Psalm 12 - A Prayer in the Midst of Lies
You may have noticed that today's psalm, the psalm from last week's sermon, and, small spoiler, next week's psalm as well, all deal with situations that are rather sad, even depressing. So allow me to talk to you about a sad subject too: we are about to enter an election season. In fact, we are already in it.
In France, we are getting ready for 2027. In the United States, there will be the midterm elections, and an American election ends up affecting the whole world, even us here. And in a few months there will be elections in Brazil as well, less important and less far-reaching, but since I am Brazilian, I mention them anyway.
And this is the classic season in which we find ourselves in the middle of a tsunami of lies, of twisted truths, of speeches full of bad faith, and so on. Now, yes, perhaps I am painting too dark a picture. It is a good thing that we live in places where people have a voice through elections, and even if it is imperfect, it matters. But it is one occasion among many where we see how badly we lack the virtue of loving the truth. We would be so much better off with more of it.
A world saturated with lies (vv. 1-4)
Lying does damage, in an election season and in any other circumstance. With false words, people without scruples manipulate others, sin dresses itself up as justice, and society as a whole suffers. And that is the reason behind the lament of today's psalm: it is a collective lament, "save us!" Because loyal, truthful people are missing.
On the contrary, the psalm says, people lie to one another. Even when they pay each other compliments, pleasant things, these are flattering words with a double intention. Could we not recognise our own time, our own situation, in this psalm? I am not criticising our age by saying "things were better before," because ever since sin entered the world, lying has been sown everywhere. What I mean is that this lament is still current: we lack loyal, truthful people who do not lie, and we feel that lack, and that lack does damage.
Politicians lie to the people about their intentions; they lie to each other about their alliances; it is not rare for people to lie on their tax returns; companies conceal the fact that they are poisoning the soil and the water; in marriages, lying wreaks havoc, and there are even apps designed so that people can arrange adulterous encounters. And then we lie to one another on social media, displaying a life that is not real, edited, shaped with the intention of producing an impression that is not true.
(I am not saying that social media is intrinsically evil, and I am not saying that it is not. But we can see in this psalm and elsewhere in the Bible that lying is not only passing on false information, but also passing on true information with a bad intention, with the intention of harming or of producing a false idea.)
Lying, the catalyst of sin
Lying is not simply one sin among others; it is the catalyst of sin. We see in the Bible that humanity's first sin was provoked by a lie from the serpent. Then the first murder begins with a lie; you can read it in Genesis. But look at our own history: the worst genocides, the worst abuses, the worst tyrants were all made possible by the power of human speech. Lies, manipulation, threats. And even today, how many atrocities have stayed buried in silence because someone said: "What are you going to do? If you say anything, it will be your word against mine, and nobody will believe you."
And how many times, I ask you to look back over your own life, have we been deeply wounded by a lie aimed at us, by a broken loyalty, or by a "truth" turned into a weapon, spoken in order to bring us down? And we have to recognise that we are part of the problem: how many times have we used our words not to bless, but to wound, to manipulate, to lie.
As we grow up, we come to realise that in our tongue, in our power of speech, we carry a loaded gun, ready to fire. And that we can very easily do intense harm to people if we use it. And what a weight it is to know that this gun exists, that it is always there, loaded, and that we must not use it. And what regret every time that, in an argument, we use it against someone who ought to be the object of our love: a friend, a spouse, a brother, a colleague.
But we look around us, we look at the powerful, and we see that the people with the fewest scruples about using this word-weapon are the ones who climb the ladder of power, and we can begin to wonder whether that is not simply how the world works.
All right, I did say this description was going to be fairly depressing. But is it false? This is the reason behind the collective cry of this psalm: "Save us, LORD! Cut short these lying lips!"
God rises and keeps us
In this psalm we see God's answer, and then a return to daily reality. God answers in verse 5: "Because the poor are oppressed and the needy groan, now I will arise, says the LORD; I will bring salvation to those who long for it." You see, God says that he intervenes not only because truth is being trampled on, but because people are being oppressed by lying and falsehood. God cares about truth, yes, but we can see throughout the Bible that he has a particular concern for those who are oppressed and have no one to help them. And he declares that he acts to place in his salvation the one who seeks it.
So let us pay attention to God's answer in this psalm: even though we cry out to God to cut short those who spread lies, that is not exactly what he says he will do. He says that he rises, that he acts to place in his salvation, in his safe place, the one who asks him for it. It may look like a detail, but the rest of the psalm shows that this is indeed the right reading: for now, God is not going to stop lying altogether; he is going to protect from lying those who call on him.
Verses 6, 7 and 8 are the psalm's response to God's proclamation. With confidence, they declare, in verse 7: "You, LORD, will keep them; you will protect them from this generation for ever." In the Bible Semeur, and in the Septuagint, the ancient Greek translation, we read: "You, LORD, keep us and will always protect us from these people."
And the last verse shows that the psalmist knows the world's situation does not change straight away: "The wicked prowl on every side when what is vile is honoured among men." This situation persists: it is what the psalmist sees around him, it is the context the people still see when they finish singing this psalm, it is the situation we see around us today. You see: in verse 7 he says that God will keep us; in verse 8, the wicked prowl everywhere, and baseness reigns among men.
The Nouvelle Français courant translation brings out this contrast with an "even if": You, Lord, will keep the oppressed, you will always preserve us from these evil people, even if the wicked prowl all around, even if corruption overtakes humanity.
The reason for the psalmist's confidence lies in verse 6: the words of the LORD are not impure like ours, but pure, pure like silver passed seven times through the fire to be refined. Nothing is left in it that is not silver, nothing is left that is not pure. This is the complete opposite of what we see around us: God does not use his word to deceive; he does not speak with a double heart, with a hidden intention that contradicts the one he shows. His word is true, pure and powerful, and he does not lack the power to accomplish what he says.
How does God keep his promise?
So a legitimate question we might ask is this: in what way does God protect from lies those who call on him? We look around us, we look at the news, and we see that there are still victims of the practice of lying: people who have been manipulated, who are unjustly condemned, who are the targets of hate speech, and so on.
We can see in the Bible at least three ways in which God fulfils this promise: (1) God preserves the truth in spite of the lie. (2) God preserves those who call on him by saving them from the lie through salvation in Jesus Christ. (3) God will destroy every lie in the new creation.
1. God does not let the truth die
Yes, one of the ways God preserves us is that, in his grace, he does not allow the truth to disappear completely. Proverbs 12:19 says: "Truthful lips endure for ever, but a lying tongue lasts only a moment." And a very common saying goes: "a lie has short legs; it never gets far." Now, a lie always lasts longer than it deserved to. But at some point it goes away, and the truth remains.
Think of the truth of the gospel: so often persecuted, so often distorted, so often people have tried to silence it or to alter it. And yet it is still here. And many of its opponents and alternatives are not.
Think too of that truth which God has placed in the human conscience and in Scripture: that all human beings were created equal, and that there is no inferior or impure race among us. So many times this truth has been questioned, distorted, hidden; and yet, despite the opposition that still exists, it is still here, and God in his grace does not let it be entirely forgotten or erased.
Think of marriage, which today is sometimes presented as an outdated, oppressive institution that ought to be reformed and reshaped, or even abolished. And in spite of the opposition, this truth will remain and will be kept by God: that marriage exists for the good of human beings, in a commitment of full faithfulness between a man and a woman. And it will outlast the lies that have attacked it in the past and that oppose it today.
2. God saves us in Jesus and gives us the Spirit of truth
But God also preserves us from the lie by saving us in Jesus. Jesus, who took upon himself the sins of all those who are in him, including lying, endured in his sufferings the false accusations of those who put him to death. He knows very well, then, the crushing world described by Psalm 12. In the middle of his trial, Jesus tells Pilate that he has "come into the world to bear witness to the truth" (John 18). And Pilate answers cynically: "What is truth?"
Jesus was condemned and put to death in a balance of power where the lying words of the powerful of his day seemed to have the upper hand. And yet all of this was done so that God's words through his prophets might be fulfilled, and so that, raised on the third day, he might bring in all those who, by his grace, call on him for salvation. He saves us and also gives us his Spirit of truth, his Holy Spirit, who convicts us of sin and equips us to speak the truth to one another, as Paul says in Ephesians 4:
You were taught to put off the old self, which belongs to your former way of life and is being destroyed by its deceitful desires; to be renewed by the Spirit in your minds; and to put on the new self, created after God in the righteousness and holiness that truth produces. Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth to his neighbour, for we are members one of another.
