Sunday, March 22, 2020

Sermon: Psalms 42 & 43 Hoping in God


Father, we ask that your word would speak to us now, that it would bring hope to all who are downcast and disturbed, that it would lead us to praise you, our Saviour and our God. Amen.

There are many parts of our service today that are strange - the fact that you’re watching at home being the major one. But another strangeness is the lack of singing. It seems so odd to not sing together. No doubt when we gather together again properly, we’ll be overjoyed to sing together!

It’s from a song that you probably know the opening lines of Psalm 42: ‘As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after you.’ Don’t worry, I’m not going to sing it for you. But that opening line expresses the sense of longing, the sense of desperation felt by the writer in verses 1-2:

‘As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?’

I’m sure you’ve been thirsty as some point in your life. Maybe you’ve been playing games, running about, and then, you’re parched, desperate for water. Or you’ve been hard at work, and the thirst is on you.

But have you been thirsty for God? Have you been so desperate to have him, to know him, to be with him, that it’s a thirst? That’s what Psalms 42&43 are all about. A deep longing for God.

And it has come about because the writer of the Psalm finds himself far away from God. It’s not social distancing that he’s undergoing, but he feels himself to be in isolation, unable to come near to meet with God. Perhaps you’re experiencing something similar today. You would love to be here in church, with the rest of the church family, meeting with God together.

We see how hard it is for him in verses 3-4:

‘My tears have been my food day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
These things I remember as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God,
with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.’

His tears have been his food, day and night - they trickle down his cheek and into his mouth. He’s sad, disappointed, distressed. And it’s made even worse by other people saying to him: ‘Where is your God?”

Perhaps you’ve seen similar going round social media. People asking - where’s God in all this? Asking - if God is so good, then why did he let this happen? Asking - if God is so great, why doesn’t he stop it and cure everybody straight away? Where is your God?

Now as if his tears and his tormentors aren’t bad enough, his distress is deepened as he remembers how things used to be. At the top of the Psalm we’re told it was written by ‘the Sons of Korah.’ They were worship leaders in the temple, and he remembers better times, going with the multitude, worshipping together; leading God’s people with shouts of joy and thanksgiving. He remembers, and it causes him pain, because he’s not there now. He’s cut off, isolated. Does it sound familiar?

In verse 5, we get the first of a repeated refrain, which is found twice in Psalm 42 and again at the end of Psalm 43. In the refrain, the writer is talking to himself, encouraging himself in his distress:

‘Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Saviour and my God.’

He recognises that he is downcast and disturbed. In a recent phrase, it’s ok to not be ok. But then he reminds himself of where he can turn; he connects himself to the one who brings hope. Even in the midst of difficulties, he will put his hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God. It’s hard now, but hope looks to the future; and waits for our Saviour God.

Yet even as he puts his hope in God, he still finds himself downcast. In verse 6, he is still far away from God’s temple. He mentions the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon, Mount Mizar - the place where the river Jordan begins. It’s about 111 miles or so, but for this son of Korah, that’s a fair distance.

And with the image of waterfalls, waves and breakers, he feels overwhelmed, as they sweep over him. And yet he hears the call of God in the waterfalls - deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls.

And even though he is physically distant, he knows that God is with him in verse 8:

‘By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me -
a prayer to the God of my life.’

Even if you’re by yourself, or if you’re self-isolating as a family, the LORD is with you by day and night, directing his love to you, and singing over you as you sing to him. No matter where you find yourself, God is with you, and God hears your prayer.

And notice in verse 9, that God doesn’t just hear our easy prayers. He also hears when we challenge him, and complain to him. Lament is part of our language of prayer - and that’s what we find in verses 9 and 10:

‘I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”’

The men of verse 3 have become the foes of verse 10. And the question remains - where is your God? Has God forgotten him? Does God not care that he’s going through all this? Has God abandoned him?

By no means! The writer continues to talk to himself, as he resolves to put his hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God.

Now, we’ve come to the end of Psalm 42, but as you can see, Psalm 43 continues it and completes it, leading to the last repeated refrain in verse 5.

The writer pleads for vindication in God’s sight - and in the face of an ungodly nation, and deceitful and wicked men. He longs for rescue, yet still experiences rejection. And so he asks God to intervene, to launch a rescue mission:

‘Send forth your light and your truth,
let them guide me;
let them bring me to your holy mountain,
to the place where you dwell.
Then will I go to the altar of God,
to God, my joy and delight.
I will praise you with the harp,
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 for his path, and God’s truth, surrounded by the enemy’s lies. And he wants to be brought back, in order to praise God in his dwelling.

As we’ve heard these Psalms today, we’ve heard the voice of the sons of Korah. And perhaps we’ve heard our own voice, echoing this longing for God. But there’s another voice that we can hear as we listen in to these Psalms. We can be brought near to God, because God is our Saviour and our God.

And the Lord Jesus took these words upon his lips, and experienced this deep longing in order to be our Saviour. In the Garden of Gethsemane, as the shadow of the cross loomed large before him, he says to his disciples: ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.’ (Matt 26:38).

He would be let down by his closest friends; betrayed and abandoned. His enemies would taunt him as he hung on the cross: ‘He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him...’ Where is your God? He was forgotten and rejected - truly isolated and let alone.

And yet Jesus fully trusted the Father’s plan. He endured the cross, because he knew that vindication would come. He endured the cross, because he knew that God would be glorified. He endured the cross, in order to be our Saviour and our God.

Are you thirsty today? The Lord Jesus has stood in our place. He has opened the way home; and comes to bring us to himself - the light of the world, the way the truth and the life. And he is with you today, and every day, as you put your hope in him.

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Saviour and my God.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church on Sunday morning 22nd March 2020 for the broadcast service during the COVID-19 pandemic.

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