a sermon on Psalm 71.1-6
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama
The day her mother moved into her home, a woman I knew was deeply shaken. She
was distressed, and she explained it like this: My mother has always been
strong. I knew I could always count on her. When I was in need, I could turn to
her. She has always been loving and supportive. She encouraged me through
school, the early years of my marriage, and especially when my own children came
along. We even had to move in with her for a time, but she was glad to have us.
I don’t know what I would do without her. I wouldn’t have made it. She was my
rock, but now I have to be strong for her.
Are you fortunate enough to have someone like that in your life? A rock, someone
you can depend on, someone who is strong when you are weak, someone who keeps
you safe? Having someone like that makes you feel secure even when you are not
in need. And when you are, such a person makes all the difference. This woman
was shaken because her mother had been her rock, and now her rock was not strong
anymore. Now she had to be the strong one. That is a difficult emotional
adjustment. We all need a rock.
Or perhaps your rock is not a person but a place: your childhood home, a lonely
spot of beach, a place in the mountains. When you feel lost and alone, when life
gets to be too much, you can run there and hide, and while you are there you
feel secure. I hope church is a place like that for you. It always has been for
me. You come to worship, and you are surrounded by people who care about you.
The music of the organ enfolds you. You sing hymns. You pray. The words of
scripture roll over you like waves on the shore. Your life may be a hellish
nightmare, your problems overwhelming; but for one hour on Sunday, you know that
God is on his throne in heaven, and everything will be all right. You will leave
worship and go back to face your problems; but you will go refreshed just a
little, strengthened just a little, your faith held together just a while
longer, your troubles put into perspective and your suffering given meaning by
the cross and resurrection of Jesus. The church is not a rock for everyone. Some
people have been hurt by churches or pastors, and those who come back do so even
though church does not feel safe. But I hope you are not among them. I hope
church and worship are a rock for you.
This sermon is about rock as a metaphor for God. You would be surprised how
often scripture uses this image. The first time is when Jacob blesses his son
Joseph. He calls God “the Rock of Israel.” A few more instances have been
scattered throughout our worship this morning, and this is just a sample.
I think rock is such a powerful image for two reasons. First, the image is
universal. We use this word in everyday English with the exact same meaning the
ancient Hebrews used it. They had a bit more personal experience with the
literal meaning. When they said rock they may have thought of Mt. Zion, where
Jerusalem and the Temple were. When enemies came, God’s people ran for the
safety of Jerusalem. And it was a considerable shelter. It withstood a siege
from the mighty Assyrians. We do not use literal rocks that way anymore, but we
understand what the Bible means when it calls God our rock. It means he keeps us
safe. He is strong when we are weak. Rock is a timeless image of strength and
protection. So when we call God “my rock” we are saying something about both his
power and his loving care.
The second reason this image is powerful has to do with our weakness. We need a
rock. We need someone we can turn to. Someone who cares. Someone who can help
us. Someone who can make things better. When we call God our rock, we not only
confess his strength but also our own weakness. We need God. We cannot get by
without him. We find this frank admission in the Psalms. Psalm 94.17: “If the
LORD had not been my help, my soul would soon have dwelt in the land of
silence.” Or this from Psalm 124: “If it had not been the LORD who was on our
side—let Israel now say—if it had not been the LORD who was on our side, when
men rose up against us, then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their
anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away.”
We need a rock. We need God. Ironically, for the last 150 years or so, this has
been used as an argument against religion rather than for it. Certainly when
people confront their deep need, they often look to God. There are no atheists
in foxholes, as the saying goes. But very often critics of Christianity
especially have made it a point that we invent God because we need a rock. There
is no God, they claim, but we need a rock, and so we invent the ultimate
rock—one that never gets tired, always knows our needs, and so on—we invent God.
Sigmund Freud suggested that our religious beliefs are projections of our own
unfulfilled needs. Christianity calls God “our Father” because we need a strong
father figure to help us orient our lives and cope with all our problems. Karl
Marx called religion the opium of the people. He pictures the believer unable to
deal with reality and so retreating into a drug-induced stupor. The believer in
his view is like the drug addict, pitiful, but happy as long as he or she can
stay high.