So, by his Holy Spirit, God cuts short our lying tongues and our deceitful desires, and renews our minds. We are thus equipped, among those who are in Christ, to rid ourselves of the lie.
And so we do not really have the right to take a defeatist stance towards lying: neither towards the lie that surrounds us, nor towards the lie that persists in our words and our thoughts. Let us not be deaf, then, to the Spirit of truth when we ask God to protect us from lies, for he also wants to protect us from the lies that remain in our own hearts. That is why, in our time of confession at every service on Sunday, we ask God to forgive the sins we commit with our words as well.
And if we have twisted truths in order to manipulate, in order to wound; if we have used our lips, our skill in argument, to get the better of someone unjustly, then let us listen today to the word of God, which pronounces judgement on all proud and false speech, and let us ask forgiveness with real repentance, listening to the Spirit of God rather than to the inner monologues we can produce to justify ourselves.
And perhaps it is worth saying this plainly: if you are the one who has been lied about, the one who has been crushed by someone else's words, this psalm is your prayer. God does not tell you that the lying will stop. He tells you that, if you call on him, he rises and puts you in a safe place. That he cares, already today, about your cry.
3. God will destroy every lie
And finally, we have in Scripture the promise that at the return of Jesus, in the new creation, there will be no lie. In Revelation 22 we read, concerning the new creation: "Outside are the vile, those who practise magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, those who worship idols, and everyone who loves and practises falsehood."
Everyone who loves and practises falsehood: this is not merely one item on the list of what does not enter the new creation; it is a summary of all the categories. To love the lie, to prefer it to the truth, and to practise it: here is the summary of everything that has no place in the world to come.
This is a hope for us; it is a promise we must keep in mind, especially when we are exasperated by the world we live in. It is also a call to live already in the practice of truth, because truth is what will last, what God equips us for, what has its place in all eternity.
Psalm 13 — God, can you hear me?
Who thinks that life with Jesus is easy?
If we thought that becoming a Christian would solve all our problems... Well, we were wrong.
Being a Christian doesn't spare us from illness and the difficulties of this world. If it did, everyone would know about it—pharmacies would be selling Bibles instead of medicine. Being a Christian actually adds to our worries. We now see our sinful nature much more clearly, and we struggle daily to put to death what displeases God. We want to change our attitudes, which sometimes hurt others. But we often see little results and feel discouraged. Jesus asks us to take up our cross and follow Him. So we walk against the tide, in a world that opposes God and those who belong to Him.
Fortunately for us, we have a great God to whom we can entrust all our sufferings and struggles. No matter what happens to me, I know I can talk to Him about it, and He will deliver me from it.
But the reality is that we've all gone through difficult times; perhaps you're even going through a period of intense suffering right now. A job search that drags on, the search for a husband or wife, recovering from an illness that seems incurable, waiting for a child who never comes. So we pray to God, repeating the same prayer over and over, day after day for the same thing, month after month, or even for years, without receiving an answer. To the point where we ask ourselves: God, can you hear me?
And this Psalm of David today is an excellent example of lamentation, prayer, and gratitude when we're going through difficult times and have no answer.
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1. Patient in suffering (v. 2–3)
In this Psalm, we see that David is suffering, but we don't know exactly what he's going through. The word "enemy," which appears several times, might lead us to conclude that there are literally enemies who are out to kill him. In the book of 1 Samuel, we are told that David was pursued by Saul, and in the book of 2 Samuel, that he was pursued by his son Absalom. But since the Psalms are poems, this could be metaphorical, representing the illness he suffered from toward the end of his life, or the anguish he felt over his own sin.
Suffering should not come as a surprise to us. By disobeying God, humanity brought sin into the world, and the entire creation suffers the consequences: death, a broken relationship with God, and a deceitful heart that affects our relationships and our daily lives.
**Genesis 3:17–19** — "Then God said to the man, 'Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, "You shall not eat from it," the ground is cursed because of you. In pain you will eat from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you will eat your bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you will return."
As Christians, we are not spared from the consequences of sin. As long as we are on this earth, we continue to live with hearts stained by sin in a broken world.
Our hope is that, despite these sufferings, we have a God who watches over us and cares for us. I read in **John 15:7**:
> "If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you."
But sometimes God takes longer than we would like to answer our prayers.
And that is the case here with David, with the repetition of "How long?"
> "How long, O Lord, will you keep forgetting me? How long will you hide your face from me? How long will I have anxiety in my soul and sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy attack me?"
We don't know how long David has been waiting for answers, but this repetition emphasizes his impatience. "Lord, my enemies are out to kill me. I need you now—why are you taking so long to answer?"
And unfortunately, I feel like we're becoming more and more impatient. I work in web design, and human impatience is a central issue in the websites and apps we design. We know that if a page takes too long to load, the user is likely to leave, and we've lost a potential customer. That's why you see loading bars or flashing elements on the page before it fully loads. It's a way of saying, "It's coming, it's coming—don't leave; just wait a few more seconds." We lead lives at 100 miles an hour and no longer have time to wait. And as Christians, we find ourselves doing the same thing with God. How much longer will I wait for this job I so desperately need? How much longer will I struggle with this sin that's ruining my life?
And it is this impatience that leads David to say, "How long, O Lord, will you keep forgetting me? How long will you hide your face from me?" This waiting makes us feel abandoned by God. And I do mean "feel" abandoned. It is a feeling we have, but it is not reality. God does not abandon us. I read from **Isaiah 49:14–16**:
> "Zion said (here, Zion refers to the people of Israel), 'The Lord has forsaken me; the Lord has forgotten me!' Can a woman forget the baby at her breast? Does she not have compassion on the son of her womb? Even if she did forget him, I will never forget you. See! I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me."
I don't know if you've ever done this—written something on your hand to make sure you don't forget. We are engraved on God's hands; we are constantly under His watchful eye. We are His children, and He loves us with a love even stronger than a mother's love for her newborn. And like a good parent, He knows better than we do what we need and when we need it.
Our emotions lead us to believe that in times of trial and suffering, when there are no answers, God has forgotten us. But the reality is quite different: "I will never forget you." Having feelings is a good thing; it's normal to feel pain, joy, sadness, and doubt—especially when we're going through difficult times. As someone said in my small group this week, "It's okay to cry." We just need to be careful that our feelings don't override our reason and lead us to believe false things. Here's a first lesson for us this morning. Like David, we should come to God and express our feelings. We should always be honest and transparent with God, sharing our sorrows and questions with Him; He is the one best able to understand us—He is our Creator, after all.
So if God hasn't forgotten us, why doesn't He help us when we're suffering? That's a question that's hard to answer precisely. For God's plans are divine and not fully revealed to us.
But here is some encouragement found in **Romans 8:28–30**:
> "And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined, he also called; those whom he called, he also justified; and those whom he justified, he also glorified."
God does not let us suffer in vain. We are His children. His entire plan works for the good of those who love God. And by His power, He uses the difficulties of the present moment to shape our souls and make them conform to the image of Christ for the days to come.
There will be a time of judgment, but through His grace—as a testimony of His love—He grants everyone time to repent. I read in **2 Peter 3:9**:
> "The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward us, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance."
God is patient with us; let us be patient with Him.
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2. Persevering in prayer (v. 4–5)
So how do I wait it out? It's all well and good to know that this trial is meant to shape my soul, but I'm in pain. Day after day, I'm wearing myself out. And little by little, with no answers, I'm losing hope.
But here is David's attitude in the face of despair—the turning point of this Psalm and perhaps the main lesson for us this morning: perseverance in prayer. I'll read from verse 4:
> "Look upon me and answer me, O Lord my God! Give light to my eyes, lest I fall into the sleep of death! For my enemy might say, 'I have overcome him,' and my foes might rejoice when they see me shaken."
In the earlier verses, David thought God had forgotten him. But David does not trust his own feelings. He knows that God has not forgotten him and that his only hope is in Him. So he cries out even louder and implores His help. We see this in the repetition of his plea: "Look, answer me, O Lord, my God!" Brothers and sisters, here is a magnificent example of faith. Believing when life is going our way is easy. But believing when there is no reason to do so—that is what faith is. I read in **Hebrews 11:1**:
> "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."
