I read somewhere that this little book was probably written by Solomon. There is some debate about whether that is true or not, but I am going to go with it because I think it makes sense. We know Solomon was David’s son, a great king, and a very wise man. But we also know from Scripture that Solomon seems to have wandered away from the Lord for a time.

And when you have that kind of riches, money, wealth, wives, concubines, power, and influence, I would guess it would be pretty easy to wander away.

Someone made the suggestion that perhaps, as Solomon came back from that wandering, he wrote this little book of Ecclesiastes from an entirely different perspective. Maybe he had reached the point where he looked at everything he had accumulated and realized that it still did not matter.

I do not know for certain.

But I am going with Solomon.

And these opening eleven verses set the stage for the entire book.

The Preacher tells us:

“Vanity of vanities…all is vanity.”

He asks:

“What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?”

A generation goes and another generation comes. The sun rises and sets. The wind blows around and around. The streams run into the sea, but the sea is never full. The eye is never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing.

And there is nothing new under the sun.

Then he says something even harder:

There is no remembrance of former generations, and eventually there will be no remembrance of those who come after us either.

That is quite an opening.

So let me introduce you to a guy named Mike.

Mike is a lot like you.

Mike wakes up every day. He has his cup of coffee. Maybe he watches a little news. He goes to work.

He drives his commute, does his eight or nine hours, takes it from the boss, and drives back home to his little house where his family resides.

Mike may have a few chores here or there.

He eats dinner with his family.

Maybe he watches a little television.

Maybe he doom-scrolls before he goes to bed.

Then he wakes up and does the same thing over again.

And he does it for his entire life.

Mike is always looking for something new, something to change the pace of life a little bit. He is always looking for something a little better.

Every time he drives through a neighborhood, he sees a nice house.

He sees a new car in a driveway and thinks, That’s nice.

He sees the neighbors getting a pool and says, Huh. That’s not a bad idea.

He is always looking for something new, better, and exciting.

And the Preacher, the son of David and king in Jerusalem, simply says:

It is all vanity.

But there are a few things Ecclesiastes is not saying.

It is not saying nothing matters.

Things do matter.

It is not saying work is pointless, although sometimes it may sound that way.

It is not saying there is literally nothing new. Think about the technology that has appeared during our lifetimes. AI is new. The world produces new inventions all the time.

And “under the sun” does not simply refer to atheists.

“Under the sun” is our plane of existence.

This is where you and I live.

This is where we are.

What Ecclesiastes is telling us is that all these temporary things we own, accumulate, achieve, and experience are not permanent.

We keep asking the world to give us something it cannot give.

We think a better job will do it.

A better title.

A better house.

A better car.

Something newer.

Something bigger.

Something different.

We keep asking these things to fulfill us in some way.

And they cannot.

So here is the proposition:

Because nothing under the sun can make you permanent, stop asking this world to make you last.

I do not mean “last” as in first and last.

I mean permanent.

Enduring.

We have to stop asking the world to do for us what it cannot do, because there is nothing permanent in this world.

Your Life Is a Vapor

Verses one and two tell us something very simple:

Your life is a vapor.

The Preacher uses this word over and over again. Your Bible may say vanity. Another may say futility. Some translations say meaningless.

But I would be careful with meaningless. I think that is a little too strong.

The Hebrew word is hevel.

Vapor.

Breath.

Mist.

That is different from meaningless.

A vapor is real.

Your breath is real.

Mist is real.

But you have a hard time holding onto it.

That is what he is telling us.

Your life is like that.

It is not that your life is not real. It is real.

But it is very hard to hold onto.

Our lives, our jobs, our possessions, and all this stuff we have are one big vapor.

That is the warning Ecclesiastes gives us.

All this temporary stuff cannot give us permanence.

It is not its job.

What Will You Have Left?

Then he asks in verse three:

“What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?”

If verse two is the theme of Ecclesiastes, verse three is the controlling idea.

It is almost a math problem.

Take your job.

Add your possessions.

Add what you own.

Add your accomplishments.

Add everything you have done in this life.

Add it all up.

Work.

Possessions.

Accomplishments.

Achievements.

Add, add, add.

Then subtract death.

What is left?

What does man gain from all this toil?

From the standpoint of this earth?

Zero.

Nada.

Zip.

Zilch.

Think about it.

Who is going to live in your house fifty years from now?

Somebody else.

Will somebody else have your job?

Absolutely.

And all this stuff we own has about three possible destinations.

Somebody keeps it.

Somebody sells it.

Or somebody throws it away.

That is what happens to our stuff.

Eventually, much of what we thought was so important ends up in a landfill.

I remember being a young husband and father. In those early days of life, it was always:

We need this.

We have to have this.

This is important.

I’ve got to have this.

We have moved two or three times since then.

Guess where most of that stuff is?

Gone.

Broken.

Sold.

Thrown away.

It does not last.

The World Will Keep Going Without You

Then, in verses four through eight, the Preacher tells Mike:

Look around you.

Verse four says:

“A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever.”

Isn’t that interesting?

The mountains are going to last.

The oceans are going to last.

This creation God has made continues.

What changes?

Us.

One generation comes.

One generation goes.

Then another comes along.

The sun rises.

The sun goes down.

It goes back to where it started.

The wind blows south, then north, around and around.

The streams run to the sea, but the sea never fills.

Everything is a cycle.

It just keeps going.

And now the Preacher tells Mike:

Don’t just look around you.

Look within yourself.

Verse eight says:

“The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.”

Our desires are never satisfied.

Our appetite for more stuff does the same thing.

One more purchase.

One more achievement.

One more experience.

One more thing.

But it is never enough.

Remember when you bought that new thing and it was so cool for a month or two or three?

Then it just became that thing.

Now you have to clean it.

Wash it.

Fix it.

Maintain it.

Repair it.

Eventually replace it.

The hamster wheel continues.

The eye is not satisfied.

The ear is not filled.

Our appetite never finally says, “Enough.”

Even Your Memory Will Disappear

Then verses nine through eleven are where it starts to hurt.

The Preacher says:

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.”

Technology changes.

Humanity does not.

Hundreds of years ago, the printing press was amazing.

“We’re printing books, baby. Here we go.”

Today we carry around amazing pieces of technology that allow us to talk to someone on the other side of the world.

But what does not change?

Greed.

Fear.

Decay.

Sin.

We take these incredible things we invent and create, and somehow we still figure out how to pervert them and use them to ruin ourselves.

Then verse eleven says:

“There is no remembrance of former things.”

That is sobering.

Human beings like to think we can make something that will cause us to be remembered.

We want immortality.

We want to have done something.

Even churches and preachers sometimes speak this way.

Live your dream.

Fulfill your destiny.

Build a legacy.

Legacy is a big word these days.

But even the tombstone does not last.

I have seen gravestones in old cemeteries where the wind and weather have eroded the name until all that remains is a rock.

People forgotten.

My cousin did an amazing thing during COVID. She put together a huge binder tracing the Simpson family back through the years.

I looked through it a few months ago.

Names.

Just names on a page.

Gone.

Some of them we know where they are buried.

Some we know what they did for a living.

Barely.

Their memories have faded.

And if we are like Mike—and we are like Mike—then at this point we are probably thinking:

Good grief. This is miserable.

So Mike begins to object.

Objection #1: “Are You Saying All of Life Is Bad?”

No.

Go all the way back to Genesis 1 and 2.

God made the heavens and the earth.

He made the sun, moon, and stars.

He made the grass beneath our feet.

He created the wind.

And what did he call it?

Good.

He made the animals—everything that flies, crawls, walks, and swims.

Good.

Then he made man, the height of his creation.

Good.

And he gave man work to do.

Subdue the earth.

Work itself was good.

Good, good, good.

Then Genesis 3 happens.

Beloved, this is where everything went to trash.

This is the problem.

Everything that was good and wonderful became corrupted.

People ask:

Why is there evil?

Why do people do horrible things?

What is wrong with this world?

Why is all of this happening?

There is one simple word:

Sin.

Adam was tempted to be like God.

He disobeyed God’s clear command.

And sin brought corruption.

Decay.

Frustration.

Death.

That is why the world is the way it is.

When we look Mike in the eye, we have to tell him:

Mike, this world is actually good.

What God made is good.

You, as a human being, bear the image of God.

But because of sin, everything has been corrupted.

Sin has perverted everything we touch.

We can create technology capable of amazing things and still use it to lie, steal, abuse, and destroy.

The world is good.

But it is broken.

Objection #2: “Then Why Do Anything at All?”

Mike may say:

If everything is corrupted, then what is the point?

Why have a job?

Why work?

Why not get a tent, go live down by the river, and forget the whole thing?

Because Ecclesiastes is not the only book in the Bible.

Psalm 90, attributed to Moses, sounds in some ways like Ecclesiastes.

Moses reminds us that life is brief.

But he does not tell us life is meaningless.

He prays:

“Teach us to number our days.”

Why is that good?

Because how many days are you guaranteed?

None.

All you have is this moment.

Right here.

Right now.

Make the most of the moment.

Every day needs to count.

Then Moses says:

“Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands.”

I love that.

Establish our work.

God says working is good.

Subdue the earth.

What matters is the work God has given us right now.

I have felt this temptation many times in preaching ministry.

I think:

Man, I wish I could get these sermons to more people.

People need to hear this.

This is good stuff.

Preachers have always had that temptation.

There were tape ministries.

Then CDs.

Then MP3s.

Then YouTube.

And now I am standing here recording my voice so I can run it through AI, clean it up, and put it on the internet just in case one person reads it.

My stats stink, so probably not.

But there is still some little part inside of me saying:

This is pretty good. I should tell people about this.

But what I have discovered is this:

This moment, right here, right now, talking to you, is the most important moment.

In fact, it is the only thing that matters right now.

Tomorrow, we go to our jobs.

We teach.

We work.

We raise our families.

We do whatever God has put in front of us.

And in that moment, that is the most important thing we are doing.

So Moses is right.

Number your days.

Ask God to establish the work of your hands.

Mortality should make us wise, not lazy.

Objection #3: “If Everything Is Futility, Then There Is No Hope”

Now we are finally getting where we need Mike to go.

If this world is all there is, Mike, then yes.

You have zero hope.

You have wishful thinking.

You may have your accomplishments.

You may have your money.

You may have your memories.

But you do not have hope.

Then Paul writes in Romans 8:

“For the creation was subjected to futility…”

Paul gets Ecclesiastes.

Creation has been subjected to futility.

We live inside this pressure pot.

This is our existence.

But then Paul gives us two wonderful words:

“In hope.”

Creation itself will be set free from slavery to corruption and brought into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.

That matters.

Yes, creation has been subjected to futility.

Yes, we live in this broken world.

Yes, the corruption is real.

But futility is not final.

Even creation groans for freedom.

And all of this is connected to the salvation God has accomplished in Christ.

Not us by ourselves.

Christ in us.

Futility is real.

But it is not final.

Nothing we build can defeat death.

Our society can create AI, medicines, machines, technology, and every kind of advancement imaginable.

But none of it defeats death.

Death is the ultimate leveler of all of us.

No matter our status.

And here is what we need to tell Mike:

Jesus entered life under the sun.

He came from heaven into our plane of existence.

He entered this world.

And what did he do?

He defeated death.

Ecclesiastes asks:

What gain is there in your labor?

What do you profit from all this work?

But Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 15 that our labor in the Lord is not in vain.

Why?

Because Christ has overcome.

Christ has been resurrected.

And this may sound almost cliché to us because we have heard it so often, but everything turns on the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

We do not live and work in order to become immortal.

We live out of resurrection.

That is the platform from which Christians live.

We have hope in Christ because of his resurrection.

We cannot make ourselves unforgettable.

And here is something I think many of us need to hear:

It is okay to stop trying so hard to make yourself significant.

Despite what the big preachers may tell you—

Live your dream.

Build your legacy.

Plant that seed and God will give you a hundredfold return.

A lot of that is crap, crap, crap.

There is nothing wrong with simply being insignificant in the eyes of the world.

Because your labor is not in vain when it is in the Lord.

And this is where we plead with the Mikes in our world to repent and turn to Christ.

Here is the bottom line:

Jesus does not offer Mike—or any of us—a better legacy.

That is not his goal.

He is not trying to make your life in this world perfect.

That is not why he died.

He did not die to make you richer.

He did not die to make you healthier.

He did not die so you could have a bigger house than the next guy.

By God’s design, he gives some ten talents, some five, and some one.

But whatever talent we have been given, we are to be faithful with it.

We pray:

God, establish the work of my hands with what you have given me.

Because at the end of the day, what Christ offers is not a better legacy.

Christ offers resurrection.

Ecclesiastes, if read by itself, can be terribly disappointing.

But Ecclesiastes is not where the story ends.

The story continues through the Gospels.

Through the cross.

Through the empty tomb.

Through resurrection.

So tomorrow, when we run into the Mikes of our lives—people doing the grind, waking up, working, paying bills, looking for the next thing—we need to be prepared to speak to them about the goodness of God.

We need to be able to explain how resurrection changes everything.

And we need to live like we believe it ourselves.

Let us live from resurrection.

Let resurrection be the line by which we guide our lives.

Because in Christ, our labor is not in vain.

We work. We save. We insure. We plan. We build accounts, careers, homes, routines, and backup plans. None of those things are necessarily wrong. In fact, most of them are wise. But somewhere along the way, wisdom can quietly become something else. Planning can become control. Responsibility can become fear. And before we realize it, we are asking our possessions, our jobs, our health, or our retirement accounts to give us something they were never designed to provide: security.

That is where Jesus meets us in Luke 12.

Last week, we looked at the rich fool—the man who believed bigger barns would make his future secure. His answer to uncertainty was, “I need more.” Today, Jesus turns to His disciples and addresses the other side of that same problem. The anxious disciple does not say, “I need more because I want more.” He says, “I need more because I am afraid what I have will not be enough.”

Greed says, “If I can get enough, I will be secure.”

Anxiety says, “What if I never have enough to be secure?”

Jesus confronts both with the same truth: your life was never meant to be secured by what you can accumulate or control.

That makes this passage an important bridge as we move toward Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes is going to remind us that life is a vapor—here for a moment and then gone. Luke 12 prepares us for that truth by asking a more immediate question:

If life is this uncertain, where are you going to place your security?

The Problem of Anxiety

Anxiety is a big deal. It is real. It is legitimate. We all experience it in some form or fashion, even if only a little.

Roughly one out of five American adults experiences some type of anxiety disorder. Some of us are simply more anxious by natural temperament. Some of us can become consumed by fear.

Scripture repeatedly tells us not to fear, which tells me something rather obvious: all men fear. All women fear. We all fear something at some point.

For those of us in this stage of life, a lot of our anxieties tend to come from finances.

Inflation is a major topic in our culture. We worry about bills. We worry about paying off debt that we have accumulated over our lifetimes. Housing costs go up. Taxes go up. We wonder whether we will have enough for retirement.

We worry about our health.

Every day there seems to be a new pain, and you have to figure out, “Lord, what is that? Where did that come from? Do I need another pill?”

Every couple of years, it seems like we have another doctor to add to the list.

And it is not only our own health. Many of us begin worrying about the health of our parents.

We worry about work and job security. We watch younger people come into the workplace. We keep reading about how artificial intelligence is going to take over the world. I say, let it.

Our careers have pressures. Have we gotten to the level we thought we would reach at this stage of life? Will we have enough to provide for our families, our children, and our grandchildren?

Teachers know this feeling. When we talk about retirement, everybody asks, “What is your number? How many years do you have?”

So we think about the future, and we worry about it.

The stability of our money. The stability of banks. Political conditions. The economy. What the next four years may bring.

We all have some weight of uncertainty about what comes next.

Why?

Because we are fallen.

Because of our fallen nature, we seek security in what we can possess, what we can control, and what we can provide.

We are always trying to accumulate the right things. We want enough to protect ourselves and enough to pass on to others if necessary.

But, beloved, as believers, we are called to something different.

We are called to trust our heavenly Father.

We are called to seek His kingdom.

Greed says:

“If I can get enough, I will be secure.”

Anxiety says:

“What if I do not have enough to be secure?”

What if that account, that house, that car, that job, or that retirement plan is not enough for tomorrow?

At the end of the day, our security should not be in what we can provide.

Our security is in God.

“Do Not Be Anxious”

Jesus turns to His disciples in verse 22 and gives them a simple command:

“Do not be anxious for your life, as to what you will eat; nor for your body, as to what you will put on.”

Then He gives the reason in verse 23:

“For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.”

We certainly live in a society where some people do not have enough food or clothing. As teachers, one of the things constantly impressed upon us is that we do not always know what a child is coming from.

Some students may not have eaten breakfast. Some may not have a good meal waiting when they get home. Some go home to dark houses with nobody waiting for them.

Those needs are real.

Yet Christ tells His disciples not to be anxious about these things.

Why?

Because life is more than those things.

Then Jesus begins pointing to creation.

He says, “Consider the ravens.”

They neither sow nor reap. They have no storeroom or barn, and yet God feeds them.

I understand that because God gives me the privilege of feeding birds at my house. I have bird feeders all over my yard. I keep those birds pretty fat and happy.

They are pigs, let me tell you.

But Jesus says, look at the birds. Their needs are met.

Then He asks:

“How much more valuable you are than the birds!”

That matters.

We are more valuable than birds.

Then Jesus asks in verse 25:

“And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life’s span?”

Nobody can do that.

None of us can add an hour. None of us can add a minute.

We wish we could sometimes. We have all said, “I just need more time.”

Then verse 26 says:

“If then you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about other matters?”

That fascinates me.

Jesus refers to time—something we can never seem to get enough of—as a little thing.

In our minds, time is enormous.

We are always jamming and cramming. There is always something else that needs to get done.

As teachers, we spend weeks preparing our classrooms, and then the students arrive and immediately we think, “I probably needed one more day.”

But Christ says, in effect, you cannot even control this little thing called time.

That puts things in perspective.

Then Jesus says:

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.”

I love that truth.

God created the beauty of creation.

We see a little flower. We see some small creature scampering across the road. We see the trees, plants, and fields.

That is God’s handiwork.

These things do not labor the way we do. They simply grow where God has planted them.

And Jesus says that if God clothes the grass, which is alive today and gone tomorrow, how much more will He clothe you?

Then comes the rebuke:

“You of little faith!”

He is talking to His disciples.

And He is talking to us.

We are so prone to have little faith.

Your Father Knows

Jesus repeats the command in verses 29 and 30:

“And do not seek what you will eat and what you will drink, and do not keep worrying. For all these things the nations of the world eagerly seek; but your Father knows that you need these things.”

I love that.

You ought to underline that in your Bible:

“Your Father knows that you need these things.”

He knows you need food.

He knows you need clothing.

He knows you need time.

He understands.

This is our King.

This is our Father.

This is our God who takes care of us.

Then Jesus gives us the alternative:

“But seek His kingdom, and these things will be added to you.”

That is the answer.

It is not simply, “Stop worrying.”

We need to be careful about casually telling somebody, “You just need to quit worrying.”

You can tell me that all day long, and I may not listen to you.

Tell me not to worry and I may say, “Too bad. I already did.”

Jesus gives us something to replace worry.

Seek God’s kingdom.

Seek Him.

Seek His priorities.

Seek what He desires.

The world says, “Secure yourself. Secure your life. Secure your bank accounts. Secure your future.”

Jesus says:

Seek the kingdom and trust your Father.

That does not always sound easy either.

So what does that look like?

One way is through prayer and praise.

James told us a few weeks ago: when things are difficult, pray. When things are good, praise.

That is seeking the kingdom.

If you are having a bad day, pray.

If you are having a great day, praise God.

Even in the model prayer, Jesus teaches us to say:

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

That is God giving us permission to bring Him the simple, everyday things.

He knows we need food, but He still tells us to ask.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

That which we need every day.

Even the ordinary things:

“Lord, give me a good drive into work.”

“Lord, let this conversation be rich.”

“Lord, help me through this day.”

We are to ask the Father and trust the Father to provide.

Today is what we have.

We are not guaranteed tomorrow.

So consider today what you need to do, and trust God with it.

Paul picks up this same truth in Philippians 4:6–7:

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

That is good.

Paul is picking up what Jesus is throwing down.

Do not be anxious.

Instead, pray.

Ask.

And do it with thanksgiving.

“Lord, I cannot believe my car broke down today. Not today! But, Lord, I thank You because You are still in charge. You are the one directing this day. You are in the midst of this.”

Then Paul says:

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

We have had those moments.

The peace of God comes over you, and you cannot really explain it.

That is one of the reasons the world does not always understand us.

Something deep inside the soul, where the Holy Spirit resides, gives peace that surpasses comprehension.

When our first inclination is to go to the Father, to pray, to seek Him, and to make our requests known, He guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Beloved, our first inclination should be to seek His kingdom.

It is not enough merely to stop worrying.

We must seek Him and trust Him.

Treasure That Does Not Fail

Then Jesus gives us practical application in verse 33:

“Sell your possessions and give to the needy; make yourselves money belts that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near nor moth destroys.”

I remember reading that as a kid and thinking, “Does He want us to have some kind of special money bag that does not wear out?”

No.

The money bag that does not grow old is the treasure stored in heaven.

Our treasure in God’s kingdom will not fail.

No thief can approach it.

No moth can destroy it.

No man can take away the wealth we possess in God’s kingdom.

No part of creation can destroy what God is keeping.

That truth has to get rooted deeply inside us.

Imagine tomorrow you lose your job.

Imagine the most important person in your life is suddenly gone.

Imagine somehow your bank account is emptied and everything you have depended upon disappears.

Now you are jobless, alone, homeless, and poor.

Where is your wealth?

Where is your treasure?

If all of that disappeared tomorrow, where would your heart be?

Verse 34 gives the answer:

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

If you have a panic attack because you have lost these things that shows us exactly where your heart is.

What the World Says—and What Jesus Says

The world says:

You are responsible for securing your own future.

Jesus says:

Your Father knows what you need.

The world says:

More possessions will make you feel safer.

Jesus says:

Life is more than those things.

The world says:

Worry keeps you prepared.

There is some truth in preparation. We should prepare responsibly.

I want to go to Yellowstone badly. It is on my bucket list. I especially want to go in winter when everything is covered in snow.

I also know there are bears and bison there.

Now, concern about a bear might make me prepare wisely. If I go to Yellowstone, I am not going hiking alone carrying food and walking around with an open wound.

That would be foolish.

Fear can sometimes alert us to danger and help us prepare.

