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.

Harvest Sermon: Psalm 65 The Lord of the Harvest

Which is your favourite harvest hymn? Over the course of the weekend, we’ve sung a good number of harvest hymns, and I hope that at some point we’ve sung one of your favourites. If not, then let me know on the way out and we’ll try to include it next year. (Or you can sing a verse of it after the tea next door! No, don’t worry, we’ll not make you do that; you can safely come in for tea!)

The harvest season has its own section in the hymnbook, with lots of hymns written to sing primarily at harvest services. Some, like: ‘Come, ye thankful people. come’ - help us to call one another to worship. Others, like ‘Good is the Lord’ help us to remind one another of God’s goodness to us. But some harvest hymns are addressed directly to God - our last hymn does that: ‘God, whose farm is all creation, take the gratitude we give.’

Our Psalm tonight, Psalm 65, is a harvest song, addressed directly to God. In the closing verses, we see the abundance of God’s goodness in the harvest, with grasslands and hills, meadows and valleys all surveyed and celebrated. But before you get your wellies on to get out and explore the whole harvest, David begins closer to his home, in Zion itself.

In verses 1-4, we see that God is the God of Zion. So where is Zion? Zion is another name for the city of Jerusalem, the city God had chosen to be the place where his name would dwell, in the temple that would be built by David’s son, Solomon. And we’re see that God is the God of Zion:

‘Praise awaits you, O God, in Zion;
to you our vows will be fulfilled.
O you who hear prayer,
to you all men will come.’ (1-2)

The God of Zion is worthy to be praised. And praise awaits him - it’s coming his way. His people have promised that they will indeed praise him. They have made vows to him, and their vows will be fulfilled. Nothing will keep them back or stop them from praising God.

All of them are going to come to God. And do you see how God is described there? ‘O you who hear prayer.’ God is the one who hears prayer. No matter how weak we may be, no matter how faint our faith may be, no matter how quiet our prayer may be - God hears it. And God has heard their prayer, and their vows, and has answered.

And the prayer that God has heard and answered in this instance is one of confession. Look at verse 3:

‘When we were overwhelmed by sins,
you forgave our transgressions.’ (3)

Have you ever felt like that? Sometimes we are quite happy with our sins, we play with them, get comfortable with them. But here, they were overwhelmed by them, they were despairing in their sinfulness, weighed down by the sinfulness of sin. But they had cried for mercy - and God, who hears prayer, forgave our transgressions.

And as they experience the joy of sins forgiven, they also experience the full measure of God’s grace. You see, God doesn’t just wipe away our sins and give us a blank slate so that we’re back to neutral. God is amazingly generous in giving us his grace, and bringing us into relationship with him:

‘Blessed are those you choose
and bring near to live in your courts!
We are filled with the good things of your house,
of your holy temple.’ (4)

God doesn’t just forgive our sins and then leave us in isolation. He brings us to himself, to be with him, to live with him. When we trust him, we are given a new identity and a new address - we are ‘in Christ.’ It’s no wonder that we are called to praise the God of Zion.

God is not just the God of Zion, though. He is the God of the whole world, in fact, the whole universe. That’s what we see in the next section of the Psalm. God is the God of the whole earth:

‘You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness,
O God our Saviour,
the hope of all the ends of the earth
and of the farthest seas.’ (5)

God hears our prayers, and he answers them - with awesome deeds of righteousness. God acts entirely in line with his character to save, and to act righteously. And he is the only God who saves, the only hope of the whole world. There are many other so-called gods (with a small g), and many religions, but the only hope of the world is in the one, true, living God. He is the God who made everything, and controls everything, and calms everything:

‘who formed the mountains by your power,
having armed yourself with strength,
who stilled the roaring of the seas,
the roaring of their waves,
and the turmoil of the nations.’ (6-7)

The mountains, which seem so strong and sure, are in place because God put them there by his strength. The seas, which to the Israelite were dangerous and fearsome because they were constantly in motion, well, only God can still the seas (with a word!); and only he can still the turmoil of the nations.

It feels as if we’re living in the middle of the turmoil of the nations at present, doesn’t it? Like the sea, we’re back and forward and here and there and we don’t really know what the outcome will be or where we’ll end up politically and economically and morally. But God can still the turmoil of the nations. He can grant peace - as we put our hope in him who is the hope of all the ends of the earth.

Did you notice the contrast between those who are near to God (4), and those who are far away? It’s mentioned again in verse 8:

‘Those living far away fear your wonders;
where morning dawns and evening fades
you call forth songs of joy.’

The picture is of people living far away from Zion; people in other nations, who do not know the Lord. They see the wonders of God - snow and hail, thunder and lightning, ferocious winds and hurricanes, earthquakes and all - and they fear. But through his creation, God is calling out to them, telling them that there is a God; calling them to praise, even where the morning dawns and the evening fades, in the farthest east and west.

It’s in Jesus that those who were far away are now brought near. Jesus died to bring peace with God, and with one another; by bringing us into God’s family, and building us into God’s temple. And that’s what God has done, and is doing, for us. We, who live where David would have imagined the evening faded, so far west we are, yet here we sing songs of joy because we have been saved, by putting our trust in the hope of all the earth.

The God of Zion is the God of the whole earth. And he is the God of harvest. While we acknowledge the hard work of farmers, particularly in difficult and dangerous circumstances, the farmers couldn’t do what they do without God’s oversight and provision:

‘You care for the land and water it;
you enrich it abundantly.
The streams of God are filled with water
to provide the people with corn,
for so you have ordained it.
You drench its furrows
and level its ridges;
you soften it with showers
and bless its crops.’ (9-10)

God is the one who provides the water to grow the crops that we need to survive. Without the water, the crops wouldn’t grow. And so this Psalm recognises God’s vital role in producing any kind of a harvest.

But this isn’t just any kind of a harvest. This isn’t even a Marks and Spencer harvest. This is God’s good harvest, where he provides so richly:

‘You crown the year with your bounty,
and your carts overflow with abundance.’ (11)

Bounty (not the chocolate bar) and abundance - the crown of the whole year, the cherry on top; with so much, in fact, that as the carts take in the produce, they are overflowing. And that’s the picture across the countryside:

‘The grasslands of the desert overflow;
the hills are clothed with gladness.
The meadows are covered with flocks
and the valleys are mantled with corn;
they shout for joy and sing.’ (12-13)

It’s like an episode of Countryfile. Everywhere you look, there is abundance and plenty. The hills and valleys have been clothed, mantled - in their new season’s fashion; they’ve got dressed up and are ready to shout and sing for joy. The God of the harvest is gracious and generous - in his provision of plenty in the fields; in his power over all creation; and in his providing for the forgiveness of sins.

If even the valleys shout for joy and sing, will you give him your praise?

This sermon was preached at the Harvest Thanksgiving Service in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 6th October 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 145 An A-Z of Praise

Tonight we are celebrating the 60th anniversary of St Matthew’s Bowling Club. We acknowledge the vision and hard work of all those who founded the club back in 1959; and the ongoing dedication and commitment of all those who have been involved in the club ever since; especially those who lead the club, organising matches and teams and tournaments and practices and everything else that goes into making St Matthew’s Bowling Club all that it is today. And it is right and proper that we gather tonight to give thanks to God, for our Bowling Club, and for all his blessings to us.

To help us to give God our thanks and praise, we’re going to focus in on Psalm 145, our Bible reading. (p. 631). We’re told in the little heading that it is ‘A psalm of praise. Of David.’ (superscription). David is singing his song of praise. It starts out as a solo performance, but he wants everyone to join in with him. So let’s listen in, as we prepare to sing along with him.

You can see that it starts off as a solo performance because the the first two verses are all ‘I’. This is what David is going to do. And what is he going to do? ‘I will exalt you, my God the King; I will praise your name for ever and ever. Every day I will praise you and extol your name for ever and ever.’ (1-2)

David is going to praise God. All those words - exalt, praise, extol - they’re all about praising; praising ‘you, my God the King.’ King David is praising his King - God, who rules over all. And when is he going to do this? Every day, and for ever and ever. He’s committed to doing it - he says, ‘I will, I will, I will.’ (I’m reminded of Mrs Doyle, the housekeeper in Father Ted offering a cup of tea - you will, you will, you will...) David says I will praise God, I will praise God every day for ever.

But that raises the question - why will you praise God every day for ever? Why praise? It’s not immediately obvious to us reading it in English, but in the Hebrew, this Psalm is written as an acrostic - each verse starts with the next letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It’s an A-Z of praise, and it tells us why we should praise. And it breaks down into four sections, each of which tell us something about God the King. Here’s the first: The LORD is great.

