Songs of Summer 6 – Be Still!

To the chief musician. A psalm of the sons of Korah. A song for Alamoth. > God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, though the waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling. Selah... God is in the midst of her. She shall not be moved... Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

When the whole world seems to be shaking, where do you turn for shelter and strength?

The Difficulty of Stillness

We are constantly tempted to be afraid, to be tossed to and fro by all the crazy things going on in the world. How do we maintain peace in the midst of that storm? Psalm 46 shows us how.

Although it is promoted and practiced by many religious faiths, one of the most difficult religious exercises for many American Christians, including myself, is not sacrifice or giving, prayer or devotion—it's silence and stillness and solitude. I have a hard time with silence and stillness. Solitude I'm fine with—I can be alone—but I'm what you might call a bouncer. Not the kind in front of a club, but the kind who, when sitting down, can't stop the foot from going. As a kid, my mom would put her hand on my leg and say "stop," and then the other one would start. I just can't sit still. If I'm studying or reading, I have to have music going or I get distracted by the silence.

Stillness and silence are esteemed even within Christianity. It's even come back as a fad—for a price you can climb into a pitch-black tank with ten inches of super-salty water and earplugs and float in sensory deprivation. For most Americans, that sounds like a nightmare. And many Christians who love stillness come to this very Psalm because there's a verse near the end that touches on it. A lot of people point to it as an important component of faith.

Who Are the Sons of Korah?

This Psalm is different from most we've studied. So far in our series most were written by David, a king of Israel who lived about 3,000 years ago. But this one comes from the sons of Korah. Who are they?

The sons of Korah descend ultimately from Levi. In Genesis, God called Abraham, who had Isaac, who had Jacob, whose name God changed to Israel. Israel had twelve sons who became the twelve tribes, and one of them, Levi, became the priestly tribe given to serving the Lord. Levi had a son Kohath, who had Izhar, who had Korah—so we read of the sons of Korah in the tribe of Levi.

Unfortunately, these men became notable for a tragic event in Numbers 16. At a certain point the sons of Korah decided they did not care for the leadership of Moses, and they started a mutiny. In rebelling against Moses they actually rebelled against God, who had set Moses in his place. God dealt with it swiftly: the ground opened up and swallowed the leaders of the rebellion and the 250 men who followed them. So a worship-leader rebellion is not new—it goes all the way back to Numbers 16.

Yet by the time of 2 Chronicles, hundreds of years later, the sons of Korah came to be associated with praise and worship in the temple. They penned not only Psalm 46 but Psalm 42 and others. The heading also says this is "a song for Alamoth." Commentators disagree—some say it was written for a choir of sopranos, while Charles Spurgeon and others believe it was written for a specific high-pitched instrument. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter much. Let's look at the meat of the text.

God Is Our Refuge

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Notice that God does not merely create a place of shelter—He is a place of refuge, a protection from the storm. These worshipers don't write that God is the shelter, as though He were the only one people run to; they write that He is our refuge among all the things people might run to. He is the best one, and therefore He should be your refuge.

Second Samuel 22:31 says, "This God, his way is perfect. The word of the Lord proves true. He is a shield for all those who take refuge in him." There are other shields people run to, but He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him.

Point one: You must choose to take refuge in the Lord. Among all the things available for shelter in the storms of life—not thunder and rain, but the storms every one of us experiences—the Psalmist says the Lord is our refuge. He is the one we turn to in the midst of that storm.

Where Do You Find Strength?

He is also our strength. Where do you turn to find strength, for refreshing in this world? We all know the things that sap our strength. You might say, "If I could just get away from this hectic job, this dirty house, these whiny children, this nagging spouse—if I just had more money, more time, less responsibility, less stress—I could find strength." There are all kinds of things that drain us emotionally, spiritually, and physically. And even if you got rid of one of them, something else is waiting in the wings. That's life.

