Jeremy L. Berg

We’re on a steady incline up the great mountain that is Psalm 119, scaling the heights of God’s Law and the glimpsing the glory of his promises along the way. Each peak is 8 verses, so let’s tackle another this morning — Psalm 119:49-56.

Reading the Bible is kind of like watching a tennis match. Your neck gets sore turning left and right, back and forth, trying to keep your eye on the ball. Reading the Bible is not about looking right and left, but rather forwards and backwards. People of faith are called to a constant remembrance of God’s faithful deeds and promises made in the past, to give us hope in the present.

Likewise, Christians believe many of the future promises of the Coming Age have already come rushing into the present time through Christ and the Resurrection, giving us a foretaste of that heavenly banquet. We’re called to live here and now in light of the future reality that is not yet here in full. We have the Spirit as the deposit and first fruits of that coming Age, and we are commissioned to go about announcing to a world still under the dark “principalities and powers” (Eph. 6) that the rightful King of Kings has conquered, ascended to his throne, and will come again to consummate his Kingdom.

The Old Testament often has us looking backward in remembrance, trusting the ancient time-tested wisdom over new-fangled ideas and popular trends of the present. Much of the OT (especially wisdom literature) has a “conservative” bent, not in today’s political or moral sense but the sense of being disposed to retain and maintain what is established and is somewhat suspicious of innovation and change.

The Jesus-movement and New Testament vision, on the other hand, has more of a progressive bent, not in the current political definition or moral sense, but in the sense that Jesus’ Kingdom is pulling history forward into a new epoch, making a radical break with the status quo, subverting conventional wisdom and ethics, and even the traditions of the Jewish elders of the day. Jesus exposed and challenged the power-brokers and established ideas of his day, and paid the price for it.

So, Christians read the Bible looking backwards and forwards, cherishing the conventional wisdom of the past, and yet letting Christ’s “already-but not yet” Kingdom re-inform how we live out this ancient-future faith today.

This lengthy rabbit trail now behind us, we can join David back on the mountain as he keeps looking backwards to the past for the courage to keep pressing forward. (Next week, Holy Week, the world will join Jesus as he climbs Mount Calvary not looking backward, but forward to the Glory of the Coming Kingdom to keep his feet steady on the climb of all climbs.)

⁴⁹ Remember your word to your servant,
    for you have given me hope.
⁵⁰ My comfort in my suffering is this:
    Your promise preserves my life.

Where is your comfort in your suffering? If you’re like me, you find comfort in placing your hopes on the fact that this current pain has an expiration date, and the thought of future healing or resolution gives you hope. But what if that hoped for relief — whether physical, emotional, or circumstantial — doesn’t come. What if its terminal? What if the relationship is irreparably broken? What if your circumstances don’t improve? Where then is your hope?

David shows us that our hope is in God and our comfort in our suffering is the conviction that “[God’s] promise preserves [our] life.” That’s a hope and comfort that circumstances can’t shake!
⁵¹ The arrogant mock me unmercifully,
    but I do not turn from your law.
⁵² I remember, Lord, your ancient laws,
    and I find comfort in them.

Are your reactions to hostile people and cruel attacks on your character tied to your emotions? If someone sends a cruel text or spreads rumors around the office, do you respond based on what your feelings urge you to do? I hope not!

David’s reaction to those who “mock [him] unmercifully” is not to retaliate with rage and get even. No, his behavior and response to his persecutors is to “not turn from God’s Law.” Jesus will yank David and the rest of us forward up the mountain, and steepen the climb by urging us to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt 5:44) and then Paul: “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. . . . Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath… Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom 12).

Again, David’s comfort comes not from being right, avoiding insult, getting revenge, or satisfying justice; he finds more comfort in knowing he’s seeking to live according to God’s ancient wisdom and law.

⁵³ Indignation grips me because of the wicked,
    who have forsaken your law.

David says, “Indignation grips me.” I know the feeling well. People of faith who believe God has revealed his moral law and ethical standards look out at our cultural tailspin into moral confusion and an “anything-goes-as-long-as-its-consensual” ethical standard, and we find ourselves both weary and angry. Much of our frustration is justified.

But I hasten to remind people of faith that: 1) we shouldn’t expect pagans to behave like Christians, and we live in a post-Christian society where the number of observant, Biblically informed people is much smaller than we often realize. And 2) Christians are not called to stand as judges over the world; “its God’s job to judge, the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, and my job to love” (Billy Graham). Paul reminds Christians that our job is to worry about the moral purity within the church family: “What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside” (1 Cor. 5:12)? (I am constantly vigilant of this as most of my writings are “pastoral” in nature and are written to challenge those within the church, not unbelievers; and yet many of my pieces find their way into the larger world via Facebook and can come off judgmental to a casual unchurched passerby.)

So, Christian, let’s make it our habit to ask the Lord to transform our moral indignation toward “those sinners” into heartfelt compassion for “those lost sheep without a shepherd.” I believe this was the heart of Jesus who said, “I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent” (Luke 15:7). I haven’t spent much time around sheep, but in my limited experience they don’t tend to run toward a Shepherd who’s scowling and shouting at them in anger!

⁵⁴ Your decrees are the theme of my song
    wherever I lodge.
⁵⁵ In the night, Lord, I remember your name,
    that I may keep your law.
⁵⁶ This has been my practice:
    I obey your precepts.

Finally, we have two beautiful phrases here that strike a very contemporary chord. David declares “the theme of [his] song” and his heart’s true lodging place. Ahhhh! What powerfully evocative metaphors for the Christian life! What song or melody is your life singing? Is your soul’s melody swept up in the “unforced rhythms of grace” (Matt 11:28) that Jesus longs to sing into our ears? Or is your inner being a heavy-metal mosh-pit of violent crashing and thrashing and screaming and yelling? The theme of David’s life-song is summed up in obedience to God’s Word — the entirety of Psalm 119 is literally the lyrics and theme of his song!

If God’s Word is the theme of David’s song, then where is his place of lodging or “home” — you know, the front porch he can return to at the end of a hard day to collapse into a rocking chair and rest his weary body while humming his songs of thanksgiving and praise?

Its a trick question. David wrote many of his psalms while on the run, in a cave or army tent, being chased by real enemies. His is a songbook for the pilgrim and sojourner, the displaced exile or the nomadic wanderer “with no place to lay his head” (Jesus).

But no follower of God is ever homeless, even if they don’t have a front porch and cozy lodging place to call their own. We find our rest in the company of the Lord, as we sing his song, remember his name and deeds, and find security behind the protective fence of his precepts. “This has been [David’s] practice.”

How about you? What’s your practice?