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Psalm 120

A Song of Ascents

1 In my distress I called to the Lord,
and he answered me.
2 Deliver me, O Lord,
from lying lips,
From a deceitful tongue.

3 What shall be given to you,
and what more shall be done to you,
you deceitful tongue?
4 A warrior's sharp arrows,
with glowing coals of the broom tree!

5 Woe to me, that I sojourn in Meshech,
that I dwell among the tents of Kedar!
6 Too long have I had my dwelling
among those who hate peace.
7 I am for peace,
but when I speak, they are for war!

• Begin by reading Psalm 120.
• Pray about what you have read.
• Make notes on what you think God is teaching you.
• Read the Chapter.
• Answer the questions in the section 'For your jounal'.

Psalm 120

Home is where the heart is. So the saying goes.

There is a Welsh word 'hiraeth', which is almost impossible to translate. It means an intense homesickness that can render the sufferer ill. There can exist a longing for familiar sights, sounds, and smells of what memory calls 'home' that is intense. Something of that 'longing for home' is apparent in this opening psalm of ascent.

Jerusalem was the psalmist's 'home'. It is not that he lived there; it is rather that he longed to be there. It is quite likely that he had made pilgrimages to this city as a young boy. It was here that he met with his fellow Jews at the occasion of the great feasts of Israel. More importantly, God himself had made his 'home' here by coming to dwell in the temple. But for some reason, the psalmist finds himself as far away from Jerusalem as it was possible to get.

He talks about being in two places: 'Meshech' which is thought to have been somewhere in the north, near the Black Sea (in what we would regard as the Baltic Republics); and to the south, 'among the tents of Kedar' in the Arabian desert (v. 5). Whatever his precise geographical location, emotionally and spiritually, he resides among the heathen: he feels far away from God and from the comforting reassurance of Christian fellowship. Unlike the sense of joy that opens Psalm 122, here the psalmist is melancholic: saddened by days of deprivation and opposition, he pines for better days to come. A spiritual melancholy has enveloped him. He is singing 'the blues'.

Every now and then, most believers will find themselves suffering from spiritual depression. When things don’t go according to our plan, we tend to get down. Something of this dis-ease is reflected in the opening verse of this psalm: here is a man who is in a state of 'distress' (v. 1; see 'woe', v. 5). 'The Holy Spirit has exhorted the faithful,' wrote John Calvin in a comment on Psalm 47:1-2, 'to continue clapping their hands for joy, until the advent of the promised Redeemer.'¹ But there are times when we feel unable to comply with this sentiment. The Psalms are nothing if not honest. And this psalm relates with alarming frankness just how the psalmist felt. In so doing, it accurately reflects the condition of many Christians who find themselves in similar circumstances from time to time.

It probably goes without saying that Psalm 120 is not a 'favourite' psalm for most Christians. On the surface, it is far too pessimistic and gloomy; it goes against the grain of what we modern Christians are led to expect from our faith. Conditions of deprivation and distress are not central to modern expressions of Christianity. We are taught that singing 'I'm h-a-p-p-y' is essential to our faith. Christians who betray seriousness, or worse, melancholy, are living spiritually impoverished lives. What they need, we are informed, is a fresh baptism of the Spirit, an awakening to what Christianity is all about: unmixed pleasures and prosperity.

Those who propagate such views sometimes cite Scripture to support what they say. Does not the Bible teach that we can expect to receive 'a hundredfold now in this time' such things as 'houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands' (Mark 10:30)? Certainly there are Christians who have taken such verses quite literally, spreading a gospel of health and wealth as the rightful expectation of every believer, and with it an expectation that Christians should experience an unrelenting sense of joy, somewhat narrowly defined as something frothy and exterior.

