Introduction:
We have been considering psalms of deliverance, and this psalm is no different in that respect. But one notable distinction here is that the deliverance seemed late in coming, and the psalmist struggled mightily with that providence. In his struggle, he teaches us how to struggle when we are confronted with anything similar. And we are confronted with many things similar.
The Text:
“I cried unto God with my voice, Even unto God with my voice; and he gave ear unto me. In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: My sore ran in the night, and ceased not: My soul refused to be comforted . . .” (Ps. 77:1–20).
Summary of the Text:
The psalmist divided his own psalm into four parts by means of three Selahs, and it would be good for us to follow those breaks. In the first section, the psalmist pleads with God (vv. 1-3). In the second, he wrestles with himself (vv. 4-9). In the third section, he turns to consider God’s acts in history, most notably His deliverance of Israel at the Red Sea (vv. 10-15). In the fourth section, he paints the colors of this particular deliverance with great vividness (vv. 16-20).
Broken down further, the psalm starts with a cry to God, a cry that was heard (v. 1). We begin by knowing there was an answer. But before we get to that point, we see what a struggle it was. He sought the Lord in his trouble, and his soul refused to be comforted (v. 2). He remembered God, complained and was overwhelmed (v. 3). Selah. He was so troubled that he was dumbstruck (v. 4). He thought about the ancient times (v. 5). He rummaged in his own heart (v. 6). Where did God and His mercies go (vv. 6-7)? Selah. The psalmist owns his own problem, his own infirmity (v. 10). I will remember God’s deeds, he says (v. 11). I will meditate on all of it, and talk about it (v. 12). Learn the greatness of God in the sanctuary, in the corporate worship of God (v. 13). God is a wonder-working God, who works with His own arm (vv. 14-15). Selah. The waters saw what the Egyptians did not see (v. 16). The clouds poured out water, lightning, and thunder (vv. 17-18). God’s way is in the sea (v. 19). God led His people through the hand of Moses and Aaron (v. 20).
Contentment or Apathy?
In his great poem If, Rudyard Kipling once said, “If you can keep your head when all about you/Are losing theirs and blaming it on you . . . You’ll be a Man my son!” To this Jean Kerr once responded, “If you can keep your head when all about are losing theirs, it’s just possible that you haven’t grasped the situation.”
There is a counterpart to these options when coming to understand spiritual contentment. Contentment is not moral stupidity. There is an understanding of God’s grace, mercy, and faithfulness that God wants us to wrestle for. There is a way of asking the questions posed in vv. 3, 7-9 that is blasphemous unbelief, and there is a way of asking them that is God’s instrument for molding a man or woman into a towering saint. It is the difference between whining and conquering. That difference is summed up in v. 3—“I remembered God, and was troubled.” What we do in this must be coram Deo, in the presence of God.
Diligent Search:
In verse 6, Asaph said that his spirit “made diligent search.” He was not trying to get his questions answered in some dilatory way. The verb here reflects the sentiment of our proverb, no stone unturned. Think of the verb ransack, or a man searching for something on his person and he does it by stripping entirely. This is not something that he wants “just a little.”
No Transitory Remembrance:
As already mentioned, in verse 3, he remembered God and was troubled. He did not conclude from this that remembering God was worthless. Rather, he concluded that he needed to remember God in a way that was all in. So he considered the days of old, ancient times (v. 5). He calls a song to remembrance (v. 6). When tormented by his infirmity, he says “but I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High” (v. 10). He will remember God’s works, His wonders of old (v. 11). These are no glancing memories—he meditates on them (v. 12).
A Vivid Deliverance:
Not only does he remember, he does so in color. He has the sound track on this thing turned all the way up. The water was afraid of God. The water was afraid of God all the way to the bottom of the sea. There were torrential rains. The world was lit up by lightning bolts, and the voice of God’s thunder was in the sky. The earth shook, and God walked across the sea, leading His people. How did He lead His people? By the hand of Moses and Aaron (v. 20). This is imaginative remembrance.
The Ways of God:
We learn two remarkable things in this psalm about the “ways” of God. First, His way is in the sanctuary (v. 13). Second, His way is in the sea (v. 19). Do you want to meet with God? To the law and to the testimony! Resort to the sanctuary. Come to church, worship and adore. Partake of the bread and wine. Feed on the proclaimed Word. Read your Bible. Say your prayers. But don’t take this glorious condescension as though it were domestication. The sanctuary is not a box for keeping God in. And we don’t improve the theology of the thing by making it a highly decorated box.
Do you want to follow the paths of God? His footsteps are along the bottom of the Red Sea, marked by all the submerged chariots. His way is across the trackless ocean. His footsteps are unknown—and unknowable. As Luther once noted, God cannot be traced—but, though He cannot be traced, He can be trusted. In fact, this is precisely why He can be trusted.
True worship therefore sees a focal point of the infinite God in the sanctuary, and not a tiny little container. He is not one of our genii and the church is not the bottle. When we worship God we are not “letting Him out.” I think of Ambrose Bierce’s definition of ritualism. “A Dutch Garden of God where He may walk in rectilinear freedom, keeping off the grass.” Rather, in stark contrast to all such idolatry, we meet God in the sanctuary by the appointments of grace only. We see His wonders everywhere else. We can meet Him here only because He meets us. And He does so through the instrumentality of faith.
And when you meet with God in Christ, you meet with God in all things everywhere.