When was the last time you were thirsty? For me, it was when I sat down to write this sermon, started thinking about being thirsty, and suddenly, my mouth went dry, and all I could think of was a nice cup of tea or glass of water. (Could it be that when you think of thirsting and then you are thirsty, in the same way you think of yawning, and then all you can do is yawn, even if you aren’t tired? Hopefully you won’t all start yawning now!)
Just think of when you were thirsty. It might have been after a hard day’s work on the farm or in the garden. You might have been playing a game outside. Maybe you’ve been going round the shops getting things for going back to school, and then you need to get a drink. Being thirsty means you need water, because you don’t have it. That’s the picture in the opening verses of Psalm 42 - of a deer being thirsty, panting for flowing streams, thirsty after being chased.
Just as that deer is thirsty for water, in the same way, the writer of the Psalm is thirsty - but not for water. Rather, he is thirsty for God. ‘As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.’ If you’ve ever been thirsty for water, I wonder have you ever been thirsty for God?
If thirst for water is because you’re dry and don’t have it, then thirst for God is because we don’t have him, aren’t experiencing him. Have you ever had dry times in your faith? Have you ever felt that longing for God?
Now, maybe you’re thinking to yourself - this being thirsty for God must only be for people who aren’t Christians. Only non-Christians would have this thirst, because they don’t know God, and so they’re searching, desperate, like a man lost in a desert, searching for water. But Psalms 42 & 43 are the experience of a believer. And even if you can’t get your head around that, even if you think that couldn’t be you, because your Christian life is always abounding, always joyful, listen up - you never know when you might need this word from the Lord. And if you do recognise yourself in this situation, you’re longing, thirsty for God, then let’s see how we can hold on in hope.
In these opening verses, the thirst is great; his need is deep. ‘When shall I come and appear before God?’ He’s thirsty for God, but his tears are his food. It’s as if he sits down to breakfast, and the tears flow from his eyes to his mouth. What’s for lunch? More tears. Dinner? Tears. And it’s made worse as other people ask, ‘Where is your God?’ Not once or twice, but all the time. And if it’s not bad enough, verse 4, he remembers when things were different:
‘These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng (the crowd) and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival.’ He looks back and remembers how things used to be - he was one of the worship leaders; he was a musician, a singer, in the choir, in the thick of it, leading God’s people in praise. But now he’s far away, thirsting, longing for God.
Perhaps you look back to when things were different. You remember a time when you were involved in lots of things, and now you’re on the fringes, or even further away. You felt so near to God, but now, so distant. Where is he?
Up to now, the writer has been speaking to God. But now, he speaks to someone else. Not anyone around him. But himself. I wonder do you talk to yourself? Don’t be afraid to say yes - you see, whether we realise it or not, we’re always talking to ourselves. There’s always some sort of conversation going on. Whether it’s worries being recycled and repeated on and one; or you’re wondering how you’re feeling; or processing what someone said to you or about you; or psyching yourself up to get out of bed or make that awkward phonecall.
So here, the writer asks himself: ‘Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?’ And you think - you already know! You’ve already said why! But do you see how he gives himself a good talking to? ‘Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.’ He turns the focus from himself and his own problems, and instead turns his focus on God. He’s preaching to himself, reminding himself of the gospel, encouraging himself based on God’s promises. (Just as we were encouraged to do last week to one another from Psalm 95/ Heb 3).
Sometimes, though, we might think that if we pray about something once, then it’ll all be sorted and solved instantly. But the Psalm continues. And in this second section, the pain almost seems to get worse. His soul is cast down, ‘therefore I remember you from...’ He feels distant from God. ‘from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.’ On the service sheet we have a map - Hermon is where the Jordan river begins up at the top, and down further is Jerusalem, about 120 miles away (further than here to Dublin). He’s separated from the temple, and from God.
God seems to have forgotten him; the enemy keeps oppressing him. their taunts are like a deadly wound. They keep asking, ‘Where is your God?’ What the writer experiences physically, being so far from Jerusalem, we can also experience spiritually. It seems as if God is so distant.
And it’s even more painful because of how he describes God. He’s the LORD who commands his steadfast love by day; the God of his life whose song is with him. God is ‘my rock.’ Even these great and glorious things about God can seem like a burden, when God is silent and distant.
So once again, the writer talks to himself. Again, he asks why he’s cast down. Again he tells himself to hope in God, that one day he will praise him, because he is ‘my salvation and my God.’ Don’t give up, even when prayers seem to go unanswered. Keep talking to yourself. Hold on in there!
When we get to the third section, in Psalm 43, the cry becomes even more desperate. Here the call is for vindication - for God to act and defend his cause. If you were accused of doing something wrong, then someone came forward and showed that you hadn’t done anything wrong, then you would be vindicated. You would be in the clear.
The writer wants God to intervene and demonstrate his power. You see, even in the darkest moments, the writer never loses his trust. Even when things are going against him and God seems distant, he still continues to call to God. It’s the very nature of this Psalm, isn’t it, a cry to God?
In verses 3 and 4 of Psalm 43, the writer calls for resolution: ‘Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling! Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy, and I will praise you with the lyre, O God, my God.’
He recognises that God must act; that only God can bring him back and satisfy his thirst. He asks for God’s light and truth to lead him and bring him, and cause him to praise. It’s precisely what he needs - light for the path (being so far away), and truth (surrounded by the enemy’s lies).
It’s what we need as well - whether we’re far from God because we’ve never really known God before, and we’re still wandering far from him; or whether we’ve been a Christian for a long time, and yet, things have slipped, we’ve found ourselves far away, lost our joy. What we need us for God to send his light and truth - or rather, the one who is the light of the world, the one who is the way and the truth and the life - Jesus, the one who brings us near to God, brings us into God’s family and causes us to worship.
And as these Psalms finish, there comes the chorus again. As he continues to pray, so he continues to talk to himself as well. He repeats the exact same words, but sometimes that’s exactly what we need - we hold on to a promise, to a commitment, like a dog with a bone, not letting go, holding on for dear life.
If you had a friend who was discouraged, you would hopefully draw alongside them and gently remind them of the hope of the gospel in Jesus. So why not do it to yourself? Talk to yourself in the best possible way. Remind yourself of the gospel as you preach to yourself. It’s as we do this that we find that hope, which brings us to praise him, our salvation and our God.
Our thirst for God is only satisfied when we come to the one who says in John 7 ‘If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’
This sermon was preached in Aghavea Parish Church on Sunday 21st August 2016.
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