Oh come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation! Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise!  Psalm 95:1,2.
 
            Psalm 95 is generally thought to have been one sung during the Feast of Tabernacles.  Meribah and Massah are used in its body, a time in the wilderness when God taught His people a hard lesson.  But this psalm starts just as you would expect a festival psalm to.  Come let us sing, let us make a joyful noise. 
            Just as an interesting point, the Hebrew word translated “sing” in this passage is not a musical word.  Ranan means to emit a stridulous sound (not exactly how I would want my singing described) or to shout, and is indeed translated shout, cry out, rejoice, joy, or triumph half the time in the KJV.  And that makes that opening couplet much more parallel to the second one, “make a joyful noise to him.” 
            About that “joyful noise:” that particular Hebrew word means to mar, especially by breaking, to shout, or to split the ears.  In our words we might say, “He burst my eardrums he was so loud.”  Think about standing at a football stadium in the middle of the game, or beneath a jet engine as it revs for take-off.  That’s the noise we are talking about.  In fact, this word is translated “blow an alarm [with a trumpet]” a couple of times.  As the second verse continues, we are to do this in psalms of praise so singing is involved, but the point of these two words is not the melody but the volume, caused by unabashed joy and celebration.
            You find this often in the psalms.  Noise and clamor seemed to be a part of the Jewish worship.  Perhaps the psalmist, and God as his inspiration, had noticed.  Right in the middle of the psalm, he throws what amounts to a cold bucket of water on all the festivities. 
            Their celebration of the feast had made them forget what the wandering was all about—and it wasn’t fun and games.  An entire generation died because of their faithlessness.  Toward the end of verse 7 he interrupts their self-congratulation that God loves them and cares for them with, Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as at Meribah, as on the day at Massah in the wilderness, when your fathers put me to the test and put me to the proof.   
            Yes, God made a covenant that He would be with them and protect them, but only if they performed their half of the contract.  Their ancestors did not.  God goes on to say that He loathed that generation.  That English word, I am told, is far too mild for the Hebrew idea.  It means they disgusted Him, they nauseated Him, as in “I will spew you out of my mouth” nausea.  Because of that, they did not receive the promised rest, a rest like God’s, a Sabbath rest not because you are tired, but because have finished the task (Heb 4:1-11).
            Those people seemed to think, as the prophets testified, that all it took was loud worship to please God.  The tendency is to judge our own worship as lacking because of this, too.  We ask, “Why don’t we ever do that?” as if anything solemn and quiet is not sincere worship and certainly not acceptable to God.  It is easy to think, as they did, that volume is all that matters. 
            “If you hear his voice” the psalmist says and then makes it clear that hearing involves reverence and obedience.  In order to underscore this emphasis, the psalmist does not go back and say, “Okay, get on with the celebration now.  I just wanted to interject a warning.”  No, this is where he ends it.  He wants this to be the last thing on their minds as they finish singing this psalm:  “Therefore I swore in my wrath, they shall not enter into my rest.”
            What started out as a jubilant service ends up with the wrath of God.  I am sure their songs were not quite so ecstatic, their noise not quite so loud, for who can be carefree when he contemplates the wrath of the Almighty, the one the psalmist has already reminded us created everything and holds it in His hand? 
           
Take away from me the noise of your songs; for I will not hear the melody of your viols. But let justice roll down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream, Amos 5:23,24.
 
Dene Ward.

