The Ascent E-Book

John Greco

• Herausgeber: BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 541

Beschreibung

Discover God's heart for you at the center of redemption's story. Brimming with poetry and praise, prayers and prophecy, the book of Psalms is an invitation to walk with God and experience his overwhelming love. As you journey through devotions for all 150 psalms, The Ascent • helps you get more out of your time in God's Word, • highlights important cultural and historical background information, • focuses on the big story the Bible tells from Genesis to Revelation, • embraces the seemingly weird or tough passages others avoid, and • uses a conversational manner to inspire, inform, and encourage. Be drawn deeper into the story of redemption, into your purpose as an image-bearer of God, and into the embrace of the Father who loves you.

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The Ascent: A Devotional Adventure through the Book of Psalms

Copyright © 2022 John Greco

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978-1-4245-6476-7 (e-book)

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Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®, copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked ESV are taken from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, a Division of Tyndale House Ministries. Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible, public domain.

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ENDORSEMENTS

I have read through the Psalms many times and yet never like this! John Greco’s reflections on each psalm brought new joy and life into these words I already love so much. He offers wisdom, context, and gospel-centered perspective. Greco earnestly points back to Jesus with each entry, all the while balancing an understanding of our humanness with the everlasting power of who God is. If you are looking for an intriguing way to read through the Psalms, this book is for you. A must read!

Maria Furlough Author, Breaking the Fear Cycle and Confident Moms, Confident Daughters

As a Bible geek like John, I thought I knew the Psalms fairly well. But delving into the riches that are contained in this book turned me into a hungry learner. These devotionals will enrich your mind, warm your heart, and inspire your spirit.

Bill Delvaux Founder, Landmark Journey Ministries; Author, Heroic: The Surprising Path to True Manhood

Although the book of Psalms can be overly familiar terrain for many, in The Ascent John Greco guides us up a mountain of sorts to view the Psalms with fresh perspective. Greco highlights connections to other portions of Scripture to help the reader feel the heartbeat of God.

Anna Nash Director, Beacon People; Co-author, Christmas Matters: How the Birth of Jesus Makes a Difference Every Day and Easter Matters: How the Resurrection of Jesus Changes You

Fresh, honest, and insightful, The Ascent is like taking a tour with a wise and encouraging friend. Even if you’ve read the Psalms a hundred times, John will show you things you’ve never seen before.

Len Woods Author, 101 Important Words of the Bible and 101 Important Words about Jesus

DEDICATION

For Luke. You are the blessing I didn’t know I needed. I love you. I pray your life will be a sweet song of praise in the ears of our King.

Contents

A Word of Introduction

A Note to the Reader

Psalm 1: Behold! The Mumbling Tree

Psalm 2: How to Kiss the King

Psalm 3: God’s Dental Plan

Psalm 4: Enemies Like Me

Psalm 5: God’s Welcome Mat

Psalm 6: Where Worship Goes to Die

Psalm 7: Equal-Opportunity Curses

Psalm 8: When We Shine Like Stars

Psalm 9: Jesus Is for Losers

Psalm 10: The Patient Love of God

Psalm 11: God’s Love-Hate Relationship

Psalm 12: The Missing Liner Notes

Psalm 13: The Known Known

Psalm 14: When You Know What You’re Made Of

Psalm 15: Meeting with God on His Holy Mountain

Psalm 16: A Strategy of Satan

Psalm 17: Poking God in the Eye

Psalm 18: Bathroom Breaks and Clean Hands

Psalm 19: When the Sky Speaks

Psalm 20: The Trouble with Chariots

Psalm 21: The Blessings of the King

Psalm 22: The Cross-Shaped Psalm

Psalm 23: The Sheep and the Shepherd

Psalm 24: The Sea of Chaos and the River of Peace

Psalm 25: The Tether of Trust

Psalm 26: Faith to Stand

Psalm 27: No Trade-Off Necessary

Psalm 28: That Our Hands May Match His

Psalm 29: Why Should the Canaanites Have All the Good Music?

Psalm 30: Glory’s Eternal Weight

Psalm 31: The Father’s Hands

Psalm 32: The Collision of Justice and Mercy

Psalm 33: An Old Tower and a New People

Psalm 34: The Bones of the Righteous

Psalm 35: Betrayal’s Worst-Case Scenario

Psalm 36: When Light Illuminates Light

Psalm 37: The Promise of the Promised Land

Psalm 38: When God Shoots You with Arrows

Psalm 39: Yard Work and the Discipline of God

Psalm 40: A New Song and an Old One

Psalm 41: What Judas Received from Jesus

Psalm 42: You Can Lead a Deer to Water

Psalm 43: Bringing Takeout to God’s House

Psalm 44: When God Takes a Nap

Psalm 45: Jesus, the Wedding-Song Crasher

Psalm 46: Riverfront Real Estate

Psalm 47: The Claps and Shouts of Losers

Psalm 48: A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

Psalm 49: When the Book Comes to an End

Psalm 50: The God Who Is Just Like Us

Psalm 51: Standing in Awe of the Mercy of God

Psalm 52: The Tree God Cares For

Psalm 53: The Rerun We Need

Psalm 54: What’s in a Name?

Psalm 55: Ancient Judgments and Future Mercies

Psalm 56: Our Recordkeeping God

Psalm 57: Saved to Sing

Psalm 58: What We See When We See Injustice

Psalm 59: The Bigger Picture

Psalm 60: In the Hands of God

Psalm 61: The King of the King

Psalm 62: The Ground Beneath Us

Psalm 63: Those Who Hunger and Thirst

Psalm 64: Where to Lodge Our Complaints

Psalm 65: A Spark of Hope

Psalm 66: Have You Heard?

Psalm 67: The Shiny, Happy Blessing

Psalm 68: When Paul Changed the Words of This Psalm

Psalm 69: The New Testament’s Buffet

Psalm 70: Why Wait?