Faith is a deep conviction that God will fulfill what He has promised, and it is believing in the reality of what God has revealed, even if our eyes cannot yet see it.
David prays for this. "Give light to my eyes, so that I may not fall asleep the sleep of death!" David acknowledges that his view of the situation is clouded by his emotions. He has the humility to admit that, as a mere human being, he cannot understand why things are this way. His most heartfelt prayer, then, is to ask God to give light to his eyes. Through this prayer, he asks for insight, for clarity; he asks for wisdom so that he may see as God sees. It is only through God and His Holy Spirit that we can understand and accept this trial. Only then can we recognize that the absence of an answer does not mean God has abandoned us. And only then can we be guided and find the right way to act during these difficult times.
Let's emphasize the importance of his plea: "Lest I fall asleep the sleep of death!" Even though David is under attack by enemies and fears for his life, I believe he is referring here to a spiritual sleep. As a Christian, what is worse than death is spiritual death. Despite the difficulties David is facing, he knows that the worst thing that could happen to him would be to be without hope, without a relationship with God. If we are not enlightened by God, we are in darkness. Just as nature needs the sun, we need God's light. So when suffering persists and answers are slow in coming, let us pray to God not to let us sink into despair but to shine His light upon us so that we may keep hope in His promises.
David's attitude reminds me of children when they fall. Their knee is scraped, the wound is there, it's bleeding, it hurts—it must be serious—so they panic, and the tears and cries follow. Despite the pain, they run to their parents, who will come to their rescue. A big hug, a few reassuring words, and off they go running again. The knee injury is still there, but their parent's reassuring words give them a new perspective and show them that the injury isn't so bad after all. I admit that I especially love this feeling with God. When my heart is heavy, I pray; I entrust myself to Him. I hand over to Him whatever is weighing me down. And very often, after a sincere prayer, my burden is still there—but now it feels light. This lightness will only be temporary; my anxious nature will come back to haunt me. So it's up to me to persevere in prayer to experience it again.
By giving these examples, I in no way mean to downplay the suffering you may be experiencing. I don't know what you may have gone through or what hardships you're currently facing. Perhaps something very difficult—far more serious than a minor knee injury. Something that has been going on for far too long. It's normal for you to be in pain. **Romans 8:22**:
> "We know that until now the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains."
And to go from tears to cries of joy, like David did, is simply impossible. Impossible on our own. Impossible without God's help. And that is precisely why we pray.
But perhaps you don't know Christ. And perhaps you, too, are going through difficult times. Know that what He has done for us, He has also done for you. As we saw earlier, "He is patient with us, not wanting anyone to perish but everyone to come to repentance." Please, don't wait. Your problems won't miraculously disappear. But Jesus is waiting for you with open arms to comfort you. If you have doubts, ask Jesus to enlighten you, to open your eyes, so that you may be convinced and recognize that He is the way that leads to life.
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3. Joyful in hope (v. 6)
And in verse 6, what a radical change! It's as if David's prayer were magical. The answer comes instantly. His outlook is transformed.
> "I trust in your goodness; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing praises to the Lord, for he has done me good."
His gaze is no longer focused on himself, on his feet, and on his present sufferings. Instead, he looks up to heaven, toward God and the promises to come. His joy lies in the assurance of salvation that no one can take away from him. Paul says in **Romans 8:18**:
> "I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."
In difficult times, let us remember that we have God's favor. Through Jesus Christ, His Son—who bore the righteous wrath we deserved, died on the cross, and rose again—our sins are forgiven. Our lives are no longer without hope. Our sufferings are only temporary. Creation will be restored, evil eradicated—no more suffering, no more pain. And in that kingdom where God reigns supreme, a place is reserved for us, and eternal life awaits us. This is not easy, for we do not yet see it. But we can look forward to the certainty of what we hope for and rejoice in it.
It reminds me of when I was little and my parents would tell me we were going to the amusement park. Of course, we had to wait for school break to go. I must have been in elementary or middle school, but at that age, waiting for the next school break feels like forever. So every night I'd already imagine myself there, the rides I'd get to go on, and in what order so I could go on as many as possible. And I'd feel a certain joy in my heart even though we weren't even there yet.
Today, I think they call that "the hype"—when something is cool and everyone wants it. Friends, in Jesus we have eternal life, and no one can take it away from us. Let's keep our hearts focused on the excitement of the promises to come.
David, who was lamenting just two verses earlier, is now singing in praise of the Lord. Despite his current difficulties, David remembers that things haven't always been this way; he looks back and recalls how God has cared for him.
Let's look back at where we were: alone, facing ourselves; slaves to sin; unable to save ourselves. In His mercy, God came to seek us out, lift us up, and save us. Do you remember the moment you said "Yes" to Christ? That indescribable joy that burned within you and the sense of freedom you experienced.
In times of trial, let's remember that there haven't been only bad days. We said at the beginning that the Christian life isn't necessarily easier. But in some ways, it is. Looking back, we see that Jesus has changed our hearts and is making us better people. Life's worries no longer carry the same weight. We are no longer devastated by difficulties. And all the times we've received kind encouragement from a brother or sister. When we've experienced the intense joy of helping others. And even in the simplest of things. Let's remember that God renews His kindness toward us every day. It is He who gives us breath. It is He who allows us to enjoy a sunny day.
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Conclusion
This Psalm reminds me of what we sometimes experience on Sundays when we come to church—perhaps even today. We come with heavy hearts, weighed down by the burdens of the week, weary, acknowledging that we can do nothing in our own strength and that our only hope is Jesus. So we pray, we praise, and we remember the truths of the present and those to come. As the service ends, we feel lighter—filled with the peace and joy that God gives to those who come to Him. Let's not wait until Sunday to experience this.
Let's be patient in our affliction. No matter what we're going through, no matter what our struggles are. No matter the time of day or the day of the week. Let's come and weep before God. Let's not be ashamed to cry out to Him about our sorrows and doubts. God is never too busy to listen to us.
As we wait for His answer, let us persevere in prayer. Let us ask God to shed His light on our eyes, to help us see as He sees, so that we may stand firm in the face of trials. So that we may recognize that, even in the absence of an answer, God has not forsaken us.
With the help of His Holy Spirit, let us remember the joys of the past and the promises to come. Let us remember how He has led us to Himself, the blessings He showers upon us every day, and the assurance that one day we will be with God, freed from all suffering for eternity.
Psalm 23: “I Shall Not Want”
Today we arrive at one of the most well-known psalms in all the Bible, the 23rd psalm, and while the comfort of this psalm is undeniable, in order to give us comfort it actually has to attack our idea of our own self-sufficiency and power. In this psalm, although others were chanting praise songs about his might and power, King David depicts himself as small and weak and desperately in need of God for everything he enjoys, all the comfort he finds.
This psalm is extremely personal—it’s not us or we, but me and my—the Lord is my Shepherd. David rejoices in all he has in God : in six things in particular. So we’re going to talk about those six things one after another, and then there are a few questions we’ll need to answer. But let me say beforehand that since this psalm is so well known by most of us, it would be very easy to say, “Yeah, I know all this,” and listen passively. The problem is that even if we know that these things are true for us, functionally, we live as if we didn’t: we read this psalm and give it a hearty “Amen!”, all the while never experiencing the fullness of the blessings it describes. Brothers and sisters, it is not enough to know what the Bible says if we don’t live it. So my goal today is not to give you new information about this psalm, but to encourages all of us to live it; and I pray the Holy Spirit will help us.
1) Provision (v. 1)
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verses 1 through 4, David compares his relationship with God to that of a sheep with a shepherd. This image of a shepherd caring for his sheep is an image that would have spoken immediately and clearly to the agrarian culture of Israel at the time of David. David himself was a shepherd, and so understood both the needs of sheep and the care of a shepherd. But now he’s king—he’s come to the highest point of power in the land, and he is a mighty warrior. And yet he says that the Lord is his shepherd, which of course implies that he is a sheep—not exactly a flattering image. But, says Derek Kidner, “In the word shepherd, David uses the most comprehensive and intimate metaphor yet encountered in the Psalms, preferring usually the more distant ‘king’ or ‘deliverer’, or the impersonal ‘rock’, ‘shield’, etc.; whereas the shepherd lives with his flock and is everything to it: guide, physician and protector.”
