THE TEXT:
Psalm 139
We must learn how to stop doing is the bad habit of dividing the world up into separate compartments. Every aspect of our being—emotional, spiritual, psychological, mental—is occurring in the same created order. All truths that we affirm, whether biological, or theological, or anthropological, are true or false in the same created order. Christ remains your high priest, which means that He still has His resurrected and glorified body. That body is still within this created order, but because He has ascended, He is no longer under the sun. His authority is greater than that.
One of the great problems that secularists have is that they pay no attention to the things they are saying. But this problem is matched and compounded by the fact that we Christians too often pay cursory attention to the implications of the truths we confess. Remember that word implication.
“The Lord said unto my Lord, sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool” (Psalm 110:1).
The introduction to this psalm is quoted numerous times in the New Testament, and in ways that are not in any way ambiguous about what it means. In the gospel accounts, Jesus stumps His adversaries with the question of how David, ancestor of the Messiah, could possibly call his descendant Lord (Matt. 22:44; Mark 12:36; Luke 20:42-43). This verse is quoted to show the greatness of the Christ over all the angels (Heb. 1:13). And the whole glorious consummation is summed up in Acts 2:32-36. God raised Jesus up, with eyewitnesses (v. 32). He was exalted to the right hand of the Father, where He received the Holy Spirit, which He then poured out (v. 33). David didn’t ascend into the heavens, but he did prophesy it—with our text (v. 34). Christ will remain there until His enemies are made His footstool (v. 35). Let all Israel know that this “same Jesus,” the crucified one, has been made both Lord and Christ (v. 36).
One of our central duties in this wicked generation is to set out various doctrines which we confess, lining them up on the table before us. Having done so, we need to stare straight at the central implication.
Jesus of Nazareth is fully God and fully man, a fact we celebrate at Christmas. The hypostatic union of God and man was miraculously accomplished in Him. In this incarnate body, He lived a perfect and sinless life, which He then offered up on the cross as a perfect sacrifice. God showed that the sacrifice was accepted when He raised Jesus from the dead, a fact we celebrate at Easter. Christ ascended into the heavenly places, and in doing this, He did not leave the Incarnation behind—He is still our high priest. “Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us” (Rom. 8:34). He was there given universal dominion (Dan. 7:13-14). A human being, our elder brother, is seated at the right hand of the Father, and will remain there until all His enemies are subdued through the gospel, a fact we celebrate on Ascension Sunday. And last, He poured out His Spirit on Pentecost, which is what enables us to celebrate anything about any of this at all (Acts 2:3-4).
Now I have mentioned that word implications a few times. What are the implications of this? The implication is that the only principle of unity available to man is a unity that is outside the world. This, and only this, is the death knell of anarchy, for tyranny, and for anarcho-tyranny.
Just as the secular mind oscillates between rationalism and irrationalism, so they also veer back and forth between radical individualism and total statism. Not only so, but each bounce on their teeter-totter gives energy to the opposite reaction. When they discover that they cannot hold everything together, they give up and it all disintegrates. But then they discover that they cannot live in such a chaotic world, and so they begin to flail, looking for a principle of unity that is immanent, under the sun, under the control of man. It might be the church, it might be the state, it might be the tribe, it might be some ideology. Whatever they settle on, it is down here, within their reach.
Tyrants want the locus of unity to be within the world, where they can control it. This pipe dream—seen clearly at Babel—was forever destroyed by the Ascension of the Lord Jesus into Heaven. What do we confess? We confess that there is only one possible locus of true unity, and that arche of unity is outside the world, at the right hand of the Father.
“That in the dispensation of the fulness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth; even in him” (Ephesians 1:10).
He ascended into Heaven, and the yearning lusts of all despots (libido dominandi) were thwarted in principle.
The Lord told us plainly that His kingdom is not from this world (John 18:36). If it were, we would be trying to seize power the same way that the worldlings do. But the fact that the Lord’s authority is not from here does not mean that it is somehow impotent here. No, our weapons are mighty for pulling down strongholds (2 Cor. 10:3-5).