Yes, there are more obvious things we simply read over in Psalm 23.  (Scroll down for part 1 if you missed it.)
              When do you usually hear a reading of the twenty-third psalm?  Funerals and deathbeds, right?  We have consigned this little gem to those two occasions, probably because of the translation, “the valley of the shadow of death.”  Yet, if we had simply done a little study—very little, in fact—instead of just accepting what we always hear and assuming it the beginning and end of the matter, we would have found many other uses for this psalm.
              “The valley of the shadow of death” is actually one Hebrew word--tsalmaveth—and it can mean “deep darkness.”  It is, in fact, translated that way in the modern versions.  Yes, in Job 38:17 it seems to refer to physical death, but in Jer 2:6 it refers to the wilderness wandering, certainly a dark era for the people of God.  In Jer 13:16 it refers to the coming destruction and captivity, perhaps their darkest period.  In Job 34:22 I am not certain what it refers to, but it certainly isn’t death.  This is important because all of us experience times of deep darkness in our lives.  To know that God is with us during those times too, not just at death, is a comfort beyond any other.
              And do notice this, God is the one leading us to and through this dark place.  In fact, coming immediately after “he leads me in paths of righteousness” (literally, “right paths”), this dark place is the right place for me to be.  It may be a severe trial, but for some reason I need to be there.  It is right for me to be there, and God will lead me “through” it.  He will not put me there and leave me there.  Even something as severe as losing a child, becoming disabled, or becoming terminally ill, is one He has led me to and through, accompanying me all the way. 
              But there may well be other kinds of dark places I must go through, and will realize He has been with me when I get out on the other side.  That is, if I have remained His faithful servant, trusting in His wisdom and care.  As long as He is with me, “I will fear no evil.”  It may be that His presence involves correction or discipline (His “rod and staff”), but I know that He loves me and this is the right place for me to be, and that even in this dark place, “goodness and mercy follows me,” that is, “pursues” me.  His goodness and mercy are on the hunt for me, even in the dark places--especially in the dark places.
              Don’t miss out on the gold in this little treasure chest just because you have heard it all your life.  Use it to help you navigate those dark places, with Him as your guiding star.  Trust Him, as this particular genre of psalms is called, the Psalms of Trust, or Psalms of Confidence--in God. 
              You can make it through the dark to a light beyond, which is also implied, for you can’t have a shadow without a light shining somewhere.
 
The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident. One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple, Psalm 27:1-4.
 
Dene Ward

Back in my younger years I was a jogger.  If you missed the story, slip over to the right sidebar under “categories,” and click on “Country Life.”  Scroll down to “One Fencepost at a Time”—even farther back than “Backwards One Fencepost at a Time”—and you can read about it with its own lesson of encouragement.
            When I finally progressed to jogging on the highway instead of the cow pasture (explained in that previous post), the first time I took nearly twice as long as I should have to jog the same distance.  Ordinarily, jogging on a firm surface is easier because your feet push off and the momentum is with you instead of all sinking down into the dirt, sand, mud, or grass of the softer surfaces.  That was not what slowed me down.  What kept distracting me were the things I had passed every day for three years and never seen before.
            In a car, you usually see the road, the signs, and possible problems—other cars, animals both domesticated and wild, pedestrians, potholes, discarded bottles, trash bags that fell off other vehicles, boards that might have nails in them, pieces of blown tires.  You must look for those things if you want to avoid an accident. 
            But that morning as I jogged slowly by I found out for the first time that a tiny creek ran through a four foot diameter culvert under the road just past the neighbor by the woods.  I discovered a path through those same woods that led to a ramshackle cabin a hundred feet off the road, nearly hidden by the ramrod straight pines.  I discovered that another neighbor had a second driveway, much smaller, that led to a shed behind the house.  Then as I approached the bridge over the New River, I found a path snaking off to its side, probably used by fishermen looking for bait, or kids swimming in the shallows.  All those things had been there the whole time I had, but it was as if I had discovered a brand new place.
            That is exactly how I felt after our ladies’ class studied Psalm 23.  I almost skipped that one—everyone knows it.  We all memorized it as children.  If there is a Bible passage in a movie, it is apt to be that one.  Why should we include that in what I hoped to be a study of brand new material for most of us?  Because it was brand new material, too.  I had gotten out of the speeding vehicle passing through it, and had jogged at a slower pace, seeing the details for the first time.  We are going to talk about what I found this time and next.
            Psalm 23 is classified as a Psalm of Trust.  I doubt that David, Ethan, Asaph, Solomon, Heman, the sons of Korah, Moses, or any other of the writers of the psalms actually made a decision to write a particular type of psalm and then followed some carefully laid out pattern.  No, the elements and patterns have been analyzed by scholars thousands of years removed from them, but it is interesting that they do follow something of a pattern.  For instance, Psalms of Trust (some call them Psalms of Confidence [in God]) tend to view God in metaphorical terms.  He is variously called a shield, a fortress, a rock, a shelter, a master [of slaves], and in this familiar psalm a shepherd.
            But here is the part I always missed—the metaphor in these psalms is apt to change abruptly, as it does here in verse 5.  Suddenly God is depicted as a host.  Some of the older commentators do not want to see this change, but please tell me, when was the last time you saw a sheep eating at a table or drinking out of a cup?  No, the shepherd feeds the sheep in verse 2: he makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.  Sheep eat grass and drink water, and the shepherd has fed them exactly what they want and need.  Now it is the host’s turn to feed his friend in a brand new metaphor.
            And notice this, the host in verses 5 and 6 is not just an acquaintance fulfilling the obligations of hospitality in the Eastern tradition.  He is a close friend.  He takes you into his house not just for a meal but to “dwell forever.”  Indeed the Hebrew word for “house” often implies “household.”  That last verse could easily and correctly be translated “and I will remain in the family of the Lord forever.”  We’re not talking about being a pet sheep in the family, but a human member of the family, someone who eats at the table with the rest of the family, the truest sign of acceptance in that culture.
            See what you miss when you just breeze through an old familiar passage without a second thought?  You need to get out of the car and walk through it, paying attention to every detail and thinking about every nuance.  That’s how you learn new things.  And this new thing is nothing compared to the one I will show you tomorrow.
 
