Why I Love the Psalms

"And what do you have that you did not receive..."  1 Corinthians 4:7b

I love the psalms.  I just love them.  I sing them.  I reference them.  I pray them.  I love its songs of pain, its songs of joy, its songs of fear, faith and praise.  There is not an emotion that a human being can experience that is not expressed in one of the psalms. 

Any church that has released their hold of the psalms in corporate worship has done their congregation an enormous disfavour.  Sure, it's trendy now to adopt the more modern praise songs.  In fact, most churches have made that shift.  Praise, praise praise!  While praise is important, the Christian life is not about riding the mountaintops.  What about the Christian who enters the sanctuary sorely depressed?  He cannot see the bright countenance of His God's favour.  In fact, he wonders if God exists at all.  He's not looking to sing praises.  In fact, as the rest of the congregation is giddy with joy during song, he wonders if he's a Christian at all.

Or, what of the one who's conscience weighs heavily upon him?  Guilt is eating at him as his past transgressions come to haunt him yet again.  He remembers the lives he's destroyed.  He senses the burning displeasure of God and it crushes him.  He doesn't feel much like praising either.

Think of any congregation.  There are depressed people in the pews.  There are fearful people, abused people, persecuted people, thankful people, convicted people, joyful people, delivered people.  That's a huge range of life situations!  And the psalms speak to each and every one of them in their differing circumstances. That is the strength and beauty of the psalms.  They cover such a beautiful array of human emotion in worship.

John Calvin called the Psalms “an Anatomy of all Parts of the Soul”. As he explained: “There is not an emotion of which anyone can be conscious that is not here represented as in a mirror. Or rather, the Holy Spirit has here drawn to life all the griefs, sorrows, fears, doubts, hopes, cares, perplexities, in short, all the distracting emotions with which the minds of men are wont to be agitated.”

The psalms teach us that there is no shame to sing in utter despondency.  Look at psalm 88.  The psalms teach that there is a day of reckoning for the wicked.  Look at Psalm 73.  The psalms teach us that God created everything good.  Look at Psalm 8 or 104.  The psalms teach repentance.  Look at Psalm 51.  And of course the psalms promote praise.  Look at Psalm 95 or 100.  Yes, the psalms is where rich theological truths masterfully and beautifully entwine with human hearts and experiences.

When we find ourselves in various life circumstances--times where we do not even have to words to speak or to pray, the Lord in his infinite wisdom and tender compassion has given His bride a book of songs so that we may lay our hearts open to Him.  He gives us the words that so clearly reflect the raw and unbridled emotion of our hearts.  And He makes the words our own by making every pronoun singular possessive...'I, me, my.'  As a result, these psalms, these words become intensely personal.

But best of all, Christ is portrayed in the psalms.  There are psalms that exalt Christ.  They tell of His work and of His sufferings.  They tell of His exultation and His kingship.  You know, when Christ was on earth He sang the psalms Himself in the synagogue.  Christ also quoted the psalms while He preached and taught.  Think of when our Lord hung on His cross.  What did He say?  Psalm 22 is the perfect picture of our Lord's saddest hours--it is the record of His dying words.

When I sing the psalms I'm singing the very words of Christ.  I am worshipping as Christ worshipped.  I am sharing, even in just a small way, in His sufferings, in His praise, His laments and in His exultations. 

The psalms never leave us to wallow in our own flawed thought processes.  They always, always, always draw the eyes heavenward.  They allow us to express ourselves articulately and then beautifully directs our gaze to God's wonderful, condescending goodness to us--which ultimately is seen in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh precious psalms!  How good God is to have inspired and preserved such a book for His people.  What a gift for His saints. 

Not Afraid

'Let them fear death who do not fear sin; but let not God’s children be over much troubled at the grim face of that messenger, which brings them to the end of their sorrow, and the beginning of their joy.' - Thomas Watson

It's NOT About Me

" It is always the Holy Spirit's work to turn our eyes away from self to Jesus; but Satan's work is just the opposite of this, for he is constantly trying to make us pay attention to ourselves instead of to Christ.  He insinuates, "Your sins are too great for pardon; you have no faith.  You do not repent enough.  You will never be able to continue to the end.  You do not have the joy of His children.  You have such a weak hold of Jesus."

All these are thoughts about self, and we will never find comfort or assurance by looking within.  But the Holy Spirit turns our eyes entirely away from self.  He tells us that we are nothing, but that 'Christ is all in all.'  Remember, therefore, that it is not your hold of Christ that saves you; it is Christ.  It is not your joy in Christ that saves you; it is Christ.  It is not even your faith in Christ, though that is the instrument, but it is Christ's blood and His merits that save you; therefore, do not look as much to your hand with which you are grasping Christ, as to Christ.  Do not look to your hope, but to Jesus, the Source of your hope.  Do not look to your faith, but to 'Jesus, the author and finisher of your faith.'

