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June 25/26, 2016
Jason Meyer | Psalms 28:1-9
To you, O LORD, I call;
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.
Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy,
when I cry to you for help,
when I lift up my hands
toward your most holy sanctuary.
Do not drag me off with the wicked,
with the workers of evil,
who speak peace with their neighbors
while evil is in their hearts.
Give to them according to their work
and according to the evil of their deeds;
give to them according to the work of their hands;
render them their due reward.
Because they do not regard the works of the LORD
or the work of his hands,
he will tear them down and build them up no more.
Blessed be the LORD!
For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield;
in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;
my heart exults,
and with my song I give thanks to him.
The LORD is the strength of his people;
he is the saving refuge of his anointed.
Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!
Be their shepherd and carry them forever.—Psalm 28
Introduction
The Orlando terror attack on June 12, 2016 was the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. History (49 people dead, 53 people injured). It was also the deadliest incident of violence against the LGBT community ever in America. How should Christians respond? I am burdened by the apathetic or even smug way many Christians have responded. Will we respond the same way other people respond? The answer is yes and no because Christian convictions can be broken up into two categories: (1) convictions we share in common with our culture (similar response), and (2) convictions that are distinctively different from our culture (different response).
Let me give you an example of some convictions we share in common with others. Recently the prime minister of Israel responded to the Orlando terrorist attack and claimed solidarity with the victims.
Regimes and terrorist organizations around the world ruthlessly persecute the LGBT community. In Syria, ISIS throws gays off rooftops. In Iran, the regime hangs gays from cranes. This week’s shooting wasn’t merely an attack on the LGBT community. It was an attack on all of us, on our common values of freedom and diversity and choice. Radical Islamist terror makes no distinction between shades of infidel. This week it was gays in Orlando. A few days before that it was Jews in Tel Aviv. Before that it was music fans in Paris; Travelers in Brussels; Yazidis in Iraq; Community workers in San Bernardino; Christians and journalists in Syria. All of us are targets.
We believe that all people are created in the image of God. ISIS, by contrast, believes that all people who aren’t just like them deserve to die. We need to stand united, resolute in the belief that all people regardless of their sexual orientation, regardless of their race, regardless of their ethnicity, all people deserve respect, deserve dignity (https://www.facebook.com/IsraeliPM/videos/1339013092780099/?pnref=story).
The Prime Minister of Israel believes all people deserve dignity. Most of our culture would immediately and instinctively affirm that conviction (even if they are inconsistent when it comes to killing babies in the womb). The Prime Minister of Israel holds that conviction (all people deserve dignity) because all people are made in the image of God. Despite the fact that many people do not believe in God, our culture still affirms that all people deserve dignity.
But our response will also look different because there are convictions we hold that are distinctively different from others embraced by our culture. These are the convictions that we must both winsomely commend to our culture and wisely defend against our culture’s assault on those beliefs.
Psalm 28 exemplifies many of the distinctively different elements of our response to terror. The main point of Psalm 28 is as follows: When confronted by terror, we find fullness of rest in God alone.
Let’s look and see together how the psalmist makes that point in the flow of the psalm. The psalm has a structure of four stanzas; each one has two verses, except the central second stanza which has 3 verses. We find fullness of rest in God alone through these four points of prayer, even in the face of terror.
To you, O LORD, I call;
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.
Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy,
when I cry to you for help,
when I lift up my hands
toward your most holy sanctuary.—Psalm 28:1–2
Let’s take note together of three important observations: (1) the personal nature of the prayer, (2) the humble nature of the prayer, (3) the tangible nature of the prayer.
Notice first that this prayer begins with the personal name of God, Yahweh. The Almighty God of the Universe came to a people and made His name known and entered into covenant relationship with them. David was anointed by Yahweh as king of this people. David makes the prayer even more personal when he calls Yahweh “my rock.” Rock is a magnificent image of unmovable strength, a fixed and unshakable reality. Rock refers to God’s “there-ness”—the safe and secure reality of this solid foundation upon which we stand.
