The Water of Life

In this, now only our second week of this study of the Psalms, I would have you turn to Psalm 42. And that may seem odd or out of place. After all, I just preached Psalm 1 last week, and you may have supposed that we were going to go into Psalm 2. But I tried to tell you last week that it was not going to be my intention just to plow through 1 through 150. Our approach is going to be to take them book by book in sequential order.

And since the second book of the psalm starts at Psalm 42, this is our psalm this morning. And incidentally, I should prepare you for the next several weeks as well. Book three starts at Psalm 73. Book four starts at Psalm 90, and book five starts at Psalm 107. So that means that we will be following that particular pattern for the foreseeable future.

So Psalm 42, and as a brief introduction to this familiar and beloved Psalm, I would begin by saying that it differs greatly from Psalm 1. Psalm 1 is essentially an orphan psalm. The mystery surrounds its authorship and even its collection, how we came to possess Psalm 1.

But Psalm 42, it declares upfront that it was compiled by the sons of Korah, not written by the sons of Korah, but gathered and compiled into a body of psalms. Psalm 1, Psalm 1 is a contrast between the wicked and the righteous. Psalm 42 is very different in that it is a dialogue between the believer and his God. Psalm 1 is one of the great majority of Psalms that addresses God as Jehovah or Yahweh. Psalm 42, on the other hand, is one of the more than 40 psalms that addresses God as Elohim.

Psalm 1 is not a particular kind of psalm, and yet Psalm 42 is declared clearly as a masculine, a contemplative psalm, a psalm where we were designed to meditate. upon it. Well, aside from those differences between these two psalms, Psalm 1 and Psalm 42, I should tell you that this psalm has historically been blended together with Psalm 43. There are many such psalms.

Some have indeed been blended, and some have been separated out again. One of the hints of The fact that these are two Psalms, pardon me, that these two Psalms were once one is the refrain that occurs in verses five and 12. Why are you in despair, oh my soul? That same refrain is repeated again in verse five of Psalm 43. There is also no formal introduction of Psalm 43 like there is in 42. We will take these two Psalms, however, separately, just as they are in our Bibles. If you would, Psalm 42. As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.

When shall I come and appear before God? My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, where is your God? These things I remember and I pour out my soul within me. For I used to go along with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God. with the voice of joy and thanksgiving, a multitude-keeping festival. Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him for the help of his presence. O my God, my soul is in despair within me.

Therefore, I remember you from the land of the Jordan and the peaks of Hermon from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the sound of your waterfalls. All your breakers and your waves have rolled over me. The Lord will command his loving kindness in the daytime, and his song will be with me in the night.

A prayer to the God of my life, I will say to my rock, why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As a shattering of my bones, my adversaries revile me while they say to me all day long, where is your God? Why are you in despair, oh my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him. the help of my countenance and my God.” As I mentioned, this is a very personal psalm, not a general one like Psalm 1. In this psalm, there are really only two characters.

Certainly others are mentioned. The throng that he mentions, worshipers whom he once led in procession to the house of God, verse 4. Detractors are mentioned as well. The enemy, he says, verse 9. His adversaries, verse 10. But for the most part, this psalm is between him and his God. Throughout the interaction, the psalmist’s soul is in dialogue. It is the believer reduced to his most basic element, his soul, who cries out to God. 10 times he makes reference to God, calls out to him directly by name Elohim, three times by a shortened version of that name, El, and once he speaks of him as Yahweh or Jehovah.

The prevailing theme of both Psalm 42 and 43 is really a complaint from exile. He’s being held captive against his will, and the psalmist expresses and articulates a strong desire to return home, a longing for his former place of worship, and even perplexity as to how God could allow this exile. As such, there have been many suggested titles for Psalm 42, the panting soul, Nathaniel Coverwell, 1652. The Dejected Soul’s Cure, Christopher Love, 1657. Another one has it as Medicine for a Fainting Soul. I love that one. John Colling, in 1690.

One commentary presented as longing for Zion in a hostile country. And I would even suggest to you that it’s very possible that verse one functions as a title for Psalm 1. As the deer pants for the water brooks, though my soul pants for you, O God. As far as the structure of the psalm, it can clearly be neatly divided into two very near portions, verses one through five and verses six through 11. In the first portion, we have the souls lament before God. In the second portion, beginning in verse six, we have the souls lament to God.