But if I live under that fear, I will never leave the house.

Jesus asks:

“Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his life?”

We cannot.

The world says:

Control as much as you possibly can.

We love control.

I see it in teachers sometimes. We want to control every second of class, every student, every action.

Control, control, control.

But there are some things we cannot control.

We cannot even add an hour to our lives.

So we must trust Him.

The world says:

Your needs come first.

Jesus says:

Seek His kingdom.

Matthew’s account makes it even more explicit:

“Seek first His kingdom.”

The world says:

Hold tightly to what you have because you may need it tomorrow.

Jesus says:

“Sell your possessions and give to the needy.”

Beloved, we need to hold what we possess loosely.

For us today, that may not mean selling something every time we see a need. Many of us have enough surplus income to help somebody without selling property first.

But the point remains:

We must be willing to meet needs.

Give to those who have less.

Hold your possessions loosely.

The world says:

If you build enough security, eventually you will never have to be afraid again.

But even the wealthiest people in the world still worry.

Money does not eliminate fear.

Jesus says something beautiful:

“Do not be afraid, little flock, because your Father has chosen to give you the kingdom.”

I used to read “little flock” and think it almost sounded condescending.

But that is the wrong way to hear it.

This is Jesus—our Shepherd, our King, our Friend, our Master, our Savior.

He is saying:

Do not fear, My flock. My people. My kingdom people. It is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Lose your job tomorrow.

Lose your bank account.

Lose everything this world can take from you.

If you belong to Christ, you still have the kingdom.

God has given us Himself through Jesus Christ.

He has sealed us with His Holy Spirit.

Our names are written in heaven.

Our place is being prepared.

I have told people before that if I never make it to Yellowstone or Yosemite, I am really okay with that.

I want to go badly. I want to experience it. I want to take my own pictures and stand there myself.

But if I never make it, I am okay.

Because there is a kingdom waiting that is going to blow this one away.

As amazing as this world is, God’s kingdom will be so much more.

I joked with someone recently that I hope my mansion in heaven is Yellowstone.

“Lord, just putting that thought out there. Yellowstone would be great. You can even put bears there—just no teeth.”

We may not have the health we want.

We may not have the wealth we want.

We may not get to do everything we hope to do.

But there is a kingdom coming, and those who belong to Christ will be part of it forever.

What are you afraid God will fail to provide?

What are we afraid He will not provide?

Money?

A job?

A career?

Retirement?

Health?

And if our heart immediately says, “Yes, that is what I am afraid of,” then perhaps that anxiety is revealing where our treasure is.

Jesus says:

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

When we talk to people about Christ, when we give a defense for the hope we have, when we simply hand somebody a card and invite them to church, part of what we are telling them is this:

There is a greater kingdom.

Jesus says that it is the Father’s good pleasure to give the kingdom.

So we can plead with the unbeliever: Jesus offers something this world cannot provide.

But we must recognize that our hearts are sinful and opposed to Him. We must submit ourselves to Christ. We must turn from sin and trust Him.

People need to be reconciled to God.

And believers need to remember what we have already received.

As we continue toward Ecclesiastes, I hope this truth becomes deeply rooted in us:

His kingdom—not our kingdom—is where we must lean.

The rich fool tried to build security through possessions.

The anxious disciple tries to build security through control and worry.

Jesus calls both away from that illusion.

There is a security we cannot build.

It can only be received from the Father.

David gets mad. He is basically like, “That’s it. Come on.” He tells a large portion of his men, “Saddle up. Bring your weapons. We’re going to go deal with this man.”

Nabal, apparently unconcerned, decides to throw a party instead. But his wife Abigail hears about his attitude and what he said to David’s men. She prepares what is basically a peace offering and goes out to find David in the wilderness before he can reach them.

She presents her case: “My lord, I know you are the next king. I know you are the anointed of God. I know that you are the son of Jesse. I know who you are, and I am pleading with you not to do what you are about to do.”

David, being a wise man at that moment, agrees. He receives the supplies Abigail brought and turns away from his plan.

When Abigail gets home, she finds that her husband has thrown a great feast for himself. The next morning, when she tells him what happened, Scripture says that his heart died within him and became like stone. About ten days later, the Lord struck Nabal, and he died.

God accomplished what David had wanted to do—but in God’s time and by God’s hand.

I bring that up because none of us knows the day of our death. We do not know what is going to happen. God could require our souls tonight, and do any of us have enough in the barns to really matter at that point?

Nabal thought he had enough. The rich man in Jesus’ story thought he had enough. He thought that was all he needed, and so he rested on his laurels. He said to his soul, “Take your ease; eat, drink, and be merry.”

What is interesting is that, when we get into Ecclesiastes, we are going to see that same language. The Preacher realizes there is nothing better in life than for a man to eat, drink, and enjoy his labor—but in Ecclesiastes, those simple gifts are to be received from the hand of God. The rich fool wanted God’s gifts without God.

If our fallen hearts continue to seek from our possessions and our wealth the security and satisfaction that only God can bring, we are going to be in a sore position when God does show up.

We as believers in Christ need to reject the false security of earthly wealth. Do you hear me? We need to reject any security we have placed in wealth, in our goods, in pursuing goods, or in being rich. When we die, death will expose the wealth or the poverty of our souls. At death, all earthly distinctions are leveled, and in that moment it will become clear what our souls were really rich in.

My students at school will say, “I want to make money. I want to make fat stacks of cash. I want to be rich.” They want to drive the best cars and have all the women. That is the nature of humanity. That is what you and I come up against every day: a world that says more wealth brings more happiness.

And Scripture says, “No. Not today.”

An Interruption About an Inheritance

Let’s look at this parable. It is not too difficult to understand.

In Luke 12, Jesus has a huge crowd beginning to press in around Him. He is on His way to Jerusalem, nearing the end of His earthly ministry, and He has a large following. Luke writes that so many thousands had gathered that they were stepping on one another. Jesus began speaking first to His disciples.

He teaches them not to fear those who can kill the body, to confess Him before men, and to trust the Holy Spirit. Then, all of a sudden, a man interrupts Jesus in the middle of His teaching with a request that is completely off topic:

“Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”

Talk about off topic. I am telling you, all of us grow up to be adult eighth graders. That is exactly what kids do at school. I can be teaching on one topic, and all of a sudden some kid asks, “Can I go to the bathroom?”

You want to say, “Dude, stop. You are not even with us.”

That is what this man does. Jesus is teaching about eternal matters, and this fellow is thinking about his share of the money.

As the chapter continues, Jesus draws a line in the sand. In verse 49 He says, “I have come to cast fire upon the earth; and how I wish it were already kindled!” In verse 54 He turns to the crowd and rebukes them because they can read the weather but cannot recognize the spiritual importance of the present time.

The crowd is there. They are listening, but they are not getting the big picture. This man’s interruption proves it.

He wants Jesus to become the civil judge or arbiter in a family dispute. Jesus answers, “Man, who appointed Me a judge or arbitrator over you?” Scripture teaches that Jesus is the appointed Judge of the living and the dead, but settling this man’s inheritance dispute was not the purpose of His earthly mission. Jesus had not come to be recruited into a family quarrel over property.

Yet He does not miss the opportunity. In verse 15 He says:

> “Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions.”

That is the warning: watch out for greed. The man wants his portion of the family inheritance, but Jesus sees what is driving his heart.

Bigger Barns and a Poor Soul

Jesus then tells the parable. A rich man’s land is very productive. What is his problem? He has too much produce and nowhere to put it all.

That is quite a problem to have, isn’t it?

His solution is to tear down his barns and build larger ones. You have to expand. You have to move with the times. That is what he does: bigger barns.

Then in verse 19 we see the man’s satisfaction. He says to himself, “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry.”

This is the state of mankind today, isn’t it? Think of the people you work with every day. They want wealth, more stuff, and health. They are chasing the carrot. They are chasing the next thing. It does not matter what year, decade, or century it is; that has not changed in us.

We think it is all about bigger barns and that bigger barns will bring satisfaction.

Then comes verse 20. I do not know what your Bible says, but mine begins with the word “but.” That is always a sign that you need to pay attention because something opposite is about to happen:

> “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?’”

God calls the man a fool. His soul is required that very night, and now who is going to get all of that produce?

Verse 21 is the capstone. This is where Jesus captures the man’s heart and intentions:

> “So is the man who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.”

If you are not rich toward God, you are a fool. That word is constant throughout Scripture. The book of Proverbs repeatedly places two kinds of people before us: the wise and the fool.

But what do we actually know about this farmer? We do not know much except that he is wealthy. Is he necessarily wicked in the ordinary sense? He is not accused of theft, fraud, or laziness. Apparently he is hardworking. Apparently he is prudent in his business. He pays attention and responds appropriately to the things that produce success.

But God calls him a fool.

That challenges several assumptions we make.

Assumption One: Financial Success Equals God’s Approval

The first assumption is that wealth equals God’s blessing—or at least His approval.

Hopefully we as Christians know better, but there is a tendency in our world to believe that if you are rich and doing well, then you must be blessed by God. That is the heart of the prosperity gospel in many church circles: name it and claim it; health and wealth; sow a seed and receive a harvest.

That language is so damaging because it baptizes the assumption of the world. It suggests that God exists to make us comfortable and materially successful.

No, He does not.

In Psalm 73, Asaph admits that he nearly lost his footing because he saw how the wicked prospered. Then he entered the sanctuary of God and understood their end. He realized, “Surely You set them in slippery places; You cast them down to destruction.”

Prosperity is temporary. Blessings can come, and they can go very quickly. Financial success does not equal God’s approval.

Think about the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16. The rich man has comfort and abundance, while Lazarus has nothing. He is destitute, sick, and lying at the rich man’s gate. Yet when both men die, the rich man is in torment and Lazarus is comforted.

Think about the church at Laodicea in Revelation 3. They said, “We are rich. Look at all the wealth we have.” But Christ called them spiritually wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.

Deuteronomy 8 warns that prosperity can cause us to forget God. Wealth may be a gift, but it is never a dependable measure of a person’s standing before Him.

If God makes us successful or gives us wealth and health, what is the takeaway? We should certainly be grateful. But how many of us have wrestled with the desire for wealth, health, success, or a title? If we are honest, all of us have.

Assumption Two: Keeping Everything Is Wise Stewardship

A second assumption is that maintaining our investments and keeping what we have for ourselves is always wise financial stewardship.

There is some truth in that. We should use what God has blessed us with properly. We should plan, save, and take care of our responsibilities.

But remember this: the farmer’s abundance created a stewardship opportunity. All he saw was a storage problem.

That is what we need to notice. If we keep everything for ourselves, we place ourselves in spiritual danger. In James 5, the wealthy are told to weep and howl for the miseries coming upon them. Their riches had rotted, and their hoarded wealth stood as evidence against them.

Proverbs 11 tells us that one gives freely and grows richer, while another withholds what he should give and suffers want. Isaiah 58 teaches that true devotion includes sharing our bread with the hungry. First John 3:17 tells us that when we close our hearts to brothers and sisters in need, it calls into question whether the love of God abides in us.

If God has blessed us with investments, income, or possessions, then there is a stewardship being called into service. Sometimes God gives us these things so that we can help another person.

Think about all that you have in excess. Are you simply hoarding it for yourself, or do you see it as a way to help somebody else?

Assumption Three: I Will Make It to Retirement

A third assumption many people make is simple: “I will make it to retirement.”

We plan for retirement. We put money away. I do. I have ways to put back part of my income, and hopefully you do too. There is nothing wrong with preparing for the future.

But there is a difference between preparing for the future and presuming upon it.

Have we truly considered that our lives are temporary? We still plan. There is nothing wrong with that. If we make no plans, we may live to one hundred. If we make excellent plans, God may call us home tonight. We simply do not know.

It can be terrifying to think about people passing out of this life, sometimes suddenly and without warning. How do we wrestle with that? There has to be a balance. We should not spend everything we have, but neither should we put away every single thing because we are afraid of what is coming. We plan responsibly, and we trust God to provide.

The point I want us to nail down is that God has the absolute right to demand our souls at any moment.

Deuteronomy 32 records God saying, “I kill and I make alive.” Job 1:21 says, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.” Job also recognizes that a person’s days and limits are determined by God.

In Acts 17, Paul tells the Athenians that God gives life and breath to all people and determines their appointed times and boundaries. “In Him we live and move and exist.” Hebrews 9:27 says that it is appointed for man to die once and after this comes judgment.

I know that can sound negative or depressing, but we need to pay attention to it. We do not know when God is going to come calling.

Assumption Four: Generosity Is Valuable When People See It

The final assumption concerns generosity. Being generous and helping others is noble, but our world often wants generosity to be noticed.

Jesus warns in Matthew 6 not to let the left hand know what the right hand is doing. Yet there is a tendency in us to say, “Did you notice? Did you see what I did?”

One of the things I do in my classroom is use a merit system. Students earn points for little things, and it is kind of fun. One merit is for helping another student. But I tell the kids up front, “If you have to announce that you did something good, it does not count. I have to see it and note it.”

At the beginning of one year, I had a freshman who was all about this. Every day it was, “Mr. Simpson, look! I’m giving him paper because he needs some.”

I would say, “It does not count, dude. You are not getting points for that.”

“But I’m being helpful!”

“I know, but I told you it does not count if you have to promote it.”

He finally calmed down, and he was still very helpful to other students. I paid attention. If I saw a student explaining the work to another student, I would say, “Great job explaining that to her. I heard what you said, and that is right on.”

We like being recognized. Generosity is good and noble, but not when our real purpose is to be seen by everybody.

Later in Luke 12, Jesus begins to unpack what it means to be rich toward God. He says, “Sell your possessions and give to charity; make yourselves money belts which do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven.” Then He says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

That is why I said at the beginning that death exposes where our hearts are. Death exposes whether we are rich toward God or living in poverty toward Him.

Scripture speaks about this often. First Timothy 6 tells the wealthy to be generous, rich in good works, and ready to share. First John 3 teaches that Christlike love expresses itself by meeting real needs. James 2 says that words without help are dead: if we merely tell a needy brother or sister, “Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” but do not supply what is necessary, what use is that? Faith without works is dead.

Second Corinthians 8 teaches that generosity grows out of God’s grace. When we realize what God has given us in His grace and mercy, generosity begins to grow from that grace. Second Corinthians 9 tells us that God provides for us so that we can abound in every good work and be generous toward others.

Ephesians 4:28 says that the Christian works, doing honest labor with his own hands, so that he will have something to share with one who has need.

We work to provide for ourselves—and so that we can have something to share. That is biblical stewardship.

Although the parable does not directly command generosity, generosity is the opposite of the greed Jesus condemns. It is one important sign of a heart becoming rich toward God.

Preparing Without Presuming

We need to repent of presuming upon tomorrow. If you are confident that tomorrow belongs to you, then you are like the people in James 4 who say, “Tomorrow we are going to go here, do this, and make a profit.”

No, you do not know that.

Our mindset must be, “If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.” We must incorporate the reality of God into every decision we make:

● What does God think?

● What does God say about this?

● Have I taken this to God?

● Have I asked God for wisdom?

● Have I talked to the Lord about this situation?

The farmer planned, but he did not consider the number of his days. If God blesses us with wealth, health, and opportunity, then instead of immediately asking how we can build larger barns, perhaps we should ask, “Whom can I help with this?”

Let me ask you one final question: If what you possess were suddenly taken from you, would you still believe you have a meaningful life because of Christ?

We should.

If God takes everything away tomorrow, are we going to stand up and curse Him? Or will we acknowledge that He is the One who gives and takes away?

As we eventually move into Ecclesiastes, remember that the book can sound depressing. The Preacher looks at the world and says, “It is all vanity.” And it is. It is all a breath—here for a moment and then gone.

But our hope is not in the breath. Our hope is in Christ and what He has done for us.

The rich fool received everything from God, trusted everything except God, shared nothing with others, and prepared for everything except meeting God.

We must reject the false security of earthly wealth and pursue the riches of God’s kingdom, because whatever we treasure will ultimately rule our hearts.

Closing Prayer

Father, thank You for this moment and for this lesson. Thank You for this time of worship and fellowship with our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Help us remember that all we have comes from Your hand. Help us run from greed and covetousness. Help us to be generous toward those who are in need. Use the truth of Your Word to reveal what needs to change in each one of us, and give us grace to obey You.

Thank You for Your provision. You, O God, are enough. You have been so generous to give us life and health. Even in our hardships, even in our struggles, and even when our bank accounts do not reflect abundance, You are still God. You have shown Yourself to be a good, good Father.

Thank You, Lord. In Jesus’ name, amen.

How do we live our daily lives when we wish God would speak more clearly, guide us more directly, or move more quickly?

Consider William Carey. He was one of the fathers of the modern missionary movement. In 1793, he went to India with his family. Once he arrived, his five-year-old son died, and his wife—understandably—began to lose her mind. Can you imagine being completely uprooted from your life and placed in a country like India at that time?

Yet Carey continued the work. He preached. He prayed. He translated the Scriptures.

For seven years, there were zero salvations.

No church. No converts. No visible fruit.

When someone asked how he kept going, Carey said:

“I can plod. I can persevere in any definite pursuit. To this I owe everything.”

He was a plodder. He simply kept going—day by day, moment by moment—living and doing his work.

After seven years, Carey finally baptized his first convert. Then, as we know from history, he became one of the most influential missionaries of the modern era. People still reference him. We still use him in sermons.

This, I think, is what James is trying to get across to us. It is why I titled this sermon “Holy Plodding, Holy Pursuit.”

Every day can feel like a grind. You get up. You go to work. You come home. You go to bed.

Repeat.

Some days, you do not notice God. Some days, you barely notice God. So what does faithful Christianity look like on those ordinary days?

James tells us:

• Be patient.

• Strengthen your heart.

• Do not complain about one another.

• Pray.

• Praise.

• Confess your sins.

• Pray for one another.

• Turn wandering sinners back to Christ.

These are the last things James says to us. In some ways, that makes them some of the most important things he wants us to remember.

James is telling us to become plodders. We keep doing the work. We remain about our Father’s business every day, no matter where we find ourselves.

I have always said Christianity is not a sprint; it is a marathon. Every day, little by little, mile by mile, we faithfully plod along until Christ returns.

Observe the Verbs

The first step in studying the Bible is observation. We have to pay attention to what is happening in the passage.

One of the best things we can do—especially if we are going to teach the Bible—is find the structure. Find the paragraph. Find the beginning and the end. Then ask, “What is the emphasis? What is the author nailing down?”

That is where I begin my sermon preparation. I know the verses I will preach, but first I look at the structure and search for the emphasis. Sometimes the emphasis is difficult to find. Other times, it is sitting right in front of us.

When we look carefully at James 5:7–20, something stands out: there are a whole lot of commands.

The Greek verb form is called an imperative. We know what that word means. An imperative is a command or mandate: Do this.

Now, we must be careful, because this is where James has been misunderstood. Some people have thought James was preaching a works-based salvation. He is not. James is speaking to believers. He is saying, “You are a believer? Good. This is how you live now.”

The passage gives us these commands:

• Verse 7: Be patient.

• Verse 8: Be patient and strengthen your hearts.

• Verse 9: Do not complain against one another.

• Verse 10: Take the prophets as your example.

• Verse 12: Do not swear; let your yes be yes and your no be no.

• Verse 13: Pray when you suffer and sing praises when you are cheerful.

• Verse 14: Call the elders, and let the elders pray.

• Verse 16: Confess your sins and pray for one another.

• Verse 20: Let the restorer know the eternal importance of turning a sinner back.

That is a lot of instruction.

Anybody can perform some of these actions. Even an unbeliever can do certain outward things on this list. So be careful about thinking, “If I do these things, I must be a Christian.”

No.

These works do not make us Christians. Christians, however, should naturally desire to live this way because Christ has saved us.

Interpret the Verbs

Once we have observed the Scriptures, we can begin interpreting them. The three Cs of interpretation are context, context, context.

Look at the beginning of James 5. James speaks to rich people who trust in their wealth. He tells them their riches have rotted, their garments have become moth-eaten, and their gold and silver have rusted. They have cheated, lied, and lived in luxury while withholding wages from laborers.

Then James turns to the believers and says, “Therefore be patient, brethren.”

At the other end of the chapter, in verses 19–20, James speaks about bringing back a sinner who has wandered from the truth. Those are the bookends. The chapter begins with people who believe wealth will save them, and it ends with a sinner being turned from the error of his way and rescued from death.

Between those bookends, James tells believers how to live.

We are to plod along, seeking God’s righteousness. We pursue God, and we pursue wandering people with the hope of pointing them home to Christ.

This is the upside-down kingdom. We live in the same world as everyone else, but our perspective is completely different. The world says, “Get rich. Be happy. Stay healthy. Make life comfortable.”

James says:

• Wait patiently.

• Strengthen your heart.

• Stop complaining.

• Keep your word.

• Pray through suffering.

• Confess your sins.

• Go after those who wander.

Satan’s famous words to Adam and Eve were, “Did God really say?” I think he still does the same thing today. He whispers in our ears:

Doesn’t God want you happy?

Doesn’t God want you healthy?

Doesn’t God want you wealthy?

Too often, we listen to that little voice. But it is the enemy lying to us and stealing from us, making us believe God’s highest purpose is our comfort.

That promise is nowhere in the Scriptures. It is certainly nowhere in this passage.

Beloved, while we live our lives on this earth, we are called to faithfully plod along until Christ arrives.

Be Patient and Strengthen Your Heart

James begins in verse 7: “Be patient.”

Then he gives us the example of a farmer waiting for the precious produce of the soil. The farmer plows, plants, weeds, and waits. He cannot make the rain fall. He cannot force the plant to grow. He can only do the work entrusted to him and wait patiently for God to give the increase.

I have been dabbling with plants, flowers, and trees lately. I have discovered that I am pretty good at not killing cactus.

Or rocks.

My wonderful wife keeps wanting to buy pretty flowers, and we keep killing them. We are doing better, though. We are learning.

I really wanted a magnolia tree, so I bought one and planted it. Oh, my Lord, it looks about dead. I am doing everything I can. I am taking pictures and asking ChatGPT, “What is wrong with my tree?” I talked to a nursery worker, and she gave me some good advice:

• Water.

• Water.

• Water.

• Mulch.

• Mulch.

• Mulch.

Every morning, I walk outside expecting that tree to say, “Hey, I’m alive!”

Instead, it looks at me like, “Dude, just cut me down now.”

It is one hundred degrees outside. Things struggle. Growth takes time.

That is the farmer’s patience, and that is Christianity. We pray, “God, I need You to do this right now. God, I need this. You should do this.”

The first thing James tells us is simple:

Be patient.

Then he repeats it in verse 8 and adds, “Strengthen your hearts.”

I love that. Strengthen your heart.

If we are not spending time with the Lord every day—thinking, praying, meditating, reading, listening to Christian music, sermons, or podcasts—then we will feed our souls the rest of the trash that is out there. Our hearts will become corrupted by whatever we continually pour into them.

We must strengthen our hearts.

I do not know what that will require for you. You have to discover what helps you pursue God. For me, it is reading. It is writing and journaling my prayers. It is listening to Christian music.

The other day, someone was driving painfully slow in traffic, and it wore me out. I pulled a sinful-man maneuver: I got in the right lane, went around her, and glared. She was on her phone.

“Get off your phone!”

Then I stomped on it and drove around her. I told my dear friend David afterward, “I know. I failed.”

The next day, I was driving in a seventy-mile-per-hour zone on a two-lane road where I could not pass. The fellow in front of me was going fifty-four. I thought, “All right. All right.”

So I cranked up my Christian music, sang, and praised the Lord. I only had two miles before my turn.

I could make it.

We have to find the daily practices that strengthen our hearts toward God because the daily grind will test what is inside us.

Do Not Complain

The next command is difficult because we are good at breaking it.

“Do not complain, brethren, against one another.”

Complaining comes easily. Sometimes it is even fun. It makes us feel better for a moment. James, however, reminds us why we must stop: “so that you yourselves may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing right at the door.”

I do not know exactly what that picture looked like in James’s mind, but I picture the Judge standing just outside, listening. He hears the grumbling. He hears the resentment. He hears how we talk about one another.

James reminds us: God is the Judge, and He is right at the door.

Follow Faithful Examples

In verses 10–11, James tells us to take the prophets as examples of suffering and patience. Then he points us to Job:

“You have heard of the endurance of Job and have seen the outcome of the Lord’s dealings, that the Lord is full of compassion and is merciful.”

At the beginning of this book, James said, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials.”

God does not promise you a happy life.

If you think you deserve constant happiness, you have bought into the enemy’s lies. That does not mean we must walk around miserable. Paul and Silas were locked in prison, yet they sang praises to God. God opened the prison doors and freed them from their chains.

That result is not a guarantee for us, but their perspective is an example for us. In suffering, they turned toward God.

Let Your Word Be Your Bond

Verse 12 almost feels like an interruption:

“But above all, my brethren, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath; but your yes is to be yes, and your no, no.”

Simply put, your word should be your bond.

Let your yes be yes and your no be no. Do not make false promises. Do not promise what you have no intention of doing.

We are good at saying, “I promise I’ll get it done.”

And then we do not.

A believer’s ordinary word ought to be trustworthy.

Pray or Praise

Verse 13 gives us two basic ways to respond to life:

“Is anyone among you suffering? Then he must pray. Is anyone cheerful? He is to sing praises.”

I love that.

You pray, or you praise.

Is life hard right now? Pray.

Are you suffering or panicking? Pray.

Are things good? Praise God.

It is so simple, yet so freeing. Whether life is painful or pleasant, James turns our attention toward God.

That is how we plod along every day:

Pray or praise.

Call the Elders and Pray for One Another

In verses 14–15, James digs more deeply into prayer:

“Is anyone among you sick? Then he must call for the elders of the church and they are to pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.”

Call the elders. Ask them to pray.

Proverbs 15:29 says:

“The LORD is far from the wicked, but He hears the prayer of the righteous.”

God hears the prayers of His people. If you are suffering or struggling, pray and ask the church to pray for you.

That is one reason we take time at the beginning of our service to share what is happening in our lives. I want to know what is going on with you, and you need to know what is going on with me. We need to know how to pray for one another.

If someone is seriously sick, call the elders and ask them to come pray and anoint that person with oil in the name of the Lord.

Understand this: it is the Lord who heals, not the oil.

The language in verse 15 can refer to physical healing, but it can also carry the idea of spiritual salvation or restoration. Scripture uses this word in both ways.

Think about the paralytic whose friends lowered him through the roof. Jesus first told the man, “Your sins are forgiven.” The Pharisees objected. Jesus answered, in effect, “Which is easier to say: ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or ‘Get up and walk’?”

Then, so they would know that the Son of Man had authority to forgive sins, Jesus told him, “Get up, take your mat, and go home.”

Two things happened to that man. He was healed physically, and his sins were forgiven.

The point is this: if we are suffering, there is nothing wrong with asking for prayer. There is nothing wrong with asking for help. Go to the doctor. Put a Band-Aid on the boo-boo. But also ask the church to pray.

James says the Lord will raise the sick person up, and if he has committed sins, they will be forgiven. Not all sickness is caused by a person’s sin.

Sometimes you just have the sniffles.

But sickness can sometimes be connected to sin, and God can use physical weakness to confront us and slow us down. First Corinthians 11:30 gives us a serious example of that. We should not assume every sickness is punishment, but neither should we pretend our spiritual and physical lives have nothing to do with one another.

Confess Your Sins

That leads directly into verse 16:

“Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed.”

Brothers and sisters, there is nothing wrong with confessing our sins to one another—not so we can judge one another, but so we can love, pray for, and help one another.

In doing so, God brings restoration. God brings healing. Sometimes that restoration is physical. Sometimes it is spiritual.

Jesus told the parable of the persistent widow in Luke 18 so that His disciples would always pray and not lose heart. She kept coming. She kept asking. She refused to quit.

Like a boxer who keeps throwing punches, we keep praying.

We pray. We pray. We pray. We pray.

James says:

“The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much.”

Amen. Hallelujah. Yes, Lord, do it.

Pray.

Remember Elijah

Then James gives us the example of Elijah from 1 Kings 17–18.

Elijah lived during the reign of Ahab and Jezebel. Ahab was a wicked king who led God’s people away from the Lord. To get Ahab’s attention, God used Elijah’s prayer: the rain stopped.

For three and a half years, it did not rain.

What happens when rain stops for that long? Drought. Famine. Suffering.

God was getting Ahab’s attention and giving him an opportunity to repent. During much of that time, Elijah himself was in hiding. Then God told him to reveal himself to Ahab and pray for rain.

Elijah did, and the rain came.

This leads into the incredible confrontation with the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. They cried, danced, and cut themselves. Elijah mocked them: “Maybe you need to cry louder. Maybe your god is asleep. Maybe he is indisposed.”

Why does James use Elijah?

Because few things seem harder than seeing a sick person healed or a lost person saved. We pray and pray for someone, yet that person still will not turn to Christ.

So we keep praying.

We pray, and we pray, and we do not give up.

Turn the Wanderer Home

James begins this chapter by confronting rich people who think they are secure, and he ends it with a sinner being turned from the error of his way:

“My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.”

Sometimes God uses sickness and difficult circumstances to get people’s attention.

That is why I have said this a hundred times, and I will say it again: if you are at a funeral and the preacher fails to give the gospel clearly, he has failed.

I have heard people say, “A funeral is not the place for a sermon. It is not the place for Jesus.”

No, this is the perfect place for Jesus.

People’s hearts are tender. Someone is gone, and he is not coming back. Everyone there needs to know that there is hope beyond death.

James’s closing command is not grammatically, “Go turn the sinner.” It is, “Let him know.” The one who restores a wanderer must understand the eternal importance of that work. But the exhortation is unmistakable: love does not casually watch someone wander toward destruction.

Love goes after him.

A lot of people do not want to wait. We are called to wait.

A lot of people want to complain. We are reminded that we are not the Judge.

A lot of people do not keep their word. We are called to let our yes be yes.

And some people say, “My sin is my problem. It is nobody else’s business.”

No. Your sin is everybody’s problem.

Our sin affects our spouses. It affects our children and grandchildren. It affects our church, our community, and our witness. This is why the world is in the state it is in. God does not leave us in our sin to wallow in it as if it will never hurt anyone else.

Sin may begin in one heart, but it never agrees to stay there.

This is why we pursue people. We warn them of the error of their ways because sin devastates lives. People live in rebellion against God and then wonder, “Why is my life so bad?”

Because sin destroys.

Pointing people back to Jesus is our obligation. It is one of the last things Jesus told us: go and tell the world.

Until Christ Returns

Beloved, until Christ returns, we are to keep plodding along:

• Be patient.

• Strengthen your heart.

• Stop complaining.

• Follow faithful examples.

• Keep your word.

• Pray when you suffer.

• Praise when you are cheerful.

• Call the elders.

• Confess your sins.

• Pray for one another.

• Pursue those who wander.

Are you suffering?

Pray.

Are you cheerful?

Praise God.

Are you sick?

Ask the church to pray for you.

Are you trapped in sin?

Confess it, turn from it, and ask the church to pray for you.

Are you watching someone wander?

Do not merely watch him go. Love him enough to pursue him, warn him of the danger, and point him home to Jesus.

We do not know when our time will come. Until it does, we continue day by day and minute by minute, pursuing God with all our hearts.

The faithful Christian is not always the person who moves the fastest. Often, he is simply the person who refuses to quit.

Keep plodding.

Keep pursuing.

Keep praying.

Closing Prayer

Father, I praise You for this Word. I thank You for today and for the message You have given us. Thank You, God, that You pursued us. You left the ninety-nine and came to find us.

Lord, help us live as James instructs. Help us be patient. Help us stop complaining. Help us strengthen our hearts, keep our word, confess our sins, and pray for one another.

Make us mindful of those around us who need the message of salvation. Make us mindful of our spouses, children, grandchildren, and friends who do not know Christ. Prick our hearts, O God.

Let us begin by praying for them. Then strengthen us and make our words bold so we will warn them of the danger they are in. Let us warn them before they drive the car off the cliff to their doom.

As we leave, show each of us which of James’s commands we most need to obey. Show us whom we need to help turn from a sinful way.

Thank You for our great salvation in Jesus. Thank You for Your love for us. Help us continue day by day and minute by minute—praying and praising.

In Christ’s name, amen.

Go find James chapter 4. We are going to start in verse 13, and then we are going to mosey on into chapter 5 a little bit too.

Let’s have two readers this morning. Somebody read James 4:13–17, and then somebody else read James 5:1–6.

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, engage in business, and make a profit.” Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.” But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil. Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin.

Come now, you rich people, weep and howl for your miseries which are coming upon you. Your riches have rotted and your garments have become moth-eaten. Your gold and your silver have rusted; and their rust will be a witness against you and will consume your flesh like fire. It is in the last days that you have stored up your treasure! Behold, the pay of the laborers who mowed your fields, and which has been withheld by you, cries out against you; and the outcry of those who did the harvesting has reached the ears of the Lord of armies. You have lived for pleasure on the earth and lived luxuriously; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter. You have condemned and put to death the righteous person; he offers you no resistance.

I’m sure most of us have flown on a plane at some point in our lives.

Usually, when you get on a plane, the pilot comes over the speaker and makes some comments. He might say, “We’re heading to New York from DFW today. The winds are good, the weather looks clear, and we should arrive in plenty of time. In fact, we may even get to the gate a few minutes early.”

Maybe you have heard that.

my wife heard everything opposite of that on her flight home from Rhode Island. It was more like, “We’re going to sit on the tarmac for another thirty minutes. Then we might get off the plane. Then we might get back on the plane.”

It was one of those situations.

Usually, though, when everything seems good and the pilot makes those comments, we have a tendency to relax.

“Great. We’re going to get there early. It is all going to be good.”

We like the certainty of that trip. We want to know that we are going to get on the plane and get off the plane at the exact time listed on the ticket.

The biggest headache is often trying to figure out when the person you are picking up is actually going to land. When I was picking up Tricia from Rhode Island, I sat at the airport for about two hours because the arrival time kept getting pushed back. Then they would not let them off the plane. It was one thing after another.

It was very nerve-racking.

We like certainty.

But what are some things a pilot cannot always be certain about?

Turbulence.

Weather.

Bird strikes.

Mechanical problems.

The toilets might not flush.

Crazy people.

You cannot account for all these things.

The pilot is not lying. He is making the best plans he can based on what he knows at that particular moment.

As we look at this passage, the apostle James is not condemning the making of plans. There is nothing wrong with making plans. In fact, there is enough wisdom in Proverbs to teach us that we should have a plan.

We should have plans for our families, our children, and our grandchildren.

But James is condemning planning that forgets God.

You cannot leave God out of your plans, your daily activities, or your business.

The Arrogance of Self-Reliance

There are a couple of things James is rebuking in this passage.

He is rebuking people for living arrogantly. They were living as if God did not matter. They were forgetting God, ignoring God, and trusting in their own self-reliance.

I came across that word recently, and it has really stuck with me: self-reliance.

Along with it comes self-sufficiency.

That is where the world lives.

The world relies completely upon its own power and abilities. People convince themselves that they are entirely sufficient to control and handle their own lives.

James is basically telling us, “You control nothing.”

You control nothing.

We get up every day, go to our jobs, and work for the benefit of our companies, employees, students, families, spouses, and children.

Sometimes, we work for our own benefit. We do things to make ourselves more productive.

There is nothing wrong with working. There is nothing wrong with planning.

But we must acknowledge the Lord in whatever we do.

Anytime we think our man-made plans are sufficient and reliable by themselves, we are already headed for trouble.

We are all complicit in this.

How many of us get up, run out the door, go to work, do this, do that, and never consider God at all?

It is so easy to fall into a routine.

I will be honest with you: I think that is where I was. I was just in a routine. It was like I was a robot.

Do this. Do that. Go here. Go there. Finish this. Start that.

It is easy even for someone whose task is to study the Scriptures to forget God.

We can do this.

Miseries, James says, are coming upon those who refuse to acknowledge the Lord’s will.

The point is that we need to acknowledge the Lord’s will in our decision-making. Whatever the decision is, we have to rely upon Him and recognize that He alone is all-sufficient.

Now, if I understood correctly, Odell taught on the providence of God several weeks ago.

Pop quiz.

What did Odell teach you about the providence of God?

“God is going to accomplish what He wants accomplished, whether we are willing or not.”

His plan will prevail.

Amen. Somebody was listening.

I think many of us still like to imagine that we are completely free and independent in everything we do. We like to believe that because we have certain abilities and skills, we can do whatever we please.

But Scripture tells us that although we might plan what we are going to do, God is the one who determines our steps.

We do not like to think about the fact that God sometimes allows bad things to happen. We like it even less when someone suggests that God may have ordained that bad thing.

We immediately say, “No, no, no. That is not my God. My God is a good God. My God does good things.”

Yes.

He also ordained that God the Son would die on a cross.

Sometimes we create a god in our own image.

We need to acknowledge the Lord in our decision-making.

The Illusion of Control

You will notice that I have structured these two sections together—the end of chapter 4 and the beginning of chapter 5—because James begins both sections with the same two words:

“Come now.”

That signals a particular line of thought.

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow, we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, engage in business, and make a profit.”

I call this first section the illusion of control.

We think we control the situation.

Looking only at verse 13, what assumptions are being made?

First, they assume they will still be alive tomorrow.

They assume they will go to a particular city.

They assume they will remain there for a full year.

They assume they will conduct business.

They assume they will make a profit.

That is the plan.

Again, we make these kinds of plans all the time.

We say, “I’m going to do this.”

Someone goes into business for himself and figures that within so many months or years, he will turn a profit. Jeff, who runs a food truck probably counts out the rice in his red beans and rice dish. He is that meticulous. He can probably tell you down to the ounce what something costs him.

There is nothing wrong with that.

That is the way God wired him, and we need people like that.

But we make assumptions.

We assume we will be here tomorrow.

Y’all, we are not guaranteed tomorrow.

We assume we are going to get to that city, make that profit, and remain there for a year.

Sometimes it is as simple as assuming the car will start.

You have all these plans, and then the car will not start.

What do we do?

If you are like me, you start chucking wrenches, cussing, and kicking tires.

Tricia has seen me chuck wrenches.

Then notice what James says in verse 14:

Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.

What does he compare our lives to?

A vapor.

Golly, James. Could you be just a little nicer about this? Could you sugarcoat it just a little bit?

No.

You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.

How comforting is that?

Maybe it is not comforting, but it is true.

I had a thought this morning as I was considering this. I realized that the only moment that matters is right now.

I cannot change anything in the past, and I sure as tootin’ do not know what is going to happen in the next five seconds.

The only moment we have is right now.

We are but a vapor.

Your children will know you. Your grandchildren will know you. Your great-grandchildren may or may not know much about you.

We are here only for a moment.

Then look at verse 15. This is the crux of the matter:

Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.”

Let me show you a couple of Proverbs.

Proverbs 16:9 says:

The mind of a person plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.

We have a plan. We know what we intend to do.

But God directs the steps.

The car is packed. The tank is full. The kids are loaded. The wife is happy. You are getting ready to leave on the trip.

Then the car will not start.

One option is to throw a fit.

Another option is to drop to your knees and say, “Thank You, Lord. I do not know what You are doing, but I guess we are putting this trip on pause for the moment.”

Is that not how we operate?

The last one to receive credit when things go well is God. But when things go badly, God is the first one we blame.

“Come on, Lord. What are You doing?”

Maybe in those moments, we need to stop and simply acknowledge God.

That does not mean acknowledging Him is some magic rabbit’s foot that will change His mind. Scripture simply tells us that we need to acknowledge Him in the situation.

He is in control.

If the car will not start, deal with that situation while trusting Him.

Proverbs 19:21 says:

Many plans are in a person’s heart, but the advice of the Lord will stand.

We can make plans out the wazoo, but God establishes the agenda.

That is why I do not go to Yellowstone by myself where the bears are.

Or the bison.

We do not know what God’s plan is. We have no clue.

Sometimes we get upset because our plans do not work out. But we do not know what the Lord might be saving us from or what He has in store.

That is difficult to remember because it is not the first thing that pops into our heads.

We do not know what the Lord might be saving us from.

I remember being a kid and badly wanting to know what my life was going to look like. I pleaded with God.

“God, give me this. Give me that. Let this happen. Let that happen.”

In my mind, that would have been the perfect life.

Now here I am, and I would never have imagined this.

That is not a bad thing. It simply is not what I pictured.

Sometimes we make bad choices. Of course we do.

Sometimes we do not even know whether the decision we are making is good or bad because we do not know what the result will be.

Sometimes we do the wrong thing for the right reason, or vice versa.

We do not always know.

God is the one orchestrating our steps.

Maybe He wants to take you through that valley.

Our house-building friend David may have thought it was a great decision to build a spec house, but then it did not sale for two whole months. Looking back, David could see God’s hand in all of it. God may have needed to take him down a particular path. There may still be reasons he does not understand.

I prayed for him during that time.

“Lord, You have to get this guy out of this. He is hurting. This is not good.”

He thought that house was going to be the be-all and end-all.

“This is going to do it.”

Then God dried it up.

Crickets.

But looking back, you can see God’s hand in it.

The Sin of Arrogance

Here is the sin James wants us to see.

Verse 16 says:

But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil.

We think we have it all together.

God hates that.

He hates arrogance. He hates the proud heart that believes it has everything figured out.

That is the heart of Satan.

“I will be like God.”

It is pride. It is arrogance.

For us to stand up and say, “I am going to build this food truck. It is going to be awesome, and everybody is going to love it,” is arrogance.

You do not know.

You have no clue.

Then verse 17 gives us the other side:

Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin.

Now we have both sides of the aisle, so to speak.

On one side, you are arrogant because you think you have everything figured out.

On the other side, you know what you are supposed to do, but you refuse to do it.

That is also sin.

We have enough information in this Bible to guide us. There is enough in this book for us to understand much of God’s will.

Does God want us to have a family?

Maybe. But family is a good thing.

Does God want us to live righteous lives?

Yes.

There are many things in Scripture that place the fence posts around us and show us where we need to live.

I am telling you, if we are not in the Scriptures—studying them, reading them, taking them in, and knowing what God says—we are going to be lost.

We will be lost.

It is absolutely necessary.

Arrogance will not excuse us.

Pleading ignorance will not excuse us.

The Illusion of Security

Then James comes down hard in the next section.

Chapter 5 begins:

Come now, you rich people, weep and howl for your miseries which are coming upon you.

Whether the rich are arrogant or merely ignorant, thinking, “I will let somebody else worry about that,” James says they have misery coming upon them.

The first section dealt with the illusion of control.

This section deals with the illusion of security.

We have this illusion that we are the ones who build our security. We convince ourselves that we have created everything we possess.

Look at verse 2:

Your riches have rotted and your garments have become moth-eaten.

Is anything we own going to last?

How many of us throw out clothes and shoes because they do not last?

Lawnmowers do not last.

Cars do not last.

Buildings do not last.

Everything becomes trash.

I do not understand where our world hides all the trash we produce.

Everything physically surrounding us at this moment—the building, the equipment, the furniture, and the things we use—cost thousands of dollars.

All of it is going to rot and become moth-eaten.

Yet we put our dependence upon these stupid things.

Walmart and Amazon are only tomorrows trash

I tell myself all the time, “The less I have, the better off I am.”

But I still want that.

“That will look great sitting on a shelf collecting dust.”

Verse 3 says:

Your gold and your silver have rusted; and their rust will be a witness against you and will consume your flesh like fire.

Watch that.

Their rust will be a witness against you.

It is in the last days that you have stored up your treasure!

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

James is telling them that they will stand before God and lose. Their flesh will be consumed because they put their trust in their wealth.

Their god was their money, their possessions, and their mammon.

Again, these things are not necessarily bad.

They are tools God has given us to use.

Our phones are fantastic tools. They can do amazing things and help us in many ways.

But when we bow down to those stupid things, they consume us.

Verse 4 says:

Behold, the pay of the laborers who mowed your fields, and which has been withheld by you, cries out against you; and the outcry of those who did the harvesting has reached the ears of the Lord of armies.

“Lord of armies” is sometimes translated as “Lord of hosts.”

This is the God of the angel armies.

The God with all angelic power behind Him sees that you are defrauding people, cheating people, and stealing from people.

This is one of those moments where we clearly know what Scripture says.

Do not steal from anyone.

No matter what.

But this is what the arrogant rich were doing.

Verse 5 says:

You have lived for pleasure on the earth and lived luxuriously; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter.

We live our lives thinking we need all this stuff.

We need a bigger house.

We need a shinier car.

We need the next super-cool, fast phone.

Someone suggested we should own only three sets of clothes.

I cannot do it, dude.

You just exposed an idol in me.

Three sets of clothes would free up a lot more space, though—for other junk.

We have all this stuff, and half the time, we do not even know what we own.

James says, “Come now, you rich.”

He is calling us out too.

Somebody is going to go home, look at his side of the closet, look at the other person’s side of the closet, and start quoting this verse.

No judging there, gentlemen. I will let y’all fight that battle yourselves.

Verse 6 says:

You have condemned and put to death the righteous person; he offers you no resistance.

These wealthy men were committing injustice against righteous people.

We see this every day in the news. People are treated poorly and unfairly by those who believe their money gives them the right to do whatever they want.

The rich convince themselves that their riches will save them, move them to the next rung of the ladder, and give them power over other people.

The Rich Fool

James is not the only one who speaks about this.

Jesus speaks about it very clearly.

In Luke 12, He told a parable:

The land of a rich man was very productive. And he began reasoning to himself, saying, “What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?” Then he said, “This is what I will do: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have many goods stored up for many years to come; relax, eat, drink, and enjoy yourself.’”

What is the very next verse?

But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your soul is demanded of you; and as for all that you have prepared, who will own it now?”

Jesus concludes:

Such is the one who stores up treasure for himself and is not rich in relation to God.

We do not know what is coming.

James is warning us, and we must warn others.

Weep and howl, because your misery is coming.

You think you have it all together, but you do not.

I plead this for my own life and for all of us: When we have an opportunity to speak a gold nugget of gospel truth, let us not miss it.

Yes, you might lose a friend.

Yes, you might lose a business partner.

Yes, you might offend a family member.

But, beloved, we need to warn them.

We need to warn them of the danger that is coming from a God who is absolutely just.

Hold Your Plans with an Open Hand

Put yourself back on that airplane for a moment.

Every one of us is on that plane.

The pilot says, “We are going to land a few minutes early.”

He has a plan, and we feel pretty good about everything.

But at the end of the day, only God knows whether that plane is actually going to land.

That is James’s point.

Make your plans.

Build your house.

Invest for the future.

Take a vacation.

It is okay to do these things.

Get more schooling. Earn certifications. Get a degree. Do whatever is necessary to grow and become stronger.

But whatever you hold in your hand, do not knuckle down on that thing.

Leave your hand open.

God is the one who controls it.

“Yes, I have a plan. I have an idea. But if the Lord wills, I will do it. If the Lord wills this, it will happen. This is what I am planning, if the Lord wills.”

Even the apostle Paul, when leaving the elders, said that if the Lord willed, he would return.

Guess what the Lord did not will?

His return.

A Prayer of Dependence

Father, I pray this morning that You would help us to be mindful of this very moment right now.

You tell us that today is the day of salvation. Lord, I pray that all of us would turn our hearts to You, O God, our Savior, the only King and the only Ruler of the universe.

You are the One who causes the sun to rise.

You are the One who commands the oceans, seas, and rivers.

You, O God, give life, and You take life in death.

You are the One to whom we turn.

You are the only One upon whom we can rely.

You are the only One who is sufficient for us.

O God, we need You—our King, our Savior, and our Friend.

God, I plead with You to turn our hearts toward You even now. Let us remember that we do not control the next five seconds.

You do.

Beloved, take a moment.

Get your heart straight with the Lord.

What do you need to confess?

Of what do you need to repent?

What do you need to do?

There are things we must do, yes. But ultimately, beloved, the Lord is the One who has done the work.

He knows what will happen in the next five seconds because He is the God of the universe.

He knew that we needed to be saved.

He knew that we would run from Him, just as Adam and Eve did.

We have been running from Him ever since.

But it was God who killed the animal and clothed Adam and Eve in their shame.

And it is God who clothes us in the righteousness of Christ.

Beloved, we can do nothing to earn this salvation.

All we can do now is obey His commands and worship Him.

Help us, O God, to do these things. Help us worship You with every moment and every fiber of our being. Help us obey what You have called us to do and refuse what You have forbidden us to do.

Father, thank You again for this moment today.

Guide us as we walk out of here, and if the Lord wills, let us return and worship together again next Sunday.

In Christ’s name I pray.

Amen.

All right, go find James chapter 2.

James chapter 2.

I entitled this sermon “Love Your Neighbor — All of Them.”

The Bible throws down some pretty hard commands sometimes. I think this is one of those passages where we look at it and we’re like, “Ooh, I’m not sure I’ve been doing that right.”

So James chapter 2, verses 1–13: the sin of partiality.

James writes:

“My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory.”

That’s how he starts. Show no partiality.

Then he gives us this little case study.

If a man wearing a gold ring and fine clothing comes into your assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, and you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, “You sit here in a good place,” while you say to the poor man, “You stand over there,” or “Sit down at my feet,” James asks:

“Have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?”

Uh-oh.

Like I said, James kind of lays it on thick.

As I looked at this, I got to thinking about the story Jesus told when a lawyer came and asked Him, “Teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus said, “What is written?”

The man answered, “Love God and love your neighbor.”

Jesus said, “You have answered correctly. Go do that.”

Then the man said, “Well, who is my neighbor?”

Now, his motives were dark. He meant to catch Jesus in a trap. He didn’t really want to know who his neighbor was. But Jesus, being the good teacher, proceeded to tell him who his neighbor was.

And He told the story of the Good Samaritan.

What is the crux of that story?

What’s the point?

What’s the gist?

What’s the central idea?

Love everybody.

Even your enemies.

That’s the key right there.

The whole point of that story is that you love the guy you would not normally associate with. And Jesus finishes that story by saying:

“Go and do the same.”

So when you look at James 2, especially verses 2–4, we’re talking about preferential treatment. James is telling us that when we show preferential treatment, or when we are partial in some way, then we are sinning.

We have become judges.

And not only judges, but judges with evil thoughts.

That’s hard.

And in verse 7, James says, speaking about the rich:

“Are they not the ones who blaspheme the honorable name by which you were called?”

When we don’t show love, we give ammunition to the world.

How many people could we ask right now, “Have you ever been offended by a church?” and they would say, “Oh yeah.”

They take up arms against the church, against Christianity, and against God.

But here’s the point of it, y’all.

This is where it digs deep. This is where it hits hard.

If Christ demands that we love our neighbor, then Christians need to start embracing lesbians, gays, bisexuals, trans people, queers, drag queens, pedophiles, rapists, murderers, and — you fill in the blank.

Now, there is a bit of a qualification to this. James does say in verse 2, “If a man comes into your assembly,” and then, “If a poor man comes into your assembly.” He is talking about the church. He is talking about the gathering of Christians.

That’s the caveat to this passage.

But I think it extends beyond this too. I think we can push that a little bit and say, “You know, christians are supposed to love people outside the building too.”

And James says we are to do this because this is what the law of liberty demands.

It’s not easy, but that’s what we’re called to do.

Look at verses 1–4.

This idea of favoritism cannot go hand-in-hand with our love for Christ.

We cannot declare that we love Christ and have faith in Christ while showing favoritism.

James says:

“My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory.”

The great King of the universe. The sovereign ruler. The One who died and rose again. The Lord of glory.

Show no partiality as you hold faith in Christ.

Then James gives us this little case study: two men walk in, and you give preferential treatment to the rich guy.

Now imagine with me.

What if that door opened right back there, and two people were greeted?

One is a drag queen in full regalia. I’ll let you use your own imagination there.

And the other is a murderer.

Now the drag queen obviously comes in with all their stuff. Just — whoo.

But the murderer? Let’s say this murderer is a finely dressed lady. Business suit. Looks put together. Hair is decent. Teeth are straight. Normal person.

Now, we may not know she’s a murderer, obviously.

But where would our preferential treatment tend to lie?

We would lean toward the one who is more finely dressed, wouldn’t we?

Don’t lie.

You know we would.

The normal one.

Imagine if some white-trash, blue-collar family walked in the door, and then right behind them came a Muslim family.

Some of us would see the white-trash people and be like, “Oh, my people.”

Some of us would see the Muslim family and start to get nervous.

That’s what we do, isn’t it?

We become judges with evil motives because we don’t know people.

Now look at verses 5–7.

James says:

“Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which He has promised to those who love Him? But you have dishonored the poor man.”

Again, there is a bit of metaphor here. There is hyperbole going on, because it is not just poor people who get saved. Lots of rich people get saved.

But the idea in Scripture is that there are the wise and the fool, the rich and the poor. And when James talks about the poor, he is talking about those who come broken.

But it is more than just broken bank accounts and low status.

It is brokenness in their spiritual life and their understanding.

Rich people often come with arrogance, pride, money, and power. They think their wealth can change the world for them. And to some extent, they are probably right.

So it is easy for us to lean toward those who seem more well-to-do.

But James says no.

It is the poor of the world that God makes rich in faith.

It is the poor of the world who become heirs of the kingdom.

And yet we don’t know who is walking through the door.

We don’t know who is coming into our situation.

Somebody asked recently, “Can I invite someone who is gay?”

Absolutely.

Sure.

Invite them.

Bring them in.

They probably need to be here just as much as we do.

There is nothing wrong with bringing people in and loving on them.

Then look at verses 8–12.

James says:

“If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing well.”

That royal law is loving your neighbor as yourself.

And what is that connected to?

The Ten Commandments, especially commandments five through ten.

Honor your parents.

Do not murder.

Do not commit adultery.

Do not steal.

Do not lie.

Do not covet.

Those commandments show us what it means to love our neighbor.

That is the royal law.

But James says if we break any one of those commandments, we have broken all of God’s commandments.

And I am pretty sure we have all broken these commandments.

Pretty sure we have all judged people with evil thoughts and motives.

Pretty sure we have all shown favoritism, lied about somebody, stolen from somebody because we thought less of them.

Pretty sure we have coveted other people’s stuff because we thought we needed that stuff too.

Then verse 12 says:

“So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty.”

All of us will be judged by the law of liberty.

Back in James 1:25, he says:

“But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres…”

So we are to look into and persevere in the royal law, this law of liberty.

Now, none of us can keep this law perfectly.

That is Christ’s job.

Christ did this for us.

He is the ultimate perfect man.

He did what no man could do.

He fulfilled all of God’s royal decrees and commands and laws.

So it is in Him that we stand righteous.

We know this.

But we are to speak and act as those who will be judged by Christ.

Then verse 13:

“For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment.”

Ouch.

If we have partaken of this good salvation, if we have experienced this impartial God who sovereignly saves unredeemed people, if He makes unredeemed, unloving, poor people heirs of His kingdom, and then forms these unredeemed, terrible people into little churches called His body, then He commands that they do the same thing.

Show no partiality.

Love the unlovable.

Partiality contradicts God’s character.

Look around the room.

We are all vastly different.

Why did God save us?

I don’t know.

And if we went to a whole lot of honest-to-goodness churches, we would see a lot of different types of faces.

We would find people who have come out of some filthy lifestyles.

God shows no partiality.

Why should we?

Partiality violates the law.

It violates His law to love other people.

When we rank people as soon as they walk through the door, that violates His law of loving our neighbor.

And partiality invites judgment.

James says:

“Judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy.” (13)

If we have partaken of the divine fruit of eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord, if we have truly come to the conclusion that our sin is so heinous and so terrible that we deserve every bit of hell, but we are not going to get it because of what Christ has done for us, then if we have received that kind of mercy, should we not also show the same type of mercy?

We should.

But that is why I started wrestling with this passage.

Because there are a lot of people out there who are really hard to love.

And if we bring them into the church, then what?

We need to meet people in their need.

If someone has a need, you help them. You do not just say, “I’ll pray for you,” and then do nothing.

The Good Samaritan did not just get the man off the street. He took care of him. He got him somewhere to stay. He paid for him to be helped until he got better.

That is mercy.

That is love.

But we also need to think carefully about how love and truth work together.

Go to 1 Timothy 5.

Paul writes to Timothy, helping him establish order in the church. In chapter 5, he says:

“Do not sharply rebuke an older man, but rather appeal to him as a father, to the younger men as brothers, the older women as mothers, and the younger women as sisters, in all purity.”

There is a time when we need to appeal to people, but it comes with gentleness, concern, and care.

We treat them like brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers.

Then later he says:

“Those who continue in sin, rebuke in the presence of all, so that the rest will be fearful of sinning.”

A person who comes into our ranks should hopefully start to feel some pressure, because sin is not supposed to be part of us.

Paul also says:

“Do not lay hands upon anyone too hastily, and thereby share responsibility for the sins of others. Keep yourself free from sin.”

Do not lay hands on anyone too hastily.

That means we need to be careful about putting people into positions too quickly.

We had a conversation about a church that allowed openly gay couples to serve in some small capacity, like directing cars in the parking lot.

I would say no.

If someone is living an openly alternative lifestyle that we know is not appropriate, they do not get a position in the church — even if it is directing cars.

They can come.

They can hear the Word.

They can be loved.

But they do not get placed into service or leadership while openly rejecting what Scripture teaches.

Matthew 18 gives us the pattern.

You approach them.

Then you take two or three witnesses.

Then you bring it to the church.

No, it is not easy.

But it is biblical.

Go find Matthew 7:15–20.

Jesus says:

“Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”

Now, we do not always know who the false prophets are.

But Jesus says:

“You will know them by their fruits.”

Beloved, if the drag queen comes in and the murderer comes in, and the drag queen starts to change their demeanor, their clothes, their thinking, but the murderer is still secretly killing people every full moon, there is a good chance the drag queen may have gotten saved.

You will know them by their fruits.

We should never keep anyone from coming in the doors of the church.

But once they are in, we have to watch their growth.

Then go to Titus 3.

Paul tells Titus:

“Remind them to be subject to rulers, to authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good deed, to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men.”

That is what Titus was commanded to teach.

Then Paul says:

“For we also once were foolish ourselves, disobedient, deceived, enslaved to various lusts and pleasures…”

That is us.

We were once foolish.

We were once disobedient.

We were once deceived.

We were once enslaved to lusts and pleasures.

We spent our lives in malice and envy, hateful, hating one another.

But then:

“When the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, He saved us…”

Not because of works done by us in righteousness.

But according to His mercy.

We are all saved from the same cesspool of spirituality.

We all got plucked out of the same embers of fire that we deserved.

But there should be something different about us now.

Those who believe in God should be careful to engage in good deeds.

Then Paul says:

“Reject a factious man after a first and second warning.”

There is a standard we are called to live by as a church.

If someone comes in and continues in open rebellion, if there is no repentance, no fruit, no change, then there has to be a warning.

And after that, there may have to be separation.

That is hard.

But the church cannot pretend sin is not sin.

We love people.

We welcome people.

We show mercy.

But we do not celebrate what God condemns.

Last passage: Acts 20.

Paul says to the elders:

“Be on guard for yourselves and for all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He purchased with His own blood.”

Then he warns:

“I know that after my departure savage wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock.”

Paul continuously admonished these leaders to shepherd the church and to follow Christ at all costs to our sin.

This is what the church is called to do.

So at the end of the day, when James says, “Do not show partiality,” we obey.

We love them.

We try to meet their needs.

We do what James teaches us to do.

And later in James, he will say that if someone needs help, we should not merely say, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled.”

Help them.

But these other passages help frame the situation too.

There should be change.

There should be fruit.

There should be repentance.

So James says:

“So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty. For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment.”

Beloved, we are called to show mercy.

We are called to show love.

That is the bottom line.

Yes, there are times when we have to be more severe and more direct.

That comes case by case.

But the command remains:

Love your neighbor.

All of them.

Show no partiality.

Show mercy like mercy was first shown to you.

We started by talking about the heart. James gives us two kinds of wisdom: wisdom from above and wisdom from the earth. Then we went back to chapter one and talked about the wisdom we need under pressure—counting it all joy when we encounter various trials. Then we moved to chapter four and saw our need for humility in the way we treat one another.

Now James brings us to our words.

A few weeks ago, we looked at James 1, where he tells us to be quick to hear and slow to speak. Then we looked at the first part of James 3 and saw that our words reveal our heart.

Today, James finishes that thought.

He tells us we have a fire in our mouth.

And it is not from salsa.

James writes:

“How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire…”

One small spark can cause a great fire.

We know that. We have seen it. We have watched fires sweep across dry land and destroy everything in their path. One ember. One spark. One careless moment. Then homes are gone, communities are damaged, and lives are turned upside down.

That is the image James gives us for the tongue.

Our words can do that.

Why do we excuse gossip?
Why do we excuse slander?
Why do we excuse cutting humor, angry outbursts, online cruelty, exaggeration, and arrogance?

We all do it.

We tell a story one way the first time, then the second time around it gets a little grander. The fish starts this big and somehow ends up this big. We know how that works.

But James does not let us laugh it off.

He describes the tongue as fire, poison, and cursing. This passage does not let up. James hits the accelerator from the first word and keeps driving over our toes.

An uncontrolled tongue exposes a dark heart.

That is hard, but it is true.

James says the tongue is “a world of unrighteousness.” It stains the whole body. It sets on fire the entire course of life. Then he tells us the source of that fire: hell.

Beloved, sinful speech spreads rapidly and destroys more than we ever imagine.

You probably remember something somebody said to you years ago. Maybe when you were a child. Maybe when you were a teenager. That cutting word still echoes. That accusation still hurts. It still takes your breath away.

Some of us remember the words we said. We remember the face of the person standing in front of us. We watched their countenance fall. We saw their heart get crushed. We knew in that moment our words were destroying them.

We remember those moments.

James says the tongue is like a small fire that sets a great forest ablaze. It starts small, but it becomes massive. A small sentence can burn down trust. A few words can change a relationship. A careless comment can alter the course of somebody’s life.

This is why Proverbs says life and death are in the power of the tongue.

James moves from fire to poison:

“No human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.”

We can tame animals. We train dogs, horses, birds, dolphins, and even massive creatures. We have dancing bears and bike-riding monkeys. We can shape the behavior of beasts.

But James says no man can tame the tongue.

That means this is not merely a self-help issue. This is not just learning how to say things nicer. This is not simply behavior modification.

This is a heart issue.

There is a direct line from the heart to the tongue.

What is in the heart comes out of the mouth.

You can modify the behavior of an animal. Give it enough treats, train it long enough, and it will learn the pattern. But the tongue is different because the tongue is connected to the heart. Pride speaks. Bitterness speaks. Anger speaks. Jealousy speaks. Sin speaks.

And sometimes words come out before we even realize what we are saying.

We have all had that moment. The words leave our mouth, land on the ears of everyone around us, and we think, “Well, I probably should not have said that.”

Then James presses even harder:

“With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.”

What else can be said?

We sing praise to God, then curse the man who cuts us off in traffic. We pray for the Lord’s help, then speak harshly to our spouse or our children. We bless God with the same tongue we use to tear down people made in His image.

James says:

“My brothers, these things ought not to be so.”

That is not the way it should be.

A spring does not pour out fresh and salt water from the same opening. A fig tree does not bear olives. A grapevine does not produce figs. A salt pond does not yield fresh water.

James is telling us that the fruit reveals the root.

What comes out of the mouth reveals what sits inside the heart.

Jesus says the same thing in Matthew 12:

“Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or make the tree bad and its fruit bad, for the tree is known by its fruit… For the mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart.”

Then Jesus says something that ought to sober every one of us:

“I tell you that every careless word that people speak, they shall give an accounting for it in the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”

No middle ground.

You are either a good tree or a bad tree. A fresh spring or a salt pond. A tongue that gives life or a tongue that burns forests down. A tongue that becomes an antidote or a tongue full of poison.

And if you are like me, you know exactly how uncomfortable this passage is.

One minute we praise God. The next minute we curse someone made in His image. One minute we sing worship in the car. The next minute we speak death to someone we love.

There is only one answer for that.

Christ.

The tongue changes only when the heart changes.

Christ is our Savior. He is our God. He is the author and perfecter of our faith. He does not merely tell us to clean up our words. He changes the heart that produces those words.

This is not just walking an aisle, getting baptized, and pretending everything is fixed. This is heart surgery. God removes the heart of stone and gives a heart of flesh.

That is why the Christian begins to recognize, “That is not how I should speak. That is not what my Savior wants from me. That is not what Christ has called me to say.”

This passage should not merely beat us down. It should draw a line in the sand.

Our words reveal our hearts.

If our speech is full of poison, fire, bitterness, slander, arrogance, and cursing, then we do not need excuses. We need repentance.

And if we belong to Christ, we do not correct our speech merely because it makes life easier. We correct our speech because we want to please God.

So let us not take speech casually.

Let us not use words carelessly.

Let us ask God to make our mouths speak life. Let us ask Him to give us words that come from a heart transformed by Christ.

Because the only way we correct our language, our words, and our speech is if our heart belongs to Him.

Nobody pays much attention to this problem.

And that is the problem.

We can hear the Word of God. We can sit under it. We can nod at it. We can say, “That was good.” We can even quote it later.

And still not do it.

That is where James takes us in James 1:19–27. We are back in the first chapter, and James is still pressing this larger issue of wisdom. Earlier in the chapter, he dealt with trials and temptations. He reminded believers that trials are not useless. Trials come from God’s hand. They build endurance. They teach us to trust Him. They mature us.

But then James turns a corner.

He moves from how believers endure trials to how believers receive and respond to the Word of God.

And he does not let us hide.

James writes:

“Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger…”

We know this passage. We have heard it a thousand times. It has every wonderful T-shirt phrase we could ever want.

Be quick to hear.
Slow to speak.
Slow to anger.
Be doers of the Word.
Pure and undefiled religion.

It all sounds good.

But the danger with familiar passages is that we stop letting them search us. We hear them, recognize them, and move on. Familiarity can become a hiding place. We can know the words and miss the warning.

James is not giving us soft religious advice. He is exposing empty religion.

He is saying: Do not trust sermon listening.

That does not mean sermon listening is bad. We need preaching. We need the Word. Faith comes by hearing. God uses His Word to save, convict, comfort, and sanctify His people.

But sermon listening alone is not obedience.

That is James’s burden.

It is not just about hearing the Word. It is about doing it.

The Old Problem of Hearing Without Doing

This problem did not begin with James.

Several hundred years before James, God said something very similar to Ezekiel:

“Come now, and hear what the message is which comes forth from the Lord.”

The people came. They sat before Ezekiel. They listened. They treated him almost like a gifted musician with a beautiful voice. They liked the sound of the message.

But God said:

“They hear your words, but they do not do them.”

That is painfully modern.

A person can enjoy preaching the way he enjoys music. He can appreciate the delivery. He can like the style. He can agree with the doctrine. He can walk out saying, “That was a good word.”

And still not obey.

False religion disgusts people. But false Christianity disgusts God more than anything.

James attacks this empty form of religion because we can slip into it so easily. We can admire the Word without receiving it. We can listen to the Word without doing it. We can use religious language while our lives stay unchanged.

This passage breaks naturally into three movements:

1. Receive the Word

2. Do the Word

3. Display the Word

That is where James takes us.

Receive the Word

James begins:

“Know this, my beloved brothers…”

That little phrase matters. James speaks to believers. He loves them. He calls them brothers. But he also tells them something they need to keep knowing.

Be quick to hear.

There is a continual posture here. Believers should always stand ready to hear from God. Our lives should look like a movie constantly playing: always moving toward the Word, always ready to listen, always eager to hear.

But then there are moments. Snapshot moments.

Moments when we need to stop and listen.

Moments when we need to be slow to speak.

Moments when we need to be slow to anger.

We all know those moments.

Something happens. Someone says something. A situation does not go the way we want. Our pride rises. Our anger wakes up. Our tongue gets ready to run.

And James says, “Slow down.”

Be quick to hear.

Slow to speak.

Slow to anger.

Then he gives the reason:

“For the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.”

That almost seems obvious, but we need to hear it.

Human anger feels productive. It feels like we are doing something. It feels strong. It feels justified. It feels righteous.

But James says it does not produce God’s righteousness.

Our anger might win an argument, but it will not sanctify the soul. Our anger might silence someone, but it will not produce holiness. Our anger might make us feel powerful, but it often makes us deaf.

So James says:

“Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness…”

Put it away.

Not manage it.
Not rename it.
Not excuse it.
Not compare it to someone else’s sin.

Put it away.

There are moments when we must take the filthiness and wickedness clinging to us and put it down. Right there. In that moment. No debate. No delay.

Then James says:

“Receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.”

That is a beautiful phrase: the implanted Word.

God does not merely throw His Word at us from the outside. He plants it in His people. The Word takes root. The Word grows. The Word bears fruit.

And James says that Word is able to save your souls.

There is a great picture here of salvation. There was a moment when Christ saved us. That is justification. There is a continual process where Christ is saving us and making us more like Himself. That is sanctification. And one day, when we see Christ face to face, we will be fully saved. That is glorification.

Saved.
Being saved.
Will be saved.

Right now, we live in that middle part. We are being sanctified. We are being shaped by the Word Christ has implanted in us.

So James says: you know this.

Be quick to hear.
Be slow to speak.
Be slow to anger.
Put away filthiness.
Receive the implanted Word.

The Word that saved you is still working in you.

Do the Word

Then James moves to the heart of the passage:

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”

That phrase ought to stop us cold.

Be doers of the Word.

This is not a one-time Sunday snapshot. This is the continual pattern of the Christian life. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Always doing the Word. Always bringing life under the Word.

James does not say hearing is bad. Hearing is necessary. You cannot obey what you have not heard.

But he says do not be a hearer only.

Because if you are a hearer only, you are deceiving yourself.

That is damning.

People can admire Jesus. They can respect the church. They can like Christian morality. They might vote for someone who defends Judeo-Christian values. They might say, “I believe the Bible.” They might even enjoy a good sermon.

But if they hear the Word and do not do it, James says they are deceived.

And Christians can fall into that trap too.

We can give spiritual “attaboys” to the Word while refusing to obey it.

“Yes, preacher. Amen. That is right.”

But then we do not forgive. We do not repent. We do not bridle our tongue. We do not show mercy. We do not resist the world. We do not put away filthiness.

We only hear.

James gives us an illustration:

“For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror.”

The Word is a mirror.

A mirror shows you what is there. It does not flatter. It does not lie. It does not care about your feelings. It just tells the truth.

If you wake up in the morning and your hair looks like it has been fighting demons all night, the mirror shows you.

If you have something on your face, the mirror shows you.

If something needs fixing, the mirror reveals it.

But imagine looking in the mirror, seeing the problem, shrugging, and walking away unchanged.

What good was the mirror?

That is what we do with the Word of God.

The Word shows us anger. We walk away angry.

The Word shows us an unbridled tongue. We keep talking.

The Word shows us worldliness. We keep embracing it.

The Word shows us neglected mercy. We keep ignoring people.

The Word shows us filthiness. We keep wearing it.

We look into the mirror and say, “Good sermon.”

Then we walk away.

James says, do not do that.

Then verse 25 gives the contrast:

“But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres…”

The blessed man looks into the perfect law. He abides in it. He does not forget. He acts.

That phrase “law of liberty” is fascinating.

We tend to think law and liberty fight each other. The world says freedom means doing whatever I want. Freedom means no restraint. Freedom means nobody tells me what to do.

James says the opposite.

God’s law is liberty.

Why?

Because sin is slavery.

Anger is not freedom. Lust is not freedom. Greed is not freedom. Bitterness is not freedom. An uncontrolled tongue is not freedom. Worldliness is not freedom.

We are either under the law of sin and flesh, or we are under the law of Christ.

When Christ brings us out from under the slavery of sin and into His kingdom, we become truly free. We become what God designed humans to be: worshipers of the one true God.

Think of a dog chained in a backyard.

That dog can move a little. He can go as far as the chain lets him. Maybe someone tosses him food. Maybe he catches a squirrel every once in a while. But he remains chained. He cannot run freely. He does not know the joy of walking with a loving master.

And if he gets tangled around the tree, he just sits there stuck.

Sin works like that.

Sin does not care about you. Satan does not care about you. He wants your destruction.

But then a loving master comes. He nourishes the dog. He feeds him. He earns trust. Eventually, he takes off the chain. Now the dog walks with the master. He hears the master’s voice. He obeys. He runs freer under that loving authority than he ever did chained to the tree.

That is a picture of the law of liberty.

Under sin, we are not free. We are captured.

But when Christ frees us, we finally begin to live as God intended. We see the truth of the gospel. We understand that we have offended a high and holy God. We feel the weight of our sin. Then Christ redeems us. He breathes life into us. He removes the scales from our eyes.

And now we are alive.

More alive under Christ than we ever were under sin.

The world says, “I have free will. I can do what I want.”

Yes, all the way to destruction.

You can sleep around. You can chase drugs. You can party. You can live for yourself. You can do whatever you want. But that road ends in death.

But believers are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.

We do not do Christianity to earn our way to God.

We do Christianity because Christ saved us, redeemed us, changed us, and planted His Word in our hearts.

That is a vast difference.

Display the Word

Then James gets down to where the rubber meets the road:

“If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless.”

That is blunt.

James says if your religion does not touch your tongue, your religion is worthless.

Not weak.
Not incomplete.
Worthless.

The tongue tells on us.

Do you bridle your tongue?

Are you careful with your words?

Do your words heal, or do they cut?

Are your words the same at home as they are at church?

Do you use your mouth to bless God on Sunday and tear people apart on Monday?

James says pure religion shows itself in speech.

Then he says:

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this…”

Notice that James does not reject religion. He rejects false religion.

There is worthless religion.
There is pure religion.

There is defiled religion.
There is undefiled religion.

There is religion God rejects.
There is religion God receives.

And pure religion looks like this:

“To visit orphans and widows in their affliction…”

That means practical mercy.

Think about the afflicted. The vulnerable. The forgotten. The people who cannot repay you. The people who cannot scratch your back after you scratch theirs.

Do we help them?

Do we lift even one finger for those who cannot pay us back?

It is easy to help people who can help us later. But James says pure religion moves toward those who cannot repay.

And then he adds:

“And to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

That one stings.

Because we must ask: what about this world still clings to me?

What has the world normalized that I have stopped resisting?

What has the culture called good, pleasant, acceptable, or harmless that I have quietly embraced?

It is easy for us to reshape Christianity until it fits the world. But if we walk with Christ, we will continuously bump up against the world. We should feel the conflict.

Does our private life match what people see at church?

Are we the same people when nobody else watches?

That is where the rubber meets the road.

Now, we can fake all three of these.

We can fake bridled speech.
We can fake helping people.
We can fake looking unstained.

We can come to church, act Christian, talk Christian, and still fake it.

But unless Christ has truly changed us, we are just performing.

That is the beauty and the seriousness of Christianity.

The Word must be implanted. It must be received. It must be done. It must be displayed.

The Comfort for Messed-Up People

Now, here is where we need to be honest.

All of us will still fail.

There will be moments when we need to put away filthiness. There will be moments when anger rises. There will be moments when we speak wrongly. There will be moments when the world clings tighter than we realized.

Some days go better than others.

Sometimes something happens, and there we are again.

And in that moment, James says, put it away. Receive the implanted Word. Come back to Christ.

I can testify to this personally.

When I fail, when I say something or do something that I know displeases God, I can beat myself up badly. In my mind, where nobody else can see it, I am already casting myself into hell.

How could You love me, God?

How can I believe these things are true?

How can I say these things on Sunday and then think these things on Tuesday?

It is easy for me to get wrapped up in my own self-condemnation.

But I can only testify to the Lord’s goodness.

Always, always, always, what comes flooding back into my mind is His Word.

“My mercy is new, Paul. Every day, My mercy is new.”

Yes, God hates my sin. And yes, sin has consequences. But He still loves me.

That overwhelms me.

And I can only say that because of what Christ has already done.

I cannot go to church enough. I cannot say enough prayers. I cannot come to a building every night and do enough religious activity to make myself feel better.

None of that saves.

What matters is that Christ has planted His Word in my heart. In that moment, I put away filthiness. I receive the implanted Word. I do what Christ calls me to do.

Beloved, all of us will fail. Your sin will remain with you until the day you die.

But Christ’s mercy is rich. It is abundant.

Does He like your sin?

No.

But does He love His people?

Yes.

He loves you because of who He is. He loves you because He has given you His Spirit. He has planted His Word in you. And He is still making you into a doer.

That should comfort us.

We are mess-ups.

We need to be quick to hear the Word of God. We need to be slow in our speaking. We definitely need to be slow in our anger.

Because when we get angry, we take over. We try to fix everything. We try to make the situation right in our own strength.

But the anger of man never produces the righteousness of God.

Our own ability never produces the righteousness of God.

At the end of the day, this passage calls us to become doers of the Word because God has given us that Word. He has planted it deep in our hearts. We love Him. We now stand in a freedom unbelievers do not know.

And we do these things because the Father loves us.

His Son, our King, loves us.

So in those moments, we trust Him to guide us and help us.

And to those who do not know Christ, the call remains clear: you need to receive the Word. You need more than religion. You need more than sermon listening. You need more than moral improvement.

You need Christ.

You need justification. You need salvation. You need the implanted Word that is able to save your soul.

For believers, we know the truth. Now we must keep coming back to it. We must keep looking intently into the perfect law of liberty. We must abide in it. We must not forget it. We must do it.

Stay vigilant.

There are things in this world that need to be turned off. There are stations we do not need to listen to. There are podcasts we need to avoid. There are habits we need to kill. There are influences we need to resist.

Sometimes we need to force ourselves toward the good.

Not because we are earning God’s love.

Because we already have it in Christ.

So, beloved, do not trust sermon listening.

Hear the Word.
Receive the Word.
Do the Word.
Display the Word.

And keep looking into the perfect law of liberty until the Word of God shapes your speech, moves your hands toward mercy, and keeps you unstained from the world.

That sounds heavy until you realize what James is describing.

He is describing repentance.

Submission means I stop trying to be king. Resisting the devil means I stop making peace with temptation. Drawing near to God means I do not hide from Him in my guilt, but run to Him in my need. Cleansing and purifying mean I want real holiness, not fake religion. Mourning over sin means I finally admit my sin is ugly because God is holy. Humility means I take the lower place and trust God to lift me up.

And here is the key: we do not do any of this apart from Christ.

We cannot cleanse ourselves. We cannot produce true humility by grit alone. We cannot draw near to God by moral effort. Christ is the one who makes all of this possible. He submitted to the Father perfectly. He defeated Satan. He cleanses sinners. He grants repentance. He brings us near.

So James is not preaching “try harder.” He is preaching, “Bow lower. Run to Christ. Stop playing games with sin. Stop flirting with the world. Stop defending your pride. Come near to God.”

That is the path back.

And the promise at the end is beautiful: “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.”

The way up is down. Always has been. And Christ walked that road first.

complete sermon manuscript

James 4:1-10

We have been bouncing around a little bit in James, but there is a reason for it. I have really been pursuing this idea of wisdom topically, and then tracing it as James develops it. We looked at chapter 3 and the right kind of wisdom. Then we looked back at chapter 1 and saw how wisdom helps us deal with trials. Now chapter 4 takes us into wisdom again, but from another angle: quarreling, fighting, and why that happens.

And all of it has to do with the heart.

These are inner issues. Why do we refuse wisdom? How should we choose wisdom? How should the heart produce wisdom so that we can endure trials rightly and, as James now shows us, overcome the quarreling and fighting that show up among us?

James asks it plainly: “What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you?” Then he answers it just as plainly: “Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you?” That is James’s diagnosis. The war outside of us is coming from a war inside of us.

That is still true.

We see fighting in the world. We see fighting in homes, churches, politics, families, and friendships. Nothing has changed. But James does not let us blame our circumstances first. He points to the heart. He says our passions are at war within us. We desire and do not have. We covet and cannot obtain. So we fight. We quarrel. And sometimes the whole thing gets uglier than we ever imagined it could.

James is dealing here with the proud heart. That is really what is underneath this passage. A proud heart wants what it wants. A proud heart resents not getting what it wants. A proud heart will use people, prayer, and even religion in an effort to get what it wants.

That is why verse 3 lands so hard: “You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.”

There is nothing wrong with asking God for daily bread. Jesus Himself taught us to do that. He knows we need food. He knows we need money for bills. He knows we need strength for work and help in ordinary life. James is not rebuking simple dependence on God. He is attacking selfish prayer. He is attacking the kind of prayer that is really just baptized self-interest. We ask, but we ask for us. We pray, but we pray for our passions. We want God to serve our kingdom.

That is a proud heart.

Then James gets even stronger. “You adulterous people. Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God?” That is sharp language. Old Testament language. Prophetic language. James is speaking like the prophets spoke when they confronted Israel for spiritual unfaithfulness.

The Bible only gives us two categories in the end. There are those who belong to God and those who do not. Those who bow to Christ and those who will not. Those who are proud and those who are humble. Those who love the world and those who love God.

That is why this verse unsettles us. We hear it and we wonder, “Is James talking to believers or unbelievers?” I think the answer is probably a little of both. He is warning the false professor, the one who may have attached himself to the people of God outwardly but has never truly bowed the knee to Christ. And he is also warning the genuine believer not to drift back toward the world system Christ saved him out of.

Still, we need to be careful here. If Christ has truly saved you, James 4:4 is not meant to make you think Christ failed to keep you. It is meant to warn you about the seriousness of worldliness. Believers can drift. Believers can stumble. Believers can be disciplined. But discipline is not the same as condemnation. James is drawing a hard line in the sand because God does not share His glory with the world.

Then comes the turn in the passage.

Verse 5 and especially verse 6 begin to move us from diagnosis to hope. God jealously yearns over the spirit He has made to dwell within us. That is astonishing language. God loves His people because He has given Himself to them. He has sealed them with His Spirit. He is jealous for what is His. He does not shrug at our worldliness. He does not stand back in indifference. He yearns over His people.

And then James says, “But he gives more grace.”

That is one of the sweetest turns in all of Scripture.

Our sin is real. Our pride is real. Our divided hearts are real. But His grace is more. Greater grace. More grace. Abounding grace. James even quotes Proverbs: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

There is the hinge.

God opposes the proud. That means the proud man’s greatest problem is not his circumstances. It is God Himself standing against him. But God gives grace to the humble. That means the humble sinner, the broken sinner, the bowed sinner, the one who stops defending himself and runs to mercy, finds that grace is already waiting on him.

And that grace is not abstract. That grace is Christ.

Christ is the greater grace James is pointing us to. Christ is the mediator for proud hearts. Christ is the faithful one for spiritual adulterers. Christ is the one who submitted perfectly to the Father. Christ is the one who resisted Satan in the wilderness, at the cross, and finally in triumph through the empty tomb. Christ is the one who brings us near to God. Christ is the one who cleanses dirty hands and purifies double-minded hearts. Christ is the one who gives repentance. Christ is the one who humbles us and, in due time, lifts us up.

So when James begins piling up commands in verses 7 through 10, we should not hear them as bare moralism. We should hear them as the fruit of grace.

Submit yourselves therefore to God.
Resist the devil.
Draw near to God.
Cleanse your hands.
Purify your hearts.
Be wretched and mourn and weep.
Humble yourselves before the Lord.

Those are not random commands. They are the pathway of repentance. They are what it looks like when grace breaks a proud heart.

Submission means laying your life down before God. Resisting the devil means refusing to make peace with temptation. Drawing near to God means not running from Him in your guilt, but toward Him in your need. Cleansing and purifying point to the deep work of Christ, who washes us by His word and by His blood. Mourning and weeping over sin do not mean becoming sour and joyless people; they mean taking sin seriously because God is holy. Humbling ourselves means taking the lower place before God and trusting Him to lift us up.

This is why James 4 is such a powerful gospel passage. It shows us our sin plainly. It shows us God’s grace plainly. And it points us to Christ at every turn.

If you are proud, James warns you.

If you are worldly, James confronts you.

If you are divided, James exposes you.

But if you are broken, if you are weary, if you are convicted, if you know your heart is a mess and you need mercy, James gives you hope: “He gives more grace.”

That is the good news.

We cannot draw near to God on our own. We cannot cleanse ourselves on our own. We cannot make ourselves humble by sheer willpower. Christ loved us first. Christ acts first. Christ saves first. And because of Him, we can run back to God. Not because we are strong, but because He is merciful.

So this passage is a warning, yes. But it is also an invitation.

Show people their sin. Then show them Christ.

Tell them their passions are at war within them. Tell them friendship with the world is enmity with God. Tell them that proud hearts cannot stand before a holy God. But then tell them that God gives more grace. Tell them Christ is the answer to the war within. Tell them Christ redeems spiritual adulterers. Tell them Christ resisted Satan. Tell them Christ cleanses sinners. Tell them Christ brings us near. Tell them Christ gives repentance. Tell them Christ saves.

It is Christ. It is Christ. It is the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is no other.

And beloved, we dare not bow the knee to anything besides Him.

James 1 does not waste time with fluff. He gets right down where we live.

He is writing to people who are under pressure. These are not people sitting around in comfort. These are believers who have been scattered, disrupted, and tested. They have had hard days. Real hard days. The kind of days where life does not feel neat and manageable.

And right out of the gate James says something that goes against every natural instinct we have:

Count it all joy when you meet trials of various kinds.

That is not the way the world talks, and if we are honest, it is not usually the way we talk either.

When hardship comes, it is easy to resent it. It is easy to demand relief. It is easy to say, “This isn’t fair. This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening to me.” It is easy to get mad, throw a pity party, blame God, or just sink into that victim mentality that comes so naturally to our flesh.

But James says, receive these trials differently. Not because pain feels good. Not because suffering is pleasant. But because God is doing something through the trial that would not happen any other way.

He says the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. That is the great theme in these verses. Trials are producing something. They are not pointless. They are not empty. They are not just random misery falling out of the sky. God is using them.

That word steadfastness carries the idea of bearing up under a weight. A load has been laid on you, and instead of collapsing, you remain under it. You endure. You hold fast. And as that happens, James says you become mature, complete, lacking in nothing.

Now that is not usually what we want. Most of us would rather be comfortable than mature. We would rather get out from under the weight than let God use the weight to shape us. But James is telling us plainly: let steadfastness do its full work. Let God finish what He is doing.

And then he gives one of the most practical commands in the whole passage: ask for wisdom.

That is what struck me again in this text. When the trial hits, James does not first tell us to ask for escape. He tells us to ask for wisdom.

That goes against the grain too, does it not?

When the pressure comes, I want relief. I want the thing fixed. I want the problem gone. I want the burden moved. James says ask for wisdom. Ask God to show you how to walk through it. Ask God to give you a steady mind, a faithful heart, a clear path, and the grace to respond rightly in the middle of the mess.

And God gives generously. He is not stingy with His people. He does not mock us for asking. He does not roll His eyes in heaven like we ought to already know better. He gives.

A lot of times that wisdom does not come with trumpets blaring. It comes quietly. It comes as that settled sense that this is the way to go. It comes as a Spirit-given steadiness. A calm in the middle of confusion. A right word at the right time. A decision that does not make sense to the world but turns out to be the right one. God gives wisdom, often in ways that are quiet but real.

But James says to ask in faith, without doubting.

Now I do not think he is talking about the weak Christian who is struggling but still looking to Christ. I think he is drawing a contrast. He is showing us the difference between the believer and the double-minded man. The double-minded person wants to live in both worlds. He gives God a nod every now and then, maybe at Christmas, maybe at Easter, maybe when life falls apart and he needs somebody to blame. But there is no settled trust there.

And when the trial comes, that person gets blown all over the place. They blame God. They resent God. They lash out. They talk out of both sides of their mouth. That is what James is calling unstable.

The believer is called to something different.

The believer is called to count it all joy, ask for wisdom, and trust God in the middle of the trial. That is already a foreign way to live. It cuts against the whole grain of this world. When I stub my toe in the middle of the night, my first instinct is not worship. When I hit my thumb with a hammer, I am not naturally inclined to praise the Lord. But James says our response to hardship must be different because we belong to Christ.

Then James starts talking about the lowly brother and the rich man, and at first it can feel like he is chasing a rabbit trail. But he is not. He is still on the same road. He is still talking about trials and what they expose in us.

Trials expose what we trust.

If the first thing I run to is my money, then that is what I trust. If the first thing I run to is my status, my title, my strength, my own ability to fix it, then that is what I trust. If the first thing I do is start calculating how I am going to save myself, then the trial is exposing where my heart really leans.

James says the lowly brother is to boast in his exaltation, and the rich man in his humiliation. Why? Because God has a way of leveling the field. He knows how to bring the proud down and remind them they are grass. He knows how to lift the humble and remind them that their life is hidden with Christ.

The rich man, James says, fades like a flower of the field. He looks strong for a moment. Beautiful for a moment. Impressive for a moment. But then the scorching heat comes, and down he goes.

That is the warning. Anything rooted in pride is temporary. Anything you trust besides God will eventually show itself for how weak it really is.

That is why humility matters so much in this passage. Whether God is bringing you low or cutting you down a little because you are getting too big for your britches, the call is the same: stay humble before Him.

Then James gets to verse 12, and this really is the high point of the whole section:

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life.

That is where all this is going.

The crown of life is not promised to the man who had an easy road. It is promised to the one who remains steadfast under trial. To the one who endures. To the one who keeps trusting Christ when things get hard.

That does not mean endurance earns salvation like a man earning wages. It means endurance reveals real faith. God keeps His people, and His people keep clinging to Christ. They may stumble. They may groan. They may cry. But they do not finally let go because Christ does not let go of them.

And that ought to sober us a little. We should be careful not to get arrogant here. We should not read this and think, “Well, I’m good. I’ve already arrived.” James has no category for that kind of lazy confidence. Trials expose us. Trials refine us. Trials reveal whether our faith is living or whether we are just playing religious games.

Then James shifts into temptation, and that matters because we are good at confusing these things. We are good at taking what God means for sanctification and twisting it into an accusation against Him.

So James says plainly: Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God.”

That is strong and clear. God tests. God refines. God sanctifies. But God does not tempt us to evil.

Where does temptation come from? James says it comes when a person is lured and enticed by his own desire. That is a fishing image. There is the hook. There is the bait. There is the lure dangling in front of you. And the danger is not in the bait by itself. The danger is in what rises up inside you when you see it.

That is why temptation is so serious. It is not just “out there.” It hooks onto something “in here.”

Then desire, when it has conceived, gives birth to sin. And sin, when it is fully grown, brings forth death.

That is the chain.

Temptation. Sin. Death.

And James is warning us not to blame God for what our own flesh is doing. Trials are not what lead us into sin. Our sin leads us into sin. The trial may reveal it. The trial may expose it. But the rot was already in us.

That is a hard truth, but it is a needed truth.

A lot of people want to blame God for the evil around them or the evil that spills out of them. James says no. Do not be deceived. God is not the author of your sin. Your flesh is.

And that means every trial puts something in front of us. In the moment, we are either going to choose life or death. We are either going to seek wisdom, humility, and trust, or we are going to give in to the flesh and let desire drag us somewhere dark.

That is why this passage is so practical. It is not floating around in the clouds somewhere. It is right down here where real people live.

Tomorrow, when something small goes wrong, that choice is there. When the bad news comes, that choice is there. When the irritation hits, that choice is there. When the old temptation comes dangling back through the door, that choice is there.

Sin leads to death. But trials, received rightly, can lead us further into life because they press us toward Christ.

Then James gives one of the sweetest reminders in the whole passage:

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.

That phrase—Father of lights—is rich.

He made the sun, moon, and stars. He rules what He made. He is not unstable. He is not shifting like the shadows. He is not moody. He is not inconsistent. He is not different from one day to the next.

We are. The world is. Creation is.

But not Him.

James is telling us that even in the middle of trial, God remains good. He remains steady. He remains light. He remains the giver of every good and perfect gift.

That is a hard pill to swallow when the trial is hot. Easy to say in a comfortable room. Harder to say when the car breaks down, the money gets tight, the body hurts, the kid is acting foolish, the job turns sour, or the mind is tired. But it is still true. The Father of lights is still good.

And then James lands the plane by reminding us that God brought us forth by the word of truth.

That is who we are.

We are not just people trying to survive hard days. We are people who have been brought forth by God’s word. Called out. Made alive. Claimed by Him. Shaped by truth.

So when the trial comes, we do not respond like the world. We ask for wisdom. We remain humble. We refuse to blame God for our sin. We trust that He is doing good, even when the road is hard.

And in the end, the only reason any of this is possible is Christ.

Christ endured temptation and did not sin. Christ endured hostility from sinners. Christ endured suffering far beyond what you and I have ever endured. Christ glorified the Father in His death. Christ rose again in victory.

That means James is not giving us a bare moral lesson here. He is not just saying, “Try harder.” He is showing us what life looks like when a man or woman belongs to Jesus Christ.

We can endure because He endured. We can stand because His Spirit is at work in us. We can keep going because He has secured the crown of life for those who love Him.

So tomorrow, when the trial hits, count it all joy.

Not because the pain is pleasant. Not because the hardship is small. Not because you enjoy getting smacked around by life.

Count it all joy because God is at work. Ask for wisdom because He gives it. Stay humble because pride fades like grass. Refuse to blame God for what your flesh wants to do. And hold fast to Christ, because He is the only reason any of us will make it to the end.

That is a hard pill to swallow.

But it is a good one.

And the rest of the psalm is no soft prayer.

Psalm 109 is one of those places in Scripture that pushes us into the hard territory of the imprecatory psalms—those prayers where judgment is called down upon the wicked. It is not easy material. It is sharp. It is severe. And if we are honest, it makes us wrestle.

David is not dealing with minor irritation here. He is dealing with people who lie about him, accuse him, hate him, and return evil for love.

“For wicked and deceitful mouths are opened against me, speaking against me with lying tongues. They encircle me with words of hate and attack me without cause. In return for my love they accuse me…”

(Psalm 109:2–4)

That is the setting. This is not David throwing a fit because someone bruised his ego. This is a righteous man under assault.

And that raises the question: How do we pray when we are dealing with people like that?

A forgotten king and a forgotten name

There is a scene in The Emperor’s Club that came to mind as I studied this psalm.

In the movie, the teacher begins with the story of an ancient ruler—a man of power, conquest, and ambition, a man who had his name carved into history. And yet, for all that, he is basically forgotten. He ruled, he conquered, he made noise in his day, but in the end he amounted to very little.

The teacher uses that story to press a lesson into his students: ambition without virtue leaves a hollow legacy. A man may build a name for himself and still leave behind nothing worth remembering.

That fits Psalm 109. One of the prayers in this psalm is that the wicked man’s name would be cut off, that his posterity would be blotted out, that his memory would vanish. That is severe language. But it is language meant to show us something true: sin is never small, and judgment is never random.

The heart of the matter

Psalm 109 is not giving us permission to be petty, vindictive, or bloodthirsty. David is not teaching the people of God to enjoy vengeance. He is doing something else.

He is taking the whole matter to God.

That is the key. David does not seize revenge into his own hands. He pleads with God to act. He places the cause before the Judge of all the earth. The wicked have cast their curses down upon him, and David asks that those curses would come back upon the heads of those who sent them.

That principle runs through Scripture.

Paul says in Galatians 6:7–8:

“Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap.”

Jesus says in Matthew 7:2:

“For in the same way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.”

There is a moral order in God’s world. Men reap what they sow. The measure they use is measured back to them. That is not cruelty. That is justice.

So when David prays, in essence, “Lord, give them a taste of their own medicine,” he is not inventing some dark principle. He is appealing to a truth God has woven into the fabric of His world.

“Let his prayer be counted as sin”

One of the hardest lines in Psalm 109 is verse 7:

“When he is tried, let him come forth guilty; let his prayer be counted as sin.”

That sounds severe because it is severe.

But Scripture does teach that sin can hinder prayer. Proverbs 28:9 says:

“He who turns away his ear from listening to the law, even his prayer is an abomination.”

A man cannot cling to rebellion, use religious words, and expect God to be manipulated by pious language. Prayer is not a magic lever. It is not a slot machine. It is communion with the holy God.

Too many people tip their hat to God but never bow the heart. They may use the language of prayer, but they have never submitted themselves to Christ. And even believers know this truth in part: unrepentant sin poisons prayer. Sin cherished in the heart will always clog the throat of true communion with God.

So how do we pray for such people?

I think we pray that God would bring them to the end of themselves. We pray that He would strip away every false refuge, every comfortable lie, every crutch they lean on, until they have nowhere left to look but up. Not because we delight in their misery, but because we long for their awakening.

When sin spills into the family

Psalm 109 goes even further. David prays that the family of the wicked man would not be blessed:

“May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow… Let there be none to extend kindness to him, nor any to pity his fatherless children.”

(Psalm 109:9, 12)

Again, hard words. Uncomfortable words.

But here is one truth we should not miss: sin never stays neatly contained. It spills. It stains. It reaches into the home.

We have all seen it. A father consumed by addiction. A man given over to adultery. A parent ruined by gambling, rage, selfishness, or neglect. The sin is never “just his.” The children feel it. The wife feels it. The whole house bears the bruises.

As a teacher, I see this all the time. Children dragged through divorce, shuffled from home to home, learning early to live in fractured worlds. Kids carrying burdens they should never have had to carry. That kind of damage is real. Sin throws a long shadow.

So when we pray this part of the psalm, I do not think we should pray with a cruel spirit. But I do think we can pray that God would make the sinner see the damage he is doing. We can pray that the destruction he is bringing upon his own house would become visible to him. We can pray that God would use that realization to awaken him before it is too late.

And for us, there is a warning here too. Fathers, husbands, parents—there is weight on us. God does not put that weight on us to crush us, but to sober us. We are accountable for the way we lead our homes.

Wealth is no shelter

Verse 11 adds another layer:

“May the creditor seize all that he has; may strangers plunder the fruits of his toil.”

In plain terms: do not bless him financially.

That may sound harsh, but it presses another truth upon us: money is no shelter from divine judgment. Wealth is not proof of God’s favor. A man can sit at a loaded table and still be spiritually bankrupt.

Jesus told the story in Luke 12 of the rich fool who built bigger barns, only to hear God say, “This night your soul is required of you.” All his possessions turned out to be a false refuge.

And many people live just like that. They lean on money, titles, accounts, status, and possessions as if those things can hold up the weight of a human soul.

They cannot.

So we pray that God would break those idols. We pray that their money would fail them if money is what they worship. We pray that their titles would fail them if titles are what they trust. We pray that the props beneath their lives would collapse if those props are what keep them from Christ.

As someone once said, better a modest table with a clean conscience than a mansion built on fraud.

That is exactly right.

What kind of legacy remains?

The final part of this section is perhaps the hardest of all:

“May his posterity be cut off; may his name be blotted out in the second generation.”

(Psalm 109:13)

David is praying that the wicked man’s line and memory would be erased.

That is a terrifying thought. But it does fit the logic of Scripture. It is not the self-made man who is approved, but the man whom the Lord commends.

Paul says in 2 Corinthians 10:18:

“For it is not he who commends himself that is approved, but he whom the Lord commends.”

At funerals I have often said that it is not the dates on the stone that matter most. It is the dash between them. What kind of life was lived? What kind of legacy was left? Not in the sentimental, worldly sense of “make a name for yourself,” but in the spiritual sense of whether a life pointed toward righteousness or ruin.

And this is where The Emperor’s Club comes back around.

At the end of the film, the same student who cheated as a boy gets another chance as an adult. And again, he cheats. The teacher sees it. The man is later exposed for what he really is. In the final turn, that man’s young son overhears his father speak with contempt and venom, tearing down the very idea of virtue. The child’s face says everything. In one moment, the father’s true heart is exposed.

That is the tragedy.

It is one thing for a man to ruin himself. It is another thing for him to hand that ruin down.

That is why Psalm 109 hits so hard. The psalm is not merely about private punishment. It is about the real spread of evil into names, homes, memory, and generations.

So how do we pray?

That was the great question in front of us: How do Christians pray a psalm like this on this side of the cross?

We do not pray it with a lust for revenge. We do not ask God to damn people out of spite. We do not use hard texts to baptize personal bitterness.

But neither do we flatten the psalm into something sentimental.

I believe we pray like this:

• We pray that the evil a person is sowing would come back upon him in such a way that he sees it.

• We pray that the lies, accusations, and curses he sends out would be turned back upon him until he feels the sting of what he has done.

• We pray that his false refuges would fail him.

• We pray that the damage he is doing would become plain in his own sight.

• We pray that God would bring him low enough to cry out for mercy.

• We pray that he would see Christ before judgment comes.

That is where I land.

I know there are hard theological questions here. I know the mysteries of election, judgment, mercy, and prayer are not small matters. I do not pretend to tie them all up in a neat little bow. There are parts of this that remain above my pay grade.

But for me, here and now, while there is breath in a man’s lungs and time left on the clock, I want to pray that God would break sinners before final judgment breaks upon them forever.

Because while God will indeed be glorified in His justice, my prayer today is still that wicked men would repent, that accusers would be humbled, that liars would be exposed, that rebels would be stripped of their illusions, and that they would come to Christ.

Today is still the day of salvation.

Final prayer

Father, help us in our prayers. Teach us how to pray for wicked people, for those who lie, accuse, hate, and do evil. Teach us to pray boldly, not vindictively. Strip sinners of every false refuge so that they would recognize their need for a Savior before judgment comes. Open darkened hearts. Open blind eyes. Bring men and women to see that they have offended a holy God and deserve judgment, yet mercy is still offered in Christ. Teach us to trust Your justice and to plead for Your mercy. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Have you ever looked at a situation and thought, That is just not right? Have you ever watched somebody do something clearly wrong, blatantly wrong, and instead of consequences, they seem to prosper and get ahead? Have you ever wondered, How long is this going to keep on going? Have you ever felt the pressure of trying to live right while others seem to prosper even in their wickedness? And if we are honest, have you ever been tempted to think, Does God actually see what is happening here? Does He know what is going on?

That is exactly where Psalm 94 begins.

Not with a calm reflection. Not with a polished answer. But with a cry: “O Lord, God of vengeance… how long?” The psalmist is not pretending. He is not cleaning it up. He is crying out from the middle of a world where evil feels unchecked, justice feels delayed, and faith feels strained.

We do not know the human author of this psalm. There is no note attached to it telling us who wrote it. It likely comes from a time when God’s people were living under pressure, maybe even during the exile, when the children of Israel had been removed from their land and were living among foreign peoples. That fits the tone of the psalm. It reads like a cry for help. A plea for God to come and stand against the terrible people they are living among.

And I would just say again, we need to be careful about too quickly calling America “God’s people” or treating America like some kind of promised land. The church is God’s people. Believers from every nation, every language, every tribe, every people. That is who belongs to Him. And wherever the church lives, it lives among people who do not follow Christ. Some may nod toward Him. Some may tip their hat at Him on Easter and Christmas. But we live in a world that is dangerous, and in many ways unclean, because it is full of people who do not bow to Jesus Christ.

That is the conflict of Psalm 94. The wicked are not quiet about their evil. They are arrogant. They boast. They crush God’s people. They afflict His heritage. They kill the widow, the sojourner, and the fatherless. And then they say, “The Lord does not see. The God of Jacob does not perceive.”

That is really the heart of the problem. Not just wicked behavior, but wicked confidence. Not just sin, but the settled belief that God does not notice, God does not care, or God is too absent to do anything about it.

Meanwhile, the righteous are weary. The righteous are the ones asking, “How long, O Lord?” The wicked feel too confident, and the righteous feel worn down. And if we are honest, we know that feeling. We know what it is to look out at this world and think, How long do we have to put up with this?

So the point I want to press this morning is simple: Because God is the righteous Judge, His people must rely on Him as their refuge while they wait for justice.

First, God sees clearly.

That is what verses 8 through 11 are pressing home. The wicked say God does not see. The psalmist answers that foolishness with very plain logic. “He who planted the ear, does He not hear? He who formed the eye, does He not see?” It is almost so simple that it stings. If God created the eye, then He certainly sees. If He made the ear, then He certainly hears. He is not lacking the very abilities He Himself designed.

And the psalmist goes even farther. He says, “The Lord knows the thoughts of man, that they are but a breath.” God does not just see outward action. He sees motive. He sees intention. He sees what the wicked think is hidden, and He knows what they think is justified.

That is a comfort to us, even if it is a terrifying truth to the wicked. Nothing gets past Him. Nothing slips outside His frame of reference. We may look at something and say, “Does anybody know what really happened there?” God knows. We may look at some unsolved evil in this world and think nobody will ever uncover it. God already has. He saw it when it happened. He was present to it in a way no human investigator ever could be.

It makes me think of Hagar in Genesis 16. Cast out, mistreated, overlooked, sitting in the wilderness with her child. And there she names the Lord El Roi—the God who sees me. Everybody else may have pushed her aside. But God had not lost sight of her for one second.

That is the truth here. God sees. So we need to stop thinking as if God misses things. Hidden sin is not hidden. Injustice is not unnoticed. The wicked are not getting away with anything. They are only living on borrowed time.

Second, God works presently.

This is where the psalm takes a turn that surprises us. “Blessed is the man whom You discipline, O Lord, and whom You teach out of Your law, to give him rest from days of trouble.” That is not usually where we would go in a psalm about injustice. We would expect him to say, “Blessed is the man who gets delivered right now.” But instead he says, “Blessed is the man whom God disciplines.”

Why? Because while God delays judgment on the wicked, He is not inactive. He is actively strengthening, teaching, and stabilizing His people. He is forming them in the middle of the pressure. He is teaching them out of His law. He is giving them rest even before the trouble is over.

That is one of the great tensions of the Christian life. We are still learning, still maturing, still being corrected by the Word of God, and at the same time God is giving us rest. Sometimes we do not see that because we get so focused on the tree that we miss the whole forest. But this is why we gather. This is why we open the Bible. This is why we listen to good preaching, sing truth, meditate on Scripture, and take in the Word of God. Because God uses His truth to train us, steady us, and give our burdened souls rest while we wait.

Then the psalmist makes it deeply personal. “Unless the Lord had been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence. When I thought, ‘My foot slips,’ Your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, Your consolations cheer my soul.”

That is not theory. That is experience. That is not abstract doctrine floating in the air. That is a man saying, “I know what it is to feel myself slipping, and I know what it is for God to hold me up.”

Joseph is a good picture of this. Sold by his brothers. Lied about. Forgotten. Left for years in affliction. Yet later he can say, “What you meant for evil against me, God meant for good.” Same event. Two intentions. Human wickedness was real, but divine sovereignty was greater. God was not absent in Joseph’s suffering. He was active in it.

And that is a word some of us need badly. Do not confuse delay with absence. Just because God has not acted the way you want Him to act yet does not mean He is not acting. He is. He is holding you up. He is shaping you. He is teaching you. He is giving you rest in the very middle of the trouble.

Third, God will judge finally.

The psalm begins with “O Lord, God of vengeance,” and it ends with the certainty that “He will bring back on them their iniquity and wipe them out for their wickedness; the Lord our God will wipe them out.” That is not accidental. The whole psalm is wrapped in the certainty of divine justice.

And this includes more than just bad individuals. It includes corrupt systems. “Can wicked rulers be allied with You, those who frame injustice by statute?” That is strong language. It is talking about authority structures that give legal cover to evil. It is talking about injustice organized, approved, and enforced. They band together against the life of the righteous and condemn the innocent to death.

If that does not sound familiar, then we are not paying attention.

But the point of the psalm is not to make us panic. It is to make us steady. God’s justice is certain. Every act of wickedness will be repaid. No evil gets the last word.

Think of Pharaoh’s army in Exodus 14. For a moment it looked like God’s people were trapped and Egypt was unstoppable. Then the sea closed. What looked delayed was not denied. It was simply perfect timing.

And then, above all, think of the cross. At the cross, Christ took on the punishment of His people. The wrath we deserved was laid upon Him. What looked to the world like just another execution, just another preacher crushed by Rome, was actually the Son of God making atonement for sinners. Justice was not ignored there. Justice was satisfied there. The cross is where we see both the seriousness of sin and the mercy of God most clearly. God is so just that sin must be punished, and so merciful that He gave His own Son to bear that punishment for His people.

That means we are never the judge. We are never the avenger. We are not the ones who settle accounts. Vengeance belongs to God. The psalmist begins there, and Paul says the same thing later: “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”

So we must refuse some lies.

One lie is that God does not see. He does.

Another lie is that if justice is delayed, then justice has failed. It has not. God’s timing is not ours. A thousand years to Him is as a day. He is not slow. He is patient. Today is still the day of salvation. That is mercy, not weakness.

Another lie is that if we are suffering, God must be against us. But the psalm says the disciplined man is blessed. God is not crushing His people. He is correcting, teaching, and comforting them. Hebrews says to fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. He is not trying to destroy His children. He is forming them.

And one more lie is that we can take justice into our own hands. We feel that temptation all the time. Somebody wrongs us and something rises up inside us. We want to answer wrong with wrong. We want to get even. We want to clip the bumper, cut them off, say the cutting word, make them pay. But that temptation is poison. Vengeance is the Lord’s. It is too heavy for you, and frankly, you would not carry it righteously anyway.

So where does that leave us?

Right where verse 22 leaves us: “But the Lord has become my stronghold, and my God the rock of my refuge.”

That is where the believer lives. In the Rock. In the refuge. In the safety and security of God Himself.

The wicked are not as secure as they think. And the righteous are not as abandoned as they feel.

God sees clearly. God works presently. God judges finally.

So when the world feels unjust, when evil looks loud, when faith feels strained, when your foot feels like it is slipping, you do not seize control. You rely on Him. You run to the Rock. You trust the Judge.

And for those outside of Christ, that same Rock is either refuge or ruin. That is why we plead with people. That is why we preach. That is why we pray. Because the only plea any sinner has before a holy God is not church attendance, not morality, not religious language, but Christ. Christ alone.

So let us trust Him. Let us rest in Him. Let us rely on Him as our refuge while we wait for justice.

Closing Prayer

God, thank You for this time and thank You for Your Word.

Help us trust You more and more with our lives. Teach us to see You as the rock of our refuge. Remind us that You are the God who sees, the God who knows, and the God who will judge rightly.

And Lord, we pray for those outside of the kingdom. Break through hard hearts. Break through false confidence. Show sinners their need for Christ. Give us courage to speak at the right moment, with the right words, and with love and clarity.

Help us as Your people to trust You, to look to You, to love You, and to serve You. Give us confidence that nothing gets past You. Comfort us, protect us, and steady us, even when You are disciplining us.

We ask all this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Sometimes our prayers can be really nice. And I think there’s a point where we can be honest with God. Just like David: Lord, are You listening? Are You hearing me?

That’s one thing the Psalms keep showing us. They remind us that God gives us language not only for praise, but also for pain, frustration, and even outrage. And when you come to the imprecatory psalms, you really see that. These psalms are stunning. David prays some things that make you stop and ask, Can we really pray that way?

Psalm 58 is one of those psalms.

It is not a gentle little devotional. It is a prayer against unjust rulers—against those who are in positions of authority and yet refuse to judge rightly. It is about wicked rulers making unjust rulings. And God’s people are shown here that we can respond by praying for their failure in leadership while still trusting God to judge rightly.

That’s the tension of the psalm. We are permitted to name evil honestly, but we are never permitted to become what we condemn.

The Psalm

Psalm 58 opens with a direct challenge:

“Do you indeed decree what is right, you gods?

Do you judge the children of man uprightly?”

And the answer is obvious: no.

These rulers are not speaking righteousness. They are not seeking justice. They are doing the exact opposite.

David says:

“No, in your hearts you devise wrongs;

your hands deal out violence on earth.”

That is the bottom line of this psalm. These are wicked rulers making unjust rulings. These are people in authority who should be protecting others, but instead they are harming them.

And if we’re honest, we know exactly what that feels like.

Some of us know what it is to be on the receiving end of unfair accusations. Some know what it is to have administrators mismanage their leadership. Some have been belittled or condescended to by people in authority. Some have waited for justice and watched it get delayed. Some have just had to live under plain old injustice.

That is where Psalm 58 hits home.

The Indictment of Unjust Leaders

The first five verses read like an indictment. David is laying out the charge against unjust leaders.

In verses 1 and 2, the rulers are supposed to be judging fairly. They are supposed to be speaking righteousness. But instead, they are dealing out violence. The picture is courtroom language. A judge is sitting there, listening to both sides, and yet something other than righteousness is guiding his judgment.

David’s conclusion is plain: they are wicked.

And then the imagery gets stronger in verses 3 through 5. He says the wicked are estranged from the womb. They go astray from birth, speaking lies. He compares them to a serpent, to a deaf adder that stops its ears and will not listen to the voice of the charmer.

It is strong language, but it makes the point. These leaders are dangerous, poisonous, and stubborn. They will not listen. They will not be corrected. They will not be guided back to righteousness.

And the thing we have to understand is this: when leaders abandon God’s standard of justice, their authority becomes danger rather than protection.

That is what happens when sin gets hold of power.

The Deeper Problem: The Human Heart

And this is where the psalm goes deeper than politics or courtrooms. The real issue is not just bad rulings. The issue is the human heart.

Scripture says this over and over.

Exodus 23 says we are not to pervert justice.

Deuteronomy 16 says judges must judge righteously.

Leviticus 19 says there must be no injustice in court.

But then Scripture also says something about us.

Psalm 51 tells us that we are sinful from birth.

Psalm 14 says none of us do good.

Romans 3 repeats those same ideas and reminds us that all have gone astray.

Ecclesiastes 9 says our hearts are full of evil.

And Jesus says it is not what goes into a man that defiles him, but what comes out of him—what comes out of the heart.

Beloved, I know it’s a drum I beat, but I can’t get past it: we sin.

You watch the nightly news. You see war, murder, slander, corruption, pride, greed, lust, injustice. Why? Because we are sinful. That’s the answer. It really is that simple.

And that sin fleshes itself out in certain ways—power, greed, pride, corruption, injustice. That is exactly what is happening in Psalm 58.

A Modern Example of Unjust Rule

There’s a movie from several years ago called Just Mercy. It’s based on the book by Bryan Stevenson. I read it with my seniors, and it’s worth your time.

Stevenson began working with a nonprofit law firm that served men and women on death row. And as they dug deeper into these cases, they discovered that some of these people were innocent. They were able to overturn several death row sentences because the truth finally came out.

One of the earliest cases involved a man in Alabama who was accused of killing a woman. False witnesses were pushed forward. A fake story was built. A key witness was threatened. The town was angry and wanted someone to pay, and this man became the scapegoat.

You read that story—or watch that movie—and you think, My goodness, this happened in America. Not ancient history. Not some far-off land. Here.

That is Psalm 58 in modern clothes.

Leaders entrusted with justice can become agents of injustice. Courts can become weapons. Authority can become harmful rather than protective.

That’s why this psalm matters.

Why We Must Speak Up

So why should Christians speak up when we see injustice?

Because it is right. Because truth matters. Because if we were the one being slandered, accused, or mistreated, we would want someone to say something.

And yet, at the same time, remembering our own sin keeps us from becoming self-righteous. None of us are exempt from the possibility of unjust behavior. Maybe not on the same scale, but we have all been unfair at some point. We have all misjudged. We have all acted wrongly.

That should humble us.

So yes, we speak up. Yes, we expose evil. But we do it without bitterness swallowing us whole.

And that leads into the second half of the psalm.

The Imprecation: A Prayer for God to Act

Verses 6 through 9 are where Psalm 58 really becomes an imprecatory psalm.

David prays:

“O God, break the teeth in their mouths.”

That is jarring language. But he is not praying for personal revenge. He is praying that these wicked rulers would be made ineffective.

Take away their bite. Remove their fangs. Neutralize the threat.

He goes on to pray that they would flow away like water, that their arrows would be blunted, that they would be like a snail that dissolves, like something ineffective, unable to do harm.

The imagery is graphic on purpose. It is meant to make you pause. It is meant to make you feel the seriousness of evil in power.

If you’ve ever been bit by a dog, you know it’s better to be bit by a dog with no teeth than a dog with teeth. That’s the picture. David is asking God to remove the power of wicked leaders to do damage.

And beloved, when earthly justice fails—and it does fail—there is still an appeal we can make to the heavenly court.

We can pray.

Prayer Is Not Passive

Now that might sound too simple to some people. Pray? Really? Just pray?

But if we think that way, then we have a much bigger problem. Because when we pray, God hears. When we pray, God acts. Prayer is not passive. It is not meaningless. It is one of the chief tools given to the people of God.

Scripture keeps saying this.

Psalm 3 says God breaks the teeth of the wicked.

Psalm 37 says the wicked fade like grass.

Job 20 says the wicked may prosper, but only briefly.

Genesis says the Judge of all the earth will do right.

Psalm 96 says God comes to judge the earth.

Psalm 9 says He judges the world with righteousness.

So when we pray against corruption, against injustice, against wicked leadership, we are not stepping outside biblical faith. We are actually standing right in the middle of it.

We are asking God to stop what is evil. We are asking Him to expose it, blunt it, dry it up, and bring it to nothing.

And on the positive side, we are also praying that God would raise up righteous people—leaders who love truth, who know justice, who fear God, who act with mercy.

That is a faithful way to pray.

What It Means to Hand Judgment Over to God

But we have to be clear here. Handing judgment over to God means we do not take vengeance into our own hands.

That is not our calling.

We are never called to become judge, jury, and executioner. We are never called to take up arms just because somebody lied about us or ruled unfairly. That is not the way of Christ.

God and God alone has that prerogative.

He is the one who sees every motive. He is the one who gives life and takes life. He is the one who causes the sun to rise and the rain to fall on the righteous and the unrighteous alike. He is the one who judges with absolute purity.

So we leave vengeance to Him.

That does not mean we do nothing in the face of wrongdoing. We do have systems in this world. There are lawful means of appeal. There are ways to confront slander and false accusation. But as believers, we do not become vindictive. We do not become consumed with getting even.

We trust God.

And yes, that is hard. Because everything in us wants revenge. We want to strike back. We want to fix it ourselves. We want to help God out, as if He were too busy and needed our assistance.

But obedience means restraint. It means trust. It means leaving room for the God who judges righteously.

Rejoicing in God’s Justice

Verse 10 says something that can sound shocking at first:

“The righteous will rejoice when he sees the vengeance.”

There is nothing wrong with rejoicing when God deals justly with evil. That is not cruelty. That is not dancing on somebody’s grave. That is recognizing that righteousness has prevailed.

The imagery of washing one’s feet in the blood of the wicked is victory language. It means God has triumphed. It means His people have been vindicated. It means evil did not get the last word.

Now that does not guarantee you will see that victory fully in this life. There are martyrs in heaven still crying out, “How long, O Lord?” So no, Psalm 58 does not promise immediate visible justice every time.

But it does promise that justice belongs to God, and He will not fail to do what is right.

That is where trust comes back in again.

The Final Word of the Psalm

And then we come to verse 11:

“Surely there is a reward for the righteous;

surely there is a God who judges the earth.”

That is where the psalm lands. That is the anchor.

Why is it important that we believe God will ultimately judge evil?

Because if people stop believing that, society collapses into chaos. If there is no final judgment, no moral reckoning, no Judge over all the earth, then mayhem is the only logical end.

But Scripture says otherwise.

There is a God who judges the earth.

There is a reward for the righteous.

Maybe we only get glimpses of that reward in this life. Maybe we only feel traces of it here and there. But one day, on the other side, with Christ and all His saints, we will know fully what it means.

So in a world full of twisted justice—judges, rulers, leaders, presidents, mayors, administrators, and even our own hearts—we expose evil, we pray for God’s intervention, and we trust Him to do what is right.

Even when it hurts.

Even when justice is delayed.

Even when we don’t understand.

We trust Him.

Father, I pray that You would turn our hearts to You, O Lord. God, cause us to trust in the Judge of all the earth.

When anger—unrighteous anger—wells up inside of us, O God, when thoughts of revenge and retribution haunt us, Lord, I ask You in that moment to sweep in. Remind us that we are not called to do that. You are the consuming fire. You are the Judge who judges righteously.

And Lord, we need greater trust. We need greater faith, because there are going to be days where it hurts and it is painful. We are not going to like it. We are going to yell at the sky. We are going to ask questions why. We are not going to understand it. And in those moments, O God, let us trust in You.

Father, You are a good God. And Your Son, our Savior, has redeemed us. We deserve justice, O God, but You are giving us mercy. We deserve judgment and damnation, but You are giving us grace. God, You are adopting us into Your family. You are perfecting us. You are teaching us to trust You. You are teaching us to walk in greater faith. And we thank You for that, Father. We praise You for Your abundant love.

And God, when we come across injustice in this world, let us be mindful that we are to pray. We are called to expose, but never in a vindictive way. We expose sinfulness and evil in the hope, and in the attempt, that truth will be told, that hearts will be changed. And if that does not happen, O God, then we come to You, the Judge and the executioner, and we pray for You, O God, to tear out the teeth and to dry them up like a snail, if necessary.

Thank You, Lord, for this Psalm today. I pray, God, that You protect us each as we go out of this building to day. Keep us safe. Let us walk with You. Let us point people to You. Let us seek always to worship You, whether we are waking or laying down to rest, O God.

In Christ’s name I pray, amen.

Psalm 73 speaks right into the kind of world we live in—a world where we constantly see other people prospering in every way, in every situation. It seems like there are certain people in this world who lack for nothing. And what happens to us? We look at what they have, and we wish we had it.

That little story shared last week about looking at the person in front of you and wishing you had what they had—that preaches this morning, because that is basically what Psalm 73 tells us. We have this tendency to look at whatever is going on in the world and want it for ourselves.

But what we do not always realize as believers is this: all we really have is God. And all we really need is God.

I want to begin at the end of the psalm, because that is where the whole thing lands. Psalm 73:25–28 says:

“Whom have I in heaven but Thee?

And besides Thee, I desire nothing on earth.

My flesh and my heart may fail,

But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

For behold, those who are far from Thee will perish;

Thou hast destroyed all those who are unfaithful to Thee.

But as for me, the nearness of God is my good;

I have made the Lord God my refuge,

That I may tell of all Thy works.”

This psalm speaks to the fact that we are envious people. We look at what the world has, we look at what other people have, and we want that. We see the prosperity of the wicked, and it looks like they do nothing but flourish. And that is frustrating, because we believe we are trying to do the right thing. We believe that faithfulness ought to be rewarded. We believe that surely righteousness should lead to some kind of visible blessing.

And the Bible is not silent about this. It speaks to it often.

Job asked, “Why do the wicked live, reach old age, and grow mighty in power?” Jeremiah said, “Why does the way of the wicked prosper?” Ecclesiastes says there are righteous people who receive what the wicked deserve, and wicked people who receive what the righteous deserve.

Every time we turn around, it feels like in some way we are being treated unfairly by this world. We are all struggling in some form or fashion, and we try to figure out why we are not getting a fair shake. Why do rich unbelievers live in luxury while there are believers who love God, serve Him with all their heart, and yet are starving and suffering?

And yet, the end of this psalm reminds me where the true answer lies: “As for me, the nearness of God is my good.”

That is what I want us to get this morning. Every one of us can find strength in God by believing there is nothing in this world besides Him that we truly need. God is it. He is the only thing we cannot lose. In Christ, we have what matters most. Besides Him, this world offers us nothing that lasts.

Yes, we work in this world. We subdue it as God has told us to. We multiply, have children, work through the seasons, play, worship, build, and labor. But what we cannot do is become envious of this world. This world holds nothing for us that can compare to God.

So let us look at the psalm.

1. The Envy of the Heart — Psalm 73:1–14

The psalm opens:

“Surely God is good to Israel,

To those who are pure in heart.

But as for me, my feet came close to stumbling,

My steps had almost slipped.

For I was envious of the arrogant,

As I saw the prosperity of the wicked…”

There is a lot of imagery in those first verses. The wicked seem fat and healthy and untroubled. Pride is their necklace. Violence covers them like a garment. Their eyes bulge from fatness. Their hearts run wild. They mock. They oppress. They speak against heaven itself.

The imagery is strong, even hyperbolic. But we understand the point. And I think the most important part is right there in verses 1 and 2. “Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. But as for me, my feet came close to stumbling.”

God is good to those who are pure in heart.

That phrase ought to ring a bell, because Jesus picks it up in the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” There is a beautiful connection there between the psalmist and Jesus.

And yet, even knowing that God is good to those who are pure in heart, the psalmist says, “My feet had almost slipped.” Why? Because envy distorts spiritual vision.

Then verses 10–14 show how deep the struggle goes:

“They say, ‘How does God know?

And is there knowledge with the Most High?’

Behold, these are the wicked;

And always at ease, they have increased in wealth.

Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure…”

That is the temptation. The wicked appear carefree. They appear wealthy. Everything looks good for them. And when we measure life by comfort, wealth, and status, envy creeps in. That is what the psalmist is doing in verse 13. He is measuring himself by what he sees the wicked gaining.

He looks at their arrogance, their wealth, their ease, and he says, “Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure.” In other words: “Why have I tried to live right? Why have I tried to serve God? Why have I tried to be faithful if they seem to be getting so much more?”

Cain and Abel come to mind here. Cain saw that Abel’s offering was accepted, and instead of examining his own heart, he grew angry. Envy became bitterness. Bitterness became violence. And God warned him: “Sin is crouching at the door; its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it.”

That has not changed one bit. Sin is still crouching at the door. And envy is one of the ways it gets in. It turns into bitterness. It turns into frustration. It turns into anger. In Cain’s case, it turned into murder. All of us have that root in us at some level. Envy is the seed.

That is why Jesus tells us in Matthew 6 to store up treasures in heaven. We need to put a fence around our hearts on this issue. Because when we begin comparing ourselves to others, that is when trust in God starts to erode. Gratitude drains out from under us. We begin to ask, “Does God really know? Does God really see? Does God really care?”

2. The Turning Point — Psalm 73:15–20

Then we come to a major turning point in the psalm.

“If I had said, ‘I will speak thus,’

Behold, I would have betrayed the generation of Thy children.

When I pondered to understand this,

It was troublesome in my sight,

Until I came into the sanctuary of God;

Then I discerned their end.”

The psalmist is honest. He says, “If I had spoken like that—if I had given voice to all of this envy and unbelief—I would have betrayed the generation of God’s children.” He knows the temptation is real. He sees what the world has, and he feels the pull. He knows that if he gives himself over to that way of thinking, he will betray God’s people and lose trust in God entirely.

Then comes verse 17: “Until I came into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end.”

That verse is a major turning point. His circumstances did not change.

His perspective changed.

Why? Because in the sanctuary of God, he saw things through God’s eyes.

That is why we need brothers and sisters in Christ. That is why we need the church. That is why we need sound biblical teaching. This building is not sacred because it is made of special materials. It is just a building. But when the people of God gather in worship, fellowship, and sit under the Word, our perspective changes. We begin to see reality the way God sees it.

Jesus gives similar imagery in Matthew 6. He says if your eye is dark, your whole body is dark. But if your eye is full of light, your whole body is full of light. It is all about perspective.

And what does the psalmist finally see?

“Surely Thou dost set them in slippery places;

Thou dost cast them down to destruction.

How they are destroyed in a moment!

They are utterly swept away by sudden terrors…”

There is almost a play on words here. In verse 2, he said, “My feet had almost slipped.” But now he realizes that it is actually the wicked who stand in slippery places.

They look stable. They look secure. They look untouchable. But they are not. Their end is destruction.

Think of Jesus’ parable in Luke 12. The rich man looked at all his wealth and decided he needed bigger barns. He thought he had security. He thought he had a future. But God said to him, “You fool. This very night your soul is required of you.”

He stood in a slippery place and did not know it.

Jesus also says in Matthew 7 that the way to life is a narrow gate, but the way to destruction is broad. There is plenty of room on the broad road. Plenty of space. Plenty of ways to travel it. But it still leads to destruction.

And so the question is not, “How successful does someone look today?” The question is, “Where will they stand before God?”

Will I stand before Him as one redeemed by Christ, praising Him for His mercy? Or will I kneel before Him in forced submission as one who rejected Him? Scripture says every knee will bow. Some will bow in worship. Others will bow as conquered enemies before judgment.

We ought to be deeply grateful for salvation. We did not earn it. We do not deserve it. There is nothing in us that can boast. Christ alone is our hope.

3. The Resolution — Psalm 73:21–28

aww

Then the psalm turns inward again, and it gets very personal:

“When my heart was embittered

And I was pierced within,

Then I was senseless and ignorant;

I was like a beast before Thee.”

That is strong language, but it is true. Envy blinds us to God’s goodness. It reduces us to instinct. It makes us think like animals—survival, grasping, taking, comparing, consuming.

The world outside of Christ functions that way. And when believers drift into envy, bitterness, and worldly thinking, we begin to act the same way. We become senseless and ignorant. Like beasts before God.

But then comes one of the sweetest words in the psalm: “Nevertheless.”

“Nevertheless I am continually with Thee;

Thou hast taken hold of my right hand.

With Thy counsel Thou wilt guide me,

And afterward receive me to glory.”

That is the grace of God. We lose perspective, but He does not lose hold of us. We drift, but He remains steady. We take our eyes off Him, but He still takes hold of our right hand.

That does not mean we should be careless. We must make every effort to stay close to God—stay in the Word, stay in prayer, stay in fellowship, stay under the teaching of Scripture. Because the moment we take our eyes off Him, we are vulnerable to slipping right back into that old trap.

But praise God: He is faithful even when we are weak.

Then comes the crescendo of the psalm, the great confession:

“Whom have I in heaven but Thee?

And besides Thee, I desire nothing on earth.”

That is the heart of the matter.

There is nothing on this earth we should desire above God.

Think of Mary and Martha. Martha was busy with serving, cleaning, preparing, making sure everything was right. But Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, listening. And Jesus said, “Mary has chosen the good portion.”

That is what Psalm 73 is saying. God Himself is the good portion. The nearness of God is our good.

Then verse 26 says:

“My flesh and my heart may fail,

But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Yes, our flesh will fail. Our hearts will fail. Our health fades. Every day something new hurts. Our wealth fades. Our reputation means very little to this world. The world does not care about you, and it certainly does not care about Christ.

But God is the strength of our heart and our portion forever.

The psalm closes:

“For behold, those who are far from Thee will perish…

But as for me, the nearness of God is my good;

I have made the Lord God my refuge,

That I may tell of all Thy works.”

As we grow in our relationship with God, it becomes natural to want to speak of Him. Not from obligation, but from love. We want to tell of His works because He is good. Not merely because He has done good things for us—though He has—but because He is good in Himself.

That is what testimony really is. We speak of Him because our hearts have come to love Him.

And that brings us back to Christ.

We do not worship God to get things. We do not worship Him because we think He will make us healthy and wealthy. We do not worship Him because we think He will make this life easy. We worship because in Christ we have everything. Christ is our portion. Christ is the strength of our heart. Christ is our refuge.

So let us say it plainly:

Whom have we in heaven but God? Besides Him, we desire nothing on earth.

Yes, all of us are susceptible to envy. Every one of us sees things in this world and thinks, “Man, I wish I had that. I wish I could do that. I wish I owned that. I wish I could go there.” That temptation is constant. It is easy to get bitter. Easy to get angry. Easy to get frustrated.

But at the end of the day, whom have we in heaven but God and His Son, Jesus Christ? Besides Christ, we desire nothing on earth.

Our flesh and our heart will fail. But Christ is the strength of our heart and our portion forever.

Those who are far from Christ will perish. But as for us, the nearness of God is our good. Christ is our refuge. He is where we run. There is nothing else.

So do not lose perspective.

Guard yourself from drifting. A boat that is not rowing is drifting. A soul that is not pressing into Christ is drifting. The current is against us, and this world is always pulling. But God is faithful.

So may God protect us from slipping. May He bring us back when our eyes wander. May He teach us again and again that it is not we who stand on solid ground because of our own strength—but because He has taken hold of our right hand.

And may He bring us back to the simple, glorious truth of Psalm 73:

The nearness of God is my good.

Another one of our imprecatory psalms.

It’s not the harshest one yet — we haven’t gotten to the real fire — but it’s strong. And I’m grateful for these psalms. I really am.

Because they give me a voice.

A lot of people in our world feel like they don’t have one. But when I read these psalms — even the ones that seem to pray down hell — I’m reminded that I do have a voice before God.

That’s the key.

As believers, we have no reason to be vindictive, revengeful, retaliatory. Everything in us may want to strike back when we’re wronged. But Scripture teaches us something radically different:

Our only outlet is prayer.

We are not called to fight back.

We are not called to slander.

We are not called to strike.

We are called to get on our knees and pray.

That’s it.

Betrayal Is Personal

Psalm 55 hits something deep.

David writes:

“It is not an enemy who taunts me…

But it is you, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend.” (vv. 12–13)

That hurts.

If an enemy attacks you, you brace for it. You expect it. You can handle that.

But a friend?

A co-laborer?

Someone who walked into worship with you?

That’s different.

David is most likely referring to Ahithophel — one of his closest counselors — who joined Absalom’s rebellion (2 Samuel 15–17). This wasn’t just political betrayal. It was relational betrayal.

And we know something about that.

Somewhere along the way, somebody has betrayed you.

Maybe it was subtle.

Maybe it was public.

Maybe it was humiliating.

For me, years ago, I was publicly dressed down by a curriculum director and watched a principal I trusted take her side. It felt like the ground dropped out beneath me. I remember storming the parking lot, furious and hurt, thinking, I am done with these people.