So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, Eph 2:19.
 
Dene Ward

Years ago I sang in the evening chorus at the university.  Chorus was required for my degree, and this was the only chorus that fit my schedule, a schedule that included teaching private piano lessons, running a home, and interning as a music teacher in a local elementary school.  Add to that, I was a preacher’s wife—just learning, as he was, but still dealing with extra obligations.
              We had a program scheduled and the director called an extra rehearsal.  That rehearsal did not fit my schedule.  I would have had to cancel a few lessons and more important, miss a Wednesday evening Bible study.  He made it clear that no misses would be excused short of death beds.  So I took a deep breath when I broached the lion in his den the next afternoon.
              My heart sank when I saw three others waiting outside his office.  Instead of calling us in one by one, he came out and stood in the hall and listened as the first one asked to be excused.  “Absolutely not!” he said sternly.  “You already miss too many rehearsals.  If you don’t show up, you will be dismissed from the chorus.”  The next one received a similar reply and the next.  They all left, crestfallen.
              Then he saw me at the back of the line.  “If you have to dismiss me, I understand,” I began, “but my husband is a preacher and we have a Bible study that night.  I just cannot miss it.” 
              I was shocked when a small smile twitched at his lips.  “You I don’t worry about,” he said quietly.  “You are always there.  You listen when I give directions.  You know your part.  You haven’t missed a single performance.  Go to your Bible study.  You still have a place in my chorus.” Talk about relief.  I drove home praising God in my heart.
              Have you read Psalm 123?  That psalm is classified as a psalm of trust, written on behalf of the entire nation of Israel.  Many psalms are full of hallelujahs, with shouts of Hosanna, with dancing and leaping and loud expressions of joy.  Not this one.  Psalm 123 is a quiet psalm.  It is presented as servants watching quietly from the corner of the room for the smallest sign from the master that he wants something. 
              Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us, v 2.
              Leupold says, “There is nothing powerful, moving or sublime that finds expression here.  A quiet, submissive tone prevails throughout.  It is subdued in character.”  This is simply a servant doing his master’s will in an unobtrusive manner, calmly asking for relief but going about his duty even in the midst of trial, trusting that his prayer will be answered without his further interference.
              I like this psalm.  I have never been one who needs to demonstrate my love for God loudly, yet everyone knows it is there simply from the way I live my life.  If my chorus director could know I was a “faithful student” despite the fact that I was quiet instead of boisterous, certainly God can know the same about my spiritual life.
              God, the Father of spirits, made all kinds of personalities.  And because He made them, he accepts them—just look at the apostles and all their differences.  If He will accept that varied crew, He will accept my worship, even if it is quiet and restrained, as long as my emotion and intent are sincere and obedient.
              Nowadays it seems people are quick to judge others as less thankful, less sincere, and less loving if they sit quietly and say little aloud about their feelings.  This psalm says it isn’t so.  If I sit quietly in the corner waiting for my master’s smallest cue, I may, in fact, be a whole lot more likely to see it than someone who can’t sit still long enough to notice, or be quiet long enough to hear someone besides himself.  
              We are all different, yet God accepts all worship that is “in spirit and in truth,” the brash, the boisterous, even the analytical and the subdued.  Perhaps our judgments of one another should be more subdued as well.
 
