Still

Psalm 46

September 8, 2024 • Mount Pleasant UMC

The irony was not lost on me. I was sitting in my office, preparing to work on this very sermon, and as I started to read through the psalm I got interrupted. Then I tried again, and there was an eruption of noise from the preschool downstairs. Good noise. We love hearing the kids downstairs. So then I sat down to read again and I couldn’t focus because there were so many things going on in my head, things I had to attend to or think about or work on. Every time I sat down to read this psalm, something happened. And when I finally got through it, I chuckled as I read the most famous verse in the psalm: “Be still, and know that I am God” (46:10). Like I said, the irony was not lost on me.

This fall, we are talking about the brokenness of our world, the places where it seems things have been torn apart and torn down. But we’re not just talking about it; we’re seeking to become people who are helping repair the brokenness. And so this series, which I’ve called “Mended,” is all about developing habits and disciplines that can bring healing to the world around us. We’ve looked at a few already, but this morning we turn to an ancient practice that is very hard to practice. This morning, I want to focus on the discipline of stillness.

Stillness is hard to find today. We live in a noisy world. When I get in the car, I usually turn on a podcast or the radio almost immediately. When I go to a restaurant, there are either TVs blaring or music playing in the background. When you call a company or an office, pretty much any office, there’s music playing—over and over and over again. When the music stops, I get worried that I’ve been disconnected! Even Wal-mart blasts music into the parking lot! Really? Do I need to be entertained while I walk to and from my car? Where in the world—literally—can you go to find quiet?

We are noisy in part because of the anxiety that surrounds our world and threatens our lives. We think if we just stay noisy, we can ignore the anxiety we feel. Anxiety is a response to a real or perceived threat; in other words, when we think something is coming against us, we will respond in anxious ways like anger, control, manipulation, avoidance, distraction or sarcasm (ouch, that last one hurts). Those sorts of things become automatic so that we react in those ways without even thinking about it. Now, let me read that list again and I want you to think about if or where you have seen those sorts of reactions in the world today: anger, control, manipulation, avoidance, distraction or sarcasm. Does that not describe our world perfectly? We are anxious and so we make noise, very often angry or manipulative noise, so that we don’t have to really deal with how we feel. It’s an anxious world out of control (Villodas, Good and Beautiful and Kind, pg. 123).

Into such a world comes wisdom from the psalm we read this morning. Just as a reminder, the psalms are the prayer book or the hymnbook of ancient Israel. They were, like all of the Scriptures, written in a specific time and place to real people and, like the songs that we sing every Sunday, were preserved to be part of the worship life of God’s people. Psalm 46 was written, not by David, but by a group of who we think were probably worship leaders named “The Sons of Korah,” and while we don’t know the exact setting for their writing it, there are some clues we can pick up along the way. There is a threat of some sort from the surrounding pagan nations against Jerusalem. Either they are coming directly against the city or there is the fear that one of them is going to attack. We know the threat is against Jerusalem because the psalmist refers to the “city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells” (46:4). But the description of a river running through that city is a metaphor of some sort because Jerusalem doesn’t have a river. In fact, it sits on a hill surrounded by valleys on all sides, like a fortress. It’s well protected, in other words, then and now. But the psalmist wants the people to know that the physical fortress is not where they should place their confidence. God is the only fortress who will never fall; that’s a refrain that is repeated in this psalm. The singer reminds the people then and us now that only in God can we find our hope, not in anything in this world, not even in the city where God chose to dwell (cf. Wilson, NIV Application Commentary: Psalms, Volume 1, pg. 715).

But when anxiety attacks, we don’t see that. We don’t experience that. We find it hard to believe that, which is why we get busy and loud, which just causes more anxiety. Now, before I go too much further, I want to recognize that for some of us, anxiety is just an inconvenience which makes us worry about an outcome maybe for a day or two or a week or two. But there are others for whom anxiety is crippling, literally making it impossible to function. Some of us may need a doctor’s care or even medication to overcome the level of anxiety that threatens you on a daily basis. And there are others of us for whom anxiety comes in waves, though when the wave hits it can be intense. There was a time in my life when I was going through some stuff and I felt intense anxiety every Sunday morning before I went out into the chancel to lead worship. The thoughts that came were something like, “Who do you think you are, leading these people? Why do you think you can do this and what could you possibly offer to those in need? Your life is a mess, and you shouldn’t be doing this.” And I would stand there in the wings paralyzed, watching the clock until the moment came when I knew I couldn’t delay any longer. That season lasted a lot longer than I wish it had, and it was only by the grace of God and the strength of the Holy Spirit that I came out of it at all. So I get it. Anxiety is real and it can be crippling, just as it seems to have been for these ancient Israelites. So in response to times like that, the psalmist offers two things for us to do when anxiety hits and when the world seems to be a mess.

