The Biggest Part of Life

2 Samuel 22

September 11, 2022 • Mount Pleasant UMC

It is hard to believe that it has been 21 years since the twin towers came down and our country found itself under attack. For my generation, it is our “where were you when” moment, the moment when we experienced what many others in the world already knew: the power of terrorism to shape a culture. There are many things I remember vividly from that day, but two of them always stand out when I remember that day: hugging my kids like never before when I picked them up that day, and gathering on the courthouse lawn that evening for community prayer. Suddenly, almost everyone felt the need to pray, to call out to someone bigger than us. Now, here we are, twenty-one years later, about as far from feeling that need, from experiencing that unity and connectedness as we have ever been. Could it be because we have forgotten what should be most important?

For the last few weeks we’ve been studying the life of David, the man who is remembered as the perfect king. When people want to talk about an idealized leader, they will sometimes talk about the “King David” of the organization. Even though he was far from perfect in character, he still becomes the standard by which every other king is judged. Why is that? What was it about David that allowed the people to see him that way? The answer is found in his relationship with God, and today we’re going to look at how he himself remembered it through a song of praise, preserved in 2 Samuel 22, which our kids will read for us this morning. Let’s listen.

[22:1-7]

So this psalm is also found with a few differences as Psalm 18, and in this first part, David uses all sorts of images to describe God. A good worship song helps us focus on God rather than ourselves, and the longer David walked with God, the more he was able to see God working in his life. David became a “God-noticer.” All the things he had been through—Goliath, Bathsheba, Mephibosheth, Absalom—all those things taught him, slowly but surely, that God was active and present in every moment of every day. So David learned to see God in all sorts of ways: as a refuge, as a stronghold, as one who would always hear his voice, as the biggest part of his life, as a rock. Of course, we’re used to using those names for God, especially that last one: rock. I grew up singing “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me.” Later I learned Brenton Brown’s praise song, “God My Rock.” And of course the classic camp song, “Jesus is the rock and he rolls my blues away.” But in David’s day it would have been inappropriate to compare the living God to a lifeless rock. Biblically, rocks may be one of the lowest things on the scale of creation. Rocks may be the furthest thing possible from God (cf. Peterson, Leap Over a Wall, pg. 207).

And yet, if you go with me to Israel in January (shameless plug), you’ll see that there are lots and lots of rocks. You might hear on the news of people (children, even!) throwing rocks at soldiers or tanks, and that’s because that's all they have. There are plenty of rocks! And far be it for me to second guess David, but I think that’s part of his point. The rocks are everywhere, just as David had discovered how God was everywhere. But there is, of course, more to it, because ultimately David sees God as his protector and a firm foundation he could stand upon. The last time I was in Israel, I got to stand on the edge of the Mount of Precipice in Nazareth, where the people threatened to throw Jesus off the edge (cf. Luke 4:29), and as I looked down I thought about how the difference between life and death at that moment is all in where you’re standing. Standing on the rock provides security, groundedness. One step the wrong way would result in death. God is a rock we can stand upon.

David's descendent, Jesus, once told a story about a foolish man and a wise man (Luke 6:46-49). Maybe you grew up singing the song in Sunday School: “The foolish man built his house upon the sand…” When the storms came, the house fell because it had no foundation. The wise man, we’re told, built his house on the solid bedrock and when the storms came, his house stood. David says God is like that. God is his rock, and the psalm invites us to make God our rock as well. God is the biggest part of David’s life, even when he’s not aware of it, because God provides him a firm place to stand. What about you? Is God your rock?