Secondly, David’s prayer is humble. It is a humble prayer because it is a prayer for mercy and help. David knows that he doesn’t deserve this relationship with God. He has not earned or merited God’s response or rescue. A prayer for help is a humbling thing because you have to admit that you are helpless. David is not asking for a little help or a boost. God does not help those who help themselves. We pray because we can’t help ourselves and we desperately need help. Prayer is not natural to the natural man because his pride makes him think he is his own providence in that the outcome is owing to his own efforts, skill, and wisdom. People will either believe that they owe everything to God’s providence or that they are their own providence. These beliefs will create either a life of praise or pride.
David knows he can’t outwit and overpower his adversaries. He is a dead man and will become like those who go down to the pit. He lets Yahweh know what is at stake—he will become like those who go down to the pit. He does not merely pray to avoid death, but to avoid the disgrace of an impersonal pit like the rest who don’t know God.
Thirdly, notice the tangible nature of the prayer. David lifts up his hands (the posture of prayer) toward a physical place—the innermost shrine of God’s holiness (the tabernacle or temple sanctuary).
Let’s apply the personal and humble aspects of Christian prayer in distinction to much non-Christian prayer. These two categories will be useful comparison points to show that both Christians and non-Christians pray, but they pray differently. I will briefly apply the tangible nature of Christian prayer near the end of the sermon.
Let’s start with the personal and humble nature of true prayer. Non-Christian prayer is lacking in both departments. Here is what I mean. Non-Christian prayer is not personal or humble. They pray almost exclusively to get answers to prayer.
You might say, “What is wrong with that?” We make our requests known to God because we want them answered, right? The problem here with that picture of prayer is that prayer is not presented in a personal way, but in a merely mechanical way. We have a need, we make the need known, and then God should answer it.
Prayer at its core is something personal and relational, not mechanical. The real problem with viewing prayer only from the angle of answered prayer is that we have forgotten who God is and how we should approach him. Have we stopped to remind ourselves of our respective positions? He is the all-wise, all-powerful, all-glorious, infinite God who was and is and is to come. We are a vapor, limited in every way, and tainted by sin in every part of us. Does the thought of listening to God or waiting upon the Lord enter into our mind at this point? Does God exist mainly to answer our prayers—is that his function in life?
That is why the prayer life of so many is sporadic and inconsistent. It is impersonal and mechanical. Prayer is a problem solving tool—like a calculator that they only pull out when they get stuck on a math problem they can’t solve. It is not the overflow of a relationship. It takes on the entitlement feel of a rebellious child that has the nerve to never talk to their parents except when they need money or need to be bailed out of prison or some other problem. Christian prayer has the joyful intimacy of relationship; worldly prayer is the mechanical, user-controlled convenience of a vending machine or ATM.
Many do not hesitate to think that “what they think is right” must be right simply because it is what they think (we are basing everything on our wisdom—leaning on our own understanding). How often do we pray in order to discover God’s will and submit to it? Do we pray “Your will be done” or do we pray “My will be done”?
This kind of praying is certainly not humble. Non-Christians do not humble themselves before him and ask him to reveal his will to them. They come close to commanding God with their demands and request to be answered immediately and precisely. We cannot dictate to God what He should do.
Because we have put ourselves above God, we put ourselves in a position to judge God if he does not do what we ask. We are so sure in our minds as to what God should do that we are so ready to doubt him when he does not do it.
But don’t you see who God truly is? What we say to him will flow from the attitude with which we approach him. Do you believe that His ways are higher than our ways and his thoughts are higher than our thoughts? Do you really expect the eternal, almighty, all-wise God to agree with your short-sighted assessment of everything? “If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshiping an idealized version of yourself” (Tim Keller).
Do not drag me off with the wicked,
with the workers of evil,
who speak peace with their neighbors
while evil is in their hearts.