The fact that they are defeated does not mean that the secularist lords cannot still be conceited in their humiliation. They still sneer at us. How many regiments do we have? How many nukes? How many flotillas can we assemble?
Our weapons look paltry to them, but that does not distress us at all. It should not even slow us down. The Word of God is not bound (2 Tim. 2:9), and goes forth conquering and to conquer (Rev. 6:2). What do we have? We have word and water, bread and wine, and that is more than sufficient.
What do we have? Christ died and rose, and He reigns from Heaven. Just as they taunted Him to come down from the cross, in the same way they taunt Him to come down from Heaven in order to prove He rose from the dead. But the place where His proofs were ultimately received was the throne room of the Ancient of Days, and that proof was declared sufficient. The risen Christ is Lord.
Many Christian parents are aware of the fact that the outside world is hostile to our faith, and as a consequence is hostile to the approach we must take in bringing our children up in that faith. We are usually aware of the fact of the hostility, but we are frequently unaware of the root of that hostility. What it is that is necessitating such a radical clash? Why is it that everything seems to have come unstuck?
“Therefore be imitators of God as dear children” (Ephesians 5:1, NKJV).
“Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13–14).
One of the central ways that children learn is through imitation. This is natural and is built into the very fabric of the created order. Because God has adopted us as His children, we have been brought into the family and household of God (John 1:13; Eph. 2:19). In our first text (Eph. 5:1), we are told to imitate God as His dearly beloved children. Now we know that, in the very nature of the case, we can never duplicate what God is and does. But we are nevertheless commanded to imitate it. Our imitation of Him should naturally carry over into how we care for our own children. He has children, and we should imitate Him in how He treats them.
Our second text provides us with one point where such imitation will be most fruitful (Ps. 103:13-14). A good father pities his children, and God is just like this also. He too pities His children, showing tender care to those who fear Him. He knows and understands our frame. He is fully aware of our frailty. He remembers that we are but dust. And in just the same way, good and godly parents are sympathetically aware of their children’s frame. Godly parents have sympathy.
So I used the word sympathy just now, and we must begin distinguishing it from the therapeutic uses of empathy. The word sympathy is of ancient use, and it means to “feel together with.” We have a sympathetic high priest in the Lord Jesus, for example. “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling [sympatheo] of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). And we as Christians are commanded to be sympathetic: “Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion [sympathes] one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous” (1 Peter 3:8).
But the word empathy is of relatively recent coinage, and it is used in two ways. One is the man-in-the-street approach, which simply uses empathy as a synonym for sympathy. That’s okay, no bones were broken, and we shouldn’t freak out about it.
However the other use of empathy is the use that is currently destroying Western Civilization, and is filled with toxic hatred of all that is good. As you are bringing your children up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, this is the central threat that your children will face. This is what you must protect them from. It is the central danger.
This is empathy as it is being employed by the therapeutic professionals, and their use has worked its way into our laws, our customs, our HR departments, the media, and our courts. Empathy demands that we feel with others without making any judgments about them or their behavior whatever. Their feelings are to be considered paramount, and no questions asked. And if you do not provide this unconditional empathy, on demand, it must be because you are a hater.
Here is how we may distinguish the two concepts. If a man is drowning in the river, and as he floats by, you throw him a rope, while remaining firmly on the bank yourself, that’s sympathy. If a man is drowning in the river, and as he floats by, you take a header in alongside him so that you might drown together with him, that’s empathy. The difference lies in this—with sympathy, there is an objective solution outside of, and independent of, the person’s feelings. With empathy, those feelings are the only reality that may be considered.
For the sake of clarity, let us call this sort of toxic empathy untethered empathy. But this raises a question. The pathos, the feeling that the person has, is untethered from what? The answer comes at us forcefully, and with the hard and bitter logic of the outer darkness. Feelings, in this understanding, are untethered from absolutely everything else.