In our day and culture, it may be easier for us to grasp this idea if we use a different image. Think of a father or mother with their newborn baby. The care of which David speaks here is very similar to the care a parent will show to their own child. A newborn baby depends on his parents for everything; he is entirely helpless, dependent on someone else to keep him alive and well. And his parents provide for every need he has. They care for him. They watch over him. They give him everything he needs. If the Lord is our shepherd, we lack for nothing. We may not have everything we want, but we will have everything we need.
John Piper gives this illustration. Imagine you’re a parent, and your child asks you for a cookie. So you go to get your child a cookie, and find that the package was left open, and all the cookies are now stale and moldy. So you turn to your child and say, “I can’t give you a cookie; it’ll make you sick. Here’s an apple instead.” Now, the child will undoubtedly complain; he might even protest and say that you don’t love him. But your depriving him his cookie is actually the most loving thing you could do for him—you can’t give him what he wants, because what he wants isn’t good for him. Piper said it this way: “God always gives us what we ask him in prayer; or, he gives us something better.”
Whatever our situation, wherever we find ourselves, we can rest assured that we have absolutely everything we need—we want for nothing. Charles Spurgeon said, “Old age with its feebleness will not bring me any lack, and even death with its gloom will not find me destitute. I have all things and abound; not because I have a good store of money in the bank, not because I have skill and wit with which to win my bread, but because The Lord is my Shepherd.”
2) Peace (v. 2)
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. The Lord, the shepherd, places his people in absolute and perfect peace. When Jack was a baby, we were nervous parents, mostly because we were sleep-deprived. We would do anything to create an environment of calm and tranquility: we made every effort to make Jack’s room as calm and peaceful as possible, and if he ever fell asleep we moved like those guys in wars they send in to diffuse bombs, making every effort not to move a single muscle, so as not to disturb his sleep.
God isn’t like that—he’s not a nervous God—but David is expressing this same kind of peace here. God gives us his Word, and the promises we find there; and when we lean on those promises and remember the things that God tells us about himself, we remember that we need worry about nothing. God is never disturbed, never worried, never flustered; and those who rest in him can rest in his own lack of fear. His Word assures us of our peace, and the knowledge of his presence refreshes us.
3) Restoration and Righteousness (v. 3)
3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. When he says “paths of righteousness,” he’s talking about what life looks like for the child of God. When we are made his, he doesn’t just save us, but he leads us, and leads us in a certain way: he restores our souls to be able to follow him, and he leads us in paths of righteousness. The longer the Shepherd leads us, the more we look like him. And remember the context: we look like Christ and learn to obey him in green pastures, beside still waters. These “paths of righteousness” are not a burden, they are not a chore—sanctification (the process of being made more like Christ) is one of the sweetest gifts of salvation.
How often do we look at what God calls us to do and think about how much we will lose if we become more like Christ? How seldom do we think about all we gain? Men, something strange happens when you become a father, particularly if you have a son. You start to look at yourself the way you imagine your son will look at you in ten or fifteen years. You want to be the kind of man your son can look up to and imitate. Our Father, our Shepherd, is the perfect Father, and he leads us to imitate his Son. He gives us his Spirit to restore us, that we can become more and more like him. It is a beautiful thing to resemble Christ; it is a wonderful thing to see our Father’s righteousness reflected in us.
But this reflection of God’s righteousness doesn’t happen so that we may draw attention to ourselves, that we may say to others, “Look how righteous I’ve become!” No—he leads us in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Our ways are his ways, not our own. The righteousness that we cultivate in ourselves, the salvation we work out with fear and trembling, is his righteousness: it is for the glory of his name that we imitate him. Whatever progress we make draws our eyes and others’ to his perfect righteousness. What God does in us, he does for his glory, and it is our delight and pleasure and peace to glorify God through our lives.
4) No fear (v. 4)
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me… This verse is incredibly important. Up until now we could imagine that the Christian under the Shepherd’s care has absolute immunity from any danger or harm or worry—and this is exactly what a lot of preachers say today: anyone who has faith in Christ, if that faith is strong enough, will see their problems disappear. And this verse directly contradicts that: it does not say, “He leads in paths of righteousness, so I will not walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” It says, EVEN THOUGH I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. In other words, we will walk through this dark valley (“the valley of the shadow of death” can also be translated “the darkest valley”).
So what kind of protection is he talking about here? Clearly he’s not talking about protection from suffering or pain: David himself suffered great loss in his life, even when he was perfectly obedient to the Lord. And our experience tells us this is what life is like. When babies are teething, it’s hard to watch. They say that the pain babies go through while teething would be unbearable for an adult. And it’s difficult for a parent to watch their baby in that much pain for that long. But there’s not a parent on earth who would choose to take that process away from their children, because we want them to eat, and not spend the rest of their lives gumming their food to death. God does not protect us from all pain because he loves us. But even in the pain, he is still our Father; he is still our Shepherd. He is still protecting us. He is still with us—not just ahead of us, leading us, he is with us, next to us—as Kidner says, “escorting us.” We need not fear because we know that no matter how it seems, he won’t let anything come to us that is not for our greatest good and his greatest glory. We will walk through the dark valley, but we have no need to fear. He is with us.
We will be faced with shadows. But the confidence of the psalmist lies in this simple truth: shadows can’t do any ultimate, real damage to anyone. You can see shadows, they can surround you; but they can’t destroy you. God’s presence isn’t going to keep us from going through the valley; it will free us from the fear of the valley. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will FEAR no evil. As the psalmist said in Psalm 91.9-10, 9 Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—the Most High, who is my refuge—10 no evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent. In the hands of the Good Shepherd, whatever occurs will not be evil against you, but good—perhaps incomprehensible good, but good nonetheless. And the basis of that confidence is given in the second half of verse 4.
…your rod and your staff, they comfort me. The rod was a cudgel worn at the belt, and the staff was a walking stick: the rod was used to defend the sheep from wild animals, and the staff was used for control, to round up the flock and guide them where they needed to go. Just this week I saw a news report of a family whose three-year-old boy was run over by a car driven by a friend from their church. Their grief is immense; the grief of that young driver is immense. So what do they know about God in that moment? They were able to look into the camera and say with complete confidence, “Our comfort is in knowing that God is a good God who ordained the number of days our son’s life. God has a plan, and we trust him, and we know we will see our son again.” They did not come out of this unscathed; they are hurting. But ultimately, they know are in the shepherd’s care. If you trust that what David says here is true, you know that God is standing next to you, fending off anything that can do you any ultimate harm, and guiding you where you need to go. Even death is not an ultimately fearful thing for the person who knows they belong to God, because that person knows that even in death, God is still with him, God still sets his affections on him, and God will not let him go. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Now, as Derek Kidner says, “It is one thing to survive a threat, as in verse 4; quite another to turn it into a triumph.” This is exactly what happens in verse 5. David turns from the image of a shepherd with his sheep to that of a host setting a luxurious table for his guests.
5) Abundance (v. 5)
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Now, this is an image of a feast, we understand a little better. But we can see that in this case, God goes much further than a mere feast. At the time of David, inviting someone to eat at one’s home was an extremely intimate act. Eating and drinking in someone’s home established a bond between the two people, a bond of loyalty which usually ended with a covenant between them. Do you remember the Last Supper that Jesus had with his disciples, when he said, This cup is the new covenant in my blood (1 Corinthians 11.25)? That’s the image he’s presenting. Being invited to God’s table is an incredibly intimate exchange in which he serves us, and in which we are bound to him by the love he shows us: he covers us with his precious grace and gives us not only what we need, but much more: our cup overflows. There are no half-measures with God. What he gives us, he gives us abundantly.
6) Security (v. 6)
And with that, the psalmist concludes, 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Verse 6 is a summary of everything that’s come before. Our salvation is so assured that we don’t need to pursue God’s goodness and mercy; they follow us. We have the promise that no matter what happens, no matter how frequently or deeply we live in the valley, every minute of our lives is goodness and mercy, and that will continue forever. We are secure in God’s goodness toward us, forever: he is our gracious host who will never stop pouring grace after grace on his children. We are secure in God’s mercy toward us, forever: no matter how undeserving we are of God’s grace, no matter how many times we need to run to his throne to receive forgiveness for sins, we’ll find that his mercy has actually preceded us there. We are secure in God’s adoption of us, forever: we will live in his house forever, not as guests in a hotel or even guests invited by a host, but as the dearly loved children of a good Father.