In 1 Samuel, David had been anointed king while another king, Saul, still sat on the throne. Saul began to hunt David in the wilderness to kill him. Meanwhile Saul was failing as king, so David, on the run, also had to defend the nation from its enemies. At one point, while David and his mighty men were away fighting one enemy, another enemy raided their camp, burned it, and took their wives and children captive. The men came back to find everything destroyed, and they turned on David. First Samuel 30:6 says, "Now David was greatly distressed"—an understatement—"for the people spoke of stoning him."

But the verse doesn't end there: "But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God." Notice it doesn't say merely "the Lord God," but "the Lord his God."

Point two: The Lord must be your God for you to experience His strength. God is mighty and strong—we call Him the Almighty—but you will only experience His strengthening if He is the Lord your God.

My Grace Is Sufficient

This isn't only an Old Testament truth. In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul described being hard pressed on every side, so burdened that he despaired even of life. He came to a vital conclusion in 2 Corinthians 3:5: "Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything as being of ourselves." We must come to recognize the poverty of our own strength. Jesus said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." But Paul didn't stop there: "but our sufficiency is of God."

In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul had a great burden upon him. Three times he begged the Lord to take it away, and God said no. Maybe you're in that place—you've pled, "God, take it away," and it isn't going away. But God said, "My grace is sufficient for you... my strength is made perfect in weakness." God needs us to come to the right recognition that of ourselves we can do nothing, but we can do all things through Him who gives us strength.

If everything seems to be closing in and it's not going away, collapse into the arms of Jesus. He says in Matthew 11, "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

A Very Present Help

God is our refuge, our strength, and "a very present help." He's not distant, as we're tempted to think in difficulty. Sometimes when you don't need help, there's plenty of it—someone offers to help you lift something and you say, "No, I've got it." At Home Depot, when I know exactly what I want, fifty people in orange aprons ask if I need help. But when I have no clue what I need or where it is, I can't find an orange apron anywhere.

Notice what the Psalmist says: a very present help in trouble. When we need Him—at the right time, in the right way. And this promise is only for those who have chosen to take refuge in the Lord. "Therefore," because He is our refuge and strength, "we will not fear." It's not a maybe but an absolute expectation.

No Fear, Even of Cataclysm

And the fear he reflects upon isn't casual concern over an unexpected bill or alarm at a sudden noise. It's real, cataclysmic, severe trial: "even though the earth be removed and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, though the waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling. Selah." That word Selah is a meditative pause—essentially, "think about it."

The Psalmist pictures total cataclysm—essentially the trailer for Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson's San Andreas. The earth removed and cast into the sea; California falling into the Pacific. If God is your refuge and strength, you don't have to fear even that. The thing you worry about constantly—that thing that will probably never happen—you don't have to fear it if God is your refuge.

According to studies, the number one fear people in America have isn't death—it's public speaking. Death is number two. That means at a funeral you're better off in the casket than giving the eulogy. But as life goes on, death becomes the primary fear. And yet Hebrews 2:14 says that since the children share in flesh and blood, Jesus likewise shared in the same, "that through death he might destroy him who had the power of death, that is the devil, and release those who through the fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage."

Point three: In Christ there is no fear, even of death.

The City of God

How is that possible? Look at verse 4: "There is a river whose streams shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High. God is in the midst of her. She shall not be moved. God shall help her just at the break of dawn." The Psalmist turns from cataclysm to stillness and calm—a flowing river bringing joy to the city of God, where God dwells, protects, and provides.

Most commentators say this city is Jerusalem, but I have problems with that. Jerusalem had no river—the nearest is twenty miles away and 4,000 feet lower, an oddity since ancient cities were usually built by great rivers. More importantly, this is a city that will never be moved, yet Jerusalem has been sacked, destroyed, and rebuilt more than 27 times. If that's your peace and safety, you've got issues.

I suggest the city of God is the heavenly city, the kingdom of God where He dwells. The Psalmist sees natural disaster that would terrify the strongest of men—and then says, but there is this city of God, real and tangible, where there is peace and joy, and God protects it day by day. The New Living Translation says, "from the very break of day, God will protect that city."