Psalm 71: When Faith Grows Old

Psalm 72: What Makes a True Leader

Psalm 73: The Green-Eyed Monster That Bites Your Face Off

Psalm 74: The Deeper Magic

Psalm 75: Horns against Heaven

Psalm 76: Our Local God

Psalm 77: Stuck in a Moment

Psalm 78: God’s Open Invitation

Psalm 79: On the Other Side of the End

Psalm 80: Better Than a Do-Over

Psalm 81: The Confident Joy of Remembering

Psalm 82: The Psalm They Don’t Teach in Sunday School

Psalm 83: The Good Old Days (When Death Surrounded Us on All Sides)

Psalm 84: The Life of God

Psalm 85: What We Really Want

Psalm 86: To Judge or Be Judged

Psalm 87: The City of God

Psalm 88: A Psalm without a Happy Ending (Yet)

Psalm 89: God’s Promises Are Bigger Than They Appear

Psalm 90: So That the Earth Won’t Swallow Us Whole

Psalm 91: The Promise of Angels

Psalm 92: Worship and the Sabbath We Need

Psalm 93: In Support of the Coming Theocracy

Psalm 94: The God Who Sees—and Loves Anyway

Psalm 95: The Rest of God

Psalm 96: The Rocks Got There First

Psalm 97: Scared of God?

Psalm 98: The Clarity of Coming Judgment

Psalm 99: Calling Out His Name

Psalm 100: What Will Bring Us All Together

Psalm 101: How a Pharisee Is Made

Psalm 102: The Long String of History

Psalm 103: A Promise That’s Hard to Believe

Psalm 104: Here Be Dragons

Psalm 105: Promises Kept

Psalm 106: Connected but Not Condemned

Psalm 107: The Lost Tribes of Israel and the God Who Finds Them

Psalm 108: When You Can’t Find the Words to Say

Psalm 109: The Trial to End All Trials

Psalm 110: God’s Fingerprints on the Page

Psalm 111: To Love the Fear of the Lord, Part 1

Psalm 112: To Love the Fear of the Lord, Part 2

Psalm 113: A Preview of the Coming Goodness

Psalm 114: The God Water Molecules Obey

Psalm 115: Idols of the Living God

Psalm 116: Exchanging Gifts with God

Psalm 117: The Biggest Little Chapter in the Bible

Psalm 118: God’s Construction Project

Psalm 119: The Longest Psalm (That’s Not Long Enough)

Psalm 120: There’s No Place Like Home

Psalm 121: Ancient Travel Insurance

Psalm 122: Praying for the Peace of Jerusalem and…

Psalm 123: A Kingdom of Slaves

Psalm 124: If the Lord Had Not Been on Our Side…

Psalm 125: The City That Cannot Be Shaken

Psalm 126: Waking Up to a Miracle

Psalm 127: The Lopsided Partnership

Psalm 128: Jesus Loves the Little Children

Psalm 129: A Generation Who Remembers

Psalm 130: From the Depths

Psalm 131: Proud to Be Humble

Psalm 132: A Collision of Desires

Psalm 133: Friendship Oil

Psalm 134: Late Night Worship

Psalm 135: Garden Warfare

Psalm 136: The Blood That Washes across Time and Space

Psalm 137: The Joy That Pierces Sorrow

Psalm 138: Heaven’s Eyes

Psalm 139: Exposed and Loved

Psalm 140: Where the Battle Lines Fall

Psalm 141: A Friend Who Will Strike You

Psalm 142: Our Only Hope

Psalm 143: God’s Love Comes First

Psalm 144: The God Who Is with Us and for Whom We Wait

Psalm 145: The Song We All Get to Sing

Psalm 146: Help!

Psalm 147: The God of the Small Things

Psalm 148: Creation’s Song

Psalm 149: Unbridled Praise and Unsheathed Swords

Psalm 150: For All Who Breathe

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Endnotes

A WORD OF INTRODUCTION

The plan was simple. I would read a single psalm each morning while the house was still quiet, before the kids came downstairs and demanded cereal and sippy cups and help with their latest Lego creations. As I read, I would pray and see what the Lord had for me, making note of what grabbed my attention, what struck me as odd, or what prompted questions in my heart. I would then write down my thoughts, knowing that further reading, reflection, and study would be required to bring all the loose strands together. After a few weeks, I realized what I was writing might be helpful to other people, so I began doing my work in the Psalms with fellow travelers in mind.

Why the Psalms? The book of Psalms is the Bible’s creamy, gooey center. It was the songbook of ancient Israel and the early church, and it stands today as a reservoir of life-giving truth for all who thirst. The poetry of praise and petition fill its pages, offering us the prayers we need when we can’t seem to find our own words.

More beautiful than the ocean at sunset and twice as deep, the Psalms look back on Israel’s history but also ahead to Jesus. With equal clarity, these worship songs offer us insight into the human soul and a peek into the heavenly realms. My hope is that as you read, you’ll feel yourself being drawn deeper into the story of redemption, deeper into your purpose as an image bearer of God, and deeper into the embrace of the Father who loves you.

A NOTE TO THE READER

When a psalm’s title in our English Bibles indicates “A psalm of David” or the like, that doesn’t necessarily mean David wrote the psalm. In Hebrew, that phrase can also be translated “A psalm about David” or “A psalm for David.” However, this devotional follows the traditional practice of assuming Davidic authorship if the title of the psalm names him or a New Testament author does so when quoting or alluding to a passage.

PSALM 1

Behold! The Mumbling Tree

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” Robert Frost once wrote. If you know the poem, you know he took the one less traveled. It made all the difference.