I mentioned a moment ago that this is a psalm that was compiled by the sons of Korah. If Korah sounds familiar, he should. Korah and his sons were Levites, priests, and as such, they were keepers of the threshold, the entrance of the tabernacle. They were to keep watch over that entrance. Unfortunately, Korah also became the ringleader of 250 rebellious men who rose up against Moses and Aaron, you might recall.

God judged them by opening up the earth and swallowing them up. Moses, writing in Numbers 26, goes out of his way to exonerate Korah’s sons by saying that when Korah died, the sons of Korah did not die. For his sons were spared by the sovereign mercy of God, and they returned that kindness by beginning to compile psalms of praise to God. Let’s begin by looking at the soul’s lament before God. As the deer pants for the water brooks. So my soul pants for you, O God.”

Psalmist begins with a lament, a complaint, really. Whether it was an audible grumbling, or a muttered protest, or even just an internal trouble in his soul, there is a graphic description here of this feature in the opening verses. It’s a panting brought on by severe thirsting. He’s parched.

The image that the psalmist uses is at once one of the most familiar and relatable in all the Psalms. As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for you, O God. The writer employs a very understandable image from nature. A wild animal, in this case a deer, weary and thirsty, from running, perhaps going days without water. The prophet Joel employs this same illustration.

Joel 1.20, from even the beasts of the field pant for you. For the water brooks are dried up and fire has devoured the pastures of the wilderness. Joel paints a picture of a season of drought and fire. Whatever the cause, though, the creature of Psalm 42 has been brought to a point of desperation with regard to water. The panting, we know, serves to cool the thirsty doe’s body. But it’s an audible heaving, heaving of the lungs in anxious search for the absolutely crucial water. The sons of Korah gathered in another song that echoed this theme.

Oh God, you are my God. I shall seek you earnestly. My soul thirsts for you. My flesh yearns for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So thirst is a very effective picture of referring to the child of God’s separation from God for whatever reason.

Note, the psalmist refers to his soul as the portion of his being that desires God. The soul is the immaterial, the spiritual and eternal portion of our being. And here our desires and our feelings are cultivated and maintained. So when the writer says here, my soul pants for you, thirsts for you, he communicates that the most vital relationship of all, his relationship with God, has been interrupted, and he is therefore incomplete. There is this intense longing for a return from exile, for a reinvigoration of his relationship with God.

Jesus himself essentially uses this same metaphor in John chapter four, the woman at the well, remember? In that incredible scene, while Jesus engages with the woman, a Jewish man conversing with a Samaritan woman, He asked her for a drink of water, and when she balked at his request, he challenged her, if you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, give me a drink, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.

And when she doubted even that, Jesus answered and said to her, everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again. But whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst. But the water that I will give him will become a well of water springing up to eternal life, living water. Living water in scripture is moving water, crisp and clear and flowing. God is that fountain of life. He is the source of spiritual life and grace, and it’s a fountain that will never run dry.

So the psalmist graphically tells us of his desire, his longing for God. Something has cut him off. Something has and still is preventing him from the sweet fellowship with God’s people. He’s away, and he’s kept away against his own will, and it only gets worse. You look at verse three.

My tears have been my portion, my food, day and night. And yet another gripping image, the writer here speaks of his tears being his food. And this too is a repeated idea in the psalm, Psalm 80. A repentant psalmist notes that God has fed them with the bread of tears. Now, tears cannot be manufactured into bread. It’s a metaphor that speaks of intense hunger. Not only is the psalmist thirsty, but he is famished as well. These are not tears of joy. These are tears of protracted weeping brought on by hardship and a lack of fellowship with God himself. It’s an unmistakable sign of need. And cruelty now is piled on top of hardship because the taunts of the enemies scream in his ears.

Where is your God? This mocking epithet is the familiar bellow of the unbelieving onlookers. When they see God’s children troubled or chastened, God’s people are frequently made the object of this ridicule. And Jesus, as you know, faced that same mockery.