The supporters of this view of the Christian life forget that Jesus adds a caveat: 'with persecutions' (Mark 10:30)! No part of our Christian experience in this world will be free from suffering in some form or another. Every Christian must expect to receive things he does not want, and to be denied things that he craves. 'Losses and crosses', to borrow a phrase from the Puritans, is part of our lot, no matter how far advanced in holiness we may be. It was a lesson the apostle Paul learned following his first missionary journey: 'through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God' (Acts 14:22). And when Christians find themselves up against the wall, facing the 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune', it is understandable that they express a sense of sadness and near despair. One of the lessons that Jesus teaches us in his earthly life is that in the Garden of Gethsemane he came as close to despair as it is possible to get without sinning. Such intense seriousness was fitting for the occasion, and in displaying it, our Lord sanctions such feelings in the lives of his children. It is both dangerous and wrong to deny them.

The Bible is nothing if not completely candid about the condition of some of its most well-known believers. There are times when the best of God's people are downcast, when all they can say is 'Woe is me!' There are occasions when the light of God’s countenance seems to be withdrawn and the Christian believer has to walk about in the dark (Isa. 40:27; 49:14). The first of the Ascent Psalms seeks to identify with this spiritual malaise and to minister to those who suffer from it. It is, perhaps, encouraging in and of itself, that the Bible recognizes the condition so transparently. If it teaches nothing else, it tells us that those who feel like this are not alone. Even some of God’s giants have known times of anguish and despair. The psalmist feels far away from the Lord and the whole thing is getting him down.

Isolation from God is something which this psalm shares in common with two others, Psalms 42 and 43. It is the sense of isolation from God that caused the psalmist to be downcast there too: 'These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival' (Ps. 42:4). He had been one of the Levitical singers in the choir at the temple, accustomed to leading the congregation of Israel through the temple gates in joyous celebration of their great religious festivals. But now, physically separated from Jerusalem for some reason, he can no longer participate in those jubilant occasions. He is homesick for what had been the high point of his experience.

The psalmist is not alone in these feelings.

Elijah knew spiritual depression. When he faced the prophets of Baal and the ferocity of Ahab and Jezebel, he found himself demonstrating the power of the God of Israel by a pyrotechnic display of fire. The water-drenched sacrifice ignited as soon as Elijah called upon God to show his power (1 Kings 18:21-39). And yet, within a few hours we find him sitting beneath a juniper tree, utterly dejected and wishing his life away (1 Kings 19:1-19).

Jonah, in very different circumstances, runs away from God's revealed will. Instead of going to Nineveh to preach a message of forgiveness and reconciliation, he found himself taking a course of action which would lead him in the very opposite direction. When, after God had caught up with him, Jonah repents and does as he is told, we find him sitting underneath a vine and feeling utterly sorry for himself. He says, 'It would be better for me to die than to live' (Jonah 4:8).

The two disciples on the Emmaus Road, Cleopas and his companion (was it his wife, perhaps?) are a case in point (Luke 24:13-27). These two are walking the seven mile journey to Emmaus having witnessed the death and burial of Jesus Christ. They were disappointed, depressed, and close to despair. All their hopes had been dashed to pieces in the events of the previous two or three days. They were going home, and every step of the journey seemed to be painful and wearisome. They even looked sad (v. 17).

Life is like that; it is about unfulfilled expectations, sudden providences with devastating, unexplained consequences. You plan ahead only to have those plans shattered by unforeseen events. 'In the world you will have trouble,' Jesus warned (John 16:33). There is a war in which the Christian finds himself pitted against hostile forces determined to bring him down. The casualties of this conflict are the ‘walking worried’. And the psalmist seems to be one of them!

What are the causes of this spiritual melancholy? Psalm 120 mentions two in particular.

i) The opposition of the world. No Christian is sheltered from the world's ill will. Just because Christians live the way they do, shunning the world's gratification of personal power, profit and pleasure, they can expect the world to hate them. What the psalmist mentions here, 'lying lips' and 'a deceitful tongue' (v. 2), is but the world's response when stung by the believer’s refusal of its lifestyle. By building an ark, Noah 'condemned the world' (Heb. 11:7). We may, like the psalmist, desire peace; but the world has declared 'war' (v. 7).