But let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious, 1 Pet 3:4.
 
Dene Ward

As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” Psalm 30:6.
 
              Several scholars believe Psalm 30 concerns the time David numbered the people of Israel and God punished them with a pestilence.  Before we get any further, let me caution you to read this in the 1 Chronicles 21 account and not just 2 Samuel 24.  You will get a much better portrait of David in Chronicles, one much more fitting a “man after God’s own heart.”
 
             But no matter when in David’s life this psalm was written, he tells us in verse 6 exactly what caused his problem.  In his prosperity he relied too much on himself.  Oh, he recognizes that his wealth and security came from God, v 7a, but he was so smug about it that God “hid His face.”  It was “my mountain,” not God’s, and if this is the time of the numbering, he was so full of himself that he sent Joab around not to take a full census, but to count “those who can wield a sword.”  He wanted to know how strong he was now that his foes were destroyed and his land was at peace, even though God told the people not to worry about such things, but to trust Him.  Even a man such as Joab knew that this numbering was not a good idea. 

              Here is what we as Americans steadfastly refuse to see, even Christians:  there is no temptation so great as prosperity.  Not just wealth, but security and peace along with it.  The scriptures are full of the warnings, but we heed them not.  What do we all want?  To get ahead.  What do we spend our lives doing?  Making money.  What do we dream about?  Being rich. 

              But hear this:  the New Testament does not speak of wealth in any way but as dangerous to our spiritual health. 

                Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth…For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  Matt 6:19,21.

              As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful, Matt 13:22.

              Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God, Matt 19:24.

              And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions, Luke 12:15.

              But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs, 1 Tim 6:9,10.

              Why do we insist on standing in the rattlesnake’s nest?  I understand wanting your children to have more and better than you did, but I do not want their souls at risk, and from everything I see and read in the Book that really matters, that is what wealth will do to them.  If David can fall because of it, so can you and so can I and so can they.  Any time you feel secure in your wealth, in your preparations for the future or for “unforeseen circumstances,” be careful.  God may very well send you a reminder that you cannot count on anyone but Him, just as He did to David.  It may be the most painful reminder you ever get.
 
​​Do not toil to acquire wealth; be discerning enough to desist. When your eyes light on it, it is gone, for suddenly it sprouts wings, flying like an eagle toward heaven, Prov 23:4,5.
 
Dene Ward

The earth is Jehovah's, and the fulness thereof; The world, and they that dwell therein. For he has founded it upon the seas, And established it upon the floods, Psalm 24:1,2.
 
            Many scholars believe that the twenty-fourth psalm was written by David to celebrate the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant to his new capital, Jerusalem.  When you read 1 Chronicles 13 and 15 and see the great amount of singing and worshipping going on, and then read the words to this psalm, that supposition makes good sense, and the ancient writings of the rabbis attest to it as well.

            However, even here at the beginning of the psalm David sees a danger in settling this manifestation of God’s presence in one location—the people would be tempted to think that God was stuck there, that He did not reign over the rest of the earth, much less any other people.  So he begins this psalm with the passage above to remind them that God could not be put in a literal box, and certainly not in a figurative box of one’s own expectations and understanding.  God made the whole world, and therefore rules the whole world and every person on it.

            David was right to be so concerned.  Ezekiel spent several of his opening chapters trying to get the same point across to the captives in Babylon by the canal Chebar, who believed that God was no longer with them, but still back in Jerusalem.  He is right here with you, Ezekiel told them.  That is the point of that amazing vision in chapter one—God can be anywhere at any time.

            Do you think we don’t have the same problem?  We keep trying to put God in a box called a church building or a meetinghouse or whatever your own bias leans toward calling it.  That’s why we have people who compartmentalize their religion.  They think “church” is all about what happens at the building, and the change in their behavior when they leave that building is the proof of it. 