This therapeutic heresy, which has insisted on this radical emotional autonomy, has resulted in absolutely incoherent phrases like “my truth.” The demand to untether this way has been a demand, in effect, to “make reality optional.” And it was not long after that when the focus of that coercion shifted and became “make such denials of reality mandatory.” This is the foundation that the pronoun madness rests upon. This is the cornerstone of all the transgender confusion. Take this disordered empathy away, and clown world disappears. Remove the fuel and the fire goes out.
What clown world in its lusts is seeking to detach us from—the fixed nature of absolutes—we as believers must be doggedly intent on embracing. “I cling to Your testimonies; O Lord, do not put me to shame!” (Psalm 119:31). The key word there is cling. All the things the worldlings are jettisoning, we must tether ourselves to. And what is that? Perhaps the word tether is too weak. How about weld?
God is the immutable one. God is a rock and His works are perfect (Dt. 32:4). “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning” (James 1:17). Second, His Word reflects the constancy of His character. “The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: But the word of our God shall stand for ever” (Isaiah 40:8). And third, the objective world reflects the character of God as well. “You who laid the foundations of the earth, so that it should not be moved forever” (Psalm 104:5). God created nature such that it has a nature.
And this is why your child’s feelings must be taught to obey God, to obey His Word, and to obey His world. This is why we must obey our chromosomes. This is why we must disobey the pronoun madness.
If you are distraught in the course of bringing up children in this bedlam, and you have come to see empathy as a ravening monster, which it is, take heart. Your rescuer, your savior, your deliverer from this monster is sympathy. “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with [sympathy for] our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Always remember you have Christ.
This is a short psalm, but it is densely packed with hallelujahs. There are twelve of them here, and one hallelu-el. Together they praise Jah, the covenant God of Israel—Yahweh or Jehovah, and El, the great God Almighty. The longest stretch of words here between any two hallelujahs is four words, with all the rest of the bridges being two words. This conclusion to the Psalter is a great crescendo of praise.
“Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary: Praise him in the firmament of his power. Praise him for his mighty acts: Praise him according to his excellent greatness. Praise him with the sound of the trumpet: Praise him with the psaltery and harp. Praise him with the timbrel and dance: Praise him with stringed instruments and organs. Praise him upon the loud cymbals: Praise him upon the high sounding cymbals. Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord” (Psalm 150).
We have yet another hallelujah psalm, concluding the psalter in a great crescendo. The psalm begins with hallelujah (v. 1), and it concludes with the same word (v. 6). At the very first, we should notice where Jehovah is to be praised in this way. We are to praise Him in the sanctuary first, and in the heavenlies also. Inside the sanctuary and far above the sanctuary—inside and outside. The second thing we do is praise Him for His great deeds down through history. We serve and praise the God of history. He created history in Genesis 1, and He called Abraham in that history, and He delivered Israel through the Red Sea in that history. He took out Sisera in that history, as Deborah sang. Praise Him for His mighty acts (v. 2). These acts of His proceed from His very nature and being, and so we also praise Him for His excellent greatness (v. 2). As the human voice is not strong enough to get the effect we need, we bring in various means of amplification—the trumpet, psaltery and harp (v. 3), with the timbrel, dance, stringed instruments, and organs (v. 4), with loud cymbals and with the high hat (or finger cymbals?) (v. 5). At the end of the psalm, we turn away from loud but inanimate instruments and turn again to the singers. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord (v. 6). Hallelujah.
As we look around at what we offer God in our weekly worship, we can recognize a number of the things mentioned in this psalm. We have singers. We have stringed instruments. We have brass. We have percussion. We have a psalter. Okay, you might be muttering, but where are the dancers? Some of you might be anticipating the point with gladness . . . dancers? Others might be quite worried about it, with furrowed brow. Nobody needs dancing Presbyterians.
