In Sunday’s sermon, “The Voice of The Lord,” we considered how Psalm 29 tells us to see the God of all power behind a ferocious storm. With vivid poetic imagery, David writes, “The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, . . .The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars; . . .and in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!'” (3-9).

Psalm 29 is like other psalms in its use of nature to communicate the manifold glory of God on display in what He has made. Psalm 8, for example, speaks of “the moon and the stars” as set in place by God’s hand (3), and Psalm 19 speaks of the sun displaying His happiness, as it “runs its course with joy” (5).

With this in mind, these photos from a recent National Geographic photo contest are really pictoral descriptions of the glory of God:

“. . .and in and in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!'” (Psalm 29:9)

HT: Zach Nielsen

In Sunday’s sermon, “No Fear / Know God,” Ryan preached from Psalm 27, addressing at length the subject of fear and worry.

The Psalmist preaches to himself about the goodness of God and the greatness of His salvation, even in, as Ryan put it, life’s “worst-case scenarios.” Though unlikely, God’s salvation is great if even an army were raised up against us. What could be worse than that?

In the course of his sermon, Ryan cited a helpful book on the subject of fear and worry by Ed Welch, Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and The God of Rest. About Psalm 27, Welch writes,

Worry scans the universe looking for more worries to accumulate; it needs to be directed to what is most important.…Beauty is just what worry needs. Worry’s magnetic attraction can only be broken by a stronger attraction, and David is saying we can only find that attraction in God himself. (pp. 152, 154)

Welch warns against the danger of worry and shows how we are transformed from worriers to trusters:

Worry is dangerous. It is not to be trifled with. When you find worries, anxieties, and fears, pay attention. . .

At this point, we know that worry and fear are more about us than about the things outside us. They reveal what is valuable to us, and what is valuable to us in turn reveals our kingdom allegiances. We also know that God is patient and compassionate with us, and he gives grace upon grace. Though alert to our divided allegiances, he persists in calling us away from fear and worry, persuades us of the beauty of the kingdom, and gives more than we can imagine.

With this in mind, his words should sound attractive, and we should be more and more inclined to listen. We should still like to abolish anxieties quickly, but we are learning that God values strong foundations and gradual growth, and such foundations are established as we feed on him and his words. As we meditate on Scripture and make it our own, we should anticipate slow but steady change. Worriers should be experts in a handful of passages. (pp. 95, 147)

To be sure, God is more valuable than anything we could lose in this life, and He works through our troubles to strengthen us in that conviction.

In his Christmas Eve message, “Shepherds Who Follow the Lamb,” Ryan unpacked the rich irony of the gospel found even in the announcement of Christ’s arrival recorded in Luke 2:1-20. God sent angels to deliver a lofty announcement to lowly shepherds about the King of Ages lying in a manger for animals.

Here’s a helpful excerpt from Ryan’s sermon to think on this week:

Maybe the best example of God coming to the lowly is the glorious, angelic announcement of Christ’s birth to shepherds. Just shepherds. No name shepherds. And an angel comes to them, with the most important news of all time. Other angels affirm the announcement with nothing less than loud angelic praise. God did not reveal the birth with a message in a bottle; not a singing bush. But angels and an angelic choir. All that for just shepherds. Not for the town mayor; not key religious leaders; not the influential or persuasive; not the famous or the rich. It was shepherds who got the most elaborate Christmas announcement of all.

God does in deed come to the lowly, and that is good news for all of us.

Click here for a catalog of Christmas sermons preached at DSC.

In Sunday’s sermon, “A Perfect Shepherd for Needy Sheep,” Ryan unpacked a familiar text, Psalm 23. David opens this psalm with the often memorized line, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

One way to think hard about a psalm like this is to think about what life would be like if everything it says were not true. What if we couldn’t say, “The Lord is my shepherd”?

