Tag Archives: Prayer
On Psalm 119. 153-160 (Resh)
153 Consider my affliction and rescue me,
for I have not forgotten your instruction.
154 Champion my cause and redeem me;
give me life as you promised.
155 Salvation is far from the wicked
because they do not study your statutes.
156 Your compassions are many, Lord;
give me life according to your judgments.
157 My persecutors and foes are many.
I have not turned from your decrees.
158 I have seen the disloyal and feel disgust
because they do not keep your word.
159 Consider how I love your precepts;
Lord, give me life according to your faithful love.
160 The entirety of your word is truth,
each of your righteous judgments endures forever.
We now come to the twentieth stanza of Psalm 119 (ר/resh, pronounced raysh), and many of the thoughts and themes are a continuation from the previous stanza (qoph). Our psalmist begins by asking God to “consider my affliction and rescue me.“ Clearly, our psalmist is experiencing some measure of personal suffering and sorrow. And we must affirm that suffering and difficulty are a regular part of the life of faith. The Christian life is not lived apart from suffering, but through it. The question is not whether we will suffer and face difficulties, but how we will suffer and face difficulties. Our psalmist’s suffering drives him toward God, not away from him, as he says, “for I have not forgotten your instruction.” In other words, in the midst of his suffering and troubles, our psalmist clings to God’s Word, because he believes that God is fundamentally faithful to his promises. His suffering may be real, but so too is the steadfast faithfulness of the God who speaks.
This is why he goes on to pray in verse 154, “Champion my cause and redeem me; give me life as your promised.” Notice that the psalmist appeals not to his own personal merits, but to God’s covenant mercy. He understands that he cannot ultimately save himself and that he depends entirely upon God’s intervention. And this is exactly the point, namely that our affliction and difficulties are meant to expose our weaknesses and our inabilities to sustain ourselves apart from God. Yet the psalmist does not collapse into despair or hopelessness. Rather, he cultivates a posture of active dependence upon the Lord. His suffering does not destroy his faith; it drives him more deeply into dependence upon God and his promises. He prays, he cries out, he seeks the Lord, and he clings to the certainty of God’s covenant faithfulness. This is what true dependence looks like. It is not passive resignation, but persevering trust that continues to hold firmly to the faithfulness of God even in the face of suffering and uncertainty.
Of course, this is not true for those who stand outside of covenant relationship with God. Verse 155 reads, “Salvation is far from the wicked because they do not study your statutes.” This is not merely a rejection of moral instruction in an abstract sense; rather, it is a wholesale covenant repudiation. The wicked are described as those whose lives are fundamentally oriented away from God and his Word. By contrast, the righteous cling to God’s promises and seek refuge in his instruction. This distinction is incredibly important because the psalmist understands that salvation and deliverance cannot be separated from relationship with God himself. Life, truth, obedience, and salvation all belong together. This stands in direct contrast to the instincts of our fallen nature. So often, we desire comfort, peace, and deliverance while resisting submission to God and his Word. We want the blessings of covenant without the God of the covenant. But the psalmist refuses to separate these realities. To reject the Word of God is ultimately to reject the God who gives life, because his Word is the very means through which he reveals himself, sustains his people, and leads them into salvation and truth.
The God of the Bible is the only one who can truly give life, as our psalmist prays, “Your compassions are many, Lord; give me life according to your judgments.” Of course, our psalmist is not merely praying for physical preservation, though that is certainly included within his request. The “life” he prays for is spiritual, covenantal, and relational; it is grounded in the Lord’s many compassions. This is why he repeatedly prays for God to revive him according to his steadfast love, his judgments, and his Word. True and abundant life, a life that is full and flourishing, flows from the character of God as he reveals himself through his Word and remains faithful to his covenant promises. In other words, the Word of God is not abstract information, bare command, or mere doctrine; it is life-giving revelation. And this notion stands in direct contrast to the instincts of our modern world. We often seek life and renewal through changing circumstances, distractions, self-help strategies, or emotional experiences, but none of these things can truly sustain the soul. The psalmist understands that real life can only be found in God and in his Word. Scripture does not merely inform the people of God; it sustains, revives, and gives them life.
