“I have come to believe the Psalms of Ascents (Psalm 120-134) can be a great source of help for the modern church. We, ever increasingly, live in a time where we must embark on a pilgrim lifestyle. This different brand of life needs philosophies and anthems to abide by, and I believe these psalms provide the required help. Because of this, I have written a book on these psalms and will release a chapter every three weeks from May 2019 through February 2020. Each entry will expound on each psalm in order. Since these posts are rather lengthy, I encourage you to take whatever time you need to set aside to digest them. My prayer is for these studies to enrich you significantly on your sojourn with Christ. Thank you for reading, listening, and sharing.”
Obtain a Calm and Quiet Soul (Psalm 131)
I had an experience recently that illustrates the truth of our next song. As a runner, I sometimes enjoy heading to a local school to run their track. There, I must decide which lane to run in. The unwritten rule is that the slower runners take the outside “walking” lanes, while the faster runners run on the inside lanes. On this particular day, I chose lane three. I figured I was in the faster half, but the slowest of that group.
After running for a few minutes, an older gentleman showed up to the track. He wasn’t wearing the customary running gear, rather just a pair of khakis. Sure enough, he was a slower runner and chose lane six, the outside lane. He walked and jogged his way around the track.
After a few more minutes, I began to wonder if I had selected the correct lane. I was, after all, moving significantly faster than my new friend. I remained in lane three, however, and I’m glad I did because a few minutes later a bonafide lane one runner arrived. He had that sprinter’s look, all muscle, and when I watched him take a little warm-up jog before his workout began I realized just how fast he was. His warm-up was my most strenuous sprint. He proceeded to lane one and passed me, often, in lane three. I was glad I had stayed in my chosen lane.
One of the greatest secrets of the Christian life is knowing — and staying in — the lane God has for you. To embrace your gifts (your circumstances and knowledge level) is tantamount to growth. Too many believers concentrate on wishing they were great for God. The disciple learns to accept only what God has for them. This song sings of that theme.
Our pilgrim has learned to humbly walk with God, to keep his mind where it ought to be, not allowing an exalted view of the self. The song is short, but the lessons within take a lifetime to learn.
Practice Humility
"O LORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me." (Psalm 131:1)
One of the first questions we might ask about this song regards the nature of it. David seems to boast a little. He declares his humility. We might wonder if this is pharisaical boasting.
Jesus rebuked the spirit which said, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers…” (Luke 18:11). Is David not doing the same, declaring his righteousness? Does his claim of humility cancel our humility?
We must remember the situation David was in. From the start, his motives were under question. His oldest brother, Eliab, spoke what Saul and his enemies (and even his sons) thought, “I know the evil intention of your heart!” David was in a state of constant examination. He was a man judged. This statement and song may have been a defense of his inner character. He may have been pushed to a trifling of self-defense by his accusers.
Additionally, it is kind of the Holy Spirit to give us the inner workings of David’s heart, for, though we might have guessed at his humility, it is wonderful to see it in black and white. Moses — under the inspiration of the Spirit — wrote to us of his meekness. We are helped by the Spirit’s honesty, for Moses was a great man and leader. It is instructive to know of his inner thoughts.
David, likewise, was a great man. He was a giant-killing, princess-marrying, prince-befriending, war-winning king. He was a poet and warrior and leader of the highest degree. Do not all men like this succumb to the inner battle with pride? David shows us — though many do — all do not.
His announcement, in this song, is wonderful. He confessed to God that his eyes had not gone “too high,” that he did not occupy himself with “things too great and too marvelous.” This is not a perspective one hears every day, especially from someone as accomplished as David, let alone on the streets of western culture.
Temptations
All people experience common temptations, for “no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man” (1 Corinthians 10:13). There is nothing you are tempted to do that someone else hasn’t already done. Temptations are common. But various cultures and societies do seem to cultivate specific temptations until they become an acceptable part of society.
One culture might cultivate an objectification of women until it becomes an acceptable norm. Another culture might cultivate greed until it becomes an acceptable norm. In the west, especially in the United States, we seem to have cultivated self-made pride to the point that it’s become the norm. We have embraced an ungodly ambition that says, “there is nothing I cannot do, cannot accomplish, or cannot understand. Nothing is too high or great or marvelous for me. I can do all things.”
But David’s confession stands in contrast to that spirit. Some things were too high, too great, and too marvelous. The giant-killer had his limits.
So, one one hand, the disciple is to humble out and take a lower view of himself. But we often struggle to do so. We weigh in on the world’s problems, offering our surefire solutions while forgetting there is a sovereign God who is bringing the world to a place of resolve. We pontificate about friends and family members, knowing exactly how they ought to live their lives. But we’ve never lived even a minute of their lives, so how can we be so sure? We bring our little experiences to the Bible and declare which doctrines we like and how we understand them. We walk around like master theologians who have put God in our little box.
