Life: The Path Promised

Psalm 16:11,

You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

“Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.” David begins Psalm 16.

Immediately, we see the language of faith (cf. Psalm 2:11). David trusts in the Lord. He doesn’t merely acknowledge that God exists, but he understands his entire existence in relation to God’s supremacy.

“I have no good apart from you” (verse 2). “The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot” (verse 5). “I have set the Lord always before me” (verse 8).

It’s this life of faith that leads up to verse 11. David shows us what it means to trust in the Lord. And the life of trusting the Lord makes David’s heart glad, indeed his whole being rejoices and his flesh also dwells secure (verse 9). Why does his flesh dwell secure? It’s because the Lord will not abandon his soul to Sheol. The Lord won’t let his holy one see corruption. In short, here is resurrection.

Jesus Was Raised

This is the theme of Psalm 16 that continues into Psalm 17 (cf. Psalm 17:15). And it has Messianic overtones. In fact, the apostles tell us that this is about Jesus (Acts 2:19–36). David is speaking here, but as Peter proclaimed, “he foresaw and spoke about the resurrection of the Christ, that he was not abandoned to Hades, nor did his flesh see corruption” (Acts 2:31).

It’s better for us that this is about Jesus. If it’s about Jesus then it’s about us, too. For just as Christ was raised, we’ll be raised (1 Corinthians 15:17–20). More than a promise, we have an actual demonstration. There’s an empty tomb out there to remind us.

The Path of Life

So it’s about resurrection. And when David starts in verse 11, “You make known to me the path of life,” that’s what he’s talking about. The path of life is not mainly about the here and now. Calvin writes, “It is to form a very low estimate, indeed, of the grace of God to speak of him as a guide to his people in the path of life only for a very few years in this world” (Commentaries, 233). There are tons of things in Holy Scripture about life in this world, but this isn’t one. The path of life isn’t about balancing your checkbook (though that’s a good thing), neither about the way of wisdom (not in this psalm, anyway), nor about the how-tos of faith (even when we need them).

The path of life is being united to God such that we’ll never be without him.

The path of life is what God makes known to us — not as a trail to follow, but as a promise to embrace.

That’s the glorious shift in Psalm 16. It begins with our faith in God and ends with God’s faithfulness to us. He will not abandon us. No he won’t! He won’t. He makes known to us the path of life. Life beyond the grave. Life that ushers us into his presence where there is fullness of joy, at this right hand where there are pleasures forevermore.

So We Rejoice

So we dwell secure here. Our being rejoices. We are glad. We can go forth today and tomorrow and next knowing that not even death can separate us from God’s love for us in Christ Jesus. We know how this thing will turn out.

We will be with him.

Read the original post at Fighterverses.com.

Jesus in the Songs of Ascents

A Song of Ascents
Woe to me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar! (Psalms 120:5)

The first “Song of Ascents” tells us Israel is in exile.

Glance through the surrounding pages to see this same superscript is repeated. In fact, Psalms 120–134 are all introduced “A Song of Ascents.” Understood in its context, this refers to Israel’s “coming up” out of Babylonian captivity. As each psalm shows us a little more we begin to see the journey from exile to Jerusalem.

Psalm 121 reminds us that the Lord is our keeper, he’ll keep our going out and coming in (verse 8). Psalm 122 directs us to a restored Jerusalem as our hope and prayer (verse 5). And a “restored Jerusalem” is a Jerusalem under the kingship of Messiah (verse 6). Then Psalm 123 defines our hope — “our eyes look to the Lord our God.” (verse 2). The Lord
alone is our salvation. And Psalm 124 assures us of this by recounting Israel’s deliverance from Egypt (verses 1–5). Psalm 125 interjects a vision of Jerusalem once more. Mount Zion (Jerusalem) is the picture of one who trusts in the Lord. This person, like Jerusalem, will not be moved but abides forever. Psalm 126 longs for this reality, “Restore our fortunes, O Lord!” (verse 4).

But wait. Right now we’re in Meschech. Reading Psalm 120 puts us surrounded by the tents of Kedar. Where they hate peace.