Our Hope Is Not in This World

Point four: The Christian's hope and home are not in this world. Put a star and an exclamation point next to that. Your eternal home is not here. Everything in this world will shake and totter and fall. If your refuge, strength, and protection is in the things of this world—your stock market account, your 401k, your job, education, family, or politics—then when those things shake, you will shake too, and you will fall.

In Hebrews 11, God speaks of Abraham, who followed God by faith "because he looked for a city which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God." Because his hope was a heavenly city, when things didn't go as he expected, he did not turn back. How many of you began following the Lord with expectations that didn't come out the way you thought? If you were looking for an earthly city, you'd have cause to return. But Abraham looked for the heavenly one—"therefore God is not ashamed to be called his God."

The Nations Rage

The Psalmist moves from nature to nations: "The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved." This world is in constant chaos. Jesus said the same in the Olivet Discourse (Matthew 24): nation will rise against nation, kingdom against kingdom; there will be wars and rumors of wars—the beginning of sorrows. That's the world we live in—natural cataclysm and national upheaval. But in the midst of it, "there is a river... God is in the midst of her. She shall not be moved." He is sure and steadfast, and that is my hope and home—not Washington, not Wall Street.

Then notice: "He uttered his voice, the earth melted." This is prophetic. Peter speaks of it in 2 Peter 3:10—"the day of the Lord will come... the heavens will pass away with a great noise, the elements will melt with fervent heat, and the earth and the works thereof will be burned up." Nevertheless, verse 13: "we, according to his promise, look for a new heaven and a new earth in which righteousness dwells." There is coming a day when God will say from heaven, "Stop!" and establish His kingdom, as we've prayed for twenty centuries: "Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

Be Still and Know

"The Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our refuge." Think about it. He is not moved by the shaking of Wall Street or the Chinese markets, by ISIS or Iran, by the White House or Congress or even the Supreme Court. Nor is He taken by surprise, as if heaven were caught off guard.

"Come behold the works of the Lord, who has made desolations in the earth, who makes wars to cease to the end of the earth, who breaks the bow and cuts the spear in two. He burns the chariot in fire." He destroys the instruments of war. This is prophesied in Jeremiah, Isaiah, and Micah—they will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks—a great time of peace when He utters His voice from heaven.

Then verse 10: "Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth." Most Christians see this as a call to calm down. There's some application in that, but it's not the interpretation here. This is God speaking from heaven to the raging nature and nations. It is a command—a "stop." There is coming a day when God will utter from heaven, "Stop." And a second time the Psalmist says, "The Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our refuge."

Don't Be Shaken

Point five: Don't be shaken by the stirring of the world. God is on the throne. If your heart is quaking because of natural disasters or national upheaval, it's an indication that an idol is vying for the throne of your heart—and that idol needs to be cast down.

If there are people—news anchors, AM talk-show hosts—speaking that fear into your life, you need to cut it off. I'll get letters for this, but if Rush Limbaugh is your prophet, you've got issues—or Sean Hannity, or NPR, or MSNBC, or Fox News, or CNN, or BBC. I don't care what spectrum you're on. If it's speaking quaking and fear into your life rather than simply informing you, cut it off. I did the test myself—I cut it off a long time ago, and I got so much happier. People say, "You don't know what's going on." I know plenty: the devil is still wicked, the world is still falling, and Jesus is coming back. And I'm good with that, and I've got work to do until He comes.

God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. Don't be shaken by the stirring of the world. God is on the throne.

Closing Prayer

Father, I know I need that word today. There have been waves of things coming the last weeks and months, trying to get my eyes off of you, the city of God, and to make me fearful and in turmoil. And yet Jesus, you said, "Let not your heart be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, that where I am, there you may be also." God, help me to keep that in mind constantly, and to keep you on the throne of my life, because you are the protector, the refuge, the strength, the very present help in trouble. Thank you for your help. Help me to trust you this week. We praise you and thank you, in Jesus' name. Amen.