As it turns out, Frost wrote the poem as something of a joke for a friend who was routinely indecisive about the paths they should take as they walked together in the forest. But in Scripture, the split path is anything but trivial, and each time it comes up, the Holy Spirit beckons us to take the one that leads to our true home in the presence of God, less traveled though it may be.

This fork in the road is as old as creation itself, and it was choosing the wrong bend that brought a curse upon our world to begin with. But the road diverges again and again, and each time the Spirit of God calls his people to embrace the love of their Creator.

The road diverged when Joshua told the Israelites, “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD” (Joshua 24:15). It forked again when Elijah warned the people atop Mount Carmel, “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him” (1 Kings 18:21). And it split when Jesus laid the choice down plainly: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it” (Matthew 7:13).

Here in Psalm 1, the two roads take center stage—“the way of the righteous” versus “the way of the wicked” (v. 6). The Lord watches over the one, while the other leads to destruction. The choice is obvious, but it is not easy. It never is.

Years ago, when I would read this psalm, I wasn’t able to see Jesus in it. It seemed to me these verses could be at home in any religion’s holy book. “Choose good, not evil, and you’ll be blessed,” they appeared to say. But that’s karma, not the gospel. These days, however, I can hear God speaking to me through these ancient words, the Spirit pleading with me to choose the good way.

The person who follows the path of righteousness—the path of God—meditates on the commandments of the Lord day and night (v. 2) not because memorizing rules will earn anyone anything but because the laws of God reveal his beautiful heart, bit by bit. Each one is like a clue to the greatest treasure imaginable. The law is not the point; God is.

To meditate is literally “to mumble,” as if God’s Word could become stuck in a person’s mouth and remain there to be chewed on throughout the day. It’s savored with the passing of every breath and becomes a part of life’s rhythm, the soundtrack that never fades into the background.

This is not a description of a cultural Christian, of a sheep that’s forgotten what the Good Shepherd’s voice sounds like. This is not a picture of a mere Jesus fan. True disciples are made of stuff like this—this sort of continual devotion to God. These are people whom the Lord has radically changed, who are so committed to him that they need the sweet taste of his words on their lips all the time. Nothing else will do.

The psalmist sees such a person as “a tree planted by streams of water” (v. 3). Its roots go deep because the nearby streams feed them. Its trunk grows strong, and the winds that blow do not easily sway it. Drought poses no threat; it has what it needs to produce its fruit in season. It is a tree of life, a blessing to others, not unlike the original Tree of Life in the garden.

This psalm brings me both conviction and hope. It’s a reality check as I remember that I am often blown around by the storms that come my way; I am not yet the strong tree I hope to be someday. But it is also a reminder of God’s power, a power I have access to through the Holy Spirit. This psalm describes who I want to be, even as life forces me to recognize I am not yet there.

“Two roads diverged in a wood,” but I can’t stop staring at the trees, especially the one mumbling the words of God by that stream over there.

PSALM 2

How to Kiss the King

The second psalm may have been written by David for his son Solomon’s coronation, but David had more than Solomon in mind when he penned these words. He looked forward to a future King who would rule in Jerusalem from his throne. He would be the King of kings, the promised Messiah.

Those who lived the New Testament recognized this psalm as being all about Jesus. In the book of Acts, the disciples in Jerusalem saw the plot against God’s anointed in Psalm 2:2 as a reference to the death of Jesus at the hands of Herod, Pilate, and the Jewish religious leaders (Acts 4:25–27). And later, Paul saw the resurrection of Christ in God’s declaration, “You are my son; today I have become your father” (Psalm 2:7; Acts 13:32–33). Everything Jesus claimed about himself and his relationship to the Father was proven true—and with power (Romans 1:4). When he conquered the grave, he was shown to be the Son promised to David, the one who would sit upon his throne forever (2 Samuel 7:12–16).

Psalm 2:12 says, “Kiss his son, or he will be angry and your way will lead to your destruction.” In the ancient world, a kiss was a sign of dedication, allegiance, and loyalty. That’s why, for example, the people of Israel kissed the idols they worshiped (Hosea 13:2), and it’s why the prophet Samuel kissed Saul when he anointed him king (1 Samuel 10:1). But the idols were only cheap imitations of the true God, and all the kings of Israel and Judah were but fractured shadows of King Jesus, who alone deserves our undivided devotion.

The Gospels only record Jesus being kissed on two occasions. There was, of course, Judas’ kiss of betrayal, which echoes so very tragically as I read this psalm. Judas’ allegiance to Jesus was only pretend—a lie on the lips of a false friend—and his way did indeed lead to his own destruction.

But there was another kiss. Luke tells us about a time when Jesus was invited into the home of a Pharisee named Simon. While he was there, a notoriously sinful woman entered the house with an alabaster jar of perfume in her hands. She came up behind Jesus and began to weep. Since people reclined on the floor to eat in those days, her tears fell on the feet of the Lord. So, with her hair she cleaned them, and then she kissed the feet she found to be so precious, before pouring her perfume on them (Luke 7:36–38).

The kiss of the sinful woman, or rather the forgiven woman (Luke 7:48), is the sort of kiss Jesus wants, the only kiss fit for the true King. Anyone can kiss the Lord the way Judas did. Though our motives may be different from his, a kiss that is anything less than total devotion—of love and loyalty—is itself a betrayal. But the woman in Simon’s house recognized Jesus and the mercy he offered to sinners like her. She received his love, and it had begun to change her from the inside out. Her kiss was not out of obligation but was instead an overflow of what was bursting from her heart.

It’s almost as though David had this woman in mind when he wrote the final line of Psalm 2: “Blessed are all who take refuge in him” (v. 12). At the feet of her Savior, she found the perfect refuge from her past sins, her present shame, and her uncertain future—and she couldn’t help but kiss him in response.