And as it was with the psalmist so it is with us, the readers. “We mourn in lonely exile here.” But it’s not lonely because the Son of God has come. He came and lived and suffered and died and was buried, then raised and ascended and enthroned. That’s when he sent the Spirit, the Helper, who indwells us now as a guarantee and validates our sonship by his witness (John 14:15–17; Ephesians 1:14; Romans 8:16).

So we’re not lonely, but we are waiting.

Jesus said he’d come back (John 14:3) — we’ve not yet seen his face. Paul said our citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20) — do you read the paper here?

Then Peter gives us (yes, all Christians) a helpful phrase: “elect exiles” (1 Peter 1:1, 17). That’s what we are. We’re exiles. We’re waiting.

And waiting is hard to do. We get the sorrowful part in 2 Corinthians 6:10. It is an age of groaning (Romans 8:23). It feels a lot like Meschech.

________

A Song of Ascents. Of Solomon
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord . . . (Psalm 127:3)

So Israel is in exile, but there is hope. Our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us (Psalm 123:2). These are the “Songs of Ascents” after all. Israel is coming up out of her captivity. We are headed to a restored Jerusalem.

From exile to a restored Jerusalem. We’ve seen this idea by the time we come to Psalm 127 and now it get’s a little clearer. Exactly how is this movement going to happen? How will we go from here to there?

Let’s talk about children.

This moving from here to there is only going to happen if the Lord himself does it. All our waiting is vain unless he shows up. And children are a heritage from the Lord. The sudden shift to children is no accident. The psalmist is refining our hope. The restored Jerusalem and the Lord‘s work are associated with the blessing of children.

But it’s not just any children. Not at this point in the story, not in this “drama of the Son.” Since Genesis 3:15 we’ve been looking for one born of a woman. Then for the offspring of Abraham (Genesis 12:3). Then for the descendent of David, the Son whose kingdom will be established forever (2 Samuel 7:13). We’re looking for this Son. He’s the locus of our hope.

The superscript is another step to help us see this. This psalm in the Songs of Ascents has an additional line. “A Song of Ascents. Of Solomon.” Solomon? Yes. A son of David. The psalmist wants us to know that all our waiting is targeted on this Son. So the line about Solomon makes us think “David’s son” and, perhaps, it also means to put Solomon in the same place as us. Maybe he knows (like we find out in 1 Kings) that he’s not the promised one.

We begin to hear the message: Solomon has come and gone . . . and we’re still looking for the Son.

And while we, after the Nativity, are not so much looking for the Son, we are looking to him. Jerusalem is not yet new and we know the only way it will be is by this One.

________

A Song of Ascents
There I will make a horn to sprout for David; I have prepared a lamp for my anointed. (Psalm 132:17)

Psalm 132 is the longest and clearest of the Songs of Ascents. As we’ve seen in the earlier psalms, we are coming up out of exile in hopes of a restored Jerusalem. Psalm 132 tells us why this Jerusalem is so special: it is the place of God’s dwelling and the throne of his anointed.

Two concepts come together in this city: the Lord‘s presence (the ark) and the Lord‘s reign (Davidic kingship). This is what makes it the zip code of our dreams. These two things. The place where God dwells. Where his presence is known. Where his nearness is felt. And the domain of his power. The execution of his authority. The government of his righteousness.

The psalmist is looking for this place. He wants to go there. Then in the fullness of time, in a person, God sends it all here. The presence and kingship come in a baby. A horn sprouts for David. Jesus is God with us (Matthew 1:22–23). And Jesus is the King (Matthew 2:5–6) — both of Israel and the nations (Matthew 2:11).

Don’t miss it, though. Psalm 132 isn’t really fulfilled in the Gospels. It’s more like a bullet straight to Revelation 21. The picture here is post-Golgotha. This horn of David will see his enemies clothed in shame (Psalm 132:18). He won’t be wearing a crown of thorns then.

And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb [the descendant of David]. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb . (Revelation 21:22–23; 22:16)

No longer will there by anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. (Revelation 21:3)

Here is the vision of ultimate Christmas merriment.

