Four phrases jumped out at me as I read this psalm: “Oppressed” – “In times of trouble” – “Afflicted” – “Needy”. Compare that list with the descriptions of YHWH in Psalm 9: “Refuge” – “Righteousness” – “Mercy” – “Hope” – “Justice.” When the oppressed, troubled, afflicted and needy cry out to God, He hears and responds in love. “The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble” (vs 9). The outcasts and outsiders in Jesus’ parable in Luke 14 are those that are invited in to celebrate with the Master. The question that arises then, is why doesn’t the Church’s heart break for that which breaks the heart of the her Lord?

We’ve all seen movies where the character is in great trouble and fleeing from the enemy and falls onto the steps of the cathedral crying, “Refuge, Refuge!” But the door to the cathedral is locked and instead of finding help in a time of need, is captured by the enemy. There are people in our neighborhoods, our offices, our families that are dying even while we, the Church, sit and watch. They are longing for a place where they find help in their time of need, refuge in their times of trouble, a champion to free them from their oppressors and hope for their afflictions. Yet we we sit and watch.

The Church has been entrusted with a tremendous gift – the gospel of Jesus Christ. How is it then, that we do not respond to the pleas of the afflicted and needy the way Jesus did? Maybe we can’t multiply loaves and fish, but we can feed the hungry. Maybe we can’t make the lame to walk, but we can carry out bed-ridden friends to Jesus (even if we do have to put a hole in the roof to do it!). Maybe we can’t help them into the water when it is stirred by an angel, but we know the One who can stir their hearts. Maybe we can’t bring a dead friend back, but we serve the One who is the resurrection and the life.

A couple of days ago I received an update letter from Desire Street Ministries. Their founder just stepped down and Danny Wuerffel has accepted the invitation to lead the ministry moving forward. I praise God for DSM. They understand Psalm 9. Working with the poorest of the poor (Desire Street in New Orleans is among the single most poverty-stricken neighborhoods in the entire country), they reach out in love believing the gospel of Jesus Christ along can transform the community both spiritually and physically.

I pray that the Church (starting with me) would grieve at the despair all around in our world and then labor for the sake of Christ to bring oppression, trouble, affliction and need to an end. James 1:27 declares, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” Together, as the Church, let us pursue that pure and faultless religion that Church might be, once again, a place where the troubled can come crying “Refuge” and find peace for their weary souls. Maybe then we, like our Lord, will be described as people of mercy, justice and hope.

This semester at RTS I have what would often be referred to as the “existential” classes.  That is, the classes that require students to look inside themselves.  The Psalms journal is one such assignment.  In addition to that, I also have to go on an overnight retreat at a retreat center or somewhere.  All this introspection is really difficult for me.  Introspection is hard work.  I really don’t enjoy doing it.

As I’ve done all this, I’ve been reminded of a book I read a couple of years ago called “Sacred Pathways” by Gary Thomas.  I highly recommend it.  So often in evangelical circles, someone becomes a Christian and then learns the “requirements”.  That is, you have to have a quiet time, read your Bible, pray, journal and meditate on the Psalms.  If you do those things, you will be a good Christian.  As helpful as I think the Navigator’s wheel is, for many it is too constricting.  “Sacred Pathways” was a very freeing book for me.  Journaling and solitude are difficult for me.  And, more importantly, are not the things I do to grow spiritually.  The basic premise of “Sacred Pathways” is that there are a bunch of different ways people come to God.  Find the pathway that most effectively allows you to pursue Christ and use it.  Don’t neglect the others, but give preference to that which fits who you are.  Not all Christians are good, for example, at journaling.  So why do we force them to do it?  In the past, in situations where I was sent off with just my Bible, pen and paper for an overnight of solitude, those times have been the hardest, least beneficial times in my spiritual life.