PSALM 3

God’s Dental Plan

David was a man after God’s heart (1 Samuel 13:14; Acts 13:22), but he wasn’t a perfect man—not by a long shot. There was his sin with Bathsheba and his murder of Uriah, to be sure (see 2 Samuel 11), but there was something else that brought David low.

While he was generally a wise king, a brilliant military strategist, and a devoted follower of Yahweh, David was out of his element when it came to raising his own children. The Bible provides scant details about David as a father, but what it does tell us is heartbreaking.

Second Samuel 13 is one of the most difficult chapters in the Bible to read, and it was also one of the most difficult chapters in the life of Israel’s royal family. Fueled by lust and his own brokenness, David’s son Amnon raped David’s daughter Tamar.

David was furious (v. 21).

But that’s it. He was just furious; he apparently did nothing about it—nothing to hold Amnon accountable, nothing to provide justice for Tamar. Two years after Tamar’s innocence was taken from her, Amnon was still free and enjoying all the benefits that come with being a son of the king.

They say that when a leader refuses to wield his or her authority when needed, someone else will take charge. And that’s exactly what happened in David’s family. Since David failed to do something about the Amnon situation, Absalom, another of David’s sons, decided to take matters into his own hands. He lured Amnon away from the city under false pretenses and had him killed (2 Samuel 13:23–29).

The resulting rift between Absalom and David never quite healed after that. Eventually, Absalom led an all-out insurrection, gathering people who would support him as king in Jerusalem over his father, David. So many rallied behind Absalom that David and most of his closest allies had to flee the capital.

This is all prologue to Psalm 3, an emotional prayer in which David expresses his trust in God despite being on the run. It’s hard to read through the psalm without pausing at verse 7, with its vivid and somewhat shocking imagery: “Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.” So much for the man after God’s own heart, right? Jesus, who perfectly represented the Father (Hebrews 1:3), told us to love our enemies, not knock out their molars (Matthew 5:44).

Before we’re too hard on David, though, let’s remember that in this psalm, he’s put everything—absolutely everything—in the hands of God. He’s not going to break anyone’s teeth. He is leaving vengeance and his own deliverance to the Lord. That’s why he can lift his head high (v. 3). That’s why he can sleep at night (v. 5). That’s why he doesn’t have to fear the tens of thousands who are hunting him (v. 6). He’s given it all to God, even the breaking of teeth.

I don’t believe God wants us to pray that our enemies’ teeth would crack inside their mouths. That’s not something I can imagine Jesus doing. But I have a lot of grace for David. He didn’t have the gospel in its fullest expression. He didn’t have the Sermon on the Mount. And he didn’t have the example of Jesus who laid down his life and prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).

Yet, even with all that David didn’t have, Psalm 3 ends on a note that highlights the humility he found in his later years. I imagine much of this humility came from seeing how his own failings had affected his children. Though the psalm is a prayer for personal deliverance, David closes by asking, “May your blessing be on your people” (Psalm 3:8). Still in hiding, David is less concerned with his own safety and well-being; he wants God to bless the people of Israel, many of whom were, at that moment, supporting Absalom’s insurrection.

Concerning Absalom, David ordered his men to be gentle with him, to do everything they could to protect him (2 Samuel 18:5, 12). He did not want the young man dead, even though the situation would have justified such a response. When Joab, the commander of David’s army, killed Absalom, David wept and mourned, so much so that it disheartened his own troops (2 Samuel 19:1–6). Joab even accused David, saying, “You love those who hate you and hate those who love you” (v. 6). Joab may not have had the situation exactly right—there’s no indication that David hated his own supporters—but David did indeed love his enemy.

PSALM 4

Enemies Like Me

If reading a New Testament letter can be like listening in on one side of a conversation, reading some of the psalms can be like eavesdropping on the most intense moments of someone’s prayer life.

In Psalm 4, David doesn’t explain his situation. God already knows what it is. And as a Bible geek, I find that especially frustrating. I want to know exactly what David was dealing with. I want to understand the background of every phrase. I want to know who is distressing David. I want to look up the passages that reveal how God answered David’s prayers here in this psalm. But there are few clues to help me do that. Instead, I’m left with the raw petitions, stripped of their original context.

But I think that’s by design. This psalm can now be mine and yours. David’s words can apply to situations in our own lives in a way they simply couldn’t if they were tied to some specific episode in his journey.

As a lament, Psalm 4 is an invitation to deal honestly with the injustices and heartaches that come our way, to bring our troubles directly to God. But the psalm exists in three dimensions. First, there are the personal cries that emanate from the heart of David, the song’s author. Second, there is the prayer addressed to God: “Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God” (v. 1). But third, there’s a shift in the middle of the psalm where David speaks directly to those causing his angst (vv. 2–5): “How long will you people turn my glory into shame?” (v. 2, emphasis added).

In my most honest moments, I must admit I’m not sure where I see myself in this psalm. I want to be David—to be the “faithful servant” set apart by God (v. 3). Because of the Holy Spirit at work in me, I am his servant. This is true; it is who I am. But I must also confess there are times when I have caught myself chasing after delusions and lies (v. 2). I am a work in progress—still walking forward because of the grace of God.

So, I take David’s words seriously. I search my heart in silence. I offer the sacrifices of the righteous—the living sacrifice Paul spoke of in Romans 12:1. And, above all, I trust in the Lord (Psalm 4:4–5). At the same time, I know that Jesus fills up what is lacking in me. Therefore, with David I can say, “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety” (v. 8).

PSALM 5

God’s Welcome Mat

After David became king and set the capital of Israel in Jerusalem, he had the ark of the covenant moved to the city so that he could be near the presence of God. He did not, however, have the tabernacle brought to the capital city. The tabernacle—that portable temple God instructed Moses to build in the wilderness—along with its sacred furnishings, remained in Gibeon (see 1 Chronicles 16:39; 2 Chronicles 1:3). So, David had a special tent erected in Jerusalem to house the ark. There, David often went to worship.