Christians are the Lord's soldier-pilgrims and there is no advance made in the kingdom of God without opposition. The English puritan, John Geree, wrote in a tract, 'The Character of an Old English Puritane or Non-conformist' (1646), 'His whole life he accounted a warfare, wherein Christ was his captain, his arms, prayers and tears. The cross his banner and his word [motto]: Vincit qui patitur [he who suffers, conquers].'² It is opposition of this kind that produced in the Puritans such sharpness of wisdom and refinement of discipleship. In God's overall plan, opposition and difficulty are meant for our 'good' (Rom. 8:28).

This is what Jesus tells us to expect. Unbelievers, Jesus warns, will know nothing of the world's opposition: 'If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you' (John 15:18-19). Whether the opposition is cool and calculating, or fervent and ferocious, the effect is the same.

Christians who refuse to falsify data, steal from the company, or condone the sexual liaisons of a modern working environment can expect to be ridiculed, even despised. Promotions may be bypassed in favour of someone who willingly complies with the world's expectations. I think of a businessman who, when asked to display his product at a prestigious exhibition in London, complied but refused to open his stand on the Lord's Day -- the busiest day of all. Though there was admiration from some, bemusement by others, there was equally a sense of outrage, for the act had appeared to condemn the unprincipled standards of the world. This is part of what we can expect, and Peter warns us not to be surprised when trials of this sort come upon us suddenly (1 Peter 4:12).

God can look sourly, and chide bitterly, and strike heavily, even where and when he loves dearly. The hand of God was very much against Job, and yet his love, his heart, was very much set upon Job... The hand of God was sore against David and Jonah, when his heart was much set upon them. He that shall conclude that the heart of God is against those that his hand is against will condemn the generation of the just, whom God unjustly would not have condemned.
Thomas Brooks, Precious Remedies against Satan's Devices³

It is interesting that the psalmist is the subject of malicious talk. So was John Bunyan. Making his way to a service on horseback in the pouring rain, he noticed a young girl whom he recognized as heading to the same service. In giving her a ride on the horse certain people gossiped, accusing the preacher of impropriety. The tale followed him for many years and was the cause of much distress.

Sadly, tale-bearers are to be found in the church also. It is one reason why James warns us that the tongue is 'a fire, a world of unrighteousness, ... set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell' (James 3:6).

Hostility is, of course, what Jesus experienced: an uncomprehending family, a unsympathetic government, and even friends who betrayed him. Lies and deceit were the cause of his crucifixion. And it is this fact alone -- that in experiencing the hostility of the world we are at the same time -following in the footsteps of our Master -- which strengthens and motivates us to persevere.

ii) The allurement of the world. Complaining as he does that he has lived among the heathen for too long (vv. 5-6), the psalmist seems to raise a quite different problem. The world is more than just hostile and antagonistic to the believer. There is a quite different and far more subtle danger: that of yielding to the world's allurement. One of Satan's ploys is to undermine the believer's holiness by compromising his lifestyle. Believers are to pursue holiness, an internal and external conformity to be like Christ. The constant pressure of the world is such that it prevents this process of change from taking place, and it may be that the psalmist was aware of the world's stamp upon his current lifestyle. The sanctifying effect of rubbing shoulders with other believers had been withdrawn.

It is the eternal purpose of the triune God to conform his people to the image of Christ. No one saw it clearer than Peter, who having failed Christ dismally on several occasions, insisted that believers are chosen 'according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with his blood' (1 Peter 1:2). By way of incentives he adds that God himself is holy and that we are to be like him (v. 15), that Christ died in order to purchase holiness for us (v. 18), and that we must all meet God as our Judge and give an account of ourselves (v. 17). Living a worldly life frustrates the counsels of the triune God whose aim is to purify us and make us like his Son.

Perhaps the psalmist is conscious that the distinctive qualities of holiness are missing from his life. In taking stock of his current spiritual condition he notices the elements of compromise. It is a time of leanness. He thinks about the joy of worshipping God in Jerusalem and he misses it!