As an exercise in thinking through the significance of Psalm 23, David Powlison wrote this anti-Psalm 23, which Ryan read at the end of his sermon:

I’m on my own. No one looks out for me or protects me.
I experience a continual sense of need. Nothing’s quite right.
I’m always restless. I’m easily frustrated and often disappointed.
It’s a jungle — I feel overwhelmed. It’s a desert — I’m thirsty.
My soul feels broken, twisted, and stuck. I can’t fix myself.
I stumble down some dark paths.
Still, I insist: I want to do what I want, when I want, how I want.
But life’s confusing. Why don’t things ever really work out?
I’m haunted by emptiness and futility — shadows of death.
I fear the big hurt and final loss.

Death is waiting for me at the end of every road,
. . .but I’d rather not think about that.
I spend my life protecting myself. Bad things can happen.
I find no lasting comfort. I’m alone
.. .facing everything that could hurt me.
Are my friends really friends?
Other people use me for their own ends.
I can’t really trust anyone. No one has my back.
No one is really for me — except me.
And I’m so much all about me, sometimes it’s sickening.
I belong to no one except myself.
My cup is never quite full enough. I’m left empty.
Disappointment follows me all the days of my life.
Will I just be obliterated into nothingness?
Will I be alone forever, homeless, free-falling into void?
Sartre said, “Hell is other people.” I have to add, “Hell is also myself.”
It’s a living death, and then I die.

As you know, we’ve been working through the book of Psalms as a church in our series, Pour Out Your Heart to Him.

As Ryan said on Sunday, in God’s good providence, our series has brought us to a set of three psalms that, together, are an especially good fit for Christmas. Psalm 22, 23, and 24 aren’t specifically about Jesus’ incarnation, but they are famous for pointing God’s people forward to Christ. The arrival of Christ in the world inaugurated the fulfillment of each of these Psalms.

• Psalm 22 points forward to Jesus’ death (The cross)
• Psalm 23 points forward to Christ, who is the promised Good Shepherd (The shepherd’s crook)
• Psalms 24 is about the coming King of Glory, who is Jesus (The crown)

So, we’re calling these three messages, The Cross, The Crook, The Crown.

There are some psalms we do well to know well. These are three of them. And each of these psalms and, therefore, each of these sermons will be a good opportunity for bringing a friend or family member to church. For some suggestions on how to take advantage of this season for sharing the gospel, read last week’s post, “Who is Jesus? A Good Time for an Important Question.” And don’t forget to pick up some Invitation Cards for this year’s Christmas weekend services.

In his sermon on Psalm 23, “Has God Forsaken Me?,” Ryan closed his message with a nice summary of what the psalm meant in its original context, how it pointed to and was fulfilled in the event of Christ’s death, and how it can be applied to us:

David felt forsaken by God amidst terrible suffering. He fought against his doubt and despair by recounting God’s ways and faithfulness in the past. He also kept asking God for help. Eventually God answered. But in God’s orchestration David also pointed ahead 1000 years to the coming of the one who would bring the true victory, the final hope, the sure help, and the deepest deliverance. This Jesus, the true Son of David and Righteous King, took on suffering and death by bearing sin. His suffering wasn’t symbolic or hyperbole; it was true and real. He didn’t just feel forsaken by God, but he was forsaken by God because he was bearing sin. But God rescued him; on the third day he rose and now lives forever and ever. Therefore his “gospel” is trustworthy. He did what he came to do, and he did it to the full.

Jesus came to die in our place. He died so that we might live. He was beaten so that we might have peace. He was bloodied so that we might be healed. He was rejected so that we might be accepted. He was despised so that we might be loved. He was forsaken so that we might be received. He suffered so that we might be comforted. He took on judgment so that we might be declared righteous.

He welcomes us to come to him, be saved, be reconciled, to join in worship, and to join him in his plan for spreading his glory in this world. So now when we feel forsaken, when we feel like he doesn’t hear us, we can trust him. He answers prayer, even if in His timing. His timing is perfect. His plan is sure. And one day all suffering and doubt and despair will be wiped away completely, for those who are His. It’s not done yet, so we still grope after Him; we still fight away our doubt and despair. We do that by learning from David’s model in Psalm 22, but also by seeing the fullest reality of Psalm 22 in the cross of Christ.