This deep Longing for restoration of fellowship with God brings back wonderful memories, sweet and pleasant, of his fellowship and his worship with God’s people. You look at verse four. For I used to go along with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God, with the voice of joy and thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival. His recollections speak of the lively and enjoyable occasions of traveling to worship with God’s people. I used to go along with the throng, referring to the great number of fellow worshipers with whom he walked. And not merely among them, he was leading them. I used to lead them in procession to the house of God. Doesn’t necessarily suggest that he was a leader, a rabbi in some sense, only that he was an enthusiastic participant in corporate worship.

We haven’t yet considered the song of ascents in our psalm study. The singing of one of these psalms is easily incorporated into this scene that the psalmist describes. The voice of joy and thanksgiving, keeping festival. It wasn’t an occasion of drudgery, fellowshipping with God’s people. It wasn’t mindless duty. It was pure joy. Joy is one of the key words in the Psalms. Weeping may last for the night, but a shot of joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30, verse five. Oh, clap your hands, all you people. Shout to God with the voice of joy. Psalm 47, one. Tell of his works with joyful singing. Psalm 107, 22. Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting.

Psalm 126.5, these occasions with God’s people was a celebration. It was a festival. It was a happy and exciting occasion of worshiping God with others. These fond memories serve only to stir his emotions. I pour out my soul within me. The more he thinks of that corporate worship, the sadder he becomes.

Regarding this natural affection for missing worship, Spurgeon once said, the next best thing to living in light of the Lord’s love is to be unhappy until we’ve found it. Did you hear that? The next best thing to living in the light of the Lord’s love is to be unhappy until we have found it. If we’re away from church, if we’re away from fellowship, there ought to be a sense of longing for the psalmist. The very thought of these previous occasions of worship with God’s people makes him all the more emotional. There’s a measure of relief in this.

Troubled soul catches himself and he rebukes himself. Would you look at verse five? Why are you in despair, O my soul? Why have you become disturbed within me? A psalmist suddenly comes to a realization that despair and being disturbed are wholly inappropriate for a child of God. It is as if the heart and the mind of the psalmist, which knows the reality of the situation, abruptly rebukes his own soul for such mopey, negative, pitiful attitudes. He first of all interrogates his own soul.

Why are you in despair? And of the five other times that this word is used in the Psalms, four of them are translated exactly the same way, despair. But listen to this. In Psalm 44, 25, the translation presents a stunning picture. Our soul has sunk down into the dust. Lower than low. And the psalmist’s heart and mind says, what are you thinking, soul? To grovel in the dust. The other word that he uses here to challenge his soul’s attitude is disturbed. Why have you become disturbed within me? The word presents an even more powerful image. It’s frequently used to refer to a wild and angry sea.

Listen to this, Isaiah 51.15, a roaring sea.

Jeremiah 5.22, tossing waves.

Jeremiah 51.55, tumultuous waves and waters. The psalmist challenges the reasonableness of a child of God’s soul who is in such turbulent condition. Why? He asks. And in essence, what he practices is what we might call some good old-fashioned self-talk. What are you doing? Come on! What are you thinking? Shape up! Quit your whining! Don’t you know the nature of the God that you worship?

God doesn’t change. He will not forsake his people. He is very much still worthy of the saints worship regardless of the circumstances. Psalmist heart and mind seeks to soothe and encourage the troubled soul. But then the Psalmist pauses. And he turns from this lament inward to a lament to God. From crying out before God, because God hears everything, to speaking directly to Him. Would you look at verse six? Oh my God, my soul is in despair within me. Therefore I remember you. When we pray, we don’t inform God of anything.

He already knows. The psalmist basically just deals with this as a matter of course. Up to this point, the psalmist has largely kept his comments to himself, perhaps in his heart, perhaps murmured under his breath. He’s mulling over the situation in his own mind, pondering his circumstances in his heart, addressing only his own soul.

But suddenly, here in verse six, that changes, whether it’s courage on his part or humility. He suddenly cries out to God himself. Oh my God, my soul is in despair within me. This is a prayer of repentance. He already knows that despair is sin. He has no cause to cower in dread, to sink down into the dust. He rebuked his own soul for that, his heart and his mind. But now he confesses it to God. And beyond just a prayer of repentance, he begins to repair his troubled soul. He does this by remembering his God, what he’s like, what is his nature, what has he done? This reference to his location, the land of the Jordan, the peaks of Hermon, Mount Mizar, it seems to indicate that he is either traveling or he’s being held there against his will.