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[22:8-20]

VIDEO: “He’s Not Safe” (Narnia)

One of my favorite stories is The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. It’s the first book of the “Chronicles of Narnia,” and it tells the story of four children who go through a wardrobe and end up in the magical land of Narnia where the ruler is Aslan, a lion who is the Christ figure in the story. It’s a little different in the book, but the point is the same: Aslan isn’t safe, but he’s good. God isn’t safe, but he’s good. You get that same idea when you read this portion of David’s song. There’s lots of scary stuff going on in these verses because David says when the king acts (cf. Goldingay, 1 & 2 Samuel for Everyone, pg. 168), the earth trembles (22:8), there is smoke and fire (22:9), storms erupt (22:10-13), his voice is like thunder (22:14), lightning scatters his enemies (22:15) and “the foundations of the earth [are] laid bare” (22:16). It’s a dark picture. He’s not safe, David says. The Lord of creation can do whatever he wants with creation and in creation because God is not our buddy. God is not our next-door neighbor. God is all-powerful and he’s not safe, but he’s good.

David knows what storms in life are like, and he’s learned that in the midst of them, God reaches down (22:17) and grabs ahold of David. God doesn’t remove him from the storms, but God supports (22:19) and protects David in the midst of the storm. David might get wet, and his enemies will still come after him, but God is with him, the God who is not safe, but good. The God who, when all is said and done, will bring David (and us) into a “spacious place” (22:20) because he delights in us.

In the English translation we miss the word picture David has painted here. In verse 7, what is translated as “distress” literally means “a tight place” (Baldwin, 1 & 2 Samuel, pg. 287), and then in verse 20, David says God rescued him and put him down in “a spacious place.” A tight place to a spacious place. Have you ever been in a “tight” place? I mean, literally, a tight place? When we were at Sepphoris in Israel in 2012, for some reason I can’t quite recall, we decided we wanted to climb down into the city’s ancient water system. It’s dry now, but there are these tunnels where the water would be collected and was directed into the city. So we decided to walk the length of those tunnels—again, not sure why, and it never occurred to me that water doesn’t need much room to flow. It certainly doesn’t need the kind of room that a (at that time) 43-year-old American male might need! At age 12, Rachel didn’t have much trouble, but I did! There were places where I had to squeeze through, suck in my gut, or bend in half, but when we got to the end, there was the place for the wide pool, out of which the city would get their water. We went from some very tight places into a spacious place, and I can tell you there is a great relief that comes with that change.

Maybe you aren’t crazy enough to crawl through water tunnels, but I’d bet you’ve been in some metaphorical tight places in your life. Too much month at the end of the money. An argument that seems to spell the end of a relationship or a marriage. A child who has gotten in trouble one too many times with the authorities. An employer who always finds something wrong with what you’ve done. Maybe the enemies have looked like bill collectors or layoff notices or a microscopic virus. You know what a “tight spot” feels like. And in every tight spot, David’s answer is the same: cry out to God, the one who may not be safe but who is good. Now, this is not a promise that everything is going to work out the way you want it to. That wasn’t David’s experience. Not every situation worked out the way he hoped it would, the ways he prayed it would happen. After his affair with Bathsheba became public knowledge, and the baby that was born became sick, David begged God to spare the child’s life, but the child died anyway. God doesn't promise to pull us out of the situation, but he does promise to walk through it with us. He’s not safe, but he’s good, and he will ultimately bring us to a spacious place. My experience is that rarely do the tight spaces widen the way I think they should, but when I look back, I can see that God has made a way for me. Had things worked out the way I thought they ought to, I would have missed the blessing he had for me. If God is the biggest part of our lives, as he is in David’s life, can we trust him to rescue us and bring us to a spacious place? Can we trust the God who is good even when he’s not safe?

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[22:21-28]

Have you ever caught your child or grandchild with their “hand” in the proverbial cookie jar? Or you’ve found something you know they did but they wouldn’t admit it? “Who did this?” you might ask, and the answer of course is: “I don’t know.” Even when they’re holding the cookie and sitting on the counter, the answer is still, “I don’t know.” That’s the way this part of David’s song feels. He’s gone from celebrating God's character to announcing God’s protection to reflecting on God’s power. But when I hear him say things like, “I have been blameless before him and have kept myself from sin” (22:24), I want to say, “Really, David? Does the name Bathsheba mean anything to you? What about the times God told you not to count the people and you did anyway?” You wonder if he’s in denial, or maybe some publicist actually wrote this part of the song. But I think what’s actually happening here is that David is looking at his life the way God sees it.