Thing one is found in verse 8: “Come and see what the Lord has done.” Israel is called to remember the faithfulness of God, the ways God had worked on their behalf all throughout history, the ways he had taken care of them from their beginning as a people, and in particular the ways he has fought for them and made a way for them even when the enemies came against them. Remember his “desolations,” the psalmist says, which is a metaphor for power. Other translations are “marvels” or “awesome deeds.” Come see what God’s power can do: “He makes wars cease…he breaks the bow and shatters the spear…” Those are violent images, but the essence of what the psalmist is saying is that God brings peace. We’ve heard that theme earlier in the psalm: God is a refuge, a help who is always there and who can be found when you need him. God is our protector, God brings strength, and he will be with us no matter what else happens. The psalmist wants them to remember all of these things, but they will most likely remember them in the context of their people’s story, a story that included God bringing them out of slavery in Egypt and crossing the sea to escape from Pharaoh. The story includes forty years in the desert and receiving the law from God through Moses. It included conquering the promised land, settling in their own land, and their demanding a human king because having God as their king simply wouldn’t do. Saul, David, Solomon and then a string of other kings, most of which led the people astray and did not follow God’s ways. And even with all of that, God was faithful. God was ever-present (cf. Wilson 716).

As I said a few moments ago, the reference to the “city of God” could be understood as pointing toward Jerusalem, because that certainly was and, in many ways, still is understood to be “the holy place where the Most High dwells” (46:4). However, the psalmist goes on to say, “God is within her, she will not fall” (46:5), and we know that is absolutely not true. Jerusalem has fallen many times, and even today the Temple Mount is not under Jewish control. Just because God had chosen this city did not mean it would not be attacked or destroyed. The prophet Jeremiah tells the people as much. In Jeremiah’s day, there was a common mantra anytime someone talked about Jerusalem being attacked. People would say, “The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord,” almost as if to drown out the doom and gloom prophets. But Jeremiah warns the people that God will just as quickly allow Jerusalem to be destroyed as anywhere else if the people are disobedient (cf. Jeremiah 7:1-8). He basically says, “You can’t rely on the temple to save you.” And that Biblical idea leads me to believe that maybe “city of God” here doesn’t refer to a physical city so much as it does to the people of God. No matter what happens, there will always be a people who are committed to living God’s way. Jesus put it this way when establishing the church on Peter’s witness: “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matthew 16:18; cf. Wilson 716). No matter what, God’s people will endure because the Lord is an ever-present help. So come and see what the Lord has done, because what he has done is good and he is working for your good.

So, therefore, the psalmist says, we don’t need to fear. We don’t need to be anxious. Instead, we can move to thing two, which is found in verse 10: “Be still, and know that I am God.” I like the way John Goldingay has translated that verse: “Stop, and acknowledge that I am God” (Psalms for Everyone—Part 1, pg. 146). Even better, in my opinion, is The Message: “Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me…” Now, stepping out of the traffic is always good advice, but I think what the verse is getting at is not really about avoiding danger. It’s about getting out of the busyness, the noise, and clang and clatter of the culture. Stop doing all the things. Stop acting like you’re important and busy. Stop going to war with others. Pay attention. When we are running in the rat race and when we are constantly noisy, it’s easy to begin to believe we are at the center of the universe. Only when we stop are we able to acknowledge that God is God and we are not (cf. Wilson 718).

“I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth,” God says. He is the king, the Lord, the ruler over all. And our job, our task, our calling is to exalt him and not ourselves. When we stop and know that he is God (and, again, by default we are not), we’re able to center ourselves on what matters and on what will last. This is an invitation to stop thinking we are the greatest, to