‘Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise;
his greatness no one can fathom.’ (3)

God is not just great, but he is so great that you can’t even measure his greatness. As great as you think God is, he is actually even greater. We just can’t get our heads around it. But we are to get our tongues speaking of it, telling the next generation about how great God is.

When bowlers get together, the chat will inevitably roll round to talking about the really good players you’ve played against. And how do you know a player is good, or great? It’s by the way they play; what they’ve done, or what they’ve won. So we see and know that God is great because of what he has done.

One generation will tell the next generation about God’s works, his mighty acts, the glorious splendour of his majesty, the power of his awesome works, and his abundant goodness. These mighty acts include the way that God rescued the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt through the Passover Lamb; and brought them into the promised land.

But supremely for us, the Lord’s mighty acts focus in on the cross, where Jesus died to save us. Just think of how we have come to hear about the Lord Jesus. one generation told another generation, and another generation, until we got to hear the good news of the gospel ourselves. And it shouldn’t stop with us! When we know the greatness of the Lord, we need to pass it on to the next generation.

So God is great. But he’s not only great, he is also gracious. That is, God is overflowing in loving-kindness towards us. Verse 8 is found in quite a few places in the Bible, a short summary of what God is like:

‘The LORD is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and rich in love.’

Jesus shows how God is gracious in the way that he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. (Matt 5:45) And just think of the many ways in which God is gracious towards us every day. He is good to all, he has compassion on all he has made.

And again, the idea is that when we know that God is gracious, we need to pass it on, we need to tell others the good news. As the saints, God’s people, extol God, so they tell of the glory of God’s kingdom, and speak of his might - and whats the purpose of this praise? ‘So that all men may know of your mighty acts and the glorious splendour of your kingdom.’ (11-12)

When we praise, we are spreading the news of God’s kingdom, telling people who don’t already know, so that they will know. God’s kingdom will endure for ever; and so we are inviting people to come under God’s kingship, to receive his saving grace.

We praise because God is great, and God is gracious. Next, we see that God is also faithful. The word ‘LORD’ in capital letters is the personal name God, who makes promises and keeps promises. And David spells that out in the second half of verse 13:

‘The LORD is faithful to all his promises
and loving towards all he has made.’

Sometimes we aren’t so good to keeping our promises. Just think how easily we make them, only to turn around and break them. I’ll give you a ring tomorrow. Don’t worry about that, I’ll sort it out. Give me a shout any time. We can so easily break our promises, but God is faithful to all his promises. He keeps every one he has made. You can depend on his word. But don’t just take my word for it. Look at what David says:

‘The LORD upholds all those who fall
and lifts up all who are bowed down.
The eyes of all look to you,
and you give them their food at the proper time.
You open your hand
and satisfy the desires of every living thing.’ (14-16)

We’re coming into harvest season, and we find that again God has kept the promise given to Noah that as long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest will not fail. We can depend on God, and depend on his word. He is faithful to his promises.

And finally, God is righteous. We find that in verse 17. ‘The LORD is righteous in all his ways and loving towards all he has made.’

To be righteous is to be in a right relationship with God. And so for God to be righteous, it means that he always acts in ways that are consistent with his character. He always does what is right. He never has a bad day; he never gets out of bed on the wrong side; he is always perfect in all he does, and is righteous in all his ways.

We see what this looks like in verses 18-20. ‘The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfils the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them. The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.’

To call on the LORD is to confess that we can’t do it by ourselves - that we need God’s help. It’s to say that God, you are righteous, but we are not; that we fall short in so many ways. It’s to experience that proper fear of the LORD - not a phobia type of scared fear, but a proper reverence and awe and respect for God who is great, and gracious, and faithful and righteous. To admit that we need God’s help.

And do you see the great promise of this Psalm? That when we call on him, he is near to us. He’s at hand to help; he hears, and he saves. He will hold us safe in the day when he destroys the wicked - all who mar his glorious creation; who persist in rebellion against him; who refuse his offer of grace and salvation.

Why does David praise? He praises because God is great, and gracious, and faithful and righteous. It’s no wonder that he returns to his opening idea as he brings the Psalm to a close in verse 21. ‘My mouth will speak in praise of the LORD.’ David is committed to praising.

But David wants us to join in with him, so that we also praise the LORD. The Psalm started as a solo, just David praising. Through the Psalm, we’ve heard hints of others joining in - one generation telling the next generation; those who know God’s glory telling those who don’t know - but now comes to climax, the prayer that is also an invitation, as David calls us to join in with his song of praise:

‘Let every creature praise his holy name for ever and ever.’ (21)

That’s your cue, now comes your part, it’s time to join in, and sing praise to the God who is great, and gracious, and faithful, and righteous. Take it away.

This sermon was preached at the St Matthew's Bowling Club 60th anniversary service in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 29th September 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 100 Why Worship?

I want to ask you a question, and the question is this: Why have you come to church tonight? And as I ask that question, there might be lots of different answers that you could give. Maybe it’s because you’re in church every Sunday, either here or somewhere else. It’s part of your regular routine. Or maybe you’re here because you were told that you had to come along tonight, whether you wanted to or not. Or you came because you wanted to see the Baptism, to be part of Harry’s special evening. So whether you’re here for some of those reasons or for some other reason, you are very welcome here tonight.

In each of our services we focus in on a particular reading from the Bible, and tonight our focus is on Psalm 100, which you’ll find on the service sheet. And in that Psalm, we find the answer to the question why we would want to come to church; why we would want to worship God.

But first, before we come to the ‘why’ of worship, we find the ‘what’ of worship. In verses 1-2 we are told what to do when we come to worship. Now, maybe you’re not used to the Church of Ireland, and you can’t get over how many times we stand up and sit down, but in those opening verses we’re told what to do:

‘Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.
Worship the LORD with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.’ (1-2)

Do you see the active words? Shout! Worship! Come before him! Now, we haven’t had much shouting already - maybe that will come when Harry is baptised. But it’s meant to be loud - and also joyful. It’s shout... for joy; worship... with gladness; coming before him ... with joyful songs. Sometimes Christians are thought of as the frozen chosen, as people who are miserable, and dour, but that shouldn’t be the case. We should be singing with joy and gladness - this is the what of worship.

And it’s all directed toward ‘the LORD’. When you see the word LORD in capital letters, it’s speaking of God as the one who makes promises and keeps his promises, the God who is always the same. So that’s who we worship - but did you notice who is meant to be doing the worshipping? The what is to shout and worship and sing joyfully; but who should worship? Is it just for a few people? Only men or only women? Only rich or only poor? Only older people or only young people and then you grow out of it? Only people in the UK or only people in Africa? Well, look again at verse 1: ‘Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.’

The call to worship goes out to everybody, to all the earth. As the first hymn put it: ‘All people that on earth do dwell.’ So if you live on earth, if you are alive tonight, then you are called to worship the LORD. You’re called to shout and sing with joy and gladness. Will you answer the call?

And why should you worship? We see that in verse 3:

‘Know that the LORD is God.
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.’

Why should we worship? Because God is God (and we are not). But notice that there’s another something we’re to do there - ‘know.’ We come to worship God because we know that God is God. And as we come to him, and sing to him, and worship him, we are reminding ourselves of how great God is. And how is he so great? Because he made us.

Tonight that’s obvious as we celebrate the birth and safe arrival of Harry. In another Psalm, king David talks about how God ‘knit me together in my mother’s womb.’ And so we rejoice in God’s gift of life, in the person that Harry is already and is becoming every day. God made us, and we are his (or as the footnote suggests, God made us, and not we ourselves.

God made each of us, has given us life and breath and everything else, and so we are God’s people. We are the sheep of his pasture, under his care and keeping. The Lord is our shepherd.

Do you see why we should worship? Because God is God, and has made us, given us life. That should be reason enough - the very fact of our existence should cause us to worship. But the Psalm doesn’t stop there. Rather, the why of worship leads to even more worship, to the what of worship all over again. Look at verse 4:

‘Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.’

It tells us to ‘enter’ his gates and his courts. This Psalm was written when the temple was in Jerusalem - the place where people came to worship God. But the temple doesn’t stand there any more; there’s just the wailing wall left of it. So does that mean we all have to go to Jerusalem? Or how does that work if there’s no temple any more?