Give to them according to their work
and according to the evil of their deeds;
give to them according to the work of their hands;
render them their due reward.
Because they do not regard the works of the LORD
or the work of his hands,
he will tear them down and build them up no more.—Psalm 28:3–5
David renews his request from Psalm 26:9—“Do not sweep my soul away with sinners, nor my life with bloodthirsty men.” David’s plea is that he not be numbered with the wicked. His relationship with God is the essential, defining difference in his life. What he prizes above all else is his relationship with God. It is what distinguishes him from the wicked who have no love for God and his ways.
They pretend when it comes to peace, but work evil. Look at all the emphasis on work or acts (workers of evil, their work, the evil of their deeds, the work of their hands). The request is for the Judge of the Universe to bring the gavel down in judgment. Take account of all that they do and them bring them to account. But notice that the prayer for justice is not a self-centered prayer of vindication, but a God-centered prayer. Remember that an attack on God’s king (just like Psalm 2) was a rebellious attack on God (“they have rebelled against you”—Psalm 5:10).
There is no uncertainty in what God will do, only when God will do it. David does not have any hesitation in terms of what God will do—“he will tear them down and build them up no more.” It is not a question of what, but when.
Blessed be the LORD!
For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield;
in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;
my heart exults,
and with my song I give thanks to him.—Psalm 28:6–7
Notice how personal and internal prayer is. Prayer is what happens in the heart, not just what we do with our lips. The heart trusts in prayer and exults in the anticipation of answered prayer. We lean on him (trust), he holds us up (I am helped). We exult in him and so we give heart-felt thanks with singing. This is the opposite of religious people like the Pharisees, whom Jesus condemned as people who honor God with their lips, but their hearts are far from him.
The LORD is the strength of his people;
he is the saving refuge of his anointed.
Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!
Be their shepherd and carry them forever.—Psalm 28:8–9
David piles up the metaphors for who God is (strength, saving refuge) and what He will do (save, bless, shepherd, and carry forever). Because David is the anointed king, there is a connection between what God does for his king and what God does for his people.
Application
When sin is in our face like this, we must lament sin and the horror it causes wherever it spreads. Remember that the story of fallen humanity is a horror story. We should face this horror afresh. Feel what the old theologians called the sinfulness of sin. I am not just talking about the sin we see on the TV, but also the sin we see in the mirror. Sin is horrible in all of its forms (macro-scale of a mass shooting and the smaller scale of anger and control through terror in marriage). We take all sin seriously—especially our own sin.
In moments of terror, we must not only lament it, but we must celebrate what terrorists cannot take away. We are persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, nor things present nor things to come, neither any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else like terrorists, can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Killing us will not separate us from our Savior because our Savior already conquered death for us.
Therefore, the question becomes what type of shooting should we grieve more? Should we grieve more because of a church shooting or a shooting in a gay nightclub? We should actually grieve more the nightclub shooting because all those who died were not ready to meet Jesus. The real tragedy is when death comes upon those who aren’t ready to stand before the judgment seat of Christ because they try to cover themselves in righteous acts that are like filthy rags and are not covered in the perfect robes of righteousness that Jesus gives. Christians grieve the death of other Christians with hope; there is no hope for those who die apart from Christ so we cannot grieve with hope for them. We cannot be flippant or apathetic when looking at the true terrors of hell.
Consider the glorious calling Christians have. We do not have the terrorist calling to stew in the cauldron of hate. We do not have a calling to shrink back or cower in fear. We have the calling to abide or bask in our Savior’s love. I was talking with Pastor Bud this week and we were sharing our sense of the love of Christ for us and he shared a text that had been on his heart: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love” (John 15:9). We both commented about how surprisingly hard it is to rest there.