In Psalm 5, David writes about the “house” of God. This house was neither the tabernacle left in Gibeon nor the temple that his son Solomon would build some years later. It appears that David considered God’s house to be the place where the Lord’s presence dwelled. In his day, it was in that simple tent he set up for the ark.1

David writes, “But I, by your great love, can come into your house” (Psalm 5:7). Knowing something about God’s house—the tabernacle and temple structures—this grabbed my attention. Both the wilderness tabernacle and the later temples had three basic sections: an outer courtyard, the holy place inside, and, beyond that, the most holy place. Only priests and Levites were permitted inside the temple proper, the holy place (2 Chronicles 23:6). The most holy place, where the ark itself was kept, was even more exclusive. There, only the high priest was permitted, and then only on the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16:1–17). Everyone else had to remain in the outer courtyard.

David was not from Aaron’s line, nor was he a Levite. He was from the tribe of Judah, a decidedly non-priestly line (Hebrews 7:14). Yet, here in Psalm 5, David says he can come into God’s house. Second Samuel 7:18 actually says, “King David went in and sat before the LORD.” The image is of David entering the tent he’s constructed and sitting in front of the ark.

Scripture also says that David offered sacrifices to God (2 Samuel 6:17). That’s very priestly—and the very thing King Saul before him was not permitted to do (1 Samuel 13:8–14). In addition, he wore an ephod, which was part of the priestly uniform (2 Samuel 6:14; see also Exodus 28:6–14). Plus, we’re told that some of David’s sons served as priests (2 Samuel 18:8) and that Solomon followed in his dad’s footsteps, also offering sacrifices to God (1 Kings 8:63–64).

David and his line are somehow unique. It’s not that David actually became a priest at some point, nor is it that his sons were true Levitical priests in the strictest sense. Instead, it’s that David and his sons performed some priestly duties as members of the royal household in Jerusalem. David, being the King in Jerusalem (something Saul never was), is following in the tradition of Melchizedek (Genesis 14:18–20), the priest-king of Salem (what Jerusalem was called in Abraham’s time). He is foreshadowing the ministry of Jesus, who would be both King and High Priest in the order of Melchizedek (Psalm 110:4; Hebrews 7:1–22).

In Christ, you and I are part of a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). We bear the same status as King David. And we, too, are invited into God’s house to sit before him, to talk with him, to worship him.

It’s God’s presence that makes all the difference. David says to God, “Evil people are not welcome” (Psalm 5:4), and “The arrogant cannot stand in your presence” (v. 5). On the other hand, the righteous are blessed because “you surround them with your favor as with a shield” (v. 12).

There is no temple today. We have no need of one. Christians are both corporately and individually a temple of God’s Spirit (1 Corinthians 3:16–17; 6:19). God’s house is now within us. We no longer need to enter a tent to draw near to the Lord; we are with him every minute of every day—and we have every blessing that goes with such a privilege.

PSALM 6

Where Worship Goes to Die

The author of Ecclesiastes, likely Solomon, wrote, “All share a common destiny—the righteous and the wicked, the good and the bad, the clean and the unclean, those who offer sacrifices and those who do not” (Ecclesiastes 9:2). Death is the great leveler. No one escapes him. But death is also unnatural, a foreign invader in our world.

Death was never supposed to be part of human experience. God designed us as everlasting creatures to dwell in his presence forever and ever. But when sin entered our world, death followed closely behind. Now, we cannot remember a time when death did not stalk us.

In death, the enemies of God believe they have won a victory. That is because, as David says here in Psalm 6, “Among the dead no one proclaims your name. Who praises you from the grave?” (v. 5). That is the great tragedy of death—not separation from our loved ones, not the end of earthly comforts and joys (though those things are heartbreaking), but the silencing of worship that belongs to God.

Back in Genesis, God made Adam “to work…and take care of” the garden of Eden. That was the purpose for which humanity was created. As mundane as that sounds, it was anything but ordinary. The Hebrew words translated “work” and “take care” in the NIV are the same words used later to describe the activity of the priests and Levites who served in the temple (Numbers 3:7–8; 8:25–26; 18:5–6; 1 Chronicles 23:32; Ezekiel 44:14). Their work was worship—and as children of Adam, it is ours too.

God also made human beings as his image bearers (Genesis 1:27), people who reflect the glory of God. Bearing God’s image is itself an act of worship, a way of ascribing to God the glory due his name, shouting it to creation and to one another through the lives we live.

Either way you slice it, worship is our purpose. Death is the great tyrant for the sadness it brings but also, and chiefly, because it puts an end to the work of worship God gave us to do. Or so God’s enemies thought.

The Hebrew word translated “grave” in Psalm 6:5 is Sheol, which refers to the realm of the dead in ancient Near Eastern thought. It was believed to be a place beneath the earth—watery caverns removed from the life of God. Sheol was the destination of both the righteous and the wicked until the day of judgment.

No one was exempt from Sheol, and so God’s people recognized they needed the Lord to rescue them, and they believed he would be faithful to do so (Psalm 49:15). Paul could later write with confidence that “to be away from the body” is to be “at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). But heaven is not our final hope. God’s plan all along had been to undo the power of death through bodily resurrection. That’s why, if you know where to look, you’ll find seeds of this hope scattered throughout the Old Testament (e.g., Job 19:25–27; Psalm 16:10; Daniel 12:2). And when Jesus rose from the grave on Easter morning, never to die again, the curse of death was lifted. “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55; see also Hosea 13:14).

Toward the end of Psalm 6, after pouring the anguish of his heart out to God, David could write, “The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer” (v. 9). Because God is so good, I have no doubt that David is, right now, worshiping before the Lord, the purpose for which he was made. He is very much alive, awaiting the day that his body will be resurrected and he will walk this earth once again with worship still on his lips.