And we are secure in all of these things because of the gracious life, death and resurrection of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. The provision he offers in v. 1 destroys our worry; the peace he gives in v. 2 kills our restlessness; the strength and righteousness he proposes in v. 3 fight our weakness and sin; the courage he gives us in v. 4 abolishes our fear; and the abundance of his grace in v. 5-6 puts our lukewarmness to death. In him we truly and eternally have all we will ever need.
7) Questions and Answers
As I was preparing this message and thinking about the monumental impact of this psalm on not only our own lives, but on the tone and perspective of the whole Bible, there are two questions that occurred to me—two questions that some of us may be asking. Because as we look at this psalm, it may strike us as a little too good…almost too good to be true. It seems that way, firstly, because the world around us doesn’t seem good enough to accommodate this kind of language; and secondly because even as Christians, we haven’t always had this kind of experience. So here are two questions some of us may be asking.
Firstly, what comfort can we take in the assurances that God is this good to us, while there is still suffering in so much of the world? It’s easy to talk about God’s perfect goodness and mercy and security when we’re living in Paris, which (recent events notwithstanding) is still relatively safe and definitely comfortable. How can we, in good conscience, rest in the comfort of this psalm when we see so much suffering and tragedy all around the world? Now this compassion and discomfort we feel when we think about the suffering in the world is a good thing. We don’t want to swing to the extreme of pretending those things aren’t happening. But we need to be careful not to swing to the other extreme. Were we not to take this comfort, there would be no comfort: the world would either be the depraved stage of a masochistic deity’s cruel pleasures, or nothing but chaos in which no hope for comfort is possible. Our God is a loving and gracious God who, for reasons only his perfect wisdom can understand, sees fit to let sin continue its course in the world, at least in a limited way. But the Bible also tells us that the suffering that grieves us grieves him as well—that his ultimate desire, his main goal which he will accomplish, is indeed to bring humanity to a place where there is no more suffering. And he proved that compassion by sending Jesus to live, die and rise again to save us. So the compassion inherent in this question is true and right, but we shouldn’t let it make us bitter, but rather bold: the comfort we take in God’s care for us should fuel us to share the gospel with those who don’t know him, should drive us to the mission field, should provoke us to plant churches, should fill us with the urgency of love—an urgency which, despite what we may feel, God shares, and proves, in that he sent his Son at the right time to make atonement for his people. Deciding not to take comfort in this psalm because not everyone can, would be counterproductive, for if we don’t rejoice in this comfort, we would have no comfort to offer others.
That being said, we can arrive at our second question: What is the biggest obstacle to enjoying the comfort that this psalm provides? For most of us, our biggest obstacle is our burning desire to be self-sufficient. We want to see ourselves as strong and capable and equipped, and lacking nothing. (And if you want proof, ask yourself if you get irritated or angry when you feel like someone is treating you in a condescending way. Are you quick to say, “Please—do you really think I’m that stupid?” when someone tries to explain something to you or give you advice?) We have it when people are condescending to us, because we want to see ourselves (and for others to see us) as capable, strong, self-sufficient people. But the fact is that all of us are lacking without God, because for all of our seeming brilliance, none of us is able to escape death, and none of us on our own is secure in what is beyond death.
We’ve all heard stories of rebellious teenagers who run away from home and who suddenly are thrust into adulthood before they’re ready, who are forced to shoulder burdens that don’t belong to them and that they cannot bear. This is essentially what we have done: we have taken burdens on ourselves that don’t belong to us, and that we can’t possibly bear. We were never meant to be self-sufficient and all-powerful—the only one who can fit that bill is God himself. And when we nurture this desire for self-sufficiency, we force ourselves to shoulder burdens we can’t possibly carry. If we want to truly lack nothing, we only have one hope: that in Christ we find everything we need. If we are to accept what the psalmist tells us, we must accept that we are not self-sufficient. We come to God empty-handed, offering nothing, simply asking him to provide what we cannot provide for ourselves. And if we do this, we find that the rest the psalmist proposes here, the comfort he offers in the truth that the Lord is our shepherd, is ultimate rest, ultimate comfort: it is only in recognizing that we are not self-sufficient that we find in God alone that which we were lacking. It is only in recognizing our own lack that we may really and truly lack nothing.
Conclusion
So as we close, I’d like to appeal to us all (myself included) to pray. If you’re tired, there is rest. If you’re afraid, there is comfort. And if you’re not tired or afraid, rest assured: you will be. So let us pray that God would allow us to see our own lack, our own powerlessness, our own weakness, so that we might not imagine ourselves too strong to need a shepherd. Let us pray that he would bring us low, in order that he might raise us up. Let us pray that we may submit to his Son as the Good Shepherd, who laid down his life for his sheep. And let us pray that we might rest in the glorious promise that if we belong to him, we truly lack nothing; that if we belong to him, goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in his house forever.
Psalm 4 – In All Circumstances, God Alone Remains Trustworthy
Introduction
World War II is often considered the darkest period of our era, where our humanity showed what could be worst within it, with a multitude of horrors one could never have imagined. Yet, several documented testimonies have marked people's minds by the striking contrast between the violence of the circumstances and the unusual peace of certain individuals.
Among them is that of Betsie ten Boom, a Dutch Christian whose story is told in the book "The Hiding Place" ("La Cachette" in French). The city where she lived was regularly bombed by the German army, and it was during one of those nights of terror that her sister, waking up in a panic, took refuge in the kitchen and found her drinking herbal tea and reading her Bible.
Several similar stories were gathered with the London Blitz (heavy bombings of London by the German Luftwaffe in 1940-41), where newspapers of the time documented several cases of citizens who kept an inexplicable peace in the middle of the bombings; one of the best-known anecdotes is that of an elderly lady, a Christian, who had joined the underground shelter where everyone had taken refuge, bringing her pillow to try to sleep, even though she obviously had to sleep poorly (noise, uncomfortable), people were surprised at her unusual peace.
These people were human beings like everyone else, who suffered the same terrible circumstances as others, the same suffering, the same pain. But their faith in God influenced their attitude in a way that greatly surprised others.
How can one know such peace when everything seems to collapse around us? More precisely, what can we lean on when all human and earthly foundations are shaken?
This is the question that Psalm 4 raises.
In all circumstances, God alone remains trustworthy. That is today's message.
Context
Today we begin our summer series in the Psalms. Psalm 4 seems to form a pair with Psalm 3, they are quite similar and seem to tell of the same events, and they complement each other: Psalm 3 seemed to be a morning prayer for the Israelites (3:6), and Psalm 4 an evening prayer with verse 9.
There are good reasons to think, even if it remains a supposition, that this psalm refers to the same circumstances in David's life as those seen in Psalm 3: the one where his son Absalom attempted a coup d'état to seize power in his father's place, and where part of the people and the army betrayed David to rally to Absalom in Jerusalem, and where David had to flee with his men, reduced to having to sleep in a tent from place to place, uncertain of his future. You will find this story in 2 Samuel 15-18.
Whether proved true or not, difficult trials made up an integral part of David’s life, and we see in the Psalms how his faith in God comes to influence him in this kind of situation.
I. By Nature, Man Seeks Happiness in the Wrong Place
The tone is set right from verse 2: "Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!"
David is in distress and calls upon God for justice. The French translation loses the meaning of certain subtleties in the original Hebrew, because the Hebrew text says "when I was in narrowness (to refer to distress) you enlarged me," and a priori this would not be in the sense of "you removed my distress to rescue me," but rather to be understood in the sense of "within my very distress, during my distress, you helped me and you comforted me." And that rather makes sense with the rest of the psalm.
The problem is posed right from verse 3.
"O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?"
The term "glory" [translated "honor" here] can also designate honor, dignity, the status occupied by someone. Since David indicates in verse 4 that God has established him, David is not speaking from an ego-whim, but reproaches them for despising what God has honored.
In other words, the problem is not only that David is rejected, but that these men reject what God has established.
And David adds:
"You love what is worthless and you seek after lies."