It has to be said at once that this is a good sign. People who don't miss spiritual things when they are forcibly kept away for one reason or another are in bad shape. If we can be absent from worship for no good reason and not miss it, we are in a dangerous condition, a hair's breadth away from catastrophe. Why was the psalmist far away from Jerusalem? He may have had a perfectly good reason, but perhaps he had moved there quite deliberately because of some worldly advantage. Perhaps he had entertained the idea that he was strong enough to survive without regular visits to the place of worship. Perhaps, like some Hebrew Christians in the New Testament, assembling together with other believers was something he had begun to regard as unnecessary (Heb. 10:25). Such notions are, of course, quite wrong.

The way of recovery

When we find ourselves in similar circumstances to that of the psalmist, how can we cope? What can we do to remedy the situation? The answer seems to lie in recognizing five important truths.

Firstly, it is important to recognize that an enemy exists. It is always fatal to underestimate the power of an enemy bent on our destruction. The psalmist was not about to make that mistake. His enemy was a liar, one who had declared war. It would be foolish to ignore his threats. It is a lesson that Christians fail to learn to their cost. It is so easy to downplay the threat that the world, or indwelling sin, or the devil himself poses. To pretend that the forces of darkness are inconsequential can prove to be the means of our destruction. In dealing with indwelling sin, for example, Paul assumes that we have recognized our need to deal with sin and that we have the means to do so when he exhorts his readers, 'For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live' (Rom. 8:13).

Secondly, it is equally important to recognize our inadequacy to overcome our enemy. Just as Paul encourages mortification by the power of the indwelling Spirit in Romans 8:13, so the psalmist finds himself unable to cope. He is in 'distress' (v. 1). The Christian life is never easy, and saints down through the ages have confessed their weakness in the face of the enemy. The New Testament warns those who think they are strong, 'take heed lest he fall' (1 Cor. 10:12). Jesus said, 'Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick' (Matt. 9:12).

This leads to a third truth: a recognition that the source of all our hope lies in the power of God. It is in the name of the 'LORD' (v. 1) that the psalmist finds renewed strength and motivation in his melancholy. This is the very name that had enlivened Moses' faith when asked to return to Egypt knowing that a price lay on his head (Exod. 3:15). There is a hymn which includes the lines:

The arm of flesh will fail you,
You dare not trust your own.⁴

George Duffield, Jr,
1818-1888

That is why the psalmist begins with a plea to God to come and help him: 'in my distress I called to the LORD' (v. 1). It is because he has realized his weakness that he cries to the Lord to save and deliver him.

At one point in the psalm he confronts his enemy and warns him of the consequences of his malice. His words of enmity may well have hurt the psalmist, but they are as nothing in comparison with the judgement that this enemy will receive from God. As weapons, the psalmist's enemy has used words, likened to 'sharp arrows' and 'glowing coals' (v. 4; the roots of the 'broom tree' apparently burn well and make good charcoal). These metaphors pick up allusions elsewhere in the Old Testament: 'A man who bears false witness against his neighbour is like a war club, or a sword, or a sharp arrow' (Prov. 25:18); 'A worthless man plots evil, and his speech is like a scorching fire' (Prov. 16:27). In the judgement, the justice of God will see to it that like is met with like: arrows will be met with arrows and fire with fire. Something similar is found in an earlier psalm:

But God will shoot them with arrows;
suddenly they will be struck down.
He will turn their own tongues against them
and bring them to ruin;
all who see them will shake their heads in scorn
(Ps. 64:7-8).

This is what the psalmist does, then, when he finds himself in trouble: he confronts his enemy and tells him what God is going to do! It was David's tactic when confronting Goliath. He said to him, 'You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied' (1 Sam. 17:45). It was also the strength that Gideon gained against the Midianites: 'a sword for the LORD and for Gideon!' (Judg. 7:20). It is for this very reason that the apostle Paul encourages Christians to be strong 'in the Lord and in the strength of his might' (Eph. 6:10). It is the only way to confront the enemy: armed with the power of God!