One of the principles that arose out of the Protestant Reformation came to be called the regulative principle, which states that if something is not commanded of us in worship, then it is prohibited. This, in distinction from the opposing principle, which is that if it is not prohibited, then it is allowed. “And nobody said that we couldn’t set up a statue of the Virgin Mary in the foyer.” Now I want to argue that all Reformed Christians must be regulativists of some stripe. We say this while rejecting the restrictions of what might be called the strict regulativists—their standard excludes far too much, even for them. They want to exclude any accompanying instruments because pianos aren’t in the New Testament, but they would also have exclude singing out loud—Paul says to sing and make melody in your heart (Eph. 5:19). We would also have to ban women from the Lord’s Supper, along with a number of other oddities and novelties.
Now in this debate there is obviously an interpretive hermeneutical principle involved, because stringed instruments are in the Old Testament. So exactly how does God require certain worship practices of us, and what do we get to bring across from the Old Testament? And if we bring over the stringed instruments, then on what principle do we exclude the dancers? Obviously excluded would be animal sacrifices (as we see through the entire book of Hebrews) and things directly associated with animal sacrifices (burning altars and incense). Remember that the Temple was a slaughterhouse, and the incense dealt with the smell.
Remember that this is a psalm of cosmic praise. It begins with praise in the sanctuary, but it extends to praise outside the sanctuary—praise Him in the firmament of His power (v. 1). The appropriateness of what you are doing depends upon where you are, along with the nature of your culture. There is no indication of any musical instruments in the Mosaic tabernacle. The Tabernacle of David was dedicated to music, and there were various instruments everywhere (1 Chron. 25:1-8). We know that the Temple of Jesus’ day did have a great organ. David danced before the Lord in a religious procession that was not contained within any sacred space (2 Sam. 6:14), and remember that Miriam led the women of Israel to dance beside the sea (Ex. 15). Some of you have gotten close to that spirit at some of our block parties. Synagogues had the shofar (trumpet), but apparently not as a means of accompaniment.
Now the institution of the Christian church brings together elements of all of these—the Temple, the synagogues, but I think centrally the Tabernacle of David. The prophet Amos prophesied the Gentile church under the figure of that tabernacle (Amos 9:11), and at the Jerusalem Council, the Lord’s brother James applied this prophesy to the inclusion of the Gentiles: “After this I will return, and will build again the tabernacle of David, which is fallen down; and I will build again the ruins thereof, and I will set it up” (Acts 15:16). And here we are. “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name” (Hebrews 13:15).
So is dancing excluded then? Not in principle, although other principles must always be remembered. “Let all things be done decently and in order” (1 Corinthians 14:40). In cultures where dancing is woven into everything, there is obviously an easy way to incorporate it into worship fittingly. But even in a place like west Africa, say in Anglican worship, the worshipers dance their way to church, and away from it, but not in the service—although there is still a lot of moving in place. And don’t leave out processionals, whether of a choir, or elders serving the Supper.
But let us return to the theme of true praise. The great acts of Jehovah are not glorified through pious muttering. We need to be loud about it. “Sing unto him a new song; Play skilfully with a loud noise” (Psalm 33:3). “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: Make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise” (Psalm 98:4). We engage with the enemy of our souls through this potent weapon of praise. All evangelism is recruiting for the choir. Our choir members are in the regular army, and all the congregational singing is conducted by the militia. But everyone is in the choir somehow. So praise Him.
In Scripture, praise and true authority always go hand in hand. This is because it is faith that overcomes the world (1 John 5:4), and praise always overflows from the confidence of true faith. Evangelical faith sings at the dinner table, sings behind the wheel, sings at the workbench, sings while going to war, and sings in the assembly of the saints. You are the choir militant, and you have been given a new song indeed. Who is given that new song but the elect of God, the 144,000 (Rev. 14:3)?
“Praise ye the Lord. Sing unto the Lord a new song, and his praise in the congregation of saints. Let Israel rejoice in him that made him: Let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let them praise his name in the dance: Let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp. For the Lord taketh pleasure in his people: He will beautify the meek with salvation. Let the saints be joyful in glory: Let them sing aloud upon their beds. Let the high praises of God be in their mouth, and a twoedged sword in their hand; To execute vengeance upon the heathen, and punishments upon the people; To bind their kings with chains, and their nobles with fetters of iron; To execute upon them the judgment written: This honour have all his saints. Praise ye the Lord” (Psalm 149).