But our writer does something here that we’ve all done. We’re out in God’s creation, and we take in a view of creation’s grandeur, and we are immediately led to acknowledge the creator of it. That’s what he does. He is at least vividly remembering, if not actively observing, some dramatic feature of God’s creation.

He speaks of a waterfall. Deep calls to deep at the sound of your waterfalls. And we can picture what he suggests here, the powerful roar of the flow of water, the thunderous crashing of that water on the rocks below, the invigorating spray, They’re wonderful scenes, waterfalls. And he is immediately prompted to thoughts of God’s greatness and power because of it.

God has not left creation without a witness. His testimony of himself is overwhelming. The psalmist captures that. Your breakers and your waves have rolled over me. God has abundantly revealed himself to mankind. Psalm 19, the heavens are telling of the glory of God. Their expanse is declaring the work of his hands. Day to day pours forth speech. Night to night reveals knowledge.

It’s more difficult, in my opinion. In fact, I believe it takes an infinitely more effort to not see God in his creation. Then to behold his invisible attributes, his eternal power and divine nature. You have to try not to see it. It’s impossible to ignore or overlook God’s creation and to be led naturally to understand the creator.

Just as the psalmist has had billows and billows of trouble, so also he sees billows and billows of God himself. And with that, our troubled friend is led to think on God’s promises. He will command his loving kindness in the daytime. Nearly 250 times in the Old Testament, God’s loving kindness is declared. He is trustworthy. His promises are sure. He will not forsake us. He loves and cares for his children.

This song will be with me in the night. The night. When troubles and worry mount, even then there is a song, a song of encouragement for the true child of God, a song of hope, a song of God’s faithfulness. Faithful will take heart, uttering a prayer to the God of his life. He will hear your cry. As that familiar comfort of Psalm 30 says, weeping may last for the night.

A shout of joy comes in the morning. God knows what you need. Look to the morning. Dawn is coming. Yet still, our friend mutters. leaning back into the double-mindedness that plagues our nature. What about this? God, what about that? What began as a pleasant and repentant conversation is interrupted by a momentary relapse into grumbling. God is big enough. After all, he calls God his rock.

As in Psalm 18.3, my rock and my fortress, my deliverer.

Or as in Psalm 71.3, a rock of habitation to which I may continually come. He knows where he’s going. He knows to whom he’s speaking. The psalmist knows his God and his promises well enough, but the reality of life crowds in with doubts and questions. God knows. And he bears with his children as they wrestle with him regarding the vexing questions of life. Why have you forgotten me? Don’t you see? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? Don’t you take notice of their treatment of me? I go about like a common mourner in the street, greatly bowed down, dressed in black, draped in gloom.

Why this? To make matters worse, as we noted back in verse four, again comes this mocking. As if God were unaware, the complaint that he first entertained in his heart now finds its way to his lips. His adversaries are reviling him. It’s grievous to the extreme. He paints it as if one’s bones are shattered. Because not only are they mocking the believer, they’re mocking God himself. Such as the patient, long-suffering of God. To tolerate such treatment. And the psalmist’s questions are deafening, but the soundless reply is overwhelming. God is God, and he will graciously allow us to ask such questions, but he does not obligate himself to answer them.

And in verse 11, The psalmist comes back around. As I mentioned at the outset this morning, the same refrain is uttered three times in these two psalms. Verse five, verse 11, and again in 43.5. His self-admonition is no different here. Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him. regardless of his earthly circumstances as vexing and bewildering as they are, even those cannot dissuade him from praising God. The psalmist closes with this enigmatic statement, the help of my countenance and my God. Not the first time that he’s used this word translated here as countenance.

Back to verse three. In verse three, he expressed the desire, using this word, to appear before God. He wanted to be face-to-face, as it were, with God. And in verse five, he spoke of the help of his presence, face-to-face, beholding God’s countenance.