PSALM 7

Equal-Opportunity Curses

At his concerts, Keith Green used to say, “Sin is fun to get, but it’s like sugar-coated, long-acting cyanide!”2 Because God is just, he will not let the guilty go unpunished. There is coming a day of judgment and reckoning, but God does not typically act in the moment to pay someone for the wrongs they’ve just committed (though see Acts 5:1–11). The fun of sin usually comes quickly, but the cyanide often takes a while to reach its full effect.

We don’t know the situation that inspired Psalm 7. The title of the psalm mentions someone named Cush from the tribe of Benjamin, but the biblical record does not mention him elsewhere, so we don’t know what his beef with David was. What we do know is that it was serious. David asks God to rescue him (v. 1), and he compares his pursuers to lions, ready to “rip [him] to pieces” (v. 2).

In his prayer, David maintains his innocence in the matter, telling God, “If I have done this and there is guilt on my hands—if I have repaid my ally with evil or without cause robbed my foe—then let my enemy pursue and overtake me; let him trample my life to the ground and make me sleep in the dust” (Psalm 7:3–5). David is invoking the idea that his righteousness (or lack of it) will be proven by God’s response to the situation.

Knowing something of David’s character before the Lord from the rest of Scripture, I have little doubt that he is telling the truth about his part in the situation with Cush, whatever it may be. It is no small thing to invoke God as your witness. God knows all and sees all. You can’t put one over on him.

David’s words here in Psalm 7 remind me of Simon Peter, another person who invoked heaven as a witness—except he was as guilty as the day is long. Matthew and Mark tell us that when Peter was denying he ever knew Jesus, “he began to call down curses, and he swore,…‘I don’t know the man!’” (Matthew 26:74).

Thankfully for Peter, God didn’t respond to his curses in the moment. Instead, he allowed Peter to feel the poisonous effects of his sin as he heard about Jesus’ continued trial, torture, and death on a cross. The torment of his own sin must have been as painful as any lightning bolt from the sky he might have brought down upon himself that night in the high priest’s courtyard.

Peter didn’t need to call down curses from heaven. And David didn’t need to appeal to God as a witness to his innocence. All of us are guilty like Peter. Even David isn’t truly innocent. There is a curse already hanging over this world—there was no need to call for one. For those of us who know Jesus, though, that curse has already fallen. It has come down hard. But the punishment we deserve fell on Christ, crushing the righteous instead of the wicked (Ecclesiastes 8:14).

David finishes his prayer, saying, “I will give thanks to the LORD because of his righteousness; I will sing the praises of the name of the LORD Most High” (Psalm 7:17). God’s righteousness is better than anything we could ever have come up with on our own. Because of the cross, God’s great righteousness is also his great mercy.

PSALM 8

When We Shine Like Stars

When people in the ancient Near East looked up at the night sky, they didn’t merely see the moon and stars, planets and comets—they saw the heavenly host, a cast of gods shining down on the earth in supernatural glory. That is why God forbade the people of Israel from bowing down to worship “the sun, the moon and the stars—all the heavenly array” (Deuteronomy 4:19).

But the Bible doesn’t discount the idea that there is a heavenly host; it actually reinforces it. There are the sons of God (Genesis 6:2; Job 1:6), watchers (Daniel 4:13), cherubim (Genesis 3:24), seraphim (Isaiah 6:2), angels (Genesis 19:1; Hebrews 13:2), and at least one archangel (Jude 9). What the Bible reveals is different from the pantheons of pagan religious systems: there is only one uncreated and eternal triune God with a capital G—but there are lesser spiritual beings in the heavenly realms who are sometimes also called gods.

In Psalm 8, David considers the heavens—“the moon and the stars”—and then wonders at God’s care for human beings (vv. 3–4). When we understand that David is not talking about a chunk of rock orbiting the earth and distant balls of flaming gas, his logic begins to make sense.

The heavenly host who have remained faithful to God reveal his glory (v. 1), and they do it well—just as they were created to do. But you and I fall short (Romans 3:23). We, too, were made to reflect God’s glory. That’s what our calling to bear his image was all about (see Genesis 1:27). But in our sin, none of us reflect the glory of God as we should. So, Jesus came to set things right.

Scripture tells us, “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3). Jesus bears God’s image and reveals his glory perfectly, and one day, so will all who know him: “And just as we have borne the image of the earthly man, so shall we bear the image of the heavenly man” (1 Corinthians 15:49). We become more like Christ each day as we walk by his Spirit, but when he returns, we will be transformed, glorified, and made like him (1 Corinthians 15:42–44; 1 John 3:2).

But that is what will be.

David, in Psalm 8, meditates on our current reality. Right now, even though we have failed to live up to our task as his image bearers—even though we sin and rebel and sometimes live as though God doesn’t even exist—he has “crowned [us] with glory and honor” (v. 5), and he has put everything in this world under our dominion (vv. 6–8). God has been awfully good to us.

We have been made “a little lower than the angels” (v. 5) but only for a time. We will, one day, join with the heavenly host in reflecting God’s glory as we should. And when we do, we will “shine like the brightness of the heavens,…like the stars for ever and ever” (Daniel 12:3), and we’ll join with David in marveling, “LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Psalm 8:1, 9).

PSALM 9

Jesus Is for Losers

Jesus is for losers. As I study the Bible, this idea hits me in the face again and again. The Lord is on the side of the beaten down, the poor, the disenfranchised, the sick, the lame, the lost, and the hated. He is for all the people who are losing the game of life. He is concerned with the people you and I are thinking about when we say to ourselves, “At least I’m not like that guy.”

In the ancient world, the trouble of the oppressed was often doubled because it was believed that the gods determined a person’s lot in life and therefore the person deserved what he got. Though pagan deities could be fickle at times, generally speaking, a person’s power and prosperity were signs of the gods’ blessing, while sickness and need were seen as righteous judgments.