It is at once a confidence in God's sovereignty and power to which the psalmist has recourse. What does the knowledge of God's sovereignty imply? It implies many things, including the reassurance that his purposes cannot fail (Isa. 46:9-10; Dan. 4:34-35). If God is not sovereign he cannot be God! It was this very truth that helped Job in his trials: 'I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted' (Job 42:2). Even the cruel actions of the psalmist's enemies were part of God's overall plan and purpose -- something that the Bible witnesses to in Job's trials (Job 2:3), as well as in the greatest of all crimes: the death of Christ himself (Acts 2:23). The explanation is given by Joseph, who had himself suffered at the hands of his own brothers' evil intent, 'you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive' (Gen. 50:20).

'From my childhood up,' wrote Jonathan Edwards, 'my mind had been full of objections against the doctrine of God's sovereignty... It used to appear like a horrible doctrine to me. But I remember the time very well, when I seemed to be convinced, and fully satisfied, as to this sovereignty of God... I have often since had not only a conviction but a delightful conviction. The doctrine has very often appeared exceeding pleasant, bright, and sweet. Absolute sovereignty is what I love to ascribe to God.'⁵

Knowing God as the King of our lives is the way out of spiritual melancholy.

Truth number four is that prayer is the key that unlocks the gate to renewed fellowship with God. It appears as though the psalmist had known God's help on many an occasion in the past. The opening verse is a testimony to the benefit of answered prayer: 'In my distress I called to the LORD, and he answered me. Deliver me, O LORD,...' (vv. 1-2). His expectation of God's help now is based on the experience of knowing his help on previous occasions. The way out of his despondency and gloom is to have recourse to prayer. Fellowship with God in prayer is the means by which his strength is renewed.

We are to pray at all times (1 Thess. 5:17). That means that we are to pray at every significant moment, making the most of every opportunity. This is especially good advice when we find ourselves in trouble of any kind. Just as police need constantly to keep in touch with headquarters so that their whereabouts might be known, and that they in turn may pass on information, so the Christian needs to keep in constant touch with the Lord. When Nehemiah sent up an 'arrow-like' prayer when he was asked to explain his demeanour to King Artaxerxes, his instant recourse to prayer at that moment was the result of a habit of disciplined prayer (Neh. 2:1-4; compare 1:4). It is the same here. The psalmist knows from previous occasions that 'prayer works'.

When all things seem against us to drive us to despair
We know one gate is open one ear will hear our prayer.⁶

Prayer is a renewal of fellowship with God. By vocalising the condition of our souls before the Lord we are reminded that he came into this world in the person of Jesus Christ. By prayer we are reminded of our Sin-bearer and Substitute who is able to 'sympathize with our weaknesses' (Heb. 4:15). 'because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted' (Heb. 2:18).

Being serious about his enemy, his need, and God's sovereign power to which he has recourse through prayer, the psalmist finds the beginnings of his release from spiritual depression. The journey which he now takes, a journey that we will follow in these psalms, is one which will lead to the very greatest of spiritual blessings. There is a way out of spiritual depression and it begins by honestly facing up to our present condition. If you find yourself in similar circumstances to the psalmist then begin by acknowledging it. Do more than that! Go and tell God all about it! Tell him everything!

Maybe before we can do that, we need to ask ourselves whether we miss the presence of God in our lives as much as the psalmist did. Perhaps we need to pray first, 'Lord make me thirsty for yourself.' If a bout of spiritual depression will bring you to pray a prayer like that, you will have cause to turn around and thank God for it!

There is one final truth -- the prayer isn't answered! More accurately, it is answered, but not in the way we might have expected. Recognising this -- that God makes us wait for his blessings -- is part of the remedy to despair. The pilgrim remains in a dark place at the end of the psalm, but armed now with fresh resolve. Darkness had brought out some steeliness in soul. In saying, "not yet," God has strengthened him for the harsher battles of life.

For Your Journal...

1. Why are some psalms more appealing to you than others? As you think about this, consider whether an imbalance has crept into your life because you have failed to appreciate the breadth of spirituality expressed in the book of Psalms.

2. Do you know what it means to be discouraged? Are there particular issues that constantly get you down? What are they?

3. If the motto Vincit qui patitur (he who suffers, conquers) is true, how should this affect the way you view your life as a Christian?

4. Have you been absent from corporate worship recently? Are there good reasons for this ab-sence? Is this a sign of backsliding?