And so here in verse 11, It is that deep interaction with God that offers him spiritual assistance, that renders him a changed person, so that his interface with God will impact not only his soul, but even his outward demeanor. People can see that he trusts God. His countenance has changed.

And so you say, well, This is nice, but we’re not in exile yet. I suppose we can park this one until such case that happens. What are we supposed to do with this psalm? We have not been invaded, parted away as a people, enslaved by a foreign army as Israel repeatedly experienced.

But I’ll tell you, though, that that all could change in a moment. We’ve even heard talk in recent years by our own politicians, the need of re-education camps, incarceration designed to correct our thinking. Regarding war and invasion by a foreign army, that too is possible. A conquering nation has very limited options for dealing with the vanquished population. Enslavement may be one of the better options. to those captured. In such a scenario, we would be largely removed, dislocated from our Christian fellowship. We’d have to start from scratch with our fellow prisoners. But what other situations interrupt, steal us away from our beloved Christian fellowship? May I offer some thoughts? There are many.

First of all, moving. Moving, picking up and moving will often disrupt our spiritual lives. That doesn’t make relocating a sin, but it often disturbs people’s spiritual balance. One of the things I’ve noticed in relocations is how little effort is invested in finding ahead of time a good church before you pull up stakes. We’d like to think that we could pick up and plug in just anywhere. Surely there’s a good church there.

That’s not always the case. And soon frustrations and even heartache follows. Not only moving, but travel. And I’d like you to hear me out on this one. Not against vacations. We all need them. Good to get away. Good to go see family and friends and new places. But I am always surprised by people’s choice to use the Lord’s Day as travel days. When we do that, we’re taking for granted the sweet fellowship of God and his people. Here’s my appeal. Leave a day early and find a church wherever you’re vacationing to go and visit.

You will bless them and you will likely be blessed. Not only moving and travel, but sickness. It’s true. Sickness will take us away from corporate worship. And the loneliness and the longing for Christian fellowship soon begins to build to overwhelming. Sickness.

Providentially hindered. As some of the older confessions put it, in their urging for people to honor the Lord’s day, they Issue this caveat, unless you are providentially hindered. They make appropriate room for things that are inevitable to come up on the Lord’s day, things that prevent us from being in church. Not only sickness and being providentially hindered, but apostasy.

This is a sad one, but it’s one that most bodies of believers know all too well. A believer suddenly goes missing, they curtail their interaction with others, and then they refuse phone calls, and in time, the news emerges that they no longer believe. Error, factiousness, that’ll take you out of fellowship. Right along with this error, this apostasy, this error, false teaching, it works its way into a fellowship and then proceeds to extract people from it. We’ve seen this again and again in our church, and that’s why we watch. Apostasy, error, sin. Sin will take you out of fellowship.

This is one that will often lead people away from corporate worship and God. At first, they’re ashamed of their sin. They don’t feel worthy to come into worship. And so they absent themselves from fellowship. But soon they become very defensive. Defensive over the choices they’ve made and contrary with anyone who would dare challenge them.

What about this one? Whimsy or wanderlust. What takes people away from fellowship? Sometimes people just want to do something different. A new hobby, a new passion, a new love, a new frontier. They just want something new. It’s just flighty, capricious, whimsical. And then finally, misplaced priorities.

Sometimes people develop some really strange ideas that perhaps just maybe there’s something better, something grander that they can do on the Lord’s day instead of being with God’s people in worship. Outdoor activities of all sorts, skiing, golf, hiking. And I’ll tell you again, I’ve said it a hundred times, I’m not a strict Sabbatarian, but corporate worship is the bare minimum of what God’s people should do to honor the Lord’s day.

Would you humble yourself before him? Our gracious God, we thank you for this humble psalmist, whose name we do not know, but whose heart we know very well. Lord, so many times we grumble in our hearts at things that we’re experiencing. And Lord, you allow us to come before you and even to challenge you and question you.

You’re so gracious, so merciful to us. Lord God, grant us a deep and abiding passion to be in fellowship with God’s people, to come and to worship God. Lord, we thank you. We thank you for this reminder. We pray that you would examine our heart and that you would burden us accordingly. Father, draw us closer as you consider doing so for this child of God in faith. Draw us into your worship. With your people. It’s in Jesus name that we pray.