And of course you may have met this objection in its more common form. A
coworker or a friend does not go to church, and if you invite them, they say
something like, “Church is OK for you if you need or want that sort of thing,
but I don’t.” Here in the South no one is going to be that honest. They say,
“Thanks, I’ll have to come visit your church sometime” meaning “never in a
million years.” Nevertheless there are people around us who think we practice
our faith because we are weak, and they do not need to pretend there is a God
because they are strong.
There are two ways we could answer this. The first comes from Alister McGrath.
If you do not know Alister McGrath, you need to become familiar with his work.
He is an Oxford scholar and theologian with doctorates in molecular biology and
theology. He started out as an atheist and became a Christian in his college
years. He points out the hole in this argument. To say there is no God because
we need God and so we invent him is flawed thinking. Consider: Just because I
need or want something does not mean it cannot exist. McGrath’s example is a
glass of water. Pretend my throat is going dry as I preach. I might want and
need a bit of water. Does this mean a glass of water cannot exist? Of course
not. Just because I am aware of my need, and just because a scientist can
explain the biological mechanism by which I become thirsty, we cannot say water
is an invention of my imagination.
McGrath would admit that our need for God cannot settle the question of God’s
existence. Sometimes we want or need something and it is not there. Still, our
need does not mean we have invented God. Our need could just as easily (more
likely, I would say) lead us to believe that we need God because God created us
for relationship with him. He intended us to find our fulfillment in him. He
purposely designed us to rely on him and his strength. In other words, God is
our rock because he wants to be.
I said there were two answers we could give to our critics. The other I heard
from a Christian musician at a concert many years ago, and I do not even
remember who the musician was. He said, “Some people say religion is for the
weak, and I agree. The problem is, I have never met anyone who is strong.” …
Psalm 14.1 says, “Fools say in their hearts, ‘There is no God.’” We might well
add that fools say they do not need God because they are strong. Their
foolishness consists of this: They do not know their own selves. They imagine
they are strong when they are weak. They pretend they have their life together,
when just below the surface, everything threatens to fly apart.
The wise know they are weak. Most people learn this lesson sooner or later. That
is one reason religion flourishes despite its critics. What does it take to
bring you to your knees because you are overwhelmed and you just cannot make it
on your own anymore? Losing your job? A heart attack? A cancer diagnosis? The
death of a friend? Have you ever noticed the way young people mourn when one of
their friends dies? I have seen whole high schools turn out for a funeral, even
though the student who died was no more than an acquaintance to most of them.
They are shaken. One day they feel invincible. The next they realize how fragile
life is. That’s a painful lesson to learn. What does it take to pull off our
blinders and show us we need a rock—the rock?
When you need a rock, God is there. Don’t take my word for it. Listen to the
testimony of God’s people through the ages, beginning with those ancient Hebrews
who wrote the psalms. Over and over again, those who have turned to God have
found in him a rock and a refuge. One of them was Martin Luther.
Everyone knows Luther started the Protestant Reformation. He changed the world,
so you may imagine he was strong, but he was not. You may think that he was weak
before he found grace through Christ but strong ever after. Not so, he was weak
his whole life long. Let’s take a look at one year in his life, 1527, because
that is probably the year he wrote that powerful hymn we sang at the beginning
of our worship, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” Luther was 44 years old, and 10
years had passed since he published his 95 theses, which started the
Reformation. What was life like for this servant of God as he answered God’s
call and did his very best?
First of all, Luther lived in uncertain times. In 1527, the Turks were
threatening the eastern borders of Germany. These Muslim armies aimed to conquer
all of Europe. They were coming, and it was all the Holy Roman Emperor could do
to hold them back. Meanwhile, on the other side of Germany, France had declared
war. Meanwhile, the black plague was sweeping the continent, and in 1527 it
reached Wittenberg, where Luther lived. Most residents fled the city, but both
Luther and his wife Katie stayed to care for the sick. They almost lost their
one-year son to the disease, but he made a miraculous recovery. Enemies around
him, death in his midst, is it any wonder Luther thought the world would
probably end soon. It couldn’t go on like this!
Personally, things were no better for Luther. For one thing, he had a price on
his head. From 1521 until the day he died, Luther was a marked man. Anyone who
killed him could claim a reward. Try to imagine what that would be like. In
April 1527 he had a dizzy spell while preaching and could not finish the sermon.