Even among those who trusted Yahweh, this basic system of divine justice was part of the thinking. Consider Job’s friends. They saw Job’s tremendous suffering and concluded, almost instantly, that Job’s troubles were the result of some great sin in his life. Or consider Jesus’ disciples. When they encountered a man born blind, their question was, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2).

It’s not hard to see how this sort of thinking kept creeping into the cultural conscience. After all, a prominent biblical principle states that people reap what they sow (Job 4:8; Proverbs 22:8; Galatians 6:8). But it doesn’t follow that every moment of suffering is payback for sin.

God is just. Here in Psalm 9, David emphasizes this truth: “He rules the world in righteousness and judges the peoples with equity” (v. 8). In the next breath, however, he can say, “The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble” (v. 9). Even as he is the perfect judge, he is on the side of the weak and vulnerable, the ones who have been trampled by the brokenness of this world.

So why doesn’t God act to rid the world of injustice? It’s because he loves sin-sick people and because, right now, justice is jumbled. The oppressors are often those who have faced oppression. The fatherless often grow up without knowing right from wrong or caring much about the difference. Abusers are sometimes people who have themselves been abused. This reality doesn’t excuse sin—wrong is wrong—but it does help to illuminate God’s heart on the subject.

When Jesus saw Zacchaeus, he didn’t just see a tax collector who ripped people off; he also saw a man who had grown so spiritually sick that he could justify taking from his own neighbors to enrich himself (Luke 19:1–10). When he saw the woman at the well, he didn’t just see a Samaritan embroiled in scandal; he saw a woman who had been emotionally battered and bruised by a string of broken relationships (John 4:1–26). And when he saw the criminal on the cross next to him, Jesus didn’t just see a lawbreaker sentenced to die; he saw a spark of faith and kindness (Luke 23:32–43).

“Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you” (Psalm 9:10). Until the day he returns to judge the nations, Jesus stands with the losers—the poor, the oppressed, the trampled. And the truth is, we’re all losers. Blessed are those of us who know it, or as Jesus himself put it, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3).

PSALM 10

The Patient Love of God

“Why, LORD, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1). I’ve asked these questions before. My words may have been slightly different, but I felt the same hole in my gut. When we have endured harsh or unjust treatment, we want God to move, to act on our behalf, and if he doesn’t, it can feel like he’s abandoned us.

But God is never really gone.

What the apostle Paul told those gathered at the Areopagus in Athens is true: “He is not far from any one of us” (Acts 17:27). That is good news for the hurting and the broken, even as we wait for the day when God will make all things new (Revelation 21:5).

The waiting itself can be the hardest part, but we are not alone in our sadness and in our desire to see God move. The book of Revelation includes a heavenly scene in which saints who have lost their lives for the sake of the gospel cry out with one voice, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” (Revelation 6:10). This can quickly become the daily refrain of all who’ve suffered loss: “How long, Sovereign Lord? How long?”

While we wait, those who treat others cruelly and with indifference imagine there is no day of reckoning coming. “He says to himself, ‘Nothing will ever shake me.’ He swears, ‘No one will ever do me harm’” (Psalm 10:6). Neither statement is true. Whether in this life or the next, judgment is coming.

But how long?

God has an answer for those martyred saints gathered under the altar in heaven. He has an answer for the arrogant and wicked who imagine there is no God. He has an answer for you and me: “They were told to wait a little while longer” (Revelation 6:11). In a little while, Jesus will return. In a little while, the kingdom of God will come in its fullness. In a little while, this world will be made right.

God could wipe away the wicked in an instant. So why doesn’t he? It’s because every saint is formed from a wicked person who has died to his or her sin. The humble were once proud. The peacemakers were once murderers. The generous were once gluttons. The faithful were once adulterous. But when judgment day comes, the time to turn to God will be over.

The psalmist pleads with God, “Arise, LORD! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless” (Psalm 10:12). God will arise. There is coming a day when God will make everything right. Light will no longer mingle with darkness. Sin will no longer be tolerated. But we must wait just a little while longer. Rest assured, “the Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

PSALM 11

God’s Love-Hate Relationship

I want to say, “God hates the sin but loves the sinner,” but Psalm 11 won’t let me do that. In verse 5, Scripture says plainly, “The wicked, those who love violence, he hates with a passion.” God hates wicked people, not just their wickedness. There’s no amount of theological or grammatical kung fu that will change the meaning of this verse.

We’ve seen this sort of thing once already. In Psalm 5, David says to God, “You hate all who do wrong” (v. 5). Just in case we were tempted to limit “the wicked” in Psalm 11 specifically to those who love violence, Psalm 5 widens the playing field. Simply put, God hates sinners.

So, how do we square these statements (and others in the Psalms) about God’s hatred of sinners with what we read elsewhere:

Love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. (Luke 6:35 ESV)

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)

It won’t do to talk about the New Testament somehow superseding the Old Testament. God does not change. We cannot discount one set of passages in favor of others. All of Scripture is God’s Word. And as we’ve already seen, we cannot change the meaning of these hatred verses into something more palatable, like the nonsense about God hating the sin and loving the sinner.

We have no choice but to take all of Scripture for what it says and what it means to say: God hates sinners. He hates when the men and women he created, acting from their own moral free agency, choose what is contrary to his character. He hates liars, cheaters, thieves, murderers, adulterers, blasphemers, idolaters, and a thousand other varieties of sinner alike. As Psalm 5:5 tells us, God hates all who do wrong.

At the same time, God chooses to love those he hates. He is patient with sinners (2 Peter 3:9). He causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust alike (Matthew 5:45). He sustains his creation for those who love him and for those who don’t (Job 38–39). And he gave his Son to save sinners (Romans 8:32).