            A man who can recite the “plan of salvation” in Bible class will cheat his customers to his own gain during the week.

            A woman who can quote proof texts verbatim on Sunday morning will turn around and gossip over the phone every other day of the week.

            A couple who appears every time the door is opened will carry on a running feud with a neighbor and treat each other as if none of the passages in the New Testament apply to anyone with the same last name. 

            What? God asked His people.  Will you act like the heathen around you six days a week “and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, ‘We are delivered!’—only to go on doing all these abominations?”  Jer 7:10.  David used the middle of this psalm to remind the people who was fit to come before the presence of the LORD—only men of holiness, honesty, and integrity, not just on the Sabbath, but always. 

            Because they put God in a box called after the covenant He made with them, they thought that their behavior only counted in His presence, forgetting the lessons that both David and Solomon had tried to teach them—God cannot be confined to anything manmade, not even the most magnificent Temple ever built by men, much less a comparatively miniscule box.  As David proclaimed in finishing Psalm 24, Who is this King of glory? The LORD, strong and mighty, the LORD, mighty in battle!...The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory! — Selah. 

            Selah--pause, and feel the impact.
 
Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? ​He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation, Psa 24:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!  Psalm 107:1
 
              Have you ever had a friend who made you wonder how you would be greeted and treated on any particular day?  Have you ever had a boss who one minute nominated you for employee of the year and the next left you in fear of losing your job?  Have you yourself ever woke up one morning and bitten everyone’s head off just for being alive and daring to smile?
 
             Moody people are difficult to deal with.  You never know how to act.  You never know what to say and not to say.  In fact, you do your best to avoid people like that if at all possible.  And when you recognize that you have done it to others, you loathe yourself for it.  It isn’t right; it isn’t fair; it certainly isn’t kind.

              This brings me to the verse at the top, a promise we all too often read without thinking, as if it were a meaningless refrain.  “His steadfast love endures forever.”  It isn’t just that God will love us forever, though that is reason enough to praise Him.  That word “endure” also carries with it the idea that His love is consistent and will never waver.  You will never find God in a bad mood. 

              You don’t have to worry that one day He has a headache and might be a little short-tempered.  He won’t ever get up on the wrong side of bed and snap at you because you dared to talk to Him before He had His morning cup of coffee.  He won’t decide on a whim one morning to hand you a pink slip.  God’s love is consistent—nothing can cause it to vacillate as long as you serve Him with all your heart.

              If we truly want to be more like Him, we should love Him the same way—whether the day brings good or ill, whether we feel well or not, and even when we suffer.  It’s not like He didn’t suffer for us, and not only did His love not waver then, it is precisely because of His unwavering love for us that He suffered.

              And if we want to serve Him, maybe we should do our best to get past those bad moods we foist on others.  There is no excuse for pettiness, for mean-spiritedness, for spite and malice, no matter what we are going through at the time, certainly not because we just happen to be in a bad mood that day.  As servants, we don’t have the right to be in a bad mood--we must be in the mood to love and serve Him every day, which means, according to Matthew 25, loving and serving others that way. 

              Unwavering, eternal love—that’s what He gives, and that is what we should return. 
 
Love is patient and kind…it is not arrogant or rude. It is not irritable or resentful… 1 Cor 13:4-6.
 
Dene Ward

Let me tell you a sad story.

            A long time ago, Keith had one of those “try-out” visits that churches offer preachers.  I’ve often wondered whether these things would go better if the church considered itself being “tried out” that weekend as well, but that’s another blog for another time.

            We had lunch and spent the afternoon with a couple who would probably have been considered “pillars” of the church, primarily because they were better educated, had more money, and could quote more scriptures. 

            The church sat smack dab in the middle of farm country amid acres of melons, corn, peas, and tobacco.  Most of the members lived in old frame farmhouses and had dropped out of or barely completed high school.  A remark was made about the church members that gave me pause, but I was very young, wrestling with a two year old and an infant so I didn’t trust myself to have good judgment on the matter or even to have heard it well enough to comment on, so I let it pass.