And so, our psalmist concludes in verse 160, “The entirety of your word is truth, each of your righteous judgments endures forever.” In many ways, this is the theological climax of the stanza. The psalmist’s confidence ultimately rests not in changing circumstances, nor even in the immediate easing of his affliction, but in the enduring truthfulness of God’s Word. As we saw in the previous stanza, the details and circumstances of human experience change constantly, sometimes day by day, even moment by moment. Our emotions fluctuate, our trials intensify, and the uncertainties of life often leave us feeling unstable and weary. But the truthfulness of God does not change. His Word remains fixed, enduring, and eternally true. This is why the stability of the Christian life ultimately depends upon the stability of divine revelation rather than the instability of human experience. Like the psalmist, then, we are able to persevere through every season of suffering and uncertainty because the God who speaks remains faithful and true, and his Word endures forever.
In the end, then, the Resh stanza of Psalm 119 teaches us what it means to seek life through the Word of God in the midst of suffering and affliction. The psalmist cries out, waits, longs for deliverance, and pleads for God to revive him, and yet throughout the stanza he continually turns back to the certainty of God’s promises and covenant faithfulness. Affliction does not sever his relationship with God; rather, suffering becomes the very context in which his dependence upon God deepens. And the same is true for the people of God today. We continue to seek life not in changing circumstances or fleeting comforts, but in the enduring faithfulness of the God who speaks. Though affliction surrounds the people of God, true life is found in the God who speaks, whose Word remains forever true and whose covenant faithfulness never fails.
For further study:
Introduction
Psalm 119.1-8
Psalm 119.9-16
Psalm 119.17-24
Psalm 119.25-32
Psalm 119.33-40
Psalm 119.41-48
Psalm 119.49-56
Psalm 119.57-64
Psalm 119.65-72
Psalm 119.73-80
Psalm 119.81-88
Psalm 119.89-96
Psalm 119.97-104
Psalm 119.105-112
Psalm 119.113-120
Psalm 119.121-128
Psalm 119.129-136
Psalm 119.137-144
Psalm 119.145-152
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On Psalm 119.145-152 (Qoph)
145 I call with all my heart; answer me, Lord.
I will obey your statutes.
146 I call to you; save me,
and I will keep your decrees.
147 I rise before dawn and cry out for help;
I put my hope in your word.
148 I am awake through each watch of the night
to meditate on your promise.
149 In keeping with your faithful love, hear my voice.
Lord, give me life in keeping with your justice.
150 Those who pursue evil plans come near;
they are far from your instruction.
151 You are near, Lord,
and all your commands are true.
152 Long ago I learned from your decrees
that you have established them forever.
It has been a while since I have continued my work through Psalm 119, but we now come to the nineteenth stanza (ק/Qoph). Immediately in the opening verses, we are met with the heartfelt cry of the psalmist. He rises before the dawn and cries out; he watches through the night and longs for deliverance. There is a desperation and urgency in his prayers that is all too familiar to the people of God. And yet, what grounds the psalmist in the midst of his anxieties is a profound confidence in God and in his Word. In other words, even amid the uncertainties of his circumstances, there remains a quiet confidence, a sure and certain foundation upon which he can stand, namely the faithfulness of God to his promises. Even as he waits for God to intervene in his particular situation, he does so with the expectation that God will do what he has said he will do. He will keep his promises; he will remain true to his Word.
This is perhaps why the psalmist’s prayers are so heartfelt and sincere. He cries out “with all my heart.” This is not empty emotionalism or emotion for emotion’s sake; rather, it is the full orientation of the whole self toward God in utter dependence upon him and his promises. It is only from this posture of dependence that we are truly able to express our deepest fears, longings, and vulnerabilities before God. This is one of the great comforts of covenant relationship with him, namely that we can entrust even our most personal anxieties and desperations into his hands because he hears the cries of his people. At the same time, the psalmist balances his cries for deliverance with his own commitment to walk in obedience and faithfulness. This is not a kind of tit-for-tat arrangement in which obedience earns God’s favor. Rather, it is the logic of covenant itself. God has promised to remain faithful to his word, and the psalmist responds with trust expressed through obedience. In other words, true dependence upon God does not produce passivity, but faithful perseverance. It is a radical dependence that issues forth in both trust and obedience.