Are you a five-star general who knows what to do about the growing threats throughout the world? Are you a master family therapist who knows how all the people in your life ought to live? Are you an impeccable head of state who knows what diplomatic processes ought to be initiated or cultivated? Are you an articulate philosopher, master theologian, and brilliant scholar blended into one?
Harmony
Paul told us to “live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your sight” (Romans 12:16). He seems to have clustered all these concepts together in the knowledge that living “in harmony with one another” — a utopian joy — is contingent upon humility. In other words, the surest way to break harmonious living in the church is to “be wise in your sight.”
Yes, the disciple confesses there is much that is too high for him, too marvelous for her.
We know there are problems in the world we cannot solve. There are people we cannot fix. There are levels of brokenness we know little of what to do with. There are theological questions we cannot fully answer. The mysterious ways of God are on full display. He is unlimited. We, meanwhile, have our limits.
Be content with you. There are gifts and callings and abilities you will never have. The Spirit distributes gifts individually as He wills (1 Corinthians 12:11), not as we will. He has a plan for us. We ought to embrace that lane and run as fast as we can inside it.
Uzziah, a great king of Judah, stayed in his lane for most of his life. Unfortunately, he became intoxicated by his successes and, rather than humbly attribute them to God, began to want more than God had for him. He demanded the priesthood, wanting to offer incense to God as the priests did. But the priesthood was not his lane. The priests confronted him, but he confronted them right back! In his obstinance, he forced the hand of God, who struck him with leprosy from that moment onward to the day of his death. He likely went to his grave confessing, “I should have remained in only the calling God had for me. Why did I lift my eyes to things to high and great and marvelous for me?”
All this does not cancel out the divine aspirations believers ought to carry into life. We are not a people who take life lying down. With the Spirit of Christ in us, we are fighters. Like David, we want everything God has for us. But we want nothing more than that, and we don’t need it for our glory. We only want what He has. We crave sanctification and fruitfulness and spiritual victories. But — all the while — we long to say, “I have not raised my eyes too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.”
Grow in Contentment
"But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me." (Psalm 131:2)
But our song is not through, for an analogy must burst forth to help us understand this humility. It is humility which leads to contentment with God alone. “Like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me,” goes the song.
The line might conjure up peaceful images of satiated babies who have had their fill of food and rest, gently in their mother’s love. But this line of the song is not one of peace, but one of war. It does not say, “like a full and fed and happy child with its mother,” but “like a weaned child.”
Weaning
The weaning process is a difficult one for the child (and the mother) to endure. Something good — the mother’s milk — is removed from the child for maturity’s sake. But no child has ever thought, “I know, I need to grow up, and this weaning process is really good for me.” No! The child objects, kicking and screaming all the way through.
This struggle is all the more pronounced when considering the ancient Eastern culture this psalm came out of. During modern, Western times, many choose to wean their children within the first couple of years of life. But in ancient Israel, children were weaned at three, four, or five years of age. Toddlers, more verbal and expressive than their younger counterparts, can rebuff their mother’s desire to wean them in a myriad of ways. There is no temper-tantrum too small.
So what our psalm uses, as an illustration, is a child who has been refused his desire, but who has come out on the other side. Of course, weaned people never want to go back; they’ve moved on to real food. They never look back fondly upon the days of breast milk. They’ve graduated. They are mature.
The picture of the weaned child is an excellent one for Christian maturity. There are plenty of things we thought we needed to be satisfied, but God takes us through a process of weaning where we figure out it is only Him we truly need. Think of it: everything in life, except God, is transitory for the believer. This world, our relationships, our health — nothing remains the same forever. It all changes. Only God remains the same. If we are ill-equipped for those shifts and changes then every shift will be a catastrophe. God, in His grace, weans us so that we’ll become more contended with Him and Him alone.
The stuff we thought we had to have — things we pitched little fits over — are to grow less desirable as the years of walking with Christ tick by. The song might include being weaned from sin, but a mother’s milk is not a good picture of sin, for it is a good thing that must be replaced by a better thing. Sin is no good thing. Our song deals more fully — not with sin — but with decent things that have clouded our view of our Lord. God’s heart is to give Himself — a better food which satiates us more than decent food.
Maturity
Maturity comes as the believer looks to God more and more — and everything else less and less — for satisfaction. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights” (James 1:17). As the disciple grows, they discover all they need comes from God. Everything He deems as a good and perfect gift He will give. All He doesn’t see as good and perfect He will refrain from giving. Sometimes the gifts overtake the giver, but the Christian life is to take us into a deeper appreciation of the Father of lights, the giver of every good and perfect gift.