We will never find happiness by looking at our prayers, our actions, or our feelings.  It is what Jesus is, not what we are, that gives rest to the soul.  If we would at once overcome Satan and have peace with God, it must be 'by looking to Jesus.'

Keep your eyes simply on Him.  Let His death, His sufferings, His merits, His glories, and His intercession be fresh on your mind.  When you wake in the morning, look to Him.  When you lie down at night, look to Him.  Oh, do not let your hopes and fears come between you and Jesus.  Follow hard after Him, and He will never fail you."

--C. H. Spurgeon on Hebrews 12:2

I think I will be quoting Spurgeon a little more in the near future.  He's such a tonic to the soul.

More Moose

I love moose.  Last week this young male came out of the bush and walked across our front yard--probably 20 feet from the house.  Naturally, I grabbed my camera and ran after him.  Beautiful beast!

 

 

 

Authors

I can not pick a favorite author of mine. I used to think I had a favorite author--until I realized that they keep changing.

I've learned that favorite authors are seasonal. Last year at this time I was thoroughly involved with Goodwin. 'Surely no one could speak to me as Goodwin does!' I claimed. Then I found Martyn Lloyd Jones and I very accutely appreciated the simplicity in which he conveyed big spiritual truths. 'Surely he is my favorite author now!' I pronounced.

Then last week I returned to Spurgeon who throws gems left and right so that I can not help but walk away from him feeling rich. He's a son of consolation. Right now Spurgeon's my favorite. I can't get enough of him. I'm scouring the internet for details of his life. I'm hunting for another fantastic biography of his to devour. He's occupying a lot of my thoughts. I wish I could speak to this servant right now. Such a kinship I feel with him.

So, I don't think I have a favorite author. Sometimes I need a lot of meat to chew on. Sometimes I just need an encouraging word. Sometimes I need to keep it simple. Sometimes I need to feel a little more connected to Christians across the globe. I'm always picking up somone different.

The great Puritan theologian, John Owen once remarked how he longed to preach in the same manner as John Bunyan--with poetic and flowery words. To which, Spurgeon offering this exhortation to a saint who has long joined Christ in heaven a bit before Spurgeon was even born:

"No, Dr. Owen, you had better remain Dr. Owen, for we could by no means afford to lose that mine of theological wealth which you have bequeathed to us. You would have looked very awkward if you had tried to talk like the marvelous dreamer, and he would have played the fool if he had imitated you. It is pitiful to hear comparisons made between the different servants of the same Lord."

And that's exactly a part of the beauty in the church--the diversity of gifts. When I need to read Thomas Goodwin, I want to hear Thomas Goodwin. When I need Spurgeon, I want to hear Spurgeon. I need the wisdom of both of these men (and many more). I need each of their individual gifts to the church. I really cannot elevate one above the other. God used them both mightily--for the benefit of His saints. There are no favorites in the kingdom of God. Each has its place. And so it is with the individuals who sit on my shelves. I love them all for exalting Christ. I love them each for their own style in doing so.

Oh, may God give the increase!

　

Battles Not Worth Picking

Oh, last week was long!  My 2 year old is pulling out all the stops and making her momma RUN!!!  Here's a few pictures along with some descriptions that talk about last week.

 

 

Courtney has strategically placed the stool by the fridge.  I have found her happily rummaging through the fridge as well. In this particular instance I managed to intercept in time.  She uses the same stool to raid the pantry at 5 am.

 

 

Next we have Eric doing his school work with a bag of crayons on his head.  I don't ask questions anymore.  He was doing his work so I don't care.  Oh, and he's not suffocating either.  This is called, 'Pick your battles,' and clearly this isn't one.

 

Back to the 2 year old....She found her wipes and proceeded to pull EVERY wipe out of the package.  Then she made beds for each of her people.  This picture was taken when she started the procedure.  I did not take a picture of the end result.  Again, 'pick your battle' comes into play here.  She was not endangering herself or plugging a toilet or depleting our food reserves or killing the dog or wrecking my lap top.  I can handle wipes being all over my living room floor.  I even salvaged most of them again for re-use!

Sigh...the 2 year old again.  One of my daily school tasks is to pry wedged, broken crayons out of the kids' pencil sharpener.  This is just photographic proof of the OBVIOUS culprit.  Maybe I should give her a bag of wipes....

 

 

And here's the 2 year old going through my medicine cabinet.  There's nothing horrifically dangerous in there.  This is just proof that the kid can climb to any height to get whatever she desires.  Oh, and I think she's picking her nose in this picture too.  She 'picks' up the most enchanting habits.

 

This next picture does not involve the 2 year old.  When 2 kids are bored they find the lids from the large totes and slide down the stairs.  Once again, that's fine with me.  This is not a battle I'm going to pick.  

And for now, that's about it. 

A Solitary Sunday Afternoon Walk