I’m not saying God doesn't see our sin, but we are told that when we come to God with a sincere heart of repentance, when we come to God and ask for forgiveness, he remembers our sin no more. Listen to how the Old Testament prophet Micah puts it: “Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy. You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea” (Micah 7:18-19). I heard one person once say God throws our sins into the sea and puts up a “No Fishing” sign. When we come to God with a repentant heart, he chooses not to remember our sins. So David's exactly right. He can honestly say he stands now in God’s presence without a blemish because he has been forgiven.

That’s hard for us to comprehend, because we don’t forget like that. We don’t easily forget the sins that were committed against us, and if we’re really honest, we’re not even able to forget our own sins. At least I don’t; maybe you’re better at it than I am, but I can remember way too many things I wish I had never done, even after I know God has forgiven me. And that makes it hard for us “feel” forgiven. I would imagine that was hard for David, too, which is one reason he sings about it here. He needs a reminder that God doesn’t remember, that God has chosen to forget his sins.

So, for David, it’s all about God’s action in his life, all about God taking the broken pieces of his life and putting them back together, making his life better and stronger than it was before. In fact, I like the way Eugene Peterson translates verse 25: “God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes.” I work with words every day, whether it’s writing a letter or something online or a sermon. Words are my tools, and there are times when I find myself struggling to find just the right word. I can write a section or a paragraph and then find myself going back to delete the whole thing and start over. My hope is always that, when I’m done, it’s a better story or a better sermon than what I began with. That's not always the case, as you all well know! But David’s talking about God rewriting our story, taking out the paragraphs that are bad, the blemished sections, our sins, and putting in their place righteousness. As God rewrites our story, he is making us more like Jesus. In fact, for the Christian, we’re told that when we accept Jesus into our lives, when we ask for forgiveness from our sins, his righteousness is “imputed” to us (cf. Romans 4-5). That’s an old word that basically means what he did, we get credit for. When God looks at us, he sees Christ and his righteousness because he chooses to. He rewrites our story. And when God rewrites your story, he becomes the biggest part of your life. In all things, from that moment on, your life is meant to reflect the grace and mercy and forgiveness of Jesus Christ toward everyone.

You may know the story of Corrie ten Boom, who as a young girl was arrested with her family for harboring Jews during World War II. She was one of the few who lived through the experience in Ravensbruck, released due to a “clerical error.” Out of that experience, ten Boom had the chance to speak all around the world. But after an event in Munich, one of the guards from the concentration camp approached her, thanking her for her message and the word of hope that our sins are at the bottom of the sea. “You mentioned Ravensbruck,” he said. “I was a guard there, but since then, I’ve become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well…Will you forgive me?” he asked, sticking out his hand. And ten Boom struggled. She knew the truth of what she had said, but she also remembered the horror this man had put her and her sister through. “Help!” she prayed, and then told God, “I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling.”

So, woodenly, she began to lift her hand to shake this ex-guard’s, and at that moment, she said, an incredible thing took place. Here is how she described it: “The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. ‘I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart!’ For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.” That can happen when God rewrites your story and becomes the biggest part of your life. Will you let God rewrite your story?

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[22:29-46]

This next-to-last part of David’s song is mostly about how God enabled David to kill people. It’s about the wars he fought, and he says, “I pursued my enemies and crushed them; I did not turn back till they were destroyed. I crushed them completely, and they could not rise; they fell beneath my feet. You armed me with strength for battle” (22:38-40). David gives God direct credit for defeating his enemies. David’s story is full of battles and wars and fighting and killing. And it’s great that David recognizes he could not have done what he has done without God, but why this focus on bloodshed?