When I teach tennis, it quickly becomes obvious what strokes a player is really good at and which ones he is not good at.  It is important to spend time improving and solidifying those weakness such that the player feels confident in them.  But, even more importantly, if a player has a really strong forehand and a weak backhand, I want to teach that player how to maximize his forehand.  What court positioning allows him to hit his forehand the most?  How can he be aggressive when he gets a short high forehand?  I want the player to be willing to use his backhand, but for his to look to win with his forehand.

Spiritually, “Sacred Pathways” encourages us in the same way.  What pathway is your strength?  Find it and use it to grow.  Sure up those areas where you are weak, but look to exploit your strengths that you might encounter the presence of Holy God.  And, after all, that is the goal.  A system of quiet times, journaling and solitude may be the right pathway for some, but not for all.  Find your pathway because that pathway is leading you to the throne of grace.

There are two primary questions I believe that all people are asking. People from every race, every language, every time and every place have asked these two questions. Who am I? It’s a question of identity. Why am I here? A question of purpose. People long to know their identity and purpose. Do they matter? Are they significant?

Science and humanism answer those questions. The naturalistic worldview tells us who we are and why we are. Who am I? Well, I’m an accident. The result of random evolutionary processes. Why am I here? For my own pleasure. I need to get what I can, when I can. If it will bring pleasure or entertainment, if even for a moment, go get it. Because that’s all I’ve got.

The Christian theistic worldview answers those same questions. However, the answers are significantly different. Look at how Psalm 8 answers these questions. Who am I? “What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” David is asking the question of identity right here in the psalm. What is his conclusion? “You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor” declares verse 5. People, you and I, have been made to rule over all creation (verses 6-8). We are the hallmark, the pinnacle, of God’s creation. Consider these words from the song we all learned as little kids: “Jesus loves the little children, All the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, All are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world.” Tall and short, pretty or not-so-handsome, artistic or academic in bent. All of you, all of us, have been crowned with the very glory of God himself.

Knowing who I am as the pinnacle of God’s creation excites me to ask the second question. Why am I here? As verse 2 says, “From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise.” I am here to praise God. I am here to exalt the name of Christ. I am here to glorify the Creator of all the universe.

Scientific naturalism does answer the questions of identity and purpose. But their answer has no hope. In Christ, I begin to grasp how much I do matter. I have an identity as the crowned glory of all creation. I have a purpose to glorify God. So, with David I proclaim in exaltation, “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”

One concept jumped out at me in this psalm of David and that his assuredness of his own righteousness and innocence.  He stands before God and declares that “If I have done evil to him who is at peace with me or without cause have robbed my fow – then let my enemy pursue and overtake me; let him trample my life to the ground and make me sleep in the dust” (vs4-5).  Only one who is tremendously self-assured that he has committed no wrong-doing could make such a claim.  He continues, “Judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness, according to my integrity, O Most High” (vs8).  I’m not so sure I want God to do that to me because I’m not so sure I’m as innocent as David claims to be.

This psalm challenges me in two ways.  First, it challenges me to claim Christ as my righteousness.  As 2 Corinthians 5:21 declares, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”  My righteousness is found in Christ alone, my Savior and my King.  The second challenge is to pursue holiness, righteousness and integrity in the way I live that I could stand before YHWH and say to Him that I have lived in holiness all the days of my life.  I need to purge the sin from my wicked heart that my life would be pure and not defiled.

What a powerful psalm.  For seven verses David cries out in desperation for God to hear his cry and rescue him from his enemies.  The longing of his heart is so exposed.  He wants God to act.  There are times in my life where God feels distant or it seems to me like God is asleep at the wheel.  God, where are you?  Aren’t you going to get involved here?  Are you just going to let me be buried alive by this?  But after those seven verses of lament to claim the victory He knows belongs to God and that God has promised to hear him in love.  “The Lord has heard my cry for mercy; the Lord accepts my prayer” (vs 9).

I have a friend Wendy that wrote a song called “Holding On”.  The message of the song is that even when it feels like you’ve let go of God, he is still holding on to you.  He won’t let you go.  He will hear your cry.  And he will respond in faithful love.