only in sexually seductive lingerie.
I commented to Ann that it wasn’t until high school that I was confronted with images like that, and even then one had to buy a magazine in a seedy shop or sneak under-aged into an R-rated movie. The sixties weren’t especially spiritual, but at least television, billboards, and the shopping mall were relatively safe. Yet here were my two precious grandsons, already exposed to the underbelly of human depravity.
As we somberly walked out, store after store, sign after sign, song after song perpetuated the refrain: “Buy me. Taste mine. Eat this. Drink ours. Smell like us. Wear these clothes. Wear no clothes. Drive this car. Bet on that. Look like her.” I fear for my grandchildren.
I suppose the next time we could tell them the train is broken. Or we could shield their eyes, or look for another playground with less seductive surroundings. Maybe we will. But I’m not sure that’s going to work. It may not even be possible—do places like that still exist? So what’s the solution? Is there one?
I do have a strategy, and it’s as relatively simple and straightforward as the destructive message it’s designed to counter. It doesn’t call for isolation, withdrawal, or the wearing of blinders. I plan on challenging the claim. I intend to confront it and confute it. Contrary to what the world may say, there is more joy in Jesus than all fleshly pleasures combined!
My aim as a father, preacher, teacher, author, and now grandfather is to hammer home with unrelenting zeal that the joys of knowing Jesus are simply incomparable. His capacity to please knows no rival. We must preach from our pulpits and model in our lives and fill our prayers and labor and suffer and sacrifice greatly to make this truth known: in the presence of our great God and Savior there is joy that is full, not partial, half-baked, measured, or parceled out; at his right hand there are eternal pleasures, not the fleeting, transient, toxic sort that promise so much and deliver so little (Ps. 16:11).
David, king of Israel and inspired psalmist, was unapologetically relentless in his effort to drive home this truth. Surrounded by those who loved “vain words” and sought “after lies” (Ps. 4:2b), he uttered one prayer for himself and his people: “Lift up the light of your face upon us, O LORD!” (Ps. 4:6). Again, “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us” (Ps. 67:1; cf. Num. 6:24–26).
On the other hand, when “you hid your face; I was dismayed” (Ps. 30:7). Even the animals of the earth know this devastation: “When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust” (Ps. 104:29).
When the crowd clamored for satisfaction and demanded to know, “Who will show us some good?” (Ps. 4:6a), David fixed his gaze on the precious presence of Yahweh, whose glorious visage alone he longed to behold, whose life-changing power and sin-forgiving grace and covenant-keeping love alone can satisfy the human soul. The single, simple driving force in his battle with unbelief, temptation, and the magnetic allure of the world, the flesh, and the devil was this: “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound” (Ps. 4:7).
Grain and wine are good gifts of God, not to be belittled. Be grateful for them. But don’t trust them! We must never despise the blessings God bestows, whether financial, physical, or political. We must guard against believing the marketing lie that more grain and increased profits and sweet wine and your neighbor’s car and a computer with more memory can deliver more joy than Jesus can.
David envisions a time when the harvest is bountiful. Crops are abundant and the future looks good. The wine is flowing and the supply is endless. Bellies are full. Our enemies are at bay. The bank account is expanding. Our mouths savor the sweetness of the fruit of the vine. Life feels good! It seems to be working.
But there is more joy in the goodness and greatness of God. There is more joy in the promise of eternal reward than in the presence of earthly riches. Spurgeon was right: “Christ in the heart is better than corn in the barn, or wine in the vat.”7
Is it not the case that all temptation finds its strength in our refusal to believe that one simple truth? Is it not the case that all sin, in one way or another, consists of a refusal to trust God’s promise of more joy than what the world, the flesh, and the devil offer us?
David wasn’t the only Israelite to grasp this truth. Consider Moses. Faced with the almost irresistible offer of indescribable wealth, power, and prestige—what the author of Hebrews calls “the treasures of Egypt” (Heb. 11:26)—he said no. He embraced “mistreatment” (11:25) rather than the joy that comes with “the fleeting pleasures of sin” (11:25).
Why? For heaven’s sake, Moses, why? Because “he considered the reproach of Christ [to be] greater wealth [read, more joy]” than anything Egypt might offer, for “he was looking to the reward” (Heb. 11:26).
As I think about the future and the world in which my grand-children will live, I have only one hope. They have only one hope: knowing and believing the promise that in God’s presence, not in abundant grain, is “fullness of joy”; trusting and living in the assurance that in Christ alone, not in rivers of sweet wine, are “pleasures” that never end (Ps. 16:11).
5
What Markes God Smile?
Psalm 5
Give ear to my words, O LORD; consider my groaning.Give attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for to you do I pray.
—Psalm 5:1–2
Listen to Solomon’s words in Proverbs 15:8: “The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the LORD, but the prayer of the upright is acceptable to him” or “is His delight” (NASB).
Although God is spirit, if he had a face he would display one of two looks when people pray. This text suggests that God frowns in disgust when the wicked hypocritically try to manipulate him with their sacrifices. But he has a beaming, glowing smile of indescribable delight whenever his children pray.
Why? It certainly isn’t because he learns something from them of which he had been previously unaware. Rather, God smiles when we pray because the God of the Bible
is the kind of God who delights most deeply not in making demands but in meeting needs. Prayer is his delight because prayer shows the reaches of our poverty and the riches of his grace. Prayer is that wonderful transaction where the wealth of God’s glory is magnified and the wants of our soul are satisfied.8
When we pray, what do we offer God? Nothing but our need. And that is what makes him happy, because it provides him with an opportunity to demonstrate the infinite resources of the riches of his grace. God issues this invitation: “Call upon me in the day of trouble [i.e., pray to me, cry for help]; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me” (Ps. 50:15).
Let’s look at some of the characteristics of David’s prayer life as found in Psalm 5. There are ten things worthy of note.
1) He prays (vv. 1–3). I doubt if anything was as instinctive to David as prayer. Whether in turmoil or triumph, whether in pain or prosperity, the orientation of his soul was always vertical. Nothing was off-limits or too trivial. Nothing was beyond the power of God or a matter of indifference to him. When one knows God as David did, prayer will always be the first, middle, and last thing we do.
2) He prays aloud