The thing is, though, that God still has a temple on the earth; he has a dwelling place, but it isn’t made of brick or stone. Rather, it’s made up of people - people who love Jesus, who worship him and follow him. The church is the temple of God, the place where God dwells - not this building, but the people who meet inside. So for us to enter God’s gates and his courts is to be with other Christians, to join together in worship, to give thanks to God and to praise his name. To worship is to say ‘thank you’ and to praise God’s name - his character.

Later on in the service, I’ll use Harry’s name when I baptise him. And from here on, Harry will be getting a name for himself - he’ll be building some kind of reputation as he goes to nursery, and school, and work and whatever else he does in life. And people will know him - that Harry Harper one - they’ll know his name, his reputation, his character.

And when I baptise Harry, I’ll also use God’s name. Harry will baptised in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. And what is God’s reputation? His character? Why do we praise his name?

We see that in the last verse of the Psalm. Here’s the why of worship: ‘For the LORD is good and his love endures for ever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.’

We worship God because of who he is and what he is like. The LORD is good. All of the time. He doesn’t change, he is always the same, and always good. But more than that, his love endures for ever - it never runs out, it never stops, it never comes to an end. His love is constant towards us, and even higher and wider and deeper than your love for little Harry. The love that you have for him is like nothing compared to God’s love for you.

In fact, God loved you so much that he gave you Jesus, who came into the world to die on the cross for you; he came to open up the gates so that we can come to God. You see, our sins were a barrier, separating us from God. God is good, but we aren’t. But Jesus came to take away our sins, to bring us to God, to bring us home. And he did it because he loves us so much; with this love that endures for ever.

And because God is good, and he loves us, he is also faithful - he keeps his promises; he doesn’t change his mind. And his faithfulness continues through all generations.

It’s because we know who God is and what God is like that we can come to him in worship. It’s the reason why we meet every Sunday morning and Sunday evening here, and why Christians around the world worship Jesus. The question is: will you join us as we worship? Will you give your life to follow the Jesus who gave his life for you?

That is our prayer for Harry tonight - that he will grow up to know the goodness, love and faithfulness of the Lord Jesus, and that he will follow him all his days. And it’s our prayer for each of us gathered here, and for everyone in all the world - that you and they and everyone will worship as we shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth; because of the why of worship - God’s Godness, his goodness, his love and his faithfulness.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 25th August 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 24 Guess Who?

We’re coming towards the end of the summer holidays, and by this stage, the boys and girls might be glad to be going back to school, to have something to do! There are only so many exciting daytrips to do; and only so many really sunny days to be playing outside. So what do you do on a rainy day? If you manage to keep them off their computer games or iPad then you might resort to the old classic boardgames. At some point over the summer we’ve played Monopoly, Frustration, and the cardgame Uno. But there’s another classic game that I used to love to play: Guess Who.

You probably know how to play it, but just in case you don’t, here’s how it works. You have a lineup of people in front of you, and you’re trying to work out which of them the other player has on their card. So you have to ask yes or no questions to narrow it down and then, finally, to ‘guess who’ is on their card.

Now, I’ve brought it along today, because I thought it would be good to remind ourselves of how it works. But rather than just playing it on this little board - it would be too small for everyone to see what’s happening - I thought we could play real life Guess Who? So I need a volunteer.

I’ve got the name of someone on my card here, and I need you to ask me yes or no questions to see if you can guess who I’m thinking of. So, if you’re able, please stand up, until you’re eliminated.

[Play Guess Who?]

Well done! We started with the whole church, and after ... questions you were able to guess who it was. Now, why did we play that game this morning? It wasn’t just for a bit of fun, and something to fill in some time during the sermon. We played guess who because that’s what’s going on in the Psalm that we’re looking at today. If you look at Psalm 24 on your sheet (or p. 555 in the pew Bibles), you’ll see that the word ‘who’ comes up a whole lot of times.

Look at verse 3: ‘Who may ascend the hill of the LORD? Who may stand in his holy place?’

That’s the question the Psalm is asking today. Who is it that can come near to God? Who can stand in his holy place? Who is good enough for God? Can you guess who?

All over the world, people are trying to do just that, in all sorts of different ways. By following all sorts of religious rites and rituals, people are trying to be good enough for God - if I go on pilgrimage enough; or if I pray every day; or if I give enough; or if I fast from food enough. Perhaps you have a bargain with God - if I do this, then, God, will you accept me?

Or maybe, if you think you’re not good enough, then you have someone else in mind. I might not make it, but surely so and so would. They’re far better than I am. They’re good at being good. Someone like the Pope, or the Archbishop, or the Dalai Lama. The thing is, though, that our good isn’t good enough. Can you see what the answer to the guess who question is?

‘Who may ascend the hill of the LORD? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands...’ (3-4)

Imagine that we’re all standing again, in this new game of Guess Who. And the first requirement is clean hands. So have a look down - are your hands clean today? You’ve washed them after you’ve been to the bathroom. No obvious dirt on them? Have they been clean all week? Not involved in any wrongdoing? Never caused harm?

We might still stand for that, but what about the next bit? ‘He who has clean hands and a pure heart...’ We can see your hands, but we can’t see your heart. We can’t, but God can. He can see what’s on the inside - what we’ve been thinking about; what we’ve been dreaming about; what we focus on when no one else is around. And the truth is that none of our hearts are pure.

If it was guess who, then we’re all down and out. We don’t have a pure heart. We do lift up our souls to idols - by putting other things in the place that God deserves; and we do swear falsely. Everybody here today fails to meet the standard. None of us can, by ourselves, come near to God. And that’s true of everybody in the whole world, all 7.7billion of us. As we heard in our first reading: ‘If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O LORD, who could stand?’ (Ps 130:3)

We’re thinking about board games today, but for a moment, I wonder if you can remember the gameshow that used to be on TV - Bullseye. If the team failed to win the final round, and missed out on the mystery star prize, then Jim Bowen would have said: ‘Look at what you could have won!’ In verse 5 we see what was on offer for anyone who could come near to God:

‘He will receive blessing from the LORD and vindication from God his Saviour. Such is the generation of those who seek him, who seek your face, O God of Jacob.’

Blessing and vindication were on offer. But we can’t make it. We can’t do it. We can’t come near. But before we get too disappointed, the Psalm continues by asking ‘guess who’ all over again. The command comes in verse 7 to ‘Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.’

Someone is approaching; someone has fulfilled the entry requirements; someone does have clean hands and a pure heart. And it’s a bit like a knock knock joke. So verse 7 is the knock knock, and the answer comes in verse 8: ‘Who is this King of glory?’ Who’s there? Who is it?

‘The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.’ (8)

And then the sequence repeats again knock knock, who’s there? ‘The LORD Almighty - he is the King of glory.’ If you look closely, you’ll see that the word Lord is in capital letters. That’s the name for the promise-making, covenant-keeping God. And so we see that God himself has come down to earth, has become one of us, has lived the perfect life with clean hands and a pure heart, fully devoted to God, fully obedient to everything God required, and never spoke falsely. And his name is Jesus.

Who can come near to God? Who is the King of glory? It’s Jesus. He obeyed so fully that he died on the cross to take away our sins. All the things that disqualified us? Jesus has dealt with them. As Psalm 130 continues: ‘If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O LORD, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared.’ (Ps 130:3-4)

Jesus has opened up the gates of heaven so that we can join him there. The blessing and vindication that he has received from the Father is shared with us as well. And that’s what he offers to you today. Jesus has won the victory over sin and death and hell. And he invites you to join him in his holy place. You just need to ask him to forgive your sins, and to receive you in.

So who can come near to God? Who is good enough for God? Only Jesus - but he makes us good enough by cleansing our hands and our hearts, and sharing with us his blessing. Who will come to him today? Will you?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 25th August 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 95 Worship and Warning

A few years ago, I went on a stag do to do some go karting. As you can imagine, when fifteen fellas get together, there’s plenty of competition, lots of chat about who’s going to win. When the races started, I was more like someone out for a Sunday afternoon drive compared to some of the boy racers - some had even brought their own helmets and gear. But the thing that stood out that day was the time before the racing started. We were gathered in a wee room, and the owner gave us a short talk. First of all, he welcomed us and told us to have fun, but then came the second thing - the warnings. We watched a safety video, and had to sign the disclaimer, that if we were injured it would be our own fault. Welcome and warning, side-by-side.

It’s what we find in Psalm 95, in these very familiar words. There’s a welcome - a call to worship; and a warning, and you can’t have one without the other. So let’s dive in, to see how the welcome of worship of the warning of worship sit together. And first, the welcome.