It is this covenant relationship that also strengthens the psalmist’s perseverance; he rises before the dawn and watches through the night. These actions express hopeful expectation even in the midst of waiting. The fact of the matter is that we simply do not know how long the psalmist has been observing these rhythms of prayer and longing. Perhaps he has been crying out for deliverance for a very long time. And yet he persists in the offering because he remains confident that God will one day answer his prayers. Of course, waiting is a common season in the Christian life. We have all experienced moments in which we long for God’s intervention and yet it does not seem to be forthcoming. It is precisely this kind of hopeful expectation that provides the strength necessary to persevere through such seasons. Indeed, this is how waiting itself can be transformed into worship, namely when it is sustained by confidence in the promises of God. The dawn has not yet come, but hope keeps the people of God awake in the darkness.
Because, let’s face it, we do live in the midst of pervasive darkness. The psalmist puts it this way in verse 150: “Those who pursue evil plans come near; they are far from your instruction.” And yet, in the very next line, he says, “You are near, Lord.” This is one of the great comforts of covenant relationship with God, namely that the nearness of affliction does not negate the nearness of God himself. The psalmist appears to be experiencing real oppression. He is pursued by those who would do him harm and likely lives under the constant threat of suffering and hostility. And yet, his confidence does not rest in the immediate resolution of his circumstances, but in the character and presence of God. This is an incredibly important insight because we are often tempted to interpret suffering as evidence of divine distance or absence. But Scripture repeatedly teaches us otherwise. Indeed, it is often in our deepest pains and afflictions that the nearness of God becomes most precious to his people. The psalmist knows this because his confidence is grounded not in changing circumstances, but in the sure and steadfast promises of God. The darkness may draw near, but the Lord is nearer still.
The psalmist knows this truth because, as he says in verse 152, “Long ago I learned from your decrees that you have established them forever.” This is an important statement because, in the midst of a stanza filled with emotional weight and longing, the psalmist ultimately grounds his confidence in the objective certainty of God’s Word. He is not led by his emotions, nor is he controlled by the instability of his circumstances. Rather, he is anchored in the enduring faithfulness of God and his promises. This is because God’s Word is not only true, but eternally true. In the midst of the shifting seasons of life, the highs and lows of our emotions, and the ever-changing nature of our trials and afflictions, the promises of God remain fixed and unchanging. The Lord himself is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and therefore his faithfulness does not fluctuate with the changing tides of human experience. This is why the people of God are able to persevere with expectant hope, because our confidence ultimately rests not in ourselves or our circumstances, but in the unchanging certainty of the Word of God.
In the end, then, the Qoph stanza of Psalm 119 teaches us what it means to persevere in hopeful dependence upon God. The psalmist cries out, waits, watches, suffers, and longs for deliverance, and yet the dominant note throughout the stanza is not despair, but confidence. Though darkness surrounds him and affliction draws near, he remains convinced that the Lord is nearer still. This is often the shape of the Christian life as well. We pray before the dawn; we wait through long nights of uncertainty; we trust God before deliverance finally comes. And yet, in all of these seasons, the people of God continue to hope because our confidence rests not in ourselves or in the stability of our circumstances, but in the unchanging faithfulness of God and his Word. The darkness may linger through the night, but the people of God continue to hope because the God who speaks remains near, and his word remains forever true.