The man or woman who can sing “like a weaned child is my soul within me” has a massive treasure. Our world clamors and twists and turns to gain happiness, but this person has found contentment. Paul was one such man. He had discovered the deep mystery, the ancient secret, of contentment. He had learned to be content in every situation, including imprisonment and impending death. From this contented and weaned place, he would write, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11-13). A content man is a powerful man.
Like a good mother, God is willing to take us through the weaning process. The mother struggles to push their child to grow up into maturity; it is not always an enjoyable experience. Her task is troublesome at times, but she embraces it, and so does God. He is willing to patiently walk through our screaming and yelling and telling him, “I needed that! Why didn’t you give it to me?” Our little fits of rage and immaturity are foreknown to Him. He is ready. But with great dedication and care God is ready to cut off that which we need to grow up from.
On the night Jesus was betrayed, He spoke to His disciples about the vineyard. “I am the vine. You are the branches,” He said. We are connected to Christ. His life must flow into ours. But He then said, “My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:2). Pruning is weaning. The Father is willing to cut back good and healthy things to bring us to a place of stronger potency, greater fruitfulness.
He goes about this work enduringly throughout our entire lives. Next time you experience feelings of emptiness, consider them. Perhaps those feelings aren’t meant to be remedied but analyzed. Why does emptiness exist? After all the purchases or people or experiences you’ve pursued, why does an emptiness still exist? Perhaps God is attempting to wean you, to bring you to a place of less need, fuller maturity, for a greater diet.
Pruning
The next time you experience feelings of loneliness, consider them. We often turn to people, even if only temporarily, to solve our need for connection, friendship, or companionship. But perhaps God is teaching, pruning, maturing. Next time you experience feelings of anger over something trivial, consider them. Perhaps God is trying to show you the small little thing you’ve obsessed over. Maybe He’s trying to help you see how it could never lead to your satisfaction.
I’ll never forget the time I was asked to give up one of the greatest blessings of my life at the time. It happened during a particularly dark time of trial. The trial coincided with great fruitfulness in a ministry I was leading for young-adult people. Every week we gathered, and every week the Spirit moved. That group, that ministry, was like an oasis, a place of refuge in my dry and thirsty soul, every week. My pastor, however, had sought the Lord on my behalf. He shared with me how he thought it was time for me to let the group go, to move on. For the life of me, I could not understand. Didn’t he see how much that group needed me? And how much I needed that group? But I knew such attitudes carried prideful self-importance within them. So I submitted. That pruning and weaning process was hard, but I look back now on the greater and deeper fruit and joy that came from that simple decision. I am still reaping the benefits of that hard decision.
Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Mark 10:15). Christ has not invited us into childishness, but childlikeness, one where we simply follow and trust him. This is where we accept the lane He’s given us and run in it. Where we embrace everything He has for us, but nothing more. This is the contented place of a calmed and quieted soul.
Encourage One Another to Do Likewise
"O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore." (Psalm 131:3)
The song ends with a community-wide exhortation because every woman and man stand to benefit from this level of humility and contentment. But not only the individuals, but the entire community gains grace and health when the individuals inside it choose to humbly embrace the lane God has for them. As we all quiet and calm our souls before God, allowing Him to carefully extract us from that which we no longer need, the community is blessed. We are all to allow God’s steady maturing of our desires; this leads to great health.
The exhortation is for today and tomorrow — “from this time forth and forevermore.” You can look back to your yesterdays and find ways you were proud, unwilling to stay in your lane, and filled with ungodly ambition. You might remember various ways you screamed and kicked and pitched a little fit about all you needed God to do for you. As healthy as it might be to remember those moments, you cannot change them. Yesterday has been fixed. It has been written. But today and tomorrow and forever are all filled with opportunity. They can be days of great humility, coming under the plan of God for your life specifically. The years beyond provide us a great opportunity to allow God to grow and mature our desires.
Will I allow the years beyond to be years of weaning? Will I let God shape and cut and grow my heart? Again, what infantile desires might God attempt to wean you from? How might He be working in your heart and life?
Paul wrote, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways” (1 Corinthians 13:11). Each of us can look back with laughter on the mindset we carried during our childhood. Think of the dreams you had as a little boy or girl. What did you dream adulthood would be like? What fanciful idea did you have of yourself? Smile at the silliness of some of those desires.
Now, consider, in another twenty years will you smile and laugh in the same way about the desires you have today? You see, we laugh at our childhood thoughts, but take our thoughts today so seriously. But, perhaps, today’s thoughts must also be brought into a fuller maturity. Perhaps God is taking us from glory to glory, purging and pruning us from good things to bring us to great things. Perhaps He has a lane that is beautiful and glorious, and perhaps He’s trying to help us stay in it.