A Sermon on Psalm 13

Psalm 13 and other laments like it express my mood for the last six months. As I have been in the pits, God has seemed distant and uncaring. I have wondered how much longer the dark days will continue for me. How much longer must I be tormented by anxiety and uncertainty about the future? For how much longer will someone else be allowed to leave a trail of carnage behind him on account of his own idiosyncrasies and errors? Why has God forgotten about me, and will any good come out of this?

Perhaps you can relate. No group of Christians is immune to hardship, affliction, and heartache. Some of you may be facing sickness in your own bodies or have aging parents who are not in the best of health. Perhaps the death of a loved one has you overwhelmed with grief. Others may be facing financial woes or job insecurity. In this world, cars crash, houses burn down, politicians waste our money, corporations downsize, and small businesses go belly up. Then there are romantic break-ups, unwanted divorce, loneliness, and abuse. Christian parents can have wayward children, and too many children have uncaring, even absent, parents. What’s more, church politics tear us up inside and rob us of the one place where we might expect to find asylum from life’s harshness.

The world in which we live is a broken place ravaged by sin. The heaven for which we long is yet to come. Being a Christian does not afford immunity from physical pain and mental anguish. Sometimes it is impossible to figure out what God is doing. My guess is that some of you are in dark days, no doubt asking how much longer. Could it be that you are feeling betrayed, victimized, abandoned, or alienated? Might you be wondering where God is and how these trials manifest his love?

Psalm 13 tells us that we are not alone. The psalmist also felt out of sorts and disoriented, even forsaken and forgotten. And this psalm is by no means an anomaly in the book of Psalms. More than a third of the psalms are laments. Keep in mind that these sometimes irreverent poems are inspired by God. He wants them in his Word, and he included them for our benefit. Let’s discover how this one can meet us when we are stressed and distressed

What’s clear in a lament like Psalm 13 is that the psalmist vents his pain and anger. In other words, he is honest about his feelings—so honest as to be bold, brash, and nearly blasphemous. We don’t hear many frank prayers like this in church. Is it because we don’t want to question God’s power or risk arousing his ire? Out of respect or fear, we pretend that his world is right. So we speak politely and deferentially to God and reserve our raw emotions for a counselor, attorney, friend, or spouse.

But the world isn’t right, and the psalmist knows it. There’s some unidentified enemy that is getting the better of the psalmist. Is the enemy also getting the better of God, or does God not even care? As the crisis drags on without relief, the psalmist can’t help but wonder. In fact, he wonders out loud by talking to God about the problem. Psalm 13 lets us know that no topic is off limits for prayer. God wants us to tell him what we are thinking and how we are feeling. Not to do so is to withhold parts of our lives from him. It is a sign of faith to get angry with God and hold him to his promises. Righteous anger expects, even demands, that God comes to the aid of his people.

So then, the psalmist directly informs God that he is on the verge of despair. He cannot cope much longer, and he has run out of hope for a solution. Someone or something beyond his control threatens grave harm. Notice the fourfold repetition of the words “How long?” As the psalmist continually mulls the crisis over in his mind, he becomes more desperate. His insides are churning, and he feels the tightness of stress throughout his body. In Psalm 143:7, the psalmist pleads: “Answer me quickly, O Lord! My spirit fails!” Verse 3 of our text expresses the same sentiment: “Answer me, God, before it’s too late. I can’t remain in the dark and bear this much longer. You have to come to my defense—now.”

Can you identify with the psalmist? Have you been consumed with and exhausted by an overwhelming burden? You know, it’s your first thought in the morning and your last thought at night. In fact, you wake up each morning dreading another day of no escape. During the day, the burden hangs over your head and saps your vitality and joy. This has been the last six months of my life. Maybe you, too, are gripped by panic, inevitability, helplessness, sorrow, and/or regret, and the cry of your weary soul is: “How much longer, O God?”