I wonder if you’ve ever received a summons to serve on a jury? The letter arrives in the post, and you are obliged to turn up on the day, whether you want to or not. Is that how the opening words of verses 1 and 6 come across? ‘Come’. Here’s a summons, you have to do this, you have to come along to worship, whether you want to or not? Now, maybe some Sunday mornings or evenings it might feel like a struggle to get up, and you could think of a million and one other places to be. But that’s not the sense of the call to worship.

It’s more like a wedding invitation, a joyful welcome to come along, to be a part of something exciting, to be caught up in celebration. Come! And what is it we come to? Well, in Psalm 95 we have what I think of as a row of lettuces. You know that I’m not much of a gardener. The only thing I can grow is weeds. If I needed lettuce for salad sandwiches, I would buy it in the shop. But some of you are gardeners; you might even have a row of lettuces growing (if it’s the time of year for them - I don’t even know!). Do you see the row of lettuces here in Psalm 95? ‘Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation! Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song.’ (1-2)

There’s our row of lettuces. And there’s another mini row in verse 6 - ‘let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the LORD our Maker.’ Here’s the welcome to worship, as we come together to worship. In these words we’re not speaking to God, our eyes aren’t on heaven as such; our eyes are all around us, urging and encouraging one another to sing, to make a joyful noise, to give thanks.

It’s like a sports team coming together on the pitch, cheering one another on, encouraging each other. We’re to be doing the same - encouraging those around us as we sing out; or being encouraged when we don’t find it easy.

Now why would we want to come together to worship? Why should we praise with loud singing? We’re given the reason in verses 3-5. Do you see the ‘for’ at the start of verse 3? Here’s why: ‘For the LORD is the great God, the great King above all gods.’ As we encourage one another to worship, we recognise who God is - he is the great God, the God of gods, if you like. In fact, he’s the only God.

When Psalm 95 was written, the nations all around believed there were lots of gods and goddesses, each localised, each one in charge of something in particular. There would be the god of a mountain; of the sea; of a piece of land. Up on the north coast, there’s an example of this sort of pagan thinking. High above Magilligan Point, on the Bishop’s Road, stands a statue of Manannán mac Lir. He was believed to be the Celtic god of the sea, so if you were going on a sea journey, you would sacrifice to him, to keep him onside.

But Psalm 95 cuts through all that. The LORD is the great God, the great King above all gods. And here’s why (v4): ‘In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land.’ Our God rules over all, because he made everything, and holds it in his hands. Here’s the reason why we encourage one another to sing and make joyful noise!

Perhaps you came today feeling as if you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. As we sing, praise and give thanks to our God, we’re reminded that we don’t need to carry the weight of the world - our God holds it in his hands. He’s in control. He doesn’t need a hand to hold it - he can do it all by himself.

Now in verse 6, the pattern repeats - another welcome to worship, as we speak to and encourage one another to worship, followed by the reason why. But notice that this time round it’s quieter. In fact, there’s no noise at all, unless you count a creaky hip or the wee sigh as you get down... ‘Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the LORD our Maker’

You see, worship isn’t just loud singing. Worship is also bowing and kneeling before the LORD - recognising him as our God; submitting to him. And we do this together, urging one another to bow. Why would we surrender to him, bow before him, come humbly to him? Again, we have the reason, the ‘for’ - ‘For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.’

Even though God is great and glorious, reigning over all he has made, even so, he is not distant. He is our God, our shepherd king. He holds the world in his hand, and we are the flock under his hand, his care. He holds us as well.

So we have the call, the welcome to worship, and the reason why. But then suddenly, at the end of verse 7, we have the warning - a warning we still need to hear. You see, it’s not enough to worship. It’s not enough to be noisy and loud and then merrily go our way. As we worship, in singing and in bowing, we must also be listening, ready to hear and obey.

‘Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.’ The warning for the people of God still stands for us, as the writer to the Hebrews makes clear - that even when we’re worshipping, we could still fall away, if our hearts become hard, if we refuse to listen and obey.

We’re presented with a case study from the history of God’s people. Moses had led the Israelites out of Egypt, freedom from slavery, salvation through the Passover Lamb, escape through the Red Sea, where they arrived in the wilderness. It was here that disaster struck. The very same people who had trusted in the Passover suddenly refused to listen. Their hearts wanted to be back in Egypt, back in slavery. They feared for their lives because of a lack of water. They questioned whether God was really with them (Ex 17:7).

These were the people who had sung the songs of salvation; who were on the way to the promised land, guided by the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, yet they refused to listen, refused to trust God any more. They (v8) hardened their hearts.

Maybe you’ve seen this in a child. Their mum tells them to do something, and they say ‘no.’ And nothing will change their minds, not bribes, or threats. If you’re the parent, you only want what is best for them, but they just can’t or won’t see it. That’s how it was with God’s people. They hardened their hearts. They wouldn’t listen. And so, despite having seen evidence of God’s goodness and saving power up close and personal, they turned away, they have not known my ways.

We’re told that God loathed that generation. They were barred from the land of promise, the promised rest of the land of Israel. For forty years they would wander in the wilderness until that whole generation had died out (except for Joshua and Caleb).

Now you might be thinking, what has that got to do with us? That was thousands of years ago, far, far away. But Hebrews makes clear that the warning still stands, and all because of that word ‘today.’ Today, if we hear God’s voice, we can enter into that promised rest, a rest from labour, a rest that comes by trusting the promise.

And how do we make sure that we’ll receive the promise and enter that rest? It’s what we’ve seen in Psalm 95, and explained in Hebrews 3:12-13:

‘Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today’, that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.’

Exhort one another. Encourage one another. Do it together - the welcome of worship, as we urge one another to worship our great God in loud singing and in humble submission. It’s so important that we are here for one another, not just for ourselves and what we get out of our time together. It’s why our prayer diary for today is to ‘look for opportunities to encourage someone as we gather as a church family today.’ If each of us are on the look out to encourage everyone else, then all of us will encourage and be encouraged. Perhaps before you leave your pew, you can pray for the people around you, in front, beside or behind. Perhaps you don’t need to dash off straight after the closing prayer. Perhaps you could share a word of encouragement with someone else on the way out.

We need each other. We can’t do it on our own. It’s why we’re called into the church, the family of God, the people of his pasture. We welcome one another to worship - singing to our great God; and bowing before our shepherd King. And this applies every week, but even more so today - today, if you hear his voice, if you are prompted to play your part, to step up, or speak up, or sing up, or pray up, then don’t harden your hearts. Don’t turn away. Enter his rest. Receive his grace. Submit to his word, as we seek to do that together.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 18th August 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 19 Declaring God's Glory

Have you ever seen a message in the sky? One time when we were on holiday, every so often you would hear the hum of a light aeroplane. And when you looked up into the sky, the plane was flying along with a message coming along behind it. There were adverts for shops and bars and restaurants and theme parks and even banks appearing in the sky. Or maybe you’ve seen some skywriting. That’s where a plane sends out some special smoke to form words visible from the ground - Happy birthday; or Marry me; or something like that. Messages in the sky.

In our Psalm today, David tells us that there are messages in the sky, but you don’t need a plane for them. In fact, you don’t need anything else, other than your eyes. You just have to look up. And what do we see when we look up? What is the message the sky is telling us?

‘The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.’ (1)

Whenever we look up, the heavens, the skies, are giving us a message. They are declaring and proclaiming something to us. They are telling us about the glory of God. They are showing that God made them - and that he is glorious.

And that’s the case whether you look up in the daytime or in the nighttime. When was the last time that you looked up at the skies? What did you see? Were you checking if it was going to rain - or if it was going to stop raining? Was that all you saw? Or did you see what they were trying to tell you?

You see, daytime or nighttime, they are always telling us about God: ‘Day after day they pour fourth speech; night after night they display knowledge.’ (2)

And yet, we’re so used to seeing the sky and the sun and the moon and the stars that we don’t really hear what they’re saying. Paul Hawken says this: “Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course. The world would become religious overnight. We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead the stars come out every night, and we watch television.”

Their message is continuous - day after day, night after night. And their message is international: ‘There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.’ (3-4)

No matter what language someone may speak, the heavens are speaking to them. No matter where someone may live, the skies are speaking to them. And they are saying: Look at the glory of God! Look at what God has made! Look and see and know that there is a God! He made all this!