I have a couple of practical helps for you in this regard. First, if you struggle with believing that Jesus could love you, listen to what Martyn Lloyd-Jones told his congregation:
If you would know the love of Jesus “what it is,” give Him opportunities of telling you. He will meet you in the Scriptures, and He will tell you. Give time, give place, give opportunity. Set other things aside, and say to other people, “I cannot do what you ask me to do; I have another appointment, I know He is coming and I am waiting for Him.” Do you look for Him, are you expecting Him, do you allow Him, do you give Him opportunities to speak to you, and to let you know His love to you?—The Law, 62
I would add that abiding means that we need anchor points. You can’t read the Bible all day, but we need moments throughout the day that are defining moments for the rest of the day. I think that is why people like Daniel in the Bible prayed three times a day. I am amazed how many hours can go by without even having God on my radar, let alone basking in his love. We need to punctuate our day at multiple points with these defining moments in which we are firmly reminded of our identity in Christ as dearly loved children of God.
Just like a day needs anchor points for abiding in his love, a week also needs an anchor point. Corporate worship is that anchor point where we treasure Christ together and abide in his love together.
We should also savor the surpassing power of the grace of the gospel. We should pray for the gospel to spread in these days of terror. These prayers are not pipe dream prayers because we know the power of the gospel. Exhibit A is that Christ could take a terrorist and murderer like Saul and through the life-changing, future-altering mercy of the cross make him a missionary like Paul. A husband in the grip of unrepentant anger can find mercy at the cross. Someone in sexual rebellion can find mercy and forgiveness at the cross. God has mercy and saves them—he does not provide for the fulfillment of those sexual desires (marriage for the heterosexual or change of desire for the homosexual).
Let me speak clearly to those who struggle with same sex attraction and are fighting it. Do not listen to those who think since you have similar struggles to the LGBT community that you belong in that community and not in the church. Your struggles do not define you, your Savior does. You belong in this church—in this family. We love you and want you to abide with us in the deep, deep love of Jesus.
We should have fresh joy in knowing that we are not ultimately responsible for meting out perfect judgment in all its forms. We can’t. We must leave room for God’s vengeance. We do that daily mainly by prayer. We do what we can to address injustice where we see it. But justice is beyond our limited reach. We take our longings for justice and offer them up to God. Therefore, we can remain free from a bitter, grumbling, grudge-holding heart. The cross and hell are the two places where justice is perfectly poured out—either upon us (hell) or upon a substitute (Christ).
And on this side of the cross, we pray for justice, but our prayers are also always tinged with mercy. We should be suspicious of ourselves when we pray for justice because our sin spoils everything so that we are mixed—our motives, our hearts. Our prayers for justice can become self-centered instead of God-centered. Someone may say, “Doesn’t the perfect justice of eternal torment glorify God?” Shouldn’t the saints delight in a perfect display of God’s justice? We see that the saints will delight in God’s full display of justice in the age to come (Revelation 19). The apostle Paul in Philippians spoke of the enemies of the cross with tears (Philippians 3:18–19). He said that he had unceasing anguish for his Jewish countrymen who were cut off from Christ (Romans 9:1–2). I agree with the person who looked at the ministry of D.L. Moody and George Whitefield in saying that they were truly qualified to talk about hell because they could not do it except with tears.
How do we put those two texts together (Revelation 19 and Philippians 3:18)? My response is that we have the intellectual capacity for it now, but not the emotional capacity for it like we will when we are made perfect.
Some of you wonder if you have enough eager longing for the return of Jesus. You need to be able to translate your desires into how they will ultimately be answered. Are you grieved by all that is broken and twisted and painful about this world? Do you look at certain areas of your life or the broader world and long for those areas to be made right? Those longings will only be fulfilled when Jesus comes again. He will make all things new. No more tears and no more terror for his people. We pray, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus!”
Sermon Discussion Questions
Main Point: When confronted by terror, we find fullness of rest in God alone.
Outline
The Psalm has a structure of four stanzas. We find fullness of rest in God alone through these four points of prayer:
Discussion Questions
Application Questions
Prayer Focus
Pray for a grace to abide in the love of Jesus and to eagerly await his return when all will be made right.