It may not sound huge to some of you. But betrayal is relative. When someone you trust shifts against you — it scars.

And those scars? They can turn into bitterness if you’re not careful.

The Breaking Point

Look at David’s emotional honesty:

“My heart is in anguish within me…

Fear and trembling come upon me…

Horror overwhelms me.” (vv. 4–5)

This is the anointed king of Israel unraveling.

He even says:

“Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.” (v. 6)

He wants to run.

He wants out.

And if we’re honest — so do we.

When betrayal hits, we feel:

• Fear

• Anger

• Trembling

• Escape fantasies

We think: I’m done. I’m walking away. I don’t need this.

But here’s the difference.

David does not explode outward.

He explodes upward.

“Give ear to my prayer, O God…” (v. 1)

He laments before he imprecates.

He pours out fear before he prays judgment.

And that matters.

Pray — Don’t Strike

Then comes the hard part.

David prays:

“Destroy, O Lord…

Divide their tongues…

Let death steal over them…” (vv. 9, 15)

That makes modern Christians uncomfortable.

But notice what he does not do.

He does not stage a counter-coup.

He does not assassinate.

He does not slander.

He prays.

There is a world of difference between praying for justice and executing vengeance.

We are not called to take revenge.

We are called to entrust justice to God.

That’s the lesson of the imprecatory psalms.

You pray justice.

You do not perform it.

The Only Weapon We Have

Verse 16:

“But I call to God, and the Lord will save me.”

And again:

“Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint.”

Prayer is not occasional for David. It is constant.

We breathe in the Word of God.

We breathe out prayer to God.

That is our weapon.

Not Facebook.

Not retaliation.

Not cold silence.

Not revenge.

Prayer.

Cast the Burden

The psalm ends with one of the most beautiful commands in Scripture:

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you.” (v. 22)

Peter echoes it later:

“Casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

To cast means to throw it off.

You don’t carry it.

You don’t nurse it.

You don’t rehearse it.

You don’t let it grow into what Hebrews calls “a root of bitterness.”

You throw it.

And trust Him.

That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.

It means you will not be moved at your core.

The Hard Question

It’s easy to ask:

Who betrayed me?

Harder question:

Who have I betrayed?

We are capable of:

• Double speech

• Quiet resentment

• Envy

• Hypocrisy

The psalm warns us as much as it comforts us.

Final Word

You cannot control what others do.

You can control how you respond.

When betrayal comes:

Pray.

Lament honestly.

Entrust justice to God.

Cast your burden.

Trust Him.

That’s it.

That is Psalm 55.

There’s a kind of opposition that doesn’t just disagree with you—it wants to harm you. Psalm 35 is written for those moments: when you’re being lied about, targeted, mocked, or pursued without cause.

David’s situation is familiar in a fallen world. He describes malicious witnesses—people who speak with deliberate hostility, repay good with evil, and rejoice when he stumbles (Psalm 35:11–16). That’s not just “conflict.” That’s spiritual warfare praying against this present darkness

And what does David do? He doesn’t take personal vengeance. He prays. Not soft prayers—honest prayers. Bold prayers. God-centered prayers.

Start where David starts: “Lord, contend for me” (vv. 1–3)

The first line sets the whole tone:

“Contend, O LORD, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me.” (v. 1)

David calls on God as Warrior and Defender—post up with shield, buckler, spear, javelin (vv. 2–3). The point isn’t that believers become violent. The point is that God is capable.

And the heart of it is this sentence:

“Say to my soul, ‘I am your salvation.’” (v. 3)

Before David asks for anything to happen to his enemies, he asks for something to settle inside his own soul: God saves. God holds. God keeps.

The Bible is not embarrassed by judgment language (vv. 4–8, 26)

David prays that those who scheme evil would be shamed, turned back, and exposed (vv. 4–5). He even asks that their traps would rebound on them (v. 8).

That can feel uncomfortable—especially in a time when many Christians have been trained to think that “strong prayers” are automatically unloving. Christians have been lulled into soft prayers pleading for God to save. But Scripture shows a category of prayer that says:

• “Lord, stop evil.”

• “Lord, protect the innocent.”

• “Lord, bring down arrogant schemes.”

• “Lord, vindicate truth.”

This isn’t personal hatred. This is handing the case to the Judge of all the earth.

A key detail appears twice:

“Let them be like chaff… with the angel of the LORD driving them away… pursuing them.” (vv. 5–6). Isaiah 36 records the Angel of the Lord destroying 185,000 Assyrian soldiers.

This is vivid spiritual language. David is saying: “Lord, you intervene. You restrain. You overturn.”

When you did them good and they still turn on you (vv. 11–18)

This section is gut-level real.

David says these people repay him evil for good (v. 12). He even describes how he mourned, fasted, and prayed when they were sick—like they were family (vv. 13–14). Yet when he stumbled, they gathered to tear him apart (v. 15).

If you’ve ever helped someone and gotten punished for it, Psalm 35 give voice to your pain.

And David’s question is one believers still ask:

“How long, O LORD, will you look on?” (v. 17)

That question isn’t unbelief. It’s a cry of faith from someone who refuses to pretend evil is “no big deal.”

The anchor line: “You have seen, O LORD” (v. 22)

Here’s the stabilizer:

“You have seen, O LORD; be not silent.” (v. 22)

People lie. People spin narratives. People wink and smirk and say, “Aha!” (vv. 19–21). But David reminds his own heart: God’s eyes are not fooled.

So David asks for vindication—not based on his own perfect righteousness, but on God’s righteous judgment:

“Vindicate me, O LORD my God, according to your righteousness.” (v. 24)

That’s crucial. We are not asking God to bless our ego. We’re asking God to uphold what is right.

Jesus puts Psalm 35 on the table (John 15:18–25)

Jesus explicitly quotes the line: “They hated me without a cause.” (John 15:25; Psalm 35:19)

He accuses men of hating Him and therefore hating God. Christ teaches that the world’s hatred toward Him spills onto His people. We forget that unbelievers hate Jesus. If He is who He says He is then He makes a difference. We must either accept Him or reject Him. To accept is to acknowledge we are in need of a Savior. That we cannot see Gods face without submission to Christ. And to reject demands God mete out justice to those who refuse His Savior. So Psalm 35 isn’t a dusty Old Testament artifact. It helps believers pray when they’re mistreated for their allegiance to Christ.

How do Christians pray this without becoming malicious ourselves?

This is where balance matters.

Psalm 35 is not permission to cultivate a hateful spirit. It’s permission to bring the ugliness of real evil into the presence of God—and to ask God to act as God.

A faithful pattern looks like this:

1. Ask God to protect and restrain evil.

2. Ask God to expose lies and vindicate truth.

3. Ask God to humble the proud—down to the cross.

4. Ask God to save sinners—starting with us.

5. Refuse personal vengeance. We don’t pick up the sword to settle scores; we entrust judgment to the Lord.

Sometimes the most appropriate prayer is:

“Lord, bring them down—to repentance.”

Because the cross is where pride dies.

A simple prayer from Psalm 35

Lord, contend for me when I’m attacked.

Steady my soul: You are my salvation.

Expose lies. Stop evil. Protect the innocent.

Humble the proud and bring sinners to repentance.

Keep my heart from bitterness and my hands from vengeance.

Vindicate what is right, and glorify Your Name through it all.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

I’ve always been fascinated by what are called the imprecatory psalms.

It’s a tough word, but the meaning is simple: these are prayers—found right in the Book of Psalms—that ask God to judge evil and deal with His enemies. If you’ve never heard the term, you’ve definitely heard the sound of it.

One of the most startling examples comes from Psalm 137, where the exiled Israelites—crushed under Babylonian oppression—pray in language so blunt it makes modern readers flinch. It’s harsh. It’s bold. It’s uncomfortable. And yet—it’s in the Bible.

So the question is unavoidable:

What do we do with these psalms?

Do we ignore them? Apologize for them? Explain them away as “Old Testament emotion” and move on?

Some preachers practically do that. They say, “Well, it’s just emotional poetry,” or “That’s not really for us anymore.”

But I don’t believe we get to cut and choose the parts of Scripture we like. If God placed these prayers in His Word, then God intends His people to learn how to understand them—and how to pray rightly.

The Tension We Feel

Imprecatory psalms confront real enemies. They confront evil people. They ask God to judge, not merely to heal.

And we feel the tension immediately because the New Testament also tells us:

• Love your enemies

• Pray for those who persecute you

• Do not repay evil for evil

So how do we hold those truths together?

Not by pretending the tension isn’t there.

Not by dodging hard passages.

But by learning what Scripture actually teaches about prayer, justice, holiness, and judgment.

What Imprecatory Psalms Are

Here’s a working definition:

An imprecatory psalm is a prayer that appeals to God to:

1. Judge evil

2. Restrain the wicked

3. Vindicate the righteous

The Bible uses “vindication” language more than many Christians realize. God’s people are not wrong to pray, “Lord, let the truth be revealed,” or “Lord, defend the innocent,” or “Lord, bring what’s hidden into the light.”

But we need to be clear:

What Imprecatory Psalms Are Not

Imprecation is not a blank check for personal revenge.

• It is not a license to become vindictive.

• It does not permit loss of self-control.

• It does not authorize Christians to incite violence or “act like the world acts.”

There is a difference between self-defense and revenge. There are situations where protecting life is necessary. But Scripture does not allow believers to cultivate a spirit of retaliation or to become agents of personal vengeance.

Imprecatory prayer is not about us “getting even.”

It is about handing justice to the only One fit to hold it: God the Judge.

Why Start with Psalms 5 & 7?

For this series, I’m using Psalms 5 and 7 as an introduction because they set the frame:

• Who God is

• Who judges

• How we approach Him

These psalms contain imprecatory elements, but the whole psalm isn’t simply “destroy my enemies.” They’re a doorway into the topic because they begin with holiness, refuge, examination, and worship.

Psalm 5: God Is Holy

David begins:

“Give ear to my words, O LORD… in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch.”

Notice what comes early:

“You are not a God who delights in wickedness… you hate all evildoers.”

That’s a sentence our culture doesn’t like. But David isn’t confused about God. God is holy. Evil cannot live comfortably in His presence.

Then David draws the line:

“But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love, will enter your house…”

David is not standing over sinners like he’s superior. He’s standing under God’s mercy, saying: “I fear You. Lead me. Keep me.”

And then comes a bold request:

“Make them bear their guilt, O God… cast them out, for they have rebelled against you.”

This is not David acting as judge. This is David praying to the Judge.

Psalm 7: God Examines Before God Judges

Psalm 7 begins with refuge:

“In you do I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers…”

Then David does something that needs to be normal for Christians:

“O LORD my God, if I have done this… if there is wrong in my hands…”

In other words:

“Examine me, Lord, before I speak about them.”

That’s spiritual maturity. Before David calls down justice, he asks God to search him.

Then David prays:

“Arise, O LORD, in your anger… You have appointed a judgment.”

And he states something sobering:

“God is a righteous judge… If a man does not repent, God will sharpen his sword.”

David believes two things at once:

1. God is holy and will judge evil.

2. The psalmist is not God, and must not act like God.

Psalm 7 ends in worship—again.

The Big Idea of Week One

Put Psalms 5 and 7 together and you get the controlling thesis:

When evil surrounds us, the first faithful act is not retaliation—it is prayer to a holy Judge.

But What About the New Testament?

Here’s the key: Imprecation does not disappear in the New Testament.

• Jesus pronounces “woes” in Matthew 23 against hardened religious hypocrisy.

• Jesus teaches that God will bring justice for His elect in Luke 18.

• Paul writes, “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord” in Romans 12—meaning vengeance belongs to God, not us.

• Paul says “Let him be accursed” in Galatians 1 concerning those preaching a false gospel.

• Paul warns Timothy about a harmful man and says, “The Lord will repay him” (2 Timothy 4:14).

• And the martyrs in heaven cry, “How long, O Lord?” in Revelation 6.

So the New Testament doesn’t cancel divine judgment. It confirms imprecatory prayer.

It teaches believers to refuse personal retaliation while trusting God’s final justice.

The Cross Holds It Together

The cross tells us something non-negotiable:

• Evil will be judged.

• Sin is weighty.

• God’s wrath is real.

• And God’s mercy is astonishing.

At the cross, judgment and mercy meet. God does not pretend sin is small—He absorbs judgment Himself through the Son.

And that changes how we pray:

We can pray with moral clarity about evil, and still offer mercy to sinners—because we remember we were once enemies too.

How We Pray This Way Today

So what do we do?

We pray boldly, not vaguely.

Not: “Lord, bless everyone, keep everything nice.”

But: “Lord, restrain wickedness. Expose lies. Protect the innocent. Vindicate your people.”

We name evil honestly.

We refuse revenge.

We maintain self-control.

We wait faithfully.

And we ask God to teach us how to pray like David prayed—through the lens of the cross—so that we can wage war righteously, not carnally.

Lord, teach us to pray with courage and restraint.

Make us honest about evil and humble about ourselves.

Help us live clean-handed, clear-eyed, and fearless in a dark world.

Restrain wickedness, protect the innocent, vindicate your people, and bring sinners to repentance.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

A Meditation on Psalm 133

Psalm 133 is one of the shortest psalms in the entire Psalter—only three verses—but it carries a weight far heavier than its length suggests.

“Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity.”

That opening line names something every human being longs for. Unity. Connection. Belonging. Whether someone believes in God or not, the desire is universal. We want it in our families, in our marriages, in our friendships, in our workplaces, and especially in the church.

We know the ache because we also know the absence of it. Broken families, fractured friendships, divided communities—all testify that unity is precious and rare. When it is present, we recognize it immediately. When it is gone, the loss is unmistakable.

Scripture tells us why this longing exists: we were made for it. Fellowship is not an accident of personality or culture; it is part of our spiritual design. God created His people to dwell together, to worship together, and to live together as one body. Psalm 133 affirms that truth.

But this psalm also confronts us with a hard reality: true unity does not exist everywhere. It does not exist automatically. And it does not exist wherever we decide it should.

True unity exists only where Christ is honored.

That is the central claim of Psalm 133. If people—believers or unbelievers—want to experience real, honest, vulnerable unity, they must be among a people where Jesus Christ is confessed as Lord, where His commands are taught and obeyed, and where He alone is recognized as Savior and High Priest.

This is not a discussion about teamwork or compatibility. People can work well together without unity. Teams can function efficiently without holiness. Families can share space without sharing hearts. Psalm 133 is describing something deeper—something God-produced, not man-managed.

David could have chosen many images to describe unity. He could have compared it to strong rope, fortified walls, or disciplined ranks. He does none of those things.

Instead, he points us to something unexpected:

“It is like the precious oil on the head, running down on the beard, on the beard of Aaron…”

Oil. Flowing. Messy. Excessive. Sacred.

David directs our attention to the anointing of Aaron, Israel’s first high priest. This was not a symbolic gesture or a sentimental ritual. God Himself commanded the creation of a unique, holy oil, and Moses was instructed to pour it abundantly over Aaron’s head. That oil marked Aaron as God’s chosen mediator between Himself and the people.

Unity, David tells us, is like that.

It flows downward.

It comes from above.

It is initiated by God, not negotiated by man.

That detail matters. Unity is not fragile because it is not man-made. God is not stingy with blessing. The oil does not trickle up from the people—it flows down from the head. Believers are not the source of unity, nor are they responsible to manufacture or maintain it through effort alone.

David adds a second image:

“It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion.”

Dew arrives quietly. It comes consistently. It falls while we sleep.

No one schedules dew. No one controls it. No one earns it.

And yet, morning after morning, there it is.

Unity works the same way. God is often at work forming it long before we notice it. While we rest. While we wait. While we submit.

This psalm does not ask whether unity is desirable—we all agree that it is. Instead, it corrects how we pursue it.

We tend to believe unity comes from better communication, clearer policies, or stronger leadership. Psalm 133 says no. Unity comes from holiness before God, right mediation for sin, and shared submission to God’s anointed provision.

Unity does not begin horizontally.

Unity does not come from compromise.

Unity cannot survive without holiness.

When unity breaks, the answer is not “try harder to get along.” The answer is always, “return to the place where God’s presence is honored.”

That brings us back to Aaron—and ultimately beyond him.

The high priest stood as the representative head of the people. He bore their sins. He maintained purity. He was ordained by God, not appointed by men. Through sacrifice, he secured peace between God and the nation.

All of that pointed forward.

Jesus Christ is the true and final High Priest. God anointed Him with the Holy Spirit and with power (Acts 10:38). He mediates a new covenant through His blood (Hebrews 9:15). He Himself is our peace, breaking down every dividing wall (Ephesians 2:14).

Unity flows from Him because life flows from Him.

Where Christ is honored as Head—where His work is trusted, His commands obeyed, and His intercession relied upon—God commands the blessing: life forevermore.

Unity does not fail because people are different. It fails because people are sinful. Sin resists unity because unity requires honesty, vulnerability, and submission. Where no oil flows and no dew falls, God has not commanded blessing.

Psalm 133 teaches us that unity is not something we conjure up through meals, handshakes, hugs, or shared schedules. Unity is the byproduct of hearts fully submitted to Christ.

If we want to be a church marked by real love, authentic relationships, and lasting fellowship, it will only happen when we fall before Christ, confess our sin, and submit everything to Him. That is where unity begins. That is where it is sustained. That is where life flows.

Many people are starving for real connection. They will not find it in their jobs, their hobbies, or their social circles. At best, they will find shadows.

True unity—deep, honest, life-giving unity—is found only in the church where Christ is honored.

“Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity…

For there the LORD has commanded the blessing—life forevermore.”

A few weeks ago, Trish asked me what I was studying, and I said, “Psalm 103, Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

She said, “Isn’t that a song?”

And I said, “I’m sure it is—somewhere.”

Psalm 103 is one of David’s psalms. We don’t know exactly when it was written or what moment in David’s life prompted it. What we do know is that it was collected during Israel’s exile—a season of hardship, loss, and suffering. That context matters.

David writes this psalm to put himself—and us—into the right frame of mind.

Let’s read Psalm 103 together.

“Bless the LORD, O my soul,

and all that is within me, bless his holy name.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits…”

(Psalm 103:1–2, ESV)

This psalm opens and closes the same way:

“Bless the LORD, O my soul.”

That’s intentional.

David is commanding his own heart. As my dear friend, Betty Felder Larkin would say, “David is willing his will.” And so must we.

The Great Human Desire to Matter

As I was meditating on this psalm, I kept thinking about something that shows up everywhere in our culture today: the desire to make an impact.

People want their lives to matter.

They want significance.

They want legacy.

We want to believe that somehow, years from now, someone will remember us.

One of my favorite historical figures is Teddy Roosevelt. Politically, he’s complicated. But as a human being? Fascinating. He was the alpha male of his generation. Larger than life. He even has his face carved into a mountain.

And yet—let’s be honest—most people couldn’t tell you more than one thing he did.

In a hundred years, no one will remember us either.

That’s not pessimism. That’s reality.

Beloved, we are dust with deadlines.

This breath we have is borrowed.

We are here for a season—and then we are gone.

Psalm 103 tells us exactly that:

“For he knows our frame;

he remembers that we are dust.” (v.14)

That’s not an insult.

That’s perspective.

Why David Blesses the Lord

David commands himself to bless the Lord because he remembers God’s benefits.

“Forget not all his benefits…” (v.2)

And then David lists them:

• He forgives all your iniquity

• He heals all your diseases

• He redeems your life from the pit

• He crowns you with steadfast love and mercy

• He satisfies you with good

Which one do you cling to the most?

For many of us, it’s the first one:

“Who forgives all your iniquity.”

Now, let’s be clear: David is not promising that every disease disappears on this side of heaven. We still live in broken bodies in a broken world. But there is a deeper healing happening.

One day, fully and finally, this body will be made new.

This soul will be made whole.

That alone is reason to bless the Lord.

God’s Righteous Deeds and Mercy

David then moves from personal benefits to God’s righteous actions:

“The LORD works righteousness and justice for all who are oppressed.” (v.6)

He recalls Moses. The Exodus. God revealing Himself to His people.

And then we reach one of the most important verses in the psalm:

“The LORD is merciful and gracious,

slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” (v.8)

That verse is the heart of this psalm.

Because David immediately contrasts it with us:

“He does not deal with us according to our sins,

nor repay us according to our iniquities.” (v.10)

Praise God for that.

And then comes the line we all know:

“As far as the east is from the west,

so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” (v.12)

You can measure north and south.

You cannot measure east and west.

That’s the point.

Fragile People, Everlasting Love

David then reminds us who we are:

“As for man, his days are like grass…

the wind passes over it, and it is gone.” (vv.15–16)

But then—but—

“The steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting

on those who fear him.” (v.17)

We fade.

God does not.

We are temporary.

God is eternal.

And His love carries forward—generation to generation.

That matters. Especially when you think about your children. Your grandchildren. The legacy of faith being passed on long after we are gone.

God Rules—Everything Obeys

The final section of the psalm zooms out.

“The LORD has established his throne in the heavens,

and his kingdom rules over all.” (v.19)

Angels obey Him.

Creation obeys Him.

Everything does His will.

And then David circles back—right back to himself:

“Bless the LORD, O my soul.”

Everything obeys God.

So, soul—why wouldn’t you?

Why People Don’t Bless the Lord

Here’s the flip side.

Many people don’t bless the Lord because God is invisible—and invisibility feels convenient.

An unseen God can be:

• edited

• ignored

• redefined

People say things like:

• “I believe in something.”

• “No one can really know God.”

• “God would never…”

But Scripture shuts that down.

“He is the image of the invisible God.” (Colossians 1:15)

You don’t get to redefine God.

Christ already has.

And John says it even more clearly:

“No one has ever seen God…

He has made Him known.” (John 1:18)

God is not unclear.

God is inconvenient.

Christ demands submission—not editing.

Unbelief is not a lack of evidence. Creation shouts. Conscience testifies.

Unbelief is rejecting revelation.

The Image and the Call

We were created in the image of God.

We rebelled.

Christ is the perfect image of God.

He obeyed.

So we don’t point people to ourselves.

We don’t point people to church culture.

We point people to Christ.

Because if you want to know what God is like—look at Jesus.

Psalm 103 calls us to remember.

To bless.

To worship.

Because though we are dust, God is merciful.

Though we are fragile, God is eternal.

Though we forget, God does not.

So—bless the Lord, O my soul.

And share Christ to help others do the same.