For further study:
Introduction
Psalm 119.1-8
Psalm 119.9-16
Psalm 119.17-24
Psalm 119.25-32
Psalm 119.33-40
Psalm 119.41-48
Psalm 119.49-56
Psalm 119.57-64
Psalm 119.65-72
Psalm 119.73-80
Psalm 119.81-88
Psalm 119.89-96
Psalm 119.97-104
Psalm 119.105-112
Psalm 119.113-120
Psalm 119.121-128
Psalm 119.129-136
Psalm 119.137-144
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On Christ as the Fulfillment of the Psalms
One of the richest books in the Old Testament, in my opinion, is the Book of Psalms. It is a collection filled with the prayers and songs of Israel throughout her history, and it holds immense value for the devotional life of the church today. When we read the Psalms, we are drawn into the devotional, emotional, and personal experience of faith in ways that touch every part of our lives. And this is good and right. But the Psalms are not only expressions of faith, whether Israel’s or our own. They are also filled with expectations that reach beyond themselves. The Book of Psalms gives voice to Israel’s experience, to her covenant relationship with God, and to the life of faith more broadly, but it also creates categories that are not fully resolved within Israel’s history. In other words, the Psalms cry out for fulfillment, and it is my thesis that that fulfillment is ultimately found in and through the person and work of Jesus Christ.
In terms of the Old Testament canon, the Book of Psalms consists of prayers and songs that reflect the people, events, and experiences of Israel’s history. They provide a kind of covenantal reflection and royal theology that flows directly out of that historical context. However, the Psalms consistently reach beyond their immediate setting to realities that are eschatological in nature and central to God’s redemptive purposes. For example, in Psalm 22, we encounter the figure of the righteous sufferer—one who endures deep emotional and physical suffering through no fault of his own. While the superscript attributes the psalm to David, the experience described surpasses anything we can clearly identify in his life. Similarly, Psalms 2 and 110 present a vision of Israel’s ideal king: one who is anointed by God, victorious over his enemies, and who reigns with perfect righteousness and justice. Yet no king in Israel’s history, David included, fully embodies this portrait. Likewise, Psalm 1 sets forth a picture of perfect obedience that distinguishes the righteous from the wicked—an ideal never fully realized in Israel or in our own experience. The point is that the realities these psalms describe extend far beyond any one historical figure. They are not exhausted by the past; they point forward. This is why we can say that they cry out for fulfillment.
What I am saying is that the Psalms present us with a kind of tension; they describe ideals that are a far cry from the lived experience of the faithful, both then and now. The righteous sufferer suffers, but he is ultimately vindicated. The ideal king reigns, yet the nations still rage against his authority. The faithful worshiper trusts in God’s covenant promises, but the world remains broken and filled with sin. In other words, these themes are not fully resolved within the Psalter itself; they point beyond its pages and look forward to the decisive intervention of God. Or to put it differently, the Psalms do not simply describe reality as it is; they long for its restoration. There is a deep and persistent yearning throughout the Psalms for God to act on behalf of his people, to fulfill his promises, to judge the wicked, and to vindicate the righteous. This has been the cry of God’s people from the time of the fall until today. We know that something is wrong with the world as it is, and we long for the day when God will set things right and restore creation to what it was always meant to be. This is the heart of the Psalms.
Of course, it is clear in the Gospels that Jesus knew the Psalms well; no doubt he had read, heard, and memorized many of them throughout his life. But Jesus does not merely quote from the Psalms; he inhabits the realities that they describe. For example, when he is hanging on the cross, he cries out in quotation of Psalm 22.1, even as he bears the weight of his work in making atonement for sin. (On the cry of dereliction, see here.) This is not simply a cry of anguish, but an identification with the righteous sufferer whose vindication is anticipated in that psalm. Or again, in his debates with the religious leaders, he quotes Psalm 110.1 in reference to the identity of the Messiah (Matt. 22.41–46). But this is not merely an abstract theological question; it cuts to the very heart of Jesus’s identity as David’s Lord and the one who shares in the authority of God himself. Likewise, after telling the parable of the vineyard owner, Jesus quotes Psalm 118.22–23 about the stone the builders rejected, applying it directly to his own rejection by the religious leaders (Matt. 21.42–46). Many commentators suggest that these quotations function in a way similar to the Jewish practice of remez, where a single verse evokes the broader context of the entire psalm. The point is that Jesus read the Psalms as speaking about himself and his mission. He is not merely borrowing their language; he is revealing their fulfillment, embodying in his own life, death, and resurrection the realities toward which they ultimately point.