We know that Jesus has come and that he will come again. Christmas is the time to celebrate his birth and long for his return.

Originally posted at Desiring God

In Jesus, the LORD Is Our Shepherd

Psalms 23:1-2,

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.”

The beginning of Psalm 23 sounds a lot different from the beginning of Psalm 22.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1)
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1)

Both are psalms of David placed beside each other with a purpose. We are struck in Psalm 22 with a cry of desperation. We are soothed in Psalm 23 with a declaration of the Lord‘s sufficiency. As the reader, we are supposed to feel this contrast. We are supposed to read them together, walking with the voice of each verse, being led to a confidence in the Lord that declares “I shall not want.”

Real Affliction

So there is forsakenness in Psalm 22. It’s real. David has written, but the speaker is the Afflicted One — the one who is mocked in his suffering, the one who is surrounded by dogs (or Gentile soliders), the one whose hands and feet are pierced, whose garments are divided and for which lots are cast. This is Jesus on the cross (Matthew 27:35, 39, 46; John 19:23-24).

Psalm 22 gives us the voice of Messiah in his affliction. We read him and hear his prayers, almost like a proto-Gethsemane. And then David himself steps in to command our praise in Psalm 22:23. The Lord has heard the Afflicted One’s cry (v. 24). More than that, David tells us, “The afflicted shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the Lord!” (v. 26). David is now exulting in verse 27 — “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you.”

What the Empty Tomb Tells Us

From forsaken (22:1) to heard (22:24) to satisfied (v. 26) to worshiped by all the families of the nations (22:27). This is where Psalm 22 takes us. Now how did this happen? Here is where Psalm 23 comes in (and Psalm 24 soon after).

We know that Jesus was not ultimately forsaken. There’s an empty tomb to prove it. Even though he walked through the valley of the shadow of death, he was not left alone. He was not abandoned. In fact, on the third day he was raised. He was raised and declared to be the Son of God, given a name that is above every name. The Lord was his shepherd. He didn’t lack. That’s what the resurrection is saying.

The Same Shepherding Grace

And this is why we love Psalm 23. This is not a mere poem that’s appropriately recited at graveside services. This is the Messianic hope in God’s utter faithfulness, even through the shadows of death. The Lord is our shepherd and he never forsakes us. Never.

This is a confidence in the resurrection rooted in Jesus’ own victory over death. As the Father raised him, he will raise us, too (1 Corinthians 15:23). Because we are united to Jesus, the same shepherding grace exemplified in his victory is the same shepherding grace that will be exemplified in ours.

Read the original post at FighterVerses.com.

How We Are Not Moved: Jesus in Psalm 125

Psalm 125:1-2 —

Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion,
which cannot be moved, but abides forever.
As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
so the Lord surrounds his people,
from this time forth and forevermore.

Calvin on the meaning of this psalm,

"Although the world is subject to so many and so sudden changes as almost to put on a new face every moment, and although the faithful are mingled with and placed in the same external condition as others, yet their safety continues steadfast under the invincible protection of God." (Commentary on the Book of Psalms, vol. V, 90.)

Calvin is right. You could stop reading now and be good to go. But there is more here. If we were to flip through the surrounding pages we see that the superscript in Psalm 125 is repeated. In fact, Psalms 120–134 are all "Songs of Ascents." This refers to Israel’s "coming up" out of Babylonian captivity and sets the theme as Israel’s return from exile to Jerusalem. Each psalm shows us a little more.