            I shouldn’t have.  We hadn’t been there six months before the same woman told me I needed to meet the “cream of the crop” in the county.  She proceeded to take me to a gathering of what she considered such women.  Having grown up with parents who told me that the best people in the world were those who sat on the pew next to you on Sunday mornings, I was shocked to see who this Christian considered “elite.” 

            As we ate our finger sandwiches and mingled, I discovered that they all had money, judging from their dress and jewelry, and later the vehicles they left in.  Most were professionals or married to one.  Some of the others were farmers all right, but not hardscrabble farmers or sharecroppers.  These farmers owned large farms or ranches, big business enterprises, or had inherited both the farms and the money from generations past.  And notice this—she and I were the only Christians there.

            Now consider David’s statement in Psalm 16:3.  As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.  David took delight in the saints in Israel, their social class notwithstanding. 

            Where do I find “social class” in that verse?  The word translated “excellent” in the psalm is translated “nobles” in 2 Chron 23:20 (KJV), and they are grouped with high ranking military officers and governors.  In Judges 5:15 it is translated “lordly.”  Jer 25:34 calls them “principals of the flock” and Psalm 136:18 says they are “famous.”  Just to make sure you know who we are talking about, Nehemiah complains in 3:5 that those “nobles” were too good to work like the common folk.  Now do you know who we’re talking about? 

            Our culture idolizes the cult of the rich and famous—how they dress, how they talk, how they live.  We call them “America’s royalty.”  We do the same when we show partiality in the church based upon wealth, popularity, education, and social status.  It is a tacit admission that we consider ourselves better than our brothers and sisters who do not have such “assets.”  It is the opposite of “each counting the other better than himself,” Phil 2:3.

            David says the true “nobles,” the “excellent ones,” are the people who fear God, who live the life they preach, with justice, fairness, kindness, goodness, and grace.  These people “delight” him.  Now ask yourself:  who do I spend most of my time with, especially in the church?  Are we as wise as David?

            One of the common questions in an interview is, “Who would you like to have dinner with?”  Journalists choose that question because the answer tells a whole lot more about that person than they seem to realize.  The person you want to eat with is the one you want to develop a relationship with, the one who interests you, the one you might even model your life after.  The answer to that question shows who you consider the aristocracy in your world.

            Who is on your list?
           
For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. Ps 84:10
 
 
Dene Ward

Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD, who walks in his ways! You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table. Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the LORD. The LORD bless you from Zion! May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life! May you see your children's children! Peace be upon Israel! Ps 128.
 
            Nearly every commentator believes the Psalms of Ascents (120-134) were psalms sung by families as they made their way up the hill (ascending) to Jerusalem to worship on the feast days, especially the agricultural feast days of Passover, Tabernacles, and Weeks.  As such you see in your mind’s eye the extended family of parents, children, grandparents, and perhaps maiden aunts or other singles stepping out to the tune of these psalms, year after year, a tradition kept by every generation.  This particular psalm is a picture of the life that family leads the rest of the year, another routine that some might even consider dull but which God calls blessed.

              The father works, but the implication is not one of a career-minded workaholic.  This man labors for his family, to provide those meals they meet around the table to eat together and the sacrifices they are able to make on their annual pilgrimages. 

              The mother is “a fruitful vine within the house.”  That does not mean she never steps outside the door—it means she, too, is family-oriented.  Like the ideal woman of Proverbs 31, caring for her family may force her to leave the home occasionally, but she is the direct opposite of that other woman in Proverbs:  She is loud and wayward; her feet do not stay at home; now in the street, now in the market, and at every corner she lies in wait, Prov 7:11-12.

              This blessed family meets at the table every evening and has their meal together.  And several times a year they make that journey to Jerusalem, to God’s Temple, to the assembled worship prescribed by the Law.  When I think about this family, I think of my childhood.  Every Sunday we had a routine.  We rose, ate breakfast together, and then dressed to go meet with the saints.  No one ever asked where we would be or what we would do on Sunday.  We all knew exactly where we would be and what we would be doing.

              When I raised my family, the same thing happened.  Maybe the routine was a little different, but it was a routine.  My boys never had to ask what or where.  They knew.

              And now I watch my son and his family doing the same thing.  It may be a different routine, but it leads them to the same place—a meeting with the people of God.