David then gives us one example of what God has made. He looks up and considers the sun. Now, maybe you were camping over the summer, and you pitched your tent in the campsite. It was somewhere to sleep at night. And so David says at the end of verse 4: ‘In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat.’ (4-6)

Every morning the sun rises, it comes out of its tent (as it were), and the sun runs across the sky, from the east to the west. Those pictures of the bridegroom and the champion are pictures of glory and strength and joy. And the sun shines on everyone. Nothing is hidden from its heat.

Everyone benefits from the sun’s heat. And everyone can see the skies. But are you hearing what they’re telling you? Are you hearing the declaration of God’s glory; the proclamation that God made it all? God has revealed himself in the creation he has made. Romans 1 tells us that God’s eternal power and divine nature are on display so that people are without excuse. And yet we suppress the truth. We ignore God’s glory; or we explain it away as a process of random happenings.

Natural revelation is enough to tell us that there is a God. But God has gone further. He has also given us special revelation - he has spoken and revealed himself in his word, the Bible. And it’s there that David goes next.

In a series of six sentences, David delights in God’s word. Look at verse 7: ‘The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul.’ Now, maybe when you read that you think, how does law revive the soul? But the word law refers to the teaching, the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. And in those books we find who God is - how he has revealed himself to the people of Israel. And the other words he uses - statutes, precepts, commands, fear, ordinances - they all show us what God expects of us.

And do you see how the Bible is described? It is perfect, trustworthy, right, radiant, pure and sure (and altogether righteous). In the Bible, God’s word, we see the glory of God. We get to know God. And as we do so, we find that our souls are revived, we are made wise, we receive joy-filled hearts and light-filled eyes.

God’s word is precious - so precious, in fact, that it is worth more than gold, much fine gold; and it is sweeter than honey from the comb. Is this how we think of our Bibles? Precious and sweet? Or something that sits on a shelf, or hides in a cupboard?

We don’t just read the Bible to become Bible quiz geeks. When I used to go to BB Camp there was always a Bible quiz on the Sunday night. There was great competition to see who would win. But much more important than a Mid-Ulster Battalion medal, the Bible reveals God himself. The Bible speaks, telling us of God’s glory - giving both warning and reward (v11).

The heavens tell of God’s glory. The Bible tells of God’s glory. And yet, we find ourselves out of tune, out of step with the universe. In so many ways, we fail to meet what God requires of us. As Romans also tells us, we all ‘have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ It’s the arrow that misses the mark. David mentions errors and hidden faults and wilful sins - things we don’t mean to do, as well as things we set out to do.

What are we to do? David calls out to God for forgiveness. He asks for mercy for his past, for the things he’s done wrong. And he asks for grace for his future, to be able to change:

‘Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults.’ Sometimes we’re not even aware of what we’ve done wrong. But God will even forgive those things. And he will keep us:

‘Keep your servant also from wilful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression.’

So how is this possible? How can David be so sure that God will forgive him and change him and keep him? How can we be sure of those things too? It’s because he knows who God is. In that last prayer in the last verse, he knows that the LORD is two things: ‘my Rock and my Redeemer.’ God is the rock solid one, the one you can depend on, the one you can build your life on. Why? Because he is also our Redeemer, the one who rescues us from our sin, the one who has paid the price to bring us back to him, the one who took our place by dying on the cross - taking our record of wrongs and making it his own and taking his record of righteousness and making it ours.

When the Lord is our Rock and our Redeemer we can repent, turn around, and find ourselves in tune with the universe.The heavens declare God’s glory. The law of the Lord declares God’s glory. And now we see that David desires God’s glory. Having turned from sin, his desire is to please the Lord. The last verse isn’t just a nice wee prayer before a sermon. It’s a prayer for every moment of every day, that we will live for the glory of God.

Just as the heavens speak of God’s glory, so our prayer is that the words of our mouths will also point to God’s glory. Just as the law of the Lord performs heart surgery on us, reviving the soul and rejoicing the heart, so our prayer is that the meditation of our heart will tend to the glory of God. It’s as we admit that often our words and our thoughts aren’t in tune with God’s glory that we can be mindful of the need to change. David asks, prays, in this verse, as he sums up the whole psalm, that God’s glory will be his supreme purpose. Will you make this your prayer today, this week, this month?

Let’s pray it together now.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 18th August 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 139 Search me and know me

Today is Mothering Sunday, the day when we especially remember, and thank, and honour our mothers, and those who have been a mother to us. For most people, your mum was or is the person who knows you best of all. So with me, growing up, mum always seemed to know where I was, what I was up to, and everything about me. If I’d got into trouble, or done something I shouldn’t have, mum knew about it, and was waiting when I got home.

Now whether your mum was like that or not; whether you’ve had a good relationship with your mum or not; there is someone who knows you even better than that. That’s what we see in our Bible reading today, from Psalm 139. King David writes this Psalm, and it’s all about how God knows us, and loves us, and cares for us.

In verses 1-6, we see how God knows us. These days, every time you leave the house, you are being watched. And I don’t just mean by your neighbours. Just think of the number of CCTV cameras, police cameras, even dash-cams in lorries and cars - all keeping watch on what you’re up to. And that’s before you think of your Tesco clubcard and other loyalty cards - which monitor what you buy, in exchange for some discounts. OR the way Facebook or Amazon recommends adverts that you might be interested in. George Orwell talked about how ‘Big Brother is watching you’ in his novel 1984. But even more than all those various means, God knows you.

In almost every verse, we find the word ‘know’ or a similar word: ‘O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.’

Every time you stand up or sit down (and in church it can be quite a few times), God knows about it. Every thought that you think, God knows about it. Every time that you go out the door, every time that you lie down, God knows about it. Even before you speak, before you say anything, God already knows it. I could get you to guess what I was going to say next... no one might guess that I was going to say that african elephants have bigger ears than Indian elephants - but God knew that was going to come out of my mouth.

The question is, how does all that knowledge make you feel? Knowing that God knows everything about you - how do you respond to that? Are you happy that he knows? Or fearful? Or angry? Here’s what David says in verses 5-6:

‘You hem me in - behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.’

David’s response is amazement. He’s amazed that God has laid his hand on him, has chosen him, and knows all about him - he’s amazed that the great and awesome God of the whole universe knows all about little David - he’s amazed that God knows everything. It’s too much to really take it all in.

But God doesn’t just know everything about us, he is also always with us. That’s what he says in verses 7-12: ‘Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.’ (7-10)

You might be thinking about summer holidays, or holidays at Easter. And whether you’re planning to go to the other side of the world, or the other side of Richhill, the truth is, that no matter where you go, God is with us. So on Friday, my friend S has gone to NZ for a month. He might have just arrived, and even there, God is with him. You see, there’s nowhere that we can go that God is not already there. That’s true in New Zealand, or Norway, or Newry. It’s true in Paraguay and Portugal and Portadown.

It’s also true in the darkness. With the clocks springing forward today, this evening we’ll all be remarking about the great stretch in the evenings. But when darkness comes, we can’t see so well. Maybe in the darkness we’re hidden? But even the night is like day to the Lord. ‘even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.’

So God knows everything about us, and God is always with us. But there’s even more, because God has also made us. Here’s what David says: ‘For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you.’ (13-18).

That tells us that God made us. Whether you’re tall or small; whatever your hair colour (or if you have hair); whatever your skills and talents and abilities; God made you to be you. He created us; he knit us together in our mothers’ womb. These days the scans can show the baby growing inside the mum’s tummy, can see in detail, but when David was writing this Psalm the first time the baby was seen was when it was born. But God sees, God knows, because God is at work, forming, making, knitting together. God knows all our days before even one of them came to be.

Isn’t that amazing? God knows us, God is with us, and God made us. It’s all amazing, and wonderful, and uplifting. And then the Psalm seems to take a weird turn. It’s almost as if it’s been tacked on at the end, out of place, like a copy and pasting error. Suddenly, David turns to talk about the wicked, and bloodthirsty men. So what is going on here? Well, let’s hear what he says:

‘If only you would slay the wicked, O God! Away from me, you bloodthirsty men! They speak of you with evil intent; your adversaries misuse your name. Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD, and abhor those who rise up against you? I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’ (19-24).

David is concerned about the people who don’t follow God’s ways. God knows them too, because wherever they are, God is there, and God made them. But they have turned their back on God, they don’t want to know God, they don’t want to be with God.

And actually, this is all of us. You see, even though God made us, and knows us, and is with us, we have all turned away from God. If we have sometimes told our mums ‘leave me alone!’ we have definitely said that to God. We don’t want him! But that’s why Jesus came into the world. He lived the perfect life that we haven’t lived; he always and fully loved God and loved his neighbour - and fully honoured and obeyed his parents; and he died on the cross, the death that David says the wicked deserve.