Song of Ascents Rundown

Psalm 120 gives the exilic cry, "Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meschech, that I dwell among the tends of Kedar!" (v. 5). Then Psalm 121 reminds us that the Lord is our keeper, he’ll keep our going out and coming in (v. 8). Psalm 122 directs us to a restored Jerusalem as our hope and prayer (v. 5). This is to say, a Jerusalem under the kingship of Messiah (v. 6). Then Psalm 123 refines our hope — "our eyes look to the Lord our God." (v. 2). The Lord alone is our salvation. And Psalm 124 assures us of this by recounting Israel’s deliverance from Egypt (vv. 1-5). Psalm 125 interjects a vision of Jerusalem once more. Mount Zion (Jerusalem) is the picture of one who trusts in the Lord. This person, like Jerusalem, will not be moved but abides forever. Psalm 126 longs for this reality, "Restore our fortunes, O Lord!" (v. 4). Psalm 127 then configures our hope to the blessing of children. But it’s not just any children. This "Song of Ascents of Solomon" looks to the offspring of David. David’s son, Solomon, is still looking for the promised son. Psalm 128 envisions the flourishing of Jerusalem under the reign of David’s son. Psalm 129 is another snapshot of reality. Circumstances are bad for this exiled people, but the Lord is righteous and all who hate Zion will be put to shame (v. 5). Psalm 130 and 131 model what it means to have faith, calling for Israel to hope in the Lord (130:7; 131:3). Then Psalm 132 comes with the central message of the Songs of Ascents: The Lord made a promise to David to set one of his sons on the throne of Zion forever. This is one of the clearest pictures of Old Testament faith in Jesus. It’s followed in Psalm 133 with a picture of unity, a glorious implication of a reunited kingdom. And then Psalm 134 concludes that ordering our worship, "bless the Lord!"

So What About Psalm 125?

Calvin is right, remember? The circumstances of this world are volatile and crazy, but God’s people live under his invincible protection. But why? How? This is what the surrounding Songs of Ascents help us understand. Our hope in an abiding, protected, eternal Jerusalem is a hope in Messiah and his reign. God’s promise to David about Jesus included a dwelling place of peace — no disturbance, no violence (2 Samuel 7:10-11). But you don’t get a Jerusalem like that without a king like Jesus. That’s what Psalm 125 is getting at.

Mount Zion cannot be shaken because another mountain was. Actually, it was a hill, called Golgotha. Years after this psalm was written, one Friday afternoon, at about the ninth hour, this promised King died. Jesus Christ died for us, bearing the wrath we deserved. He suffered in our place, making atonement for our sins. The only reason the Lord can "surround his people from this time forth and forevermore" is because on that hill he didn’t surround his Son.

But this King would live forever. Yes, and after his thorns and cross came his throne and crown. Jesus conquered our sin in his death. Then he conquered death by his resurrection. And it’s because of this — and this alone — that we can go about our days under the Lord‘s invincible protection. The tomb is empty, Jesus reigns, and we cannot be moved.

(See the original post at FighterVerses.com)

I Want to Be a Tree Like That

The Messiah Jesus perfectly epitomizes the blessed man of Psalm 1 (see Psalm 21:6). He is the true King who delights in the Word and is set apart from all wickedness.

While this psalm is not primarily about us, we should remember that it was written for us. Jesus’ fulfillment of this blessed man doesn’t force us to hold these words at arm’s length. Instead, we embrace them. Because we are found in Christ, this picture of meditating on the word and all its benefits are presented as a gift to us—a gift for which we don’t deserve. And power to receive the gift of which we can’t generate.

Psalm 1:3-4 describes the Messiah and the one who in the Messiah delights in the Word as he does. The imagery is vivid—a tree residing by its life source, producing good for those around it, never stale or rusty. In fact, this man prosper-izes in all he does. The wicked are so different. They’re not planted, nor secure. They’re more like straw that is dominated by any gust of wind.

This imagery is used all throughout the Book of Psalms, thematic of the one who trusts in the LORD (Psalm 15:5; 17:5; 26:4-5, 12; 35:5; 65:4; 73:18-19; 75:10; 112:1, 7-8; 119:1). In Psalm 52:8 David declares himself to be “like a green olive tree,” in contrast with those who don’t take refuge in God. Psalm 92 echoes Psalm 1 in praise of God’s faithfulness:

The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green (vv. 12-14).

As we read and pray through this Book, the content of Psalm 1 doesn’t come off as a mechanical exercise we do in search of its payoff. The words of the Psalmist fill our hearts, the peace of abiding in Christ prevails, and we read Psalm 1 saying, “of course.”

________

Originally published at www.fighterverses.com.