              A lot of people think that routine is useless, that since it is so much routine it no longer has any meaning.  But consider this for one minute.  What if we had to do this in secret?  What if the church had been bankrupted because of its beliefs, its leaders fined or even jailed, and our only recourse was to go “underground?”  This country is fast moving in that direction.  These things may not happen in our lifetimes, but our children or grandchildren will almost certainly face them.  I know God has a plan, but His plans have not always meant that none of His people suffered or even died.

              What you look at with disdain today may sometime in the future be a distant memory of how well we had it.  Of families that could meet every Sunday in a place they had pooled their resources to buy, with a sign on the side of the road that proclaimed who we are and what we were doing:  Christians meet here.

              Suddenly, the routine you consider boring and unmeaningful will be the thing you wish you had appreciated far more when you had it.  Think about that and appreciate it like you ought to today.
 
I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD!” Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem! Jerusalem— built as a city that is bound firmly together, to which the tribes go up, the tribes of the LORD, as was decreed for Israel, to give thanks to the name of the LORD. There thrones for judgment were set, the thrones of the house of David. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! “May they be secure who love you! Peace be within your walls and security within your towers!” For my brothers and companions' sake I will say, “Peace be within you!” For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good, Psalm 122
 
Dene Ward

I’ve known a lot of people who seem to think that true repentance is shown by moping around in a depressed state for weeks on end, as if the longer they beat themselves up the more worthy they are of forgiveness.  If we have learned anything in our Psalms study lately, it’s just the opposite. 
 
             David shows us in the progression of repentance that occurs between Psalms 51 and 32 that we should “get over it;” that a failure to do so is harmful to our souls.

              In our class we charted the verses in those two psalms.  We found similar things in each:  repentance, the effects of sin, and the effects that God’s forgiveness ought to have in our lives.  Guess what we discovered?  In Psalm 51, obviously written within a short time after Nathan’s visit to David in 2 Sam 12, even though at that time Nathan proclaimed God’s forgiveness, David is fraught with guilt and sorrow, even physically ailing from that burden of regret.  He uses every synonym you can imagine for sin and his plea for mercy.  In our modern divisions, those pleas take up seven verses.  Another three describe his woeful emotional and physical state after finally recognizing the enormity and complexity of what he has done, a total of ten verses.

              Yes, he finally recognizes his forgiveness and spends three verses on his desire to get back to work for the Lord and on his concern for others, a general list of things he plans to carry out as “fruit meet for repentance.” 

              And Psalm 32?  This psalm is much less emotional.  David repents yet again, but in two verses this time instead of ten.  Does that mean it is not as heartfelt?  Of course not, but his focus has changed.  This time he spends most of the psalm recounting what he has learned from his sin and how to avoid it in the future.  Listen to instruction, hear counsel, consider and come to an understanding, learn to control yourself.  He has gone past emotion and is now using the experience to gain wisdom and strength.  Then he spends more time in concern for others, that they learn the same lessons he has. Finally he shouts for joy, the joy found in forgiveness and a renewed fellowship with God.  This section takes up four verses of an eleven verse psalm, where in 51 we are looking at three verses of a nineteen verse psalm.  Those four verses in Psalm 32 are far more practical and helpful to us in terms of overcoming than the ones in 51, where his grief over his sin is the focus. 

              By the time of Psalm 32’s writing, David has learned an invaluable lesson—though indeed his sin was “ever before me,” he understood that allowing one’s grief to paralyze him and pull him down into despondency was as much an aid to Satan as sinning in the first place.  He was no longer serving God; he was no longer serving others.  In fact, he was bringing others down with his depression.  There is a selfishness in this sort of sorrow that is completely inappropriate—a “worldly” sorrow.

              Grief is certainly fitting.  I wonder if we ever experience the kind of grief David did over sin, especially as shown in Psalm 51.  If we did, perhaps we would sin less.  But there comes a time when we must “get over it” and get back to work.  “Restore unto me the joy of your salvation,” David says (51:12).   “Be glad in the Lord and rejoice,” and “Shout for joy!” (32:11). Sitting in sackcloth and ashes for the rest of your life, David is telling us, is not the way to show gratitude for your forgiveness.   
 
For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter, 2 Cor 7:8-11.
 
Dene Ward