Psalm 91
Psalm 91
Introduction
Personal story
In 2008, my family went through one of its greatest trials—if not the greatest. We experienced a death: the loss of my father. For context, my father had liver cancer, and I had already been witnessing its effects on his body for several years before he passed away. The more the illness progressed, the more fervently my family prayed. We prayed and prayed… We even received what seemed to be promises of healing for my father:
One day, for example, a Christian woman—completely unknown to us—saw my mother crying in the street, approached her, and told her that her husband would be healed.
Or my very devout grandmother in Egypt, who received a word of knowledge from someone saying that her son would be healed...
So we thought: “It’s all a matter of faith!” And so we believed, and we prayed even more.
Until that fateful December 6th, 2008, when the Creator decided otherwise, and my father left us. I’ll let you imagine how devastated we were, how disoriented we felt, realizing that those so-called prophecies were just empty words.
Over time, grief passed, and God clearly sustained us.
But still—why allow us to experience such disappointment, such “false hope” of healing?
Today, we’re going to study Psalm 91, a text full of promises. And if I, back in 2008, just 15 years old and with a rather immature faith, had stumbled across Psalm 91 before my father's death, I would have undoubtedly read it as yet another promise of healing...
That was my personal experience, but I’m far from being alone.
Some even see their faith erode because of the gap between how they interpret the Bible’s promises and what actually happens in life.
That’s why I believe it is absolutely necessary for every Christian to seriously examine what these kinds of promises really mean.
Structure
The structure of today’s message is based on verse 1, which is actually a summary of the entire chapter. Let’s read verse 1 again:
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”
Two parts stand out clearly, linked by a sort of logical condition: “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High” (one part), resulting in “will rest in the shadow of the Almighty” (another part).
Here is the outline:
Resting in the shadow of the Almighty
Dwelling in the shelter of the Most High
Resting in the shadow of the Almighty
Let’s focus on what the “shadow of the Almighty” is. What kind of protection does this shadow promise?
When we read the Bible superficially—only the pleasant parts, with one eye shut, ignoring the harder passages—we risk misunderstanding what the shadow of the Almighty truly is.
And I get it—it’s tempting to want to feel protected from all harm. Verse 9 says:
“No harm will befall you.”
That’s radical! No harm? Not even a little?
It’s tempting to interpret this as: we have nothing to fear—not poverty, not people, not sickness. That all of life’s hardships and sufferings will simply skip over us. This sounds so good, so positive, that it can actually lead us to a distorted view of the Gospel.
This psalm could easily be misused to promote, for example, a prosperity gospel—a gospel that says:
God’s shadow equals material blessings.
If you’re sick or poor, it’s because you’re not really under His shelter.
And we might think, “Well, the Bible supports that, doesn’t it?”
But that would be ignoring the more difficult parts of Scripture.
It’s a paradox.
If we understand Psalm 91 only at surface level, we’ll quickly see that it’s completely out of sync with reality. Many Christians suffer at least some misfortune in life—if not a laundry list of them.
Despite their prayers, their desire for God’s protection, despite their faith that God can act—they may live their entire lives marked by suffering, sometimes up until their final breath.And maybe we’d think this only happens to a few Christians who don’t have enough faith. But it’s more than that. Not only today’s Christians—but even the very “models of faith” in the Bible.
In the Old Testament:
The prophet Jeremiah suffered rejection, was imprisoned, even thrown into a cistern for preaching God’s word.
The prophet Elijah was persecuted, on the run for his life, and even asked God to let him die.
In the New Testament:
John the Baptist was imprisoned and then beheaded for his ministry.
Paul lists all his sufferings in 2 Corinthians 11—it’s a long list!
All the disciples of Jesus, including Jesus himself—literally God on Earth—faced intense suffering, many of them even unto death.
Paul even writes from prison—probably his final letter before execution—in 2 Timothy 3:12:
“In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.”
So why the contradiction?
On the one hand, the Bible is full of “feel-good” promises of divine protection…
Yet on the other hand, it’s full of apparent counterexamples.
Do we have a God who doesn’t keep His promises?
In preparing this sermon, I came across a passage where Jesus directly addresses this paradox:
Luke 21:16–19
“You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. But not a hair of your head will perish. Stand firm, and you will win life.”
Jesus says that His disciples will be persecuted and killed… then immediately says, “Not a hair of your head will perish.”
If we believe Jesus is telling the truth, we’re left with two options:
Either take it literally, and assume the disciples died with full heads of hair…
Or realize He’s using imagery to describe a protection far greater than physical safety.
Protection from invisible dangers
Is there a greater danger than losing your life?
According to Jesus—yes. A danger so serious that, in comparison, death is just a detail.
And that’s the danger Psalm 91 is addressing:
An invisible danger, but one with eternal consequences.
Back to Psalm 91, verses 3–6:
“Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence... You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.”
This “great” danger has many faces:
Natural dangers like disease (pestilence).
Targeted attacks (arrows).