Not Good, One Good, Our Good in This One

The Psalter speaks for us,

Indeed, I’m a fool. I’m not good and I’m certainly not that One described in Psalm 15:1-5. But the Messiah is that One and we partake of his goodness.

The language of this psalm takes off, soaring into the clouds and concluding with the Messiah’s unshakable trust in his own resurrection (Psalm 16:10). All together: We’re not good, there is One good, we’re good in that One.

His goodness we partake, his resurrection the firstfruits of our own, his presence pleasure forevermore.

Read the whole thing: Not Good, One Good, Our Good in This One.

An Old Word for a New Day—Exegetical Integrity and Theological Faithfulness

G. C. Berkouwer writes:

Admist many dangers, the conviction has gradually become stronger that the human character of Scripture is ont an accidental or peripheral condition of the Word of God but something that legitimately deserves our full attention…

The fear that the [human element] of the doctrine of Scripture implies a threat to and an historicizing of the authority of Scripture is really the result of an artificial view of revelation. Those who hold such a view deny that shifts and changes in the history of the church can originate from a better understanding of Holy Scripture. They forget that Scripture is written in human words and consequently offers men legitimate freedom to examine these words and try to understand them (Holy Scripture, 20).

Berkouwer’s insight does not mean that we receive the New Perspective on Paul or biological evolution as the newly-founded norm. But it does mean that we confront these issues exegetically and not merely dismiss them as novel.

We understand Holy Scripture better than believers who lived in the 1300s. This is not because the Bible has changed as if it were some document of undetermined meaning, but because the church has learned how to better understand the Bible’s determined meaning.

This must be the root of faithful theology. This stance has no bias but to be true to the nature of Holy Scripture. The Bible as the inscripturate revelation of God is nothing static. It is active with divine force to accomplish the will of God through the gospel in a new day. The Church is to read upon the shoulders of our earlier generations, being aided and helped but in no way enslaved by the light shed upon them.

“The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple” (Psalm 119:130).

Rend the Heavens and Come Down!

Note the Isaianic overtones in Psalm 144-146

Ps 144:5 Bow your heavens, O LORD, and come down!
Touch the mountains so that they smoke!

Isa 64:1 Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down,
that the mountains might quake at your presence

Psalms 146:5-9 Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD his God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, who keeps faith forever; who executes justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets the prisoners free; the LORD opens the eyes of the blind. The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous. The LORD watches over the sojourners; he upholds the widow and the fatherless, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.

Isaiah 61:1-3 The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified.

 

On Natural Theology: Psalm 19

Psalm 19:1-3

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.”

Two elements of nature are affirmed in these first three verses: 1) nature says something. This is emphatic: the heavens declare, the sky proclaims, speech is poured out and knowledge is revealed; 2) this revelation is universal in that its speech is discernable. The voice of creation cannot be not heard.

This seems to oppose my position that general revelation cannot interpret itself. How should we understand McGrath in light of Psalm 19 when he writes, “Nature can only exist; it has no mind to interpret, and no tongue to communicate that interpretation” (137).

No tongue to communicate? But Psalm 19 says that it pours out speech, everyday.[1] It is important to note that the remainder of the psalm takes the reader to meditate upon the particular revelation of the LORD in his word—his law, testimony, precepts, commandment, fear, and rules (vv. 7-10). The delight of the David is this testimony (v. 10, cf. Ps. 1:1-2). I think that such an emphasis and delight implies that the revelation of nature is subordinate to the word of God. Moreover, the passage even highlights the primacy of particular revelation by founding this particular revelation to be of the God who is supreme over all creation. David’s recognition of God in the natural world (i.e. Psalm 19:1-6) is the result of God illumining his mind by (and as) the inspired Holy Scripture (cf. Acts 4:25; 2 Peter 2:21; 2 Tim 3:16).


[1] Calvin writes, “Yet, in the first place, wherever you cast your eyes, there is no spot in the universe wherein you cannot discern at least some sparks of his glory. You cannot in one glance survey this most vast and beautiful system of the universe, in its wide expanse, without being completely overwhelmed by the boundless force of its brightness” (I.V.1).