On the cross, Jesus takes our burden of sin, our record of wrongs. Imagine if we had cameras following you all last week, every word you said, everywhere you went, everything you did, every thought you thought. Would you be happy for us to all watch that footage on the big screen? Or if we had a complete record of everything you’ve ever said, thought, and done?

Jesus died to take away all the wrong things we have done. He died to give us his perfect record, his perfect right standing with God; to give us his life - as a free gift of grace. All we have to do is receive it, by believing that Jesus died for us - by trusting him.

That’s what David is asking in those closing verses. He’s asking God, who already knows him, to search him; to forgive his sins, and to lead him in the way everlasting. Today, it’s our prayer that Noah will grow up to know Jesus as his Saviour, and to follow in the path of Jesus, wherever he may lead him. Jesus already knows Noah - our prayer is that Noah will know Jesus.

But it’s not just what we’re praying for Noah. We’re praying it for you as well - that just as God knows you, and is with you, and made you, that you would know God as well. Why not come to him today?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Mothering Sunday morning 31st March 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 114 Passover Praise

A picture paints a thousand words. I’m sure you know that phrase, and that you get what it’s saying. One picture is worth a thousand words - to see something helps to understand it in a way that it would take about a thousand words to explain.

Or think of a subject like English Literature. Students read, learn and memorise a poem of say, a hundred words, but then have to write an essay of two thousand or three thousand words on it. The poem is so simple, so concise, so well-written, but the explanation of it seems to be so much larger.

The Psalm that we’re focusing in on tonight might seem a bit like that. (Consider this your warning!). In 97 words, the writer packs in so much more, that the sermon will take a few more than 97 words to convey its sense and its meaning. (In fact, we’re already well over 97 words). Or to take the pictures - if each is worth a thousand words, then there is much to say on each of these word pictures. But don’t worry, we’ll be briefer than that.

Before we dive into the Psalm, just one brief introductory comment, particularly if you’re joining us tonight for the first time in our Psalms series. Psalm 114 is one of six Psalms that were set Psalms for the time of the Passover feast. So every year, when the Jews came to Jerusalem, these were the songs on their lips - the Passover praises. And so these were the songs that Jesus sang with his disciples on the night before he was crucified.

Now, all 6 Psalms were set for Passover, but it’s only our Psalm tonight, Psalm 114, that explicitly mentions the events of the Passover. We see that in the opening line of the Psalm:

‘When Israel came out of Egypt,
the house of Jacob from a people of a foreign tongue.’ (1)

In terms of the timeline of the Bible, we’re towards the start of it. In Genesis 12, God had called Abraham to be the father of a great multitude, in whose offspring all nations would be blessed. And so his family grew - Isaac, Jacob, and then his twelve sons. One of them, Joseph, of the amazing technicolour dreamcoat fame, went down into Egypt as a slave, sold by his brothers, only to rise to become Prime Minister - God having sent him for the saving of many people, including his own brothers. So the family of Jacob (also known as Israel), went down into Egypt.

That’s where Genesis finishes. By the time the book Exodus starts, they’ve been in Egypt for 400 years, and they are slaves. Back-breaking labour. Facing oppression. Calling for God to hear and help them. And he does. God calls Moses by the spectacle of the burning but not consumed bush, and sends him to Pharaoh saying ‘Let my people go.’

Pharaoh says no, and God sends a series of plagues on the land of Egypt. The last of the plagues is the death of the firstborn. In every home, the firstborn son would die. But for the children of Israel, the Passover Lamb died in their place - the blood sprinkled on the doorposts and lintel meant that God would ‘pass over’ that house.

So the events of the Passover are in view, and also the effects of the Passover. And we see the parallelism of Hebrew poetry - the two lines saying the same thing. Israel are the house of Jacob, and Egypt was the people of foreign tongue. And what happened when Israel came out of Egypt? We see in verse 2:

‘Judah became God’s sanctuary,
Israel his dominion.’

Both Israel and Judah are ways of speaking of the people of God. But it may well be that Judah refers to the tribe of Judah, from which king David came, and in whose territory the temple was eventually built (by Solomon). Sanctuary and dominion may well refer to the same idea of territory, saying it’s all God’s. but it might also be saying that Judah was God’s special sanctuary, his inner dwelling, while the whole nation was his dominion, his possession - kind of in the way that behind the Communion rail is the sanctuary, but the whole church building is dedicated and devoted to God.

In the next group of two verses, 3 and 4, we find a record of some of the big things that happened when Israel came out of Egypt. And again, what the writer says in five or four words might take a few more! Verse 3:

‘The sea looked and fled,
the Jordan turned back;
the mountains skipped like rams,
the hills like lambs.’ (3-4)

The sea looked and fled. That’s what we heard about in our first reading, from Exodus 14. The people have fled from Egypt, but in their way is a huge barrier - the Red Sea. Behind them, the Egyptians are in hot pursuit, having just let their entire slave labour workforce leave. And what happened? God made a way through the sea. It ‘fled’ to enable the Israelites to walk through on dry ground. They made it safe to the other side, and then the sea resumed its place, drowning the pursuing Egyptians.

That was at the start of their escape from Egypt. The next line comes at the other end of their wilderness wanderings, forty years later. By this stage, the people are on the brink of entering the promised land, the land that God had promised to give to Abraham and his descendants. But again, there’s a big barrier in their way. The river Jordan was in full flow, flooding its banks with the melted snow of springtime coming down from the mountains. Impassable. But what happened? ‘The Jordan turned back.’ It stopped flowing. And again, the people passed over on dry ground. (Joshua 3&4)

Verse 4 pictures something that happened in between those two miraculous events. ‘The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like lambs.’ What’s in view there is the earthquake on Mount Sinai, when Moses was given the Law, the Ten Commandments. The mountains skipped, the hills also.

Now, it might seem that, having covered those events, telling us what happened in poetic language, that the writer is now just repeating himself. But notice what is happening here. Creation is being questioned. They’re being interviewed. So imagine a chat show, and you have four seats for the interviewees - the sea, the Jordan, the mountains, and the hills. And the question? ‘Why was it that you did what you did?’

‘Why was it, O sea, that you fled,
O Jordan, that you turned back,
you mountains, that you skipped like rams,
you hills, like lambs?’ (5-6)

The sea is normally in its place. The Jordan normally flows down hill, following its course. The mountains and hills normally stand still, not jumping and skipping. So what happened? Why was it you did what you did?

The answer comes in verse 7 - although we could have anticipated it from verse 2. ‘Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Judah.’

It is because God was with his people, in bringing them out of Egypt, and in bringing them through the wilderness, and bringing them into the promised land, that the creation acted in these weird ways. God’s presence cleared the way for his people through the sea, and through the river. God’s presence at the top of Mount Sinai caused it to quake and skip.

But verse 7 isn’t just the answer to the question of verses 5-6. In fact, the phrasing of verse 7 suggests that this is a command to the whole earth (both the land itself, and also the people who live on the land). It’s because the creation has already reacted in these ways to its Maker’s presence, that now the whole earth is advised to tremble at the presence of the Lord - his majesty and glory, his power and might, his holiness and his grace, his love and his mercy.

It can sometimes be that we emphasise God’s love, and grace and acceptance, but forget about how awesome God also is. The command to tremble is to be heeded. There is a proper fear and respect and honour due to God.

In the Book Revelation, we see the enemies of God trembling in this way, kings, princes, generals, rich, mighty, slave and free, when they call for the rocks and mountains to fall on them, to hide them from the face of God and from the wrath of the Lamb. (Rev 6:15-17) They tremble, because they fear God, but too late for mercy.

But we also see the creation itself trembling in our second reading. As Jesus sang these words with his disciples, he would have known what would happen the next day as he died on the cross. The sun refusing to shine, darkness over the land. The earth quaking and the rocks splitting, and even the curtain of the temple torn from top to bottom. (Matt 27:45-51). Creation trembling at the presence of God, at the death of the God-man, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Did you notice how verse 8 seems to be tacked on at the end? It’s another picture of what God did for his people in the wilderness, another sign of creation trembling at the presence of God - water from the rock, which happened twice (Exodus 17 and Numbers 20). A hard rock becomes a pool, a spring of water, a place of refreshment.

Paul, in 1 Corinthians 10 tells us that the people ‘drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ.’ (1 Cor 10:4). And what was it that Jesus offers us through his death on the cross? ‘The water I give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ (John 4:14).