Let’s remember that David’s world is a brutal, bloody time. It’s a time of war. He lives in the midst of Philistine culture and Canaanite morality, or as we would put it today, violence and sex (cf. Peterson 215). Canaanite cities that have been unearthed are full of fertility goddesses; Philistine cities are full of weapons and beer mugs. That’s David’s world. And, if you think about it, his setting isn’t all that different from ours. What do you get when you turn on the nightly news? A war here, an invasion there, a conflict there, and sex scandals. These enemies threaten us more subtly and therefore more dangerously than the way they threatened David. The internet has made sin more accessible to this generation than any other, and our kids face temptations every day to give into “what everyone else is doing.” It’s been made to look normal. For instance, there used to be a social stigma on someone who got involved with pornography; today, men and women alike easily find it online and become addicted. It breaks up marriages and destroys lives. Greed dominates our culture; we’re always being told we want and need more and more and more. When exactly is enough, “enough”? And churches are splintering over our differing ideas about human sexuality and what should and shouldn’t be allowed. It is said that the most prevalent enemies of our soul today are money, sex and power.

David’s point in all this battle talk is this: without God’s help, we cannot hope to defeat the enemies that come against us, whatever the Philistines in our life look like. We do not have the strength to live this Christian life, the faithful life, on our own. We can’t do it—but God can. David puts it this way: “The Lord turns my darkness into light” (22:29). John reframes that image at the beginning of his gospel: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). The Lord removes our darkness and replaces it with light. “By my God,” David writes, “I can leap over a wall” (22:30, NRSV). Will you let God fight your battles for you, defeat your enemies for you, each and every day? I know every day, even before I get out of bed, I find myself praying something like, “God, give me strength for whatever comes this day. Help me do what you want me to do this day.” And bit by bit, as the enemies are defeated, God becomes more and more the biggest part of my life.

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[22:47-50]

David’s main concern throughout this song, as in the other songs he wrote, is not bringing attention to himself or to his exploits. David’s main goal is to bring attention to God and what God can do, because, as I’ve been saying, God is the biggest part of his life. And so, in this last section, he lets loose in exuberant praise: “The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be my God, the Rock, my Savior!” (22:46). And then he sings more than he knows in verse 50: “I will praise you, Lord, among the nations; I will sing the praises of your name.” David never physically left the nation of Israel, and yet throughout the centuries, his words have been translated and sung in nations around the world. So in a real way still today, David is praising God among the nations (cf. Baldwin 290).

Throughout this psalm, there is little of life that goes unexplored by David, and in everything he realizes how different his life would be if it weren’t for God. Eugene Peterson puts it this way: “Ignoring or denying God doesn’t first of all make us make us bad; it makes us small” (Peterson 216). A life without God leaves us small, which is why Jesus said he came to give us life “abundantly” (cf. John 10:10). He came to bring us uncommon life, life that exceeds the boundaries, a life in which he enables us to “leap over a wall.” After all, what could be better than a life built on a solid foundation that will not shake, trusting in the God who is good and who forgives our sins (remembering them no more), and who fights our enemies for us? That’s what happens when we allow God to be the biggest part of our life.

So, here’s what I want you to do this week. On your sermon study guide this morning, there is a circle on the back side (where the questions normally are). Near his death, Socrates is reported to have said that the unexamined life is not worth living. I want to invite you to live an examined life this week, a David sort of “paying attention” life. Pay attention to what part God plays in your life. Now, I’m not just talking about how much time you spend reading the Bible or praying or going to worship. What part does God play in the decisions you make, in the way you interact with others, in the way you forgive those who have hurt you, in the ways you raise your children or your grandchildren? What part does God play in your thinking, in your entertainment choices, in the ways you fight against the enemies that threaten? And then write down the places and the ways you say God working in your life this week inside the circle. Write down the parts of your life that are shaped by God. Then, I invite you to bring those back next week—you don’t have to put your name on it—and we’ll tack those up in the lobby as a witness to how we’re seeking to live more and more the David life, a life where God is the biggest part. Let’s pray.