He took to bed and suffered a long illness. He thought he was going to die.
Plus, throughout his life, Luther was subject to bouts of melancholy and
depression. His circumstances didn’t help, but Luther always seemed to wrestle
with his own spiritual demons. He was haunted by the criticism, “If this is what
the Bible really means, why hasn’t the church been teaching it all along? Why
are you the first to notice it?” He was sure he was right about the Bible’s
message of grace, but he often felt very much alone. How could he, a mere monk
and professor, stand against the whole church and empire? He was also distressed
by the excesses his teachings could lead to. Inspired by his words and deeds,
peasants had risen up throughout Germany in armed revolt. Luther sided with the
princes because he was horrified by the anarchy and destruction the peasants
were causing. But when the princes suppressed the rebellion with excessive
brutality, Luther was horrified again.
At one point in 1527 Luther wrote this: “I spent more than a week in death and
hell. My entire body was in pain and I still tremble. Completely abandoned by
Christ, I labored under the vacillations and storms of desperation and blasphemy
against God.” The next time you think you have things tough … think of Luther.
And this is the man who gave us the hymn, “A might fortress is our God, a
bulwark never failing; our helper he amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing.”
He certainly knew something about those floods! Luther’s own devastating
experiences confirmed the message he found in scripture, which he expresses so
eloquently in the hymn: “Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would
be losing.” Christ Jesus, however, is on our side “and he must win the battle.”
Luther based this hymn not on Psalm 71, our scripture reading, but on Psalm 46:
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we
will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the
heart of the sea.” Both these psalms look to God as our refuge and fortress. God
is our strength. God is our rock.
God is your rock. God is your safe shelter, a strong and mighty refuge. I want
to end this sermon by offering you four practical ways that you can find your
strength in God. The best part of this message is grace. You do not have to make
God your rock. He already is. You are weak, and he is strong. He shelters you
under his wing—another scriptural image. So in one sense, you do not have to do
anything. This sermon is about what God does for you. That’s important. Do not
miss it.
At the same time, there are some practical things you can do as you depend upon
God. I want to share four of them with you now.
1. Every morning, sing a hymn and read a psalm. You may do this first thing when
you get up, or with your breakfast, or first thing when you sit down at your
desk at work (if you have that sort of job); but do it in the morning. It does
not work nearly so well at night. What you want to do is set the tone for your
day. Choose a hymn that is meaningful to you. Try to find one that is addressed
to God like a prayer. You do not have to sing it. You can say it, silently or
out loud. Offer it as a prayer. Then read one psalm. Start with Psalm 1 on the
first day, and go straight through. I am not sure why this works so well, but it
does. If you have trouble choosing a hymn, you can use mine, “Be Thou My
Vision.” During one difficult period of my life, I would go to work, sit down at
my desk, look up at that hymn, which I had taped to a filing cabinet, offer it
as my prayer, then read a psalm, also as a prayer. Meditate on the hymn or psalm
as you have time. You are not doing anything except reminding yourself of God’s
strength and offering yourself to him anew. Try it.
2. Do not neglect worship. I have seen a curious pattern of behavior among many
Christians. When life is good, they come to worship. Tragedy strikes and they
stop. It is as if they are angry or hurt with God (a feeling I can understand),
so they give up on him (always a mistake). When you are hurting or confused is
when you need God’s strength the most. You need God all the time, of course,
whether you feel as if you do or not. But rain or shine, worship God alongside
other believers on Sunday morning.
3. Offer heartfelt prayer. Some Christians are afraid to express in prayer what
they really think and feel. This is ridiculous because God knows already. More
importantly, God wants you to. Some people pray with the awkward formality of a
person with bad credit asking a bank officer for a loan. When you pray, don’t
treat God like a stranger. Again, the psalms will help you with this. If God is
not offended by anything in there, he will not be offended by anything you pour
out from your heart.
4. Most importantly, you need a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. A
Christian is a person in whom Jesus Christ lives. All you have to do is trust
him, give yourself to him, and resolve to live his way as he gives you strength
and wisdom to do so. When you are united with him by baptism and faith, you
become a Christian and you begin a lifelong journey in his footsteps. Along the
way you will discover more and more his strength and his faithfulness.
God is your rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save you. He is your rock and
your refuge. Amen.