Jesus is our Passover Lamb, the one who died to bring us freedom. He is the presence of God, who died to save us, causing the earth to tremble. And he offers us the river of the water of eternal life, flowing through him to satisfy our thirst.

Will you tremble now, filled with awe and wonder at the amazing, wonderful, free gift of salvation that Jesus offers? Or will you be brought to tremble eventually, in fear of the wrath of the Lamb?

Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 24th March 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 113 - Passover Praise

When reading the gospel accounts of the life of Jesus, there are lots of little details that seem to stand out. Small things that are mentioned, in passing, and then the story moves on. And, perhaps, as you read, there are things that you wonder about, things that you’d like to know more about, questions that you have. I have a few of them as well - stored up and ready for the day I meet Matthew, Mark, Luke and John and get to finally ask my questions!

Our series tonight begins to answer one of the questions that I had. You see, both Matthew and Luke tell us that at the end of the Last Supper, ‘When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.’ (Matt 26:30, Mark 24:26). Having been in the choir from the age of 8, any time I read that, I would always wonder, what hymn did they sing? And looking through the hymnbook, none of the hymns in the Church Hymnal seemed to be old enough, mot written from the 1700s on. So I stored up that question.

But now I know the answer! Within Judaism, there were set readings and set Psalms for every day and season. And at Passover, there were six Psalms that were set - the Psalms that we’ll look at between now and Palm Sunday - Psalms 113 - 118, the Egyptian Hallel. So as we study these Psalms in the run up to Easter, we are hearing the songs that Jesus sung as he celebrated Passover, as he prepared to go to the cross to be our Passover Lamb.

So let’s dive in to tonight’s Psalm, Psalm 113. And straight away, we see that it is a call to praise. That’s very obvious in the first three verses, isn’t it? In each of the verses, we find the word praise or praised.

I’m sure you know of the Hallelujah chorus from Handel’s Messiah. Maybe some time we’ll sing it in church. But that word ‘Hallelujah’ is the first line of this Psalm in Hebrew. Where we have ‘Praise the LORD’, that literally says in Hebrew ‘Hallelu Yah’ (see footnote). So this Psalm is like an Old Testament Hallelujah chorus, calling people to praise the LORD. It’s the first line, and it’s the last line, so it’s all about praising the LORD.

But we’re told much more than just to praise the LORD. We’re also told the who, the when and the where in those opening verses. In the rest of verse 1 we find the who: ‘Praise, O servants of the LORD, praise the name of the LORD.’ So the call is going out to everyone who is a servant of the LORD, who serves the LORD, to praise the LORD. And, as we’ll see, this isn’t just a select few, it’s not just those who wear robes or dog collars - it’s for everyone who serves the LORD in whatever way. So are you a servant of the LORD? This Psalm calls you to praise the name of the LORD.

As well as the who, we’re also told the when. Verse 2: ‘Let the name of the LORD be praised, both now and for evermore.’ So when is the name of the LORD to be praised? Is it just for a short while? Just when it suits? Does it have an expiry date, a cut-off point, a backstop? No, it’s both now, here and now, and for evermore. The call is to permanent praise. So if it’s now, then it’s time to praise - it’s what we’ll be doing for ever, so why not start now?

So we’ve seen the who, the when, but what about the where? Is it just in the temple, or just in Jerusalem? No! The scope is much bigger than that - the call to praise goes out further: ‘From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the LORD is to be praised.’ (3) The sun rises in the east, and sets in the west, so if the sun shines on you, this is a call to praise wherever you are. This is a world-wide call for worship.

Down beside the Odyssey in Belfast, there’s the W5 science exploration centre. Through lots of interactive displays, children are introduced to learning about their world while having fun. The name W5 comes from the 5 Ws - who, what, where, why, when. We’ve seen four of them already - the what of praising; the who - servants of the LORD; the when - now and for evermore; and the where - all over the world. The one we haven’t seen yet is the why - but that’s what verse 4-6 answer.

So why should we praise the name of the LORD? Why should we join in this Hallelujah chorus? We are called to praise the high-over-all LORD.

Do you see the sorts of words that are used to describe the LORD? He is exalted over (4), above (4), enthroned on high (5), stoops down to look (6). All those words combine to show us that the LORD is high-over-all. In Ulster-Scots, the chief executive of a company is the ‘high heid yin’, but the LORD really is high-over-all.

He is exalted high over all the nations. Remember that these are Psalms reflecting on the Passover experience of Israel - who had been slaves in Egypt. And so as the Israelites think of their past treatment at the hands of Egypt, or the current and future threats, and their time of exile in Babylon, time and again they had experienced the height of the power of other nations. Yet they remind themselves that God is higher than the nations - all the nations. He is exalted high over all the nations.

And linked to that, his glory is exalted above the heavens. Just think of the glory of the heavens - a glimpse of a rainbow, the majesty of a sunrise, or the glory of a beautiful sunset. Yet God’s glory is above the heavens. It’s above and beyond anything that we can see. So why should we praise? Because he is the high over all LORD.

And to make the point, in a slightly different way, verse 5 asks the question: ‘Who is like the LORD our God, the One who sits enthroned on high, who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth?”

Who is like the LORD our God? The short answer is just two small words. Answer? No one! But the question goes on to show why no one else is like the LORD. He is the one who sits enthroned on high. He is enthroned - he’s on the throne, ruling and reigning over the world and the universe. And so the use of height emphasises his position - enthroned on high.

And verse 6 builds on that idea of height to show just how high over all he really is. ‘... who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth.’ When was the last time you stooped down to look at something? Maybe it was in the shop, as you tried to decide which tin of custard to buy. For me, it was probably in a bookshop, stooping down to see what books were on the bottom shelf. The image carries the idea of getting down low, in order to better see something far below.

And what is it that God stoops down to see? The heavens and the earth! We look up at the heavens, but God has to stoop down to look on us, because he is so high above us, enthroned on high.

So far we have seen that Psalm 113 is a call to praise the high-over-all LORD. And you might be thinking that the ‘why’ has so far been a bit above you. Yes, God is high over all. But does that mean that he doesn’t really know us, or doesn’t really care for us? That even when he stoops down to see us, it’s like us stooping down to watch creepy crawlies in the garden, casually watching a few ants for a moment or two?

Nothing could be further from the truth. God is not distant, aloof, and uncaring. You see, as Jesus sang this Psalm with his followers at the Passover, he himself had more then stooped down to look on the heavens and the earth - he had stepped down to become man. And why did he do it? Was it just out of interest? A way to pass the time, to see what it was like to be human - a bit like the way the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Philip would drive around London in his own Black Cab?

Psalm 113 tells us why the LORD is worthy of praise. Did you notice back in verses 1-3 that in each verse it mentions ‘the name of the LORD.’ Your name is more than just what people call you when they want your attention. Your name also refers to your character, to what sort of person you are. And God’s name is to be praised because of his character - he is the loving, caring, redeeming, saving God. And that’s what we see in the closing verses. The LORD stoops down to look and steps down to save.

Do you see the verbs (doing words) in verses 7-9? Here’s what the LORD does. He raises (7), lifts (7), seats (8) and settles (9). He comes down in order to lift up. He comes down to make a difference by saving and redeeming.

So in verse 7, it’s the poor who are raised from the dust, and the needy who are lifted from the ash heap. They’re down and out and desperate and destitute. They’re in the lowest place possible, dust and ash heap. But the LORD intervenes, he steps down in order to raise them and lift them. And where are they lifted to?

‘He seats them with princes, with the princes of their people.’ Paupers are seated with princes, it’s a real rags to riches story. Or maybe rags to royalty. It’s what Graham Kendrick captures so well in his song ‘Meekness and Majesty’ - ‘Lord of infinity stooping so tenderly, lifts our humanity to the heights of his throne.’

This is why Jesus came, and why the next day, Jesus will go to the cross - in that down, down, down descent that Philippians 2 records, making himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, humbling himself, obedient to death, even death on a cross. But it was for us that Jesus came down, down, down, in order to lift us to be with him. It’s so amazing, and all of grace.

That’s why it’s so shocking that, as they eat the Passover and sing these songs with Jesus, the disciples are busy arguing about which of them is the greatest! They have been chosen to sit on the twelve thrones, the princes of Israel, by God’s grace, yet they want to make sure their crown is bigger and better than everyone else’s!