Intentional traps from a cunning enemy (the fowler’s snare).
Paul warns us in Ephesians 6:12:
“Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but... against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
These dangers threaten us day and night—so that no rest is possible on this earth.
Yes, this psalm promises “a shield and buckler.”
Verse 13 says we’ll trample lions and serpents—it’s powerful, reassuring.
But even that, according to Jesus, is not what should bring us the most joy.
When Jesus sent out the 72 disciples, they came back thrilled that even demons obeyed them. But Jesus replied:
Luke 10:19–20
“I have given you authority... nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
Protection from God’s wrath
Ultimately, the greatest danger we face—even more than physical death or spiritual warfare—is being separated from God.
Because God is just, and His justice demands that sin be punished. The wages of sin is death—not just physical death, but eternal separation.
Psalm 90 (which Hery will preach on August 17, God willing) emphasizes the brevity of human life under God’s wrath.
That wrath is the real “great” danger.
And we’re all affected—because we’re all sinners. From birth, we inherit Adam’s sin. Add to that our own daily sins… and we’re helpless to escape on our own.
Satan’s real power lies in tempting us into sin—so that, as the accuser, he can accuse us before the righteous Judge.
So yes—the punishment for sin is inevitable.
But—Psalm 91 still promises protection from the fate of the wicked:
Verses 7–8
“A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you... you will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.”
We see that what causes the thousands to fall is the punishment of the wicked. But under God’s protection, we’re not destroyed by it—we see it.
Dwelling in the shelter of the Most High
This brings us to the condition for this protection.
Who is this psalm addressed to? Can I benefit from this protection?
Psalm 91 is written in a unique structure—at times it’s someone speaking about God, other times God Himself speaks directly. At the end, in verse 14, God gives us the profile of the person He protects:
“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.”
But here’s the problem: we are sinners.
And as we said earlier, sin separates us from God. Just one sin expelled Adam and Eve from the Garden—from His presence.
This makes it impossible for us to love God perfectly and know His name...
Impossible for everyone—except one man.
Jesus alone can dwell in that shelter
God Himself became a man in Jesus. He alone can say, “I love the Father. I know His name.”
That relationship is confirmed by both sides:
God declared it at Jesus’ baptism (Matt. 3:17)
“This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”And Jesus confirmed it (Matt. 11:27)
“No one knows the Father except the Son.”
So finally, one man can claim the full protection of Psalm 91.
But He chose to give it up—for us.
Jesus exposed so we could be sheltered
The only man who deserved full protection chose to be abandoned by God on the cross.
He faced the arrows, was tempted like us—but never sinned.
When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, Satan even used this psalm against Him:
Matt. 4:5–6
“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you...’”
Satan knew this psalm applied to Jesus.
But Jesus came with a mission: to save us.
That mission required laying aside Psalm 91's promises—at least for a time.
He drank the cup of God’s wrath in our place. And thank God—He triumphed over death.
Now, the justice of God is no longer a barrier. There is no more separation.
We’ve entered a new covenant with God, as prophesied in Jeremiah 31:31–34:
“...They will all know me... I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.”
Now, if I put my faith in Jesus, I can say, “I know God.”
And to the earlier question, “Who can dwell in God’s shelter?”—I can raise my hand and say, “Me. Because of Jesus, this promise applies to me now too.”
What a gift! A gift that cost God greatly.
But as with any gift—we must choose to accept or reject it.
A gift not to be rejected
The Bible shows us it’s possible to reject this gift.
Originally intended for Israel, God’s chosen people—yet they rejected it.
In Matthew 23:37, Jesus mourns for them:
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem... how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.”
The image of Psalm 91 returns here—a place under God’s wings is available, but they didn’t want it.
That place is now open to all nations—including us.
Let’s not make the same mistake.
If you’re hearing this message and haven’t accepted this gift—it’s not too late. But the time is limited. This gift is offered to us as long as we are alive, or until Jesus returns to judge His creation.
If you have accepted this gift—praise God! But be vigilant.
Our hearts can still seek refuge in other things—people, addictions, money.
When we do that, we say with our actions: “God, your protection is not enough.”
Let’s pray constantly that our hope remains rooted in the refuge of Psalm 91.
That everything else would seem dull compared to the shelter of His wings.
Conclusion
As humans, our eyes are naturally fixed downward—on our lives, our comfort, our loved ones, our health.
Psalm 91 isn’t meant to disappoint us—as I felt after my father died.
Its goal is to redirect our gaze toward what should truly concern or delight us.
Back then, what I should have feared was whether our family’s faith would survive such a disappointment.
Because that has eternal consequences.
That is a great danger.
Thank God—He didn’t leave us. I’ve seen His hand providing for my widowed mother, but above all, preserving the faith of my mother, my brother, my sister, and myself.
Our faith is stronger now than it was in 2008, and we remain attached to God—still under His protection.
We don’t have a God who makes temporary, perishable promises.
His promises are eternal.
They bring peace.
Peace that—even in suffering, even in death—we are preserved.