This is yet another hallelujah psalm. It begins with this word (v. 1), and ends with it also (v. 9). Remember our two pieces of bread. The new song is sung before the Lord, and this new song is sung by new men (v. 1). And this is forever because the new birth is the kind of thing that never ages. This is a corporate duty and a corporate pleasure—His praise in the congregation of saints (v. 1). Israel needs to rejoice in the one who made her (v. 2), and the children of Zion must be joyful in their king (v. 2). Praise Him with dance, and praise Him with timbrel and harp (v. 3). The Lord Jehovah does not just put up with this; He takes pleasure in His people (v. 4). He adorns the meek with salvation. He beautifies them (v. 4). Having been thus beautified, the saints are to rejoice in glory (v. 5), and sing aloud on their beds (or couches). They are to sing while at rest, but also to sing while they are going to war (v. 6). The high praises of God should be in their mouth and a double-bladed sword in hand (v. 6). To do what? To execute vengeance on the heathen (v. 7) and punishment on the people (v. 7). In addition, this militant choir binds their kings with chains and their nobles with fetters of iron (v. 8). They are ministers of God’s judgment, and all His saints have this honor (v. 9). And we conclude with another hallelujah (v. 9).
The timbrel is a small hand drum, or tambourine-like instrument. It is in the percussion family, and Miriam and the women of Israel used it when they danced on the shores of the Red Sea. “And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances” (Exodus 15:20). The harp here was not like our modern harp, but was likely closer to a lyre, or even a guitar. Josephus tells us it had ten strings (see Ps. 144:9) and was played with a plectrum (or pick).
We are not fit or worthy to praise the Lord in our own strength or in our own name. In order for us to walk in a manner that is worthy of God (Eph. 4:1; Col. 1:10; 1 Thess. 2:12), we must be made worthy. It is all of grace. It is the same with our praise. In order for our praise to be beautiful enough to offer up to God, God must beautify it first. And He does this by beautifying us. In salvation, God justifies His people, declaring them to be perfect. He beautifies them with the righteousness of Jesus Christ, and in that glorious imputation of the purest righteousness, the end result is that we are equipped to rejoice in glory, and to sing everywhere and in everything.
God has made us in such a way as that we must seek glory. We cannot help seeking glory—it is something that we simply must do. This impulse is not eradicated by the fall, or by the presence of sin. What sin does is distort what we find to be glorious. For the unconverted, they must either seek out dark glory (as satanists and sodomites do), or the must seek out vain glory (as the impotently religious do). When Christians seeking to be faithful come along and react to this by abnegating all forms of glory. But this is Buddhism, or Stoicism, not Christian faith.
What is sin but a failure to pursue glory properly? “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
“Who will render to every man according to his deeds: To them who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life: But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile; But glory, honour, and peace, to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile” (Romans 2:6–10).
Those who want to be saved should be in pursuit of what God tells us salvation consists of. It consists of the beauty of the Lord, the glory of God, and the golden weight of the Spirit’s presence. You cannot pursue salvation without pursuing Him, and He is glorious.
One of the differences between the old covenant and the new has to do with the weaponry. There are still wars and police actions in the time of the new covenant, but this is not how the kingdom is supposed to advance.
“For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;) Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ; And having in a readiness to revenge all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled” (2 Corinthians 10:3–6).
At the same time, the advance of the kingdom does result in tumults, riots, protests, slanders, and more. Just read casually through the book of Acts. But our weapons are mighty, and we reveal that we know that they are mighty when they are wielded by Christians who are singing. As Spurgeon put it, “even the tumult of our holy war is part of the music of our lives.” Let the jangling and clashing in the background serve as an interesting form of percussion.