The LORD’s character is all of grace, to save and rescue. He raises, lifts, and seats. But verse 9 reminds us, he also settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Through the Bible there are a number of times that this has happened. The one that springs to mind is the case of Hannah, the mother of Samuel. Indeed, verses 7-8 in this Psalm are a quotation of her song in 1 Samuel 2 (verse 8). Hannah herself was the barren woman given the child Samuel. But there were more besides - Samson’s mother (Judges 13), Elizabeth the mother of John the Baptist (Luke 1), and Sarah, the wife of Abraham.

She waited for her promised son, Isaac for twenty-five years before he was born. And it seems that Sarah is in view here, as the mother of the children of Abraham. In view is the family of Abraham, the children of Israel, the people of God - God’s family. Together we are being brought into God’s family and household, through Jesus our Lord and our Redeemer.

Perhaps as Jesus sang this song with his disciples, as they shared the Passover, he was reminded again of what his mission involved, and what he would accomplish the next day as he died on the cross. Through his death and his resurrection, we see more clearly what our God is like - his name and character, his uniqueness, his universal reign - and it calls forth our praise.

And so Psalm 113, the first of our Passover Praise Psalms, is a call to praise the high-over-all God who came down to raise us up.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 17th March 2019.

Sermon: Psalm 137 By the rivers of Babylon

Boney M have a lot to answer for. Thanks to their hit song, the first words of our Psalm today are instantly recognisable. I wonder if you can remember all the words? Whether you’ve remembered them or not, you might just be able to hum the tune - something that has been going round and round in my head this week as I’ve been preparing!

The song is a little older than me - 1978 when you were first dancing along to it. But while the first line is fixed in the memory, the last lines of the Psalm aren’t just so popular. In fact, they maybe caused you to have a sharp intake of breath. Could this be in the Bible? It just doesn’t seem to fit. We’ll come to those verses in due course.

From Boney M to another little rhyme. How does this go? ‘Remember, remember, the fifth of November...’. (Gunpowder, treason and plot. I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot). The rhyme urges us to remember Guy Fawkes and his failed attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605. As I was working on Psalm 137, I realised that the outline of the Psalm could be seen as ‘Remember, remember, remember.’ Psalm 137 remembers, not a failed plot, but an actual disaster.

So what are we remembering, what are we calling to mind? And how does that remembering express our faith in God, even in troubled times? Let’s see what Psalm 137 tells us, and store it up in our minds for when we need it for ourselves.

In verses 1-3, we see Remembering Zion- painful memories. As the opening line tells us, the people of God are far away from their home. They’re not in the city of Zion, or Jerusalem, they are remembering it ‘by the rivers of Babylon.’ They’re far from home, having been captured and taken away to strange Babylon (in modern day Iraq). This could be the song of Daniel and his three friends - Jerusalem has been destroyed, the people of God find themselves in a strange place, in captivity. As if that isn’t bad enough, the Babylonians want them to sing the songs of Zion, songs of joy, as if it’s an entertaining way to pass some time.

But rather than songs, there is weeping. They hang up the harps; they are faced with what they have lost. There’s no prospect of return. They watched the city being destroyed - the aftermath of which we hear in Lamentations 1. They’ve suffered loss, and even now, only have painful memories. Perhaps there’s even some regret over the loss. You see, God had promised David that they would live in the city, have a son of his on the throne, so long as the people kept the covenant and obeyed the Lord.

But the people were unfaithful. They turned away from God. And God has kept his promise. They’re away from the land. They remember Zion. And they weep.

Sometimes we don’t know what to do when someone starts crying. We don’t know what to say, or what to do. Maybe we feel awkward. Do you see how the Bible and the Psalms in particular tune in to every emotion. We had a praise-filled call to worship Psalm this morning, but this is darker, harder, more of a lament. Yet God can handle all of our days and all of our feelings. His word comes to us in every season. Even when we’re remembering Zion with painful memories.

As the psalm moves on, though, we come to remembering Jerusalem - by singing the songs. The question in verse 4 is at the heart of the whole psalm. It’s the question that drives the whole thing: ‘How can we sing the songs of the LORD while in a foreign land?’

Do you recognise the pain here? The songs of Zion speak of God’s promises and purposes all centred on Zion - the temple, the king, and the people of God, in God’s place under his blessing. And they’re far from there, in exile. They’re far from home. And it seems as if they think that they’re far from God as well.

But even in the pain, there is a desire to remember Jerusalem, to not forget the city of God. It might come with great cost, but the Psalm writer is committed to Jerusalem, even in exile. ‘If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth...’ His right hand’s skill and his tongue are the very things needful to play the harp and sing the Lord’s songs.

And what he’s saying here is that he isn’t going to forget Jerusalem. It’s going to have the place of supreme honour and devotion in his heart and life. They city of God may not be standing, and yet he is dedicated to it. Yes, there will be other joys - even in a foreign land. But Jerusalem will have highest place.

We sometimes see on the news the images of people being driven into exile, finding themselves in refugee camps, fearful, in danger, never knowing what is going to happen to them. But the truth is that we too are in exile. We may not realise it all the time, but the Christian is an exile and a stranger in this world. We’re not at home, we don’t really belong.

It’s the apostle Peter who writes ‘To God’s elect, strangers in the world...’ (1 Pet 1:1, also 1:17, 2:11) And that’s what we are. We don’t always fit in.

It’s as if we ask through the tears, how can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? When we go through troubling times, when the weight of the world is weighing heavily on us, how can we keep going, keep trusting, keep joyful? The answer the psalm gives is how could we not sing the Lord’s song?

How could we not keep trusting in God? One of the hardest and yet most special parts of ministry is being with those who are coming to the end of their life. To be with them, and then with their families gives an insight into how people tick, and what matters most to them. To see a believer continue to trust through the darkest of days - how could they do otherwise, they would say? Even in the tears, there is joy.

Remember, remember - with painful memories, we’ll continue to trust and find joy. But it’s when we get to the final remember that we get a little bit jittery. In fact, the compilers of the Church of Ireland lectionary readings would want us to stop at the end of verse 6. Here and no further, they decree.

But God, in his wisdom, has inspired all of Holy Scripture. As Paul says to Timothy, all of scripture (not just the bits we like, or are sanitised) is God-breathed and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting & training in righteousness. So what do these last verses teach us about God and ourselves? What does the final reminder point to?

The appeal is to remember Jerusalem, a cry for justice. We hear it on the news every day - a crime has been committed, we want the criminal arrested and tried. It’s a natural desire to see justice done. And so, the writer of the Psalm cries out to God for justice.

‘Remember, O Lord, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell.’ The Edomites were (if you went back far enough), far out relations of the Jews. Esau was Jacob’s brother - their descendants were near neighbours. But when Nebuchadnezzar came against Jerusalem, the Edomites joined in. They were like the cheerleaders urging on the Babylonians: ‘how they said, “Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations.”’ Fair’s fair, you might think. But what about the next bit?

‘O daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us - he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rock!’ It’s a brutal image, an almost unthinkable one. Especially if the word used to describe the attackers is ‘happy.’ Could the soldiers have a smile on their face as they attack little ones?

But the word isn’t really happy. Rather, it’s the word (in other versions) ‘blessed.’ The writer of the Psalm, inspired by God, is adding to the curse pronounced on the Babylonians in other places in scripture (e.g. Isaiah 13, Habakkuk 2:8 etc). And in looking to God for justice, asking God to remember the Edomites and the Babylonians, the author is trusting in God’s perfect justice.

And it’s natural that we seek justice when we have suffered. But we need to be careful in pointing fingers at others, that three fingers aren’t pointing back at us. We cry for justice when we have been wronged, but could we stand under God’s just judgement by ourselves? Rather than justice, or (as seems to be popular on Facebook these days, karma), what we actually need is... mercy and grace.

It is in the cross that we see the just punishment that our sins deserved. God’s wrath has been satisfied. God’s peace and perfect justice have met, and given us mercy and grace. And so, it is in Christ that we are free from our sin, and called to follow his example, as he prayed for his persecutors. In Christ, God the just judge reconciles us to himself. We no longer bear our own punishment; instead we are forgiven, and sent to forgive.

But to reject Christ, to make yourself his enemy, to oppose the new Jerusalem, is to make yourself his enemy, to oppose the new Jerusalem, is, in the end, to side with Babylon, and to face his just judgement forever. It is only in Christ that we belong to the new Jerusalem, and find there our highest joy - the promise of eternal life with him.

Remember, remember, remember, and keep trusting as you find yourself an exile and stranger in this world, but keep going, as we journey to that new Jerusalem through the pain, through the tears, to that place of sweet delight.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 26th August 2018.