This is most clearly seen in the accounts of Jesus’s passion. I have already mentioned his quotation of Psalm 22, but he also alludes to Psalm 31.5, “Into your hands I entrust my spirit.” In addition to this, the Gospel writers present Jesus as inhabiting the experience of the righteous sufferer described in Psalm 69—one who is mocked, rejected, and consumed with zeal for the house of God. Even in the details of his crucifixion, we see the Psalms shaping the narrative, as John notes that not one of his bones was broken, in keeping with Psalm 34.20. These are not random correspondences; they are theological claims. The cross is the place where the unresolved tensions of the Psalms converge. The suffering of the righteous one, the apparent triumph of the wicked, and the trust of the faithful all meet in this moment. And yet, even here, lament is not the final word. In the midst of suffering, there is trust; in the midst of humiliation, there is the promise of vindication. In other words, what the Psalms anticipated, the cross of Jesus embodies. The cries of the Psalter are not silenced at Calvary; they are fulfilled there, as Jesus bears the full weight of suffering while entrusting himself completely to the Father.
And these kinds of connections between the person and work of Jesus and the Psalms are not unique to the Gospels; they are found throughout the New Testament. The apostles consistently interpret the Psalms in light of Christ. For example, in Acts 2, Peter quotes Psalm 16 in defense of Jesus’s resurrection, arguing that David’s words, “You will not abandon my soul to Hades or allow your Holy One to see decay,” cannot ultimately refer to David himself, since his tomb remained among them. Rather, the psalm finds its true fulfillment in the resurrection of Jesus. Likewise, in Acts 4, when the early church faces opposition, they quote Psalm 2 to interpret the raging of the nations against Jesus as the outworking of God’s sovereign plan. And again, in Acts 4:11, Peter cites Psalm 118.22 about the stone the builders rejected and applies it directly to Christ, a move he likely learned from Jesus himself. The author of Hebrews goes even further, repeatedly drawing from the Psalms to establish the superiority of the Son over angels, priests, and kings (e.g., Psalms 2, 8, and 110 among others). These examples could be multiplied, but the point is clear: the New Testament does not treat the Psalms merely as background; it treats them as prophetic and forward-looking. This fulfillment is not always a matter of direct prediction, but often of pattern and typology. The apostles read the Psalms as finding their true meaning in Christ, a hermeneutic grounded in Jesus’s own words that “everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled” (Luke 24:44).
In other words, Christ is the true singer of the Psalms. He is the true righteous one of Psalm 1; he is the true king of Psalm 2. He is the true suffering servant of Psalm 22, and on and on we could go through all 150 psalms. What the Psalter describes in part and in shadow, Christ embodies in fullness and in reality. He fulfills the Psalms both perfectly, in himself, and representatively, for us. That is to say, he is not only the one who perfectly lives out the life of trust, obedience, and righteousness described in the Psalms, but he is also the one who does so on behalf of his people. He stands in our place as the faithful worshiper, the obedient son, and the righteous sufferer who entrusts himself fully to the Father. This means that the Psalms ultimately belong to Christ before they belong to us. We do not begin with our own experience and read ourselves into the Psalms; rather, we begin with Christ and understand the Psalms through him. Only then, as those united to him by faith, do we find our place within their words.
This means that we must read the Psalms as Christians. Yes, we should still read them devotionally; yes, we should still make them our own in the discipline of prayer as we pray through the Scriptures. But we pray them as those who are united to Christ by faith; we pray them in him and through him. This means that our laments are joined to his laments; our cries of suffering are not isolated expressions, but echoes of the righteous sufferer who has gone before us. Likewise, our hope for vindication and deliverance is not grounded in uncertain circumstances, but in the sure reality of his resurrection. When we pray the Psalms, we are not merely expressing our own emotions; we are participating in the life of Christ himself. He gives shape to our prayers, depth to our suffering, and certainty to our hope. This is why we do not outgrow the Psalms; rather, we grow into them. We learn to read them more deeply in, with, and through Christ, finding that what once seemed distant or unresolved now finds clarity and fulfillment in him.