Notice, though, how the psalmist identifies God. He uses Yahweh, the covenant name for God. The psalmist doesn’t just address an impersonal Supreme Being or Creator. God has entered his creation to reveal himself and to relate to his creatures. What’s more, he has made a covenant to redeem his people from their sin. The words steadfast love in verse 6 have to do with commitment, loyalty, and faithfulness. While the psalmist can’t explain God’s role in his current circumstances, he still knows from God’s acts in history that God is good. God has a track record of entering into intimate relationship with people. He cares about them and takes care of them. In other words, God’s love relationship with his people is costly and sacrificial.

God’s love, of course, is seen most clearly in the incarnation of God’s own Son. In Jesus, God has lived among us and experienced our infirmities. He can identify with our weakness, frustration, and disappointment. Jesus was on the receiving end of betrayal, accusation, and execution. He knows what it’s like to be all torn up inside. While he hung on the cross, one of these laments (Psalm 22) was on his lips. Jesus could have just as appropriately recited Psalm 13.

Nevertheless, God used that injustice to accomplish our redemption. Jesus’ emotional and physical suffering was not beyond God’s control. It was part of his plan to which the second person of the Trinity had willingly and lovingly consented in eternity past. While Herod, Pilate, and the soldiers were clueless as to what was really happening, God in his unfathomable purpose was up to something counter-intuitive. He was making eternal life possible for those who deserve eternal death. Yes, there were hints of substitutionary atonement in the sacrificial system of the Old Testament, but who would have imagined that God would assume human flesh and bear in our place the terrifying penalty for our pride and disobedience? That is the ultimate expression of steadfast love.

The psalmist, of course, doesn’t know how his dire situation will showcase God’s steadfast love, but the recollection of what God has done gives a much needed shot of perspective and hope. As with most laments, Psalm 13 ends with a promise to praise when help comes. You and I can relate to the psalmist. God makes us go through severe mercies and frowning providences. In the midst of them, our future can look bleak, and we don’t know how things will turn out. Even so, what God has done in the past on our behalf assures us that he hasn’t forgotten us. Although he is under no obligation to explain his immediate course of action, the promises of the covenant remain in effect and should sustain us. God has pledged to preserve and deliver his beloved people. Somehow—we often don’t know how—God will work out everything for good. He redeems our suffering for our benefit and even the benefit of those who watch us go through it.

Still, the psalmist’s experience informs our response to dark days, weeks, months, and years. We wait in the midst of being disoriented. If the psalmist is asking, “How long?” then some time has passed. God has his own schedule for loving and answering his people. From our perspective, God seems to take his time, doesn’t he? In fact, we are bewildered by how long God takes to get things done. From his perspective, though, he is never late. All the perplexing variables contribute to the working out of his plan. They do not get in the way of God’s plan; they are the way. Hence, we wait with the assurance that he is in control.

That assurance delivers us from yielding to despair. The temptation, of course, is to give up hope. Our circumstances can seem more real than God’s power. It is at this point that we become aware of our complete dependence on God. If God is who this book says he is, we have no where else to go. As we keep praying “How long?” we realize that nothing else can help. We are thrown completely on the grace and mercy of God. That realization, coupled with what we already know to be true about God, is the antidote for despair. God’s faithfulness and compassion enable us to face each new day.

The trouble and disorientation that occasion prayers of lament are the soil from which new growth sprouts in the form of a closer relationship with God. God uses frowning providences to deliver us from illusions of autonomy. We are not able to gain life, security, or even goodness on our own. It is foolish to imagine that we are self-sufficient. What this means is that God doesn’t help those who help themselves. Rather, he helps those who can’t help themselves and know it.

Happiness, then, comes to those who admit that something is wrong. Such people do not resign themselves to the status quo, nor do they vainly put their trust in the upward climb of humanity. Rather, they go to God for solutions and strength. They depend on him and remain open to how he will yet surprise them.