In his hatred of sinners, God has determined a day when the world will be judged (Acts 17:31). But in his love for those same sinners, he gave his Son to die on a cross in their place (Romans 5:6). So, yes, we should affirm that God hates sinners and that God loves sinners. Both are true.

“For the LORD is righteous, he loves justice; the upright will see his face” (Psalm 11:7). And because of God’s love and the blood of Jesus, even the worst sinner can be made upright.

PSALM 12

The Missing Liner Notes

This may date me, but I miss holding an actual CD in my hands. Streaming music, while insanely convenient, just isn’t the same. When it’s an album that means a lot to me, I like having something tangible to hold on to.

Not too long ago, I tried to stream an album by one of my favorite artists only to discover my streaming service of choice did not have that particular record in its library. It was as if it had been erased, like it never existed. I may or may not have pulled my car over to the side of the road and immediately ordered a copy of the CD off eBay.

Among things I miss most about CDs—or tapes or records—are the liner notes. On those pages are the lyrics, who wrote each song, who performed on each track, and the artist’s thank-yous. The best liner notes tell you about the heart behind the songs or the situation from which they were born. That little booklet tucked inside the CD case is a connection point, a way of going deeper with an artist and his or her music. Many, many times, a song that fell flat to my ears on the first listen came alive after reading the liner notes.

Words matter. They have the power to change our hearts and our minds. They can lead us into a beautiful new experience or down the path of trouble. Words change the world, for better or worse, whether it’s Mein Kampf, the Emancipation Proclamation, Martin Luther’s The Ninety-Five Theses, or the book of Romans. But not all words get such press.

Most of the words changing our world happen without wide circulation or airtime. They’re the words we speak to each other. In Psalm 12, David laments that “no one is faithful anymore” (v. 1). He elaborates by saying, “Everyone lies to their neighbor; they flatter with their lips but harbor deception in their hearts” (v. 2). The damage is widespread, but it still spreads from door to door.

Reading David’s description, I couldn’t help but think of social media. Most people (I hope) don’t lie outright on their Instagram and Facebook feeds, but it’s very tempting to only post the perfectly timed vacation photos, the proud-parent moments, and the “brave” statements of support for trending social causes, the ones sure to generate likes and shares. In this temptation, we also tempt our neighbors to do likewise or to covet the things we appear to have. Once again, the damage is widespread, but it still spreads from door to door.

But there is One whose word we can always trust because “the words of the LORD are flawless, like silver purified in a crucible, like gold refined seven times” (v. 6). Though it’s not a perfect analogy, in a sense Scripture gives us God’s liner notes, a behind-the-scenes look at his heart. And because God’s words are trustworthy and true, they can become our guide for all other conversations.

Like David, we, too, are living in a time “when what is vile is honored by the human race” (v. 8). It seems that now more than ever before, we need the Bible and the Spirit of God at work within us to help us sort out the truth from the lies.

PSALM 13

The Known Known

In a press briefing in 2002, former US Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was asked about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. His response became somewhat iconic:

Reports that say that something hasn’t happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don’t know we don’t know. And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tend to be the difficult ones.3

Although it’s a little bit of a tongue twister to use Rumsfeld’s categories, his logic applies to areas well beyond national defense. We all proceed in life with limited knowledge, doing our best to work with what we’ve got. And Rumsfeld is right—it’s the unknown unknowns that tend to throw us for a loop.

Psalm 13 is short, comprising only six verses. David spends the first four complaining about an unnamed enemy who would like to see him dead and God’s apparent inaction on his behalf. But then a shift occurs in verse 5. David stops looking around at his situation and looks to the Lord, remembering the known known that is always true: God’s unfailing love.

There are still unknowns. David doesn’t know what will happen next. He doesn’t know if his pursuer will catch up with him. He doesn’t know if the end of his life is close at hand. But he does know that God has been good to him (v. 6), which leads him to trust this known known about God’s character above everything else.

That’s what faith is—trusting God, not in spite of what we can’t see but because of what we can see: his character, what he has done in the past, and what he has promised to do in the future. Faith is not a leap in the dark; it is confidence in God, based on his Word. It is facing the unknowns because of the known.

David doesn’t know if or how God will rescue him from his current predicament. But it doesn’t really matter in the end. He has the love of God, and no bloodthirsty nemesis can change that. So David, even in the midst of a terrible situation, can rightly say, “I will sing the LORD’s praises” (v. 6). He is not alone in this privilege. As his children, no matter what surrounds us, God’s unfailing love does as well.

PSALM 14

When You Know What You’re Made Of

Crushed bugs. Believe it or not, that was the reason Starbucks had to change the recipe for one of its most popular drinks back in 2012.

Starbucks has always been known for more than just the taste of their coffee. They also pride themselves on their presentation. Everything they serve looks great (especially when the barista does that cool milk swirl thing on the surface of your latte). But as it turns out, the company achieved the brilliant red color of its Strawberry Crème Frappuccino using a dye made from the pulverized remains of insects.

Of course, people eat bugs in many parts of the world. From what I’ve heard, they’re actually a good source of protein. But I don’t know if I’d have ordered a Frappuccino from Starbucks if I had known it contained the broken remains of dead bugs, no matter how pretty it looked or delicious it tasted. Maybe that’s just me.

This example is just one of many that show it matters what a thing is made of. About human beings, the Bible says: “They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good…All have turned away, all have become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one” (Psalm 14:1, 3). Some of us may look pretty good on the outside, but deep within and swimming throughout, it’s all crushed bugs.

Paul picks up these verses in his letter to the churches in Rome (Romans 3:9–20). He uses them (and a few other choice passages) to make the case that Jews and gentiles alike are all rotten to the core. No one seeks God, and no one does good. That is why the only thing that matters is Christ. The gospel is good news for everyone because it is the only message with the power to save people as lost and hopeless as this.