So, yes, the Psalms cry out for fulfillment, and Christ is the answer to their call. They give voice to the longings, tensions, and expectations of God’s people—longings for justice, for deliverance, for a righteous king, for the vindication of the faithful. Yet these cries are not left unresolved. They are not left hanging in the pages of the Old Testament. Rather, they find their resolution in Jesus. In his life, death, resurrection, and exaltation, the realities anticipated in the Psalms come to their fullness. The righteous sufferer is vindicated, the true king is enthroned, and the faithful worshiper is perfected. What the Psalms express in hope, Christ accomplishes in reality. To read the Psalms rightly, then, is not only to hear the voice of Israel, but to hear the voice of Christ—and to see that what they longed for, he has fulfilled.
For further study:
Ash, Christopher. The Psalms: A Christ-Centered Commentary. Four Volumes. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024.
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On the Beauty of the Church’s Worship
Several months ago, Matthew Barrett, then a professor at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, announced that he was leaving the SBC to become Anglican. Shortly thereafter, he took a position as Research Professor of Theology at Trinity Anglican Seminary, and he and his family joined St. Aidan’s Anglican Church in Kansas City. He detailed his reasons for making this change in an article on his blog/newsletter, Anselm House. Basically, he suggests that the SBC “officially rejected” Nicene orthodoxy, that the SBC values image over external (read episcopal) authority, and that the “baptist” hermeneutic is ultimately individualistic in its rejection of infant baptism. Though I find these criticisms to be greatly flawed and wholly inaccurate as representations of Baptist theology and ecclesiology, it is not my purpose to respond to them here. This has already been done by several others who are more capable than me. (For example, see Denny Burke’s response here.)
Rather, I would like to respond to another component of Barrett’s argument for Anglicanism, that being the beauty and and antiquity of its liturgy. After giving a rather glowing description of the elements and order of an Anglican worship service, including pictures, he goes on to write, “What a comfort to tell our kids, “The way we are worshipping is how Christians have worshipped across history. It’s really, really old. You are participating in the church universal.”” Now, let me just say that I have no small appreciation for high church liturgy. I have previously written on the use and value of the lectionary, the Christian calendar, and church tradition. I think there is much that modern churches, with their consumeristic performance based, emotion driven worship services, could learn from these practices. However, to say that “Anglicanism is the most beautiful representation of classical Christianity” is surely to place preferences of form over matters of substance.
The fact of the matter is that the early church’s worship was simple; it revolved around Word and Table, fellowship and prayer. As we read in Acts 2.42, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” Beyond this, we simply do not know what worship services in the early church consisted of. We have scattered liturgical details and other descriptions throughout the New Testament, but we do not have an official liturgy for the early church. Did they sing psalms? Probably. Did they read the Scriptures? Definitely. Did they pray together? Likely. Did they observe the ordinances of baptism an the Lord’s Supper? Clearly. Did they recite early kinds of creedal statements? Possibly. Of course, as the church grew, more formal liturgies were understandably developed, especially in the second and third centuries, and by the fourth century, there seems to have been a common or shared understanding of what the worship of the church should include and how it should progress. But, contrary to Dr. Barrett’s claim above, there is simply no proof that the Anglican liturgy is “how Christians have worshipped across history.” No doubt there are many similarities, but there is likely just as many differences that vary across place and time.
However, the more basic point that needs to be underscored here, I believe, is that the church’s worship, no matter what form or style it is expressed in, is beautiful. When God’s people gather together to sing His praise, to hear from His Word, to intercede in prayer for one another, to commemorate the Gospel is baptism and eucharist, there is simply nothing that is more beautiful, nothing more majestic, nothing more glorious. The voices of the saints singing and praying and confessing and expositing the great works of God in Christ as one gathered and united body in the Spirit is the most beautiful thing in this world. Of course, as I noted above, this beauty has sadly been lost in many churches today; we have turned the church’s worship into a show. We have exchanged beauty for spectacle, truth for emotion, participation for entertainment, and this is especially so in churches that do not come stand in the line of high church traditions. But, the point is that it is narrow minded and arrogant to suggest that one particular form or tradition of worship is the most beautiful, the most ancient, the most formation to the exclusion of all others.