They pursue empty realities, cling to illusions, they run after something that cannot satisfy.
They are vulgarly opportunistic. Traitors. They seek their security elsewhere than in God, and if we make the link with verse 8, they seek it in material comfort, in favorable living conditions, economic prosperity. These things are good in themselves, but what is condemned here is the fact of having despised God, of having immediately pushed Him to the periphery of one's life as soon as, humanly, we have all that we need.
But David continues in verse 4:
"Know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him."
Grand contrast.
Men love emptiness, pursue lies.
David leans on a solid reality, on the living God.
And above all, the emphasis is entirely placed on the action of God.
David does not say: "Look at how exceptional I am."
He says: "Look at what God has done."
It is God who sets apart, who chooses, who listens, who acts. David's security does not rest on his personal value, but on the faithfulness of God and on His action.
Then come verses 5 and 6: "Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord."
David does not call down judgment on his adversaries, but calls them to repentance.
The heart, in Hebraic thought, is not only the seat of emotions, but the center of the entire person, of reflection and decisions.
David says "if you are angry, if you are agitated, do not let all your impulses of sin explode, but examine yourselves, examine your life, consider honestly the things you are pursuing...". Note that the apostle Paul quotes this verse in Ephesians 4:26, always in a context of repentance and change of attitude. And "be silent" is not to be understood in the sense of "suck it up, internalize your pain, do not externalize it," on the contrary, and David speaks about this just after.
Then David adds: "Offer right sacrifices and trust in the Lord."
The fundamental problem of these men is not limited to their poor political choice (of having rejected David for Absalom), to their being materialistic and their needing to be a bit more outward-looking.
Their problem is spiritual. They seek happiness without God. They want good without the One who is the source of good.
And this appears clearly in verse 7:
"Many are saying, 'Who will show us some good?'" The great question of the psalm.
In Hebrew, the text literally speaks of "good": "Who will make us see the GOOD?".
It is the same word that is used in the creation story when God declares His creation "good," before the entry of sin into the world.
These men are in desperate search of lost paradise, of happiness.
But they seek it in the wrong place, by seeking "their own truth," what the psalm simply calls "lies."
"Many say: Who will show us happiness?". David's response is unequivocal: "Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!" It is the presence of God. Not that God is the means by which we can attain happiness, but happiness is indeed GOD HIMSELF.
II. The Rest of the One Who Trusts in God Alone
Men ask: "Who will show us happiness?"
David answers: "Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!" This is a current expression in the Old Testament, it signifies that the person benefits from the favor of God, His presence, His benevolent attention.
David does not say "happiness will come when I recover Jerusalem, or when my problem is solved," he does not look first for a solution, but he seeks God. He does not seek the gifts or blessings of God, but God Himself as the supreme Good.
Which does not stop him from having explicitly requested God's help in his situation, we saw it in verse 2, but David's cry is not limited to asking for the solution to the problem, but to being with God, in His presence.
David understood that when God is present, he already possesses the greatest Good.
Then comes this extraordinary verse: "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound."
David does not say:
"I am adopting a positive attitude; I try to look on the bright side of things; I try to remember the good memories I have" - in all these expressions I listed I used "I." But in this verse, there is no "I," it is God who gives joy. God who acts, who gives, who transforms.
Because once again, the word "heart" does not simply designate emotions, but all the inner being (thought, will, desires, intelligence). God renews David from the inside, for a result and a rendering much better than that of his men who enjoy material comfort. These men possess all that many consider necessary for happiness.
And yet David affirms:
"The joy that God puts in my heart is superior to all that."
What a paradox!
If the context of Absalom is indeed that of the psalm, or if it is another unknown episode of David's life, we can still imagine the scene.
On one side these men, who have all that is necessary humanly speaking, with provisions and reserves for many months, with the high walls of Jerusalem for support, with flourishing businesses, but finally all these things turn out just to be camouflage of what they really are: empty creatures, unhappy, deprived of ultimate Good, wandering. And when they find themselves in the evening, on their king size mattress, alone with their conscience, it is only void, agitation, lies and illusion.
On the other side David, rejected, in flight, with his men in tents, wandering from place to place, in uncertainty about his future, but who knows however more and more that his life is in the hands of God, that it is in Him that he has all that he needs, that he belongs to Him, and that God hears him when he cries to Him.
On the earthly and human level, which of the two seem outwardly the happiest? On the level of eternity, which one really is?
The happiest man of this psalm is not the one everyone envies, the one whose lifestyle makes the front page of social media and Instagram, or even more modestly the man who is the embodiment of the model of stable and serene success of the middle class. No, the happiest man is the man who knows God, and whom God knows.
Then the psalm reaches its summit in verse 9: "In peace I will both lie down and sleep."
Let us dig a little, David does not simply say: "I feel a little better."
The Hebrew text literally says:
"In shalom I will lie down."
Biblical "shalom" is much more than the absence of conflict. It is wholeness. Integrity. Harmony. Deep peace that flows from being in the hands of God.
David looks at his situation. And humanly, he has many reasons to be worried.
But he knows a reality greater than his circumstances. He knows that God reigns, He has not lost control, He is faithful, and that is why he can sleep.
Then he concludes:
"For you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."
David is not really speaking of a house here (a priori he sleeps in a tent), but the original meaning seems to be "you make me dwell in a state of security, of peace."
Conclusion and Application
Like David we can call on God when we face, whether individually or collectively, terrible injustices that we may suffer in this world, I think of all those cases we hear of harassment at school or at work, of physical or sexual assault, those people who undergo scams (in real estate, or cars, or other) and who lose their savings yet hard-earned, think of the persecuted church and of our brothers and sisters in the world who are imprisoned or killed for their faith. Faced with this evil, these dramas and injustices that we may experience and that poison our lives, that sometimes seem to destroy us little by little, we have human resources we can use and thank the Lord for that (to be able to ask for help, refer to authorities, file a complaint, launch a judicial procedure) but what to do when these initiatives (which are necessary and useful, which we must use and do all that is in our power humanly to fix these situations), but that despite all the human energy we have deployed to act, these initiatives reveal themselves despite all insufficient and disappointing in providing us the peace, security and comfort of which we have so much need in these situations of distress?
Let us be encouraged to cry out to our God, the "God of my righteousness." And let us be all the more encouraged to do it because our God understands our distress, God will not answer us coldly like an administrative email "I take note of your distress, I will answer you soon," but God understands our distress simply because He Himself directly lived it. God became man in Jesus Christ, He is the faithful man par excellence of whom verse 4 speaks, and despite His innocence He was betrayed by those close to Him and nailed on a cross. These men of verse 3, it is us, all of us, who are sinners by nature and who have this natural tendency by nature to reject God and despise Him, or else to follow Him in appearance as long as He seems to give us what we want to have, but to reject Him out of opportunism immediately. For us who were lost and without hope, He died, carrying on Himself the punishment that we deserved. But henceforth risen from the dead, we know that it is in Him, by faith in Him, that we are forgiven of our faults and reconciled with God.
I read Romans 5:1-5: "Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
Faith in Christ is not just an administrative formality that allows us to be saved, to have a "visa for heaven," but it is the lifebuoy that we cling to daily, which renders us capable of finding peace and comfort in God in the middle of all daily trials.
The Cost of Ambition (PHILIPPIANS 2.12-30)
For the past four Sundays, we have been reflecting on ambition as God sees it.
God is not against ambition. Quite the opposite. He wants to replace our small ambitions with His own: to fill the world with people who know Him and glorify Him.
Last Sunday, we saw that God is in charge of this plan. He opens and closes doors. He arranges encounters. He opens hearts. So we are not wasting our time in pursuing this ambition.
***
But… any serious ambition requires hard work. That’s what we’re going to look at this morning.
Not all ambitions are serious. I know someone who recently went to see Bruno Mars in concert. On her way home, she asked ChatGPT to come up with a plan for her to marry Bruno Mars!
As far as I know, she won’t be following through on it!
Real ambitions require hard work.
If Les Bleus want to lift the World Cup, they’ll have to put up with training sessions, injuries, sacrifices and the pressure.
Ambition according to God is no exception.
If we want to grow with God, see people come to know Jesus and see new churches spring up, it’s going to take work.
That’s where we are at Connexion.
In a year’s time, after more than ten years with us, the Procopio family will be leaving to plant a new church in eastern Paris. We are praying that some of you here will join them.
This ambition is deeply Christian. We have been praying for a long time for new churches to be planted in the Paris region.
This ambition will come at a cost.
Friends will leave. Routines will change. We will need to take on new responsibilities, lead services and step up to the plate.
It would be easy to experience this transition with a sense of loss rather than with joy.
This morning’s passage calls us to set to work.
Our situation resembles that of the church in Philippi in the Bible.
Last week, we witnessed its birth. God opened a door for the Gospel in that city. Lydia came to faith. A church was born.
Ten years later, Paul, who had planted it, is in prison. He faces execution. The Philippians love him deeply, but they must learn to move forward without him.
The context is difficult. From the very beginning, this church has faced opposition. Paul had been imprisoned there. Ten years later, he still speaks of adversaries and suffering.
He passes the torch to them at a time when the future seems most uncertain.
The beginning of our passage:
‘So then, my beloved… not only whilst I was present, but even more so now that I am absent… work out your salvation…’
In other words: it’s up to you to take over. The situation is tough, but God will help you.
All things considered — Jason is neither an apostle nor in prison — there is a parallel with Connexion.
How do we carry on the work that God has begun? How do we continue to bear fruit when the founder is no longer here?
Part of the answer, as we saw last Sunday, is that God is sovereign. We can undertake great things for him, because he is in control.
The other part is today’s passage: the work
This text tells us to set to work for Christ, because God works in us through this so that we may become like Christ.
1. Get to work …
2. … with the Master’s mindset as our model
Get to work
So perhaps we ask ourselves: what if I don’t feel like it?
What if I feel neither motivated nor capable of serving Jesus?
There are certainly times when I prefer my own comfort to serving Jesus!
In verses 12 to 18, Paul encourages us.
If we want to become what God wants us to become, and if we want to experience true joy… let’s set to work for Jesus.
He says first of all that we are…
Trained through work (12–13)
Philippians 2:12 again
So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed – not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence – work out your salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God who works in you both to will and to act according to his good purpose.
I imagine many of us have already asked ourselves this question: what is God’s will for my life?
In verse 13, we find the answer.
“God works in you both to will and to act in accordance with … his good purpose.”
What is this plan?
It is to “work out your salvation with fear and trembling”.
We have salvation; it is a gift.
But we must open this gift and make the most of it. Let God transform us into the people he saved us to be.
What he wants us to be might … surprise us!
Let’s go back a few verses.
Philippians 1:27
Only let your conduct be worthy of the Gospel of Christ. So that, whether I come to see you or am absent, I may hear that you are standing firm … in one spirit … striving together with one heart for the faith of the Gospel, and not being intimidated in any way by your opponents.
The city of Philippi was populated by veterans of the Roman army. They knew all about fighting and adversaries!
What God wants to train us for is to serve in his own army!
Not a literal army! A group that gives of itself so that the good news may spread and so that we may all stand firm in the faith.
‘That’s scary,’ some might say.
‘Fighting isn’t my thing!’
I see those who are incredibly zealous to serve, but I don’t have that zeal!
You know what? Neither do I!
But that’s exactly the point.
God isn’t looking for people who already think that way.
No, he says: I have already chosen you, but I won’t leave you to fend for yourself. I will train you to think more and more like Jesus.
That is the whole promise of verse 13: He produces in us ‘the will’ – the desire to serve.
When we discover Jesus and his love, when we seek to obey him, God gradually transforms our desires. His ambitions become our own.
And he also produces ‘the ability to do it’
He enables us to act in accordance with the new desires that Jesus gives us.
I meet Jesus. He is so wonderful that I want to serve him.
God says: go for it. I’ll train you as you go along so you can do it better and better.
Let’s not sit idly by waiting for the desire to serve him to come to us. When we set to work… God works within us to make us the people he wants us to be.
We are trained by working to…
To shine whilst we work! (14–16)
Verse 14
“Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may be blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation.”
In our professional lives, not all of us will shine.
I was a very mediocre journalist. The only people who remember my work are my mother and my wife; probably because my tie was askew in front of the camera.
The Christian’s calling, for which God trains us, is to shine by serving as Jesus did on the path leading to our heavenly homeland—the new creation that God has in store for his people.
To illustrate this, Paul draws a contrast between us and the Israelites in the Old Testament.
When Paul says, ‘Do everything without grumbling or arguing’, he is not simply saying: never complain.
It echoes the attitude of the Israelites when they came out of Egypt.
God had great plans for them too.
He had rescued them from Egypt to lead them to the Promised Land. But the desert they had to cross seemed too difficult for them.
They became grumblers: ‘We miss Egypt… its cucumbers, its melons, its leeks; everything was better when we were… slaves.’
pause
It’s not hard to see how one might think like them.
“Serving Jesus is too much of a sacrifice.”
“God doesn’t look after me properly.”
“Another life would be more pleasant.”
I’ll let you in on a secret. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether I really want to be a pastor. And on some days, whether I still want to be a Christian.
As if God hadn’t already shown me His goodness, and as if He weren’t going to keep doing so! It’s pathetic, but like the Israelites, I’m quick to forget.
When planting a new church, we may be tempted by such thoughts.
It’s not like it used to be.
My friends aren’t here anymore.
It’s on a smaller scale.
There’s more work.
We have to give more money.
Paul says: do not be like the Israelites.
In his great love, God has saved you and begun a work in you, so that, verse 15, ‘you may be blameless and pure, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. You shine among them like beacons in the world as you hold fast to the word of life.’
We too are on our way to our promised land – the new creation.
We too are called to do everything we can to ensure that everyone makes the journey, crosses the desert and reaches their destination safely.
Unlike the Israelites, our task is also to call others to join the procession through the desert.
Paul says that “you shine among them like beacons in the world, bearing the word of life.”
What a magnificent image!
We know the way that leads to life. Our calling is to light up that path so that others may join us!
It is to do this that God has placed you in your workplace, or at the school gates, in your group of friends or sports club.
To shine for Jesus and light the way to life!
But if we ever find ourselves thinking: ‘Yes, but I’m not up to it; my witness at work hasn’t been great; I find it hard to share my faith with others…’ God is already at work within us to that end!
We work because God is at work within us! When we set to work for him, he continues his work within us!
We are shaped through our work… to shine whilst we work… and to be…
Joyful whilst working (17–18)
Verse 17:
“And even if my blood is to be poured out as a sacrifice and service for your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. You too, be glad and rejoice with me.”
Paul is in prison for preaching the gospel. He faces the death penalty.
But he is joyful.
Our translation is a little more morbid than the original text.
Literally, verse 17 says: even if I am poured out as a libation, upon the sacrifice and service of your faith
In the Old Testament, a libation was an offering of wine that accompanied a sacrifice.
When an animal was sacrificed, it was sometimes accompanied by a cup of wine that was poured over it.
Paul presents the Philippians’ faith as a sacrifice offered to God. Their faith, their progress, their service – it is an offering that pleases the Lord.
And Paul rejoices at the thought of being poured out himself, even to the point of death, simply to accompany this offering and make it even more pleasing to God.
How is it possible to think like that?
If you’re like me, we don’t like making sacrifices, and if we have to make them, we at least want to be noticed!
Not Paul! He is delighted to give his all simply to support the spiritual growth of the Philippians.
How is it possible to take joy in sacrificing oneself for others?
***
The joy in Philippians comes from knowing Jesus.
(slowly)
In particular, joy comes … from welcoming Jesus … and his sacrificial death … as the supreme revelation … of who God truly is … x 2
Let’s go back a few verses.
Philippians 2:5
Let your attitude be the same as that of Jesus Christ:
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard his equality with God
as something to be grasped at,
but he emptied himself
by taking the form of a servant,
and becoming like human beings.
Found in human form,
he humbled himself
by showing obedience even unto death,
even death on the cross.
The one who poured himself out for others was, first and foremost, Christ.
Equal with God from all eternity, he humbled himself to serve and sacrifice himself.
Verse 9
That is also why God exalted him to the highest place
and given him the name
that is above every name
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bow
in heaven, on earth and under the earth
and every tongue may confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
Jesus was equal with the Father from all eternity …
but the moment that demonstrated most supremely that he truly deserved the name of Lord, the name of God …
… was the moment when he poured himself out for us.
Who is truly our God?
Look at Jesus emptying himself right up to the cross. That is our God. A God who gives himself. A God who serves. A God who loves to the very end.
Take Lionel Messi – and please bear with me if you’re not a football fan.
Many have been saying for a long time: “He’s the best player of all time.”
What will prove this beyond doubt?
If he scores goals and leads his team to the World Cup title.
Then people will say: “Now we can really see who the greatest is.”
(I know nobody here wants him to win!)
Jesus has always been God, but what demonstrated this most supremely was not a display of power.
It was when he gave himself up for us, because what brings our God the greatest glory is his love! His compassion!
Paul sees this and says: Jesus is my hero!
My God became a servant for my sake!
What other God would do that?
What other king would become a servant?
What other master would die for his enemies?
He’s my hero!
My joy is in knowing him, admiring him and following his example!
I want to be with him. And I want to be like him!
Our society tells us that happiness is achieved by clinging to our lives and living for ourselves.
Nothing could be further from the truth!
True joy comes from giving ourselves entirely because we know Jesus and we know that he gave himself for us!
A friend recently told me that the moments when he has felt happiest in recent years have been those when he has been most generous with the gifts God has given him.
Some of you will be serving at Christian camps this summer.
My experience of camps: stress, discomfort, fitful nights… and the deep joy of giving oneself in the service of Jesus!
To those of you who have set off on mission trips: frustration, tiredness, vulnerability… and I imagine moments of deep joy too!
Why? Because by serving Jesus, we come to appreciate more fully the service Jesus has shown us!
We savour the greatness of our hero!
A question to ask if we’re lacking joy: am I giving of myself because I’m in awe of Jesus?
Perhaps the answer is no – I don’t feel in awe of Jesus.
If that’s the case – we sometimes go through dry spells – let’s stand before the cross and implore God’s help.
It is He who gives us both the will and the ability… He delights in bringing us joy by showing us the greatness of His Son!
***
We are shaped through our work
To shine whilst we work
And to find joy in our work
Let’s get to work!
***
So what does that mean in everyday life?
Should we give up our jobs and become missionaries?
Perhaps you have the gifts and character that mean, yes, that would be the best thing for you.
Probably not for most of us, though.
What does it look like in everyday life to set to work for Jesus?
Pause
Second point before we finish
At work …
… with the Master’s mindset as our model
Paul introduces us to two men who are just like us and who have set to work for the gospel.
Their backgrounds are very different. What they have in common is their mindset. Their attitude.
Paul wants to show us that, since we are all different, there is no single way to work for the cause of the Gospel.
What really matters is adopting this mindset.
It is characterised by three things
A desire to serve God’s people.
A willingness to work hard.
And acceptance of the cost that this entails.
First, we have Timothy.
Verse 19
“I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, so that I myself may be encouraged by the news I receive from you, for I have no one else who shares my concern and truly takes your situation to heart.”
Timothy is Paul’s closest and most brilliant colleague
Paul says he has no one like him.
What sets him apart, first and foremost, is his concern for the faith of other Christians.
In verse 21, Paul makes it clear that caring for the interests of other Christians is the same as caring for the interests of Jesus himself.
One cannot serve Jesus without serving his people.
We may enjoy studying theology and listening to sermons – that is excellent. But if, little by little, we withdraw from church life because we prefer to learn on our own rather than bear the burdens of our brothers and sisters, we are missing the point of Jesus’ mindset. Christian maturity is measured not only by what I know, but also by the place others occupy in my heart.
Timothy is prepared to set aside his own interests for this very reason.
He is going to leave Rome, where he is with Paul, to go to Philippi and put his considerable gifts at the service of persecuted Christians.
He is selfless.
He is also diligent.
Verse 22.
“You know that Timothy has proved himself by devoting himself to the service of the Gospel with me, just as a son serves his father”
Timothy has seen Paul labouring for the Gospel … and he has followed his example.
Then there is Epaphroditus.
Epaphroditus
Whilst Timothy is someone exceptional, Epaphroditus is just an ordinary bloke!
Not someone remarkable. Just someone with strong convictions.
When you think of Epaphroditus, think of a parcel delivery man. He crossed the Mediterranean to bring the Philippians’ support to Paul in his time of need. Nothing spectacular, but an indispensable service.
Timothy had preached to crowds. Epaphroditus undertook a long, uncomfortable and dangerous journey to serve a brother in need.
But… it’s just as valuable for the gospel!
Epaphroditus takes his concern for Jesus’ people to the point of absurdity.
Verse 27
During the journey he fell ill and came close to death, yet Epaphroditus “longed to see you all again and was distressed because you had heard of his illness.”
He does not feel sorry for himself. He thinks of his brothers and sisters first!
Two examples. Two different characters. The same mindset!
This shows that we can all set to work for Jesus!
We’re all different.
We have different personalities. Different gifts. Different backgrounds. We’re at different stages in life.
We can all adopt this mindset.
Serving God’s people.
Working hard.
Accepting the cost
That is the mindset of Jesus… our great hero!
***
If we have this mindset… all we need on top of that is a little imagination.
Working for the cause of the Gospel is the work of an entrepreneur.
If we’re clear about what really matters, and if we’re prepared to give of ourselves, we’ll find opportunities to serve everywhere.
At work. With our friends. At church.
All you need to do is adopt this mindset and then dream!
Don’t swallow the lie that says the only goal worth working towards is getting the best education, landing the best job, earning the best salary, buying the most beautiful house, having the best pension, dying in the best hospital, being buried in the most beautiful cemetery, with the most beautiful grave, and the loveliest daisies growing beside it.
We can work towards something far more glorious!
Let’s dream together for a moment.
We all have gifts, resources and opportunities.
Imagine all that we could achieve by putting them to use for the gospel!
It starts with simple things.
Having a coffee with a sister who’s feeling discouraged, or phoning a brother we haven’t seen for a month.
Inviting a colleague to our community group.
The holidays are coming up. Why not take this opportunity to ask yourself: what could I do for the gospel?
Why not grab a notebook and make a list: if I adopted this mindset, I could…
And then pray about these things.
But let’s not forget that it’s not just about me and my personal plans.
God is not just preparing servants. He is preparing a people of servants. An army!
So the question is not just ‘what could I do?’ but ‘what could we do?’
This mindset is the key to the future of our church – or should I say, our churches.
It is striking that when Paul wanted to prepare the Philippians for a future without him, he did not say: ‘Appoint a new pastor.’
He says: ‘Let each of you adopt the mindset of the Master.
Let us all imitate Jesus!
Connexion, Oberkampf, East Paris – the pastor is important. But he is secondary!
What matters most is the mindset we all share.
Serve joyfully.
Work hard.
Accept the cost.
This is what God is already bringing about in us!
This mindset will be the deciding factor in choosing where we commit ourselves.
Not: where will I be most comfortable, or where will my friends be going?
But: where can I best serve God’s people, by working hard and accepting the cost?
We can all make the most of this transition to let God teach us to think like Jesus, in his service, his self-sacrifice and his love.
***
I know that some of you feel discouraged because you have served so much this year with seemingly little to show for it. Your small group has shrunk in size. You have shared the gospel but seen no fruit.
It’s frustrating.
Perhaps God wants to shift your joy … from results to Jesus himself.
Christian joy does not come from ministry that succeeds, but from ministry that makes us more like Jesus!
Jesus persevered when nobody wanted him; he was rejected. And in seeing that perseverance, we see God’s character, and we can rejoice that he is making us more like him.
A word also for those who think life is too difficult right now to serve Jesus.
Firstly, living out our salvation involves applying the Gospel to our trials.
To come before the great Servant so that he may serve us.
But if Paul is right and joy comes from taking our focus off ourselves, as Jesus did, perhaps setting to work for him is precisely the remedy we need.
The broken-hearted who allow Christ to heal their wounds are the ones who accomplish the most for him.
A final word for those who say to themselves: ‘I didn’t set out to serve; I lived for myself.’
Jesus became the servant of people who lived for themselves …
He did not come for people who were already servants of God. He came first to serve us, so that we might be transformed into servants filled with joy.
God is at work within us. Let us set to work for him.
It’s summer. I imagine many of you need a holiday.
And then… back to work!