In the Book of Revelation, John writes, “After this I looked, and there was a vast multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, which no one could number, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Revelation 7.9). This vision of the diversified and redeemed people of God standing before the heavenly throne praising God should help us to understand the beauty of the church’s worship. We do not all sing with one voice, we do not all worship in the same way. Every tradition, every culture, every community has its own way of worshiping God, and this is beautiful. The glory of God in Christ cannot be wholly encapsulated in just one worship tradition, but wherever there are genuine believers who are gathered together to worship God in Spirit an truth, this is beautiful. Every church has its own liturgy, whether it be formal or informal, but when we prioritize the form of our worship over the object of our worship, then we have missed the mark. Christ is the focus of our worship, there is no way that we could ever find enough ways to magnify and exult in His glory.
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On Praying Through Psalm 14
TEXT
For the choir director. Of David.
1 The fool says in his heart, “There’s no God.”
They are corrupt; they do vile deeds.
There is no one who does good.
2 The Lord looks down from heaven on the human race
to see if there is one who is wise,
one who seeks God.
3 All have turned away;
all alike have become corrupt.
There is no one who does good,
not even one.
4 Will evildoers never understand?
They consume my people as they consume bread;
they do not call on the Lord.
5 Then they will be filled with dread,
for God is with those who are righteous.
6 You sinners frustrate the plans of the oppressed,
but the Lord is his refuge.
7 Oh, that Israel’s deliverance would come from Zion!
When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people,
let Jacob rejoice, let Israel be glad.
~Psalm 14
Series: Praying through the Psalms
Text: Psalm 14.1-7
Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR
Date: June 28, 2023
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On Praying Through Psalm 11
TEXT
For the choir director. Of David.
1 I have taken refuge in the Lord.
How can you say to me,
“Escape to the mountains like a bird!
2 For look, the wicked string bows;
they put their arrows on bowstrings
to shoot from the shadows at the upright in heart.
3 When the foundations are destroyed,
what can the righteous do?”
4 The Lord is in his holy temple;
the Lord—his throne is in heaven.
His eyes watch;
his gaze examines everyone.
5 The Lord examines the righteous,
but he hates the wicked
and those who love violence.
6 Let him rain burning coals and sulfur on the wicked;
let a scorching wind be the portion in their cup.
7 For the Lord is righteous; he loves righteous deeds.
The upright will see his face.
~Psalm 11
Series: Praying through the Psalms
Text: Psalm 11.1-7
Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR
Date: June 7, 2023
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On the Ground of Christian Hope
TEXT
15 This is why, since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, 16 I never stop giving thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. 17 I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, would give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him. 18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what is the wealth of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the mighty working of his strength.
20 He exercised this power in Christ by raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavens— 21 far above every ruler and authority, power and dominion, and every title given, not only in this age but also in the one to come. 22 And he subjected everything under his feet and appointed him as head over everything for the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of the one who fills all things in every way.
~Ephesians 1.15-23
Title: On the Ground of Christian Hope
Text: Ephesians 1.15-23
Series: The Letter to the Ephesians
Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR
Date: May 28, 2023
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On Praying Through Psalm 8
TEXT
For the choir director: on the Gittith. A psalm of David.
1 Lord, our Lord,
how magnificent is your name throughout the earth!
You have covered the heavens with your majesty.
2 From the mouths of infants and nursing babies,
you have established a stronghold
on account of your adversaries
in order to silence the enemy and the avenger.
3 When I observe your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you set in place,
4 what is a human being that you remember him,
a son of man that you look after him?
5 You made him little less than God
and crowned him with glory and honor.
6 You made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet:
7 all the sheep and oxen,
as well as the animals in the wild,
8 the birds of the sky,
and the fish of the sea
that pass through the currents of the seas.
9 Lord, our Lord,
how magnificent is your name throughout the earth!
~Psalm 8
Series: Praying through the Psalms
Text: Psalm 8.1-9
Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR
Date: May 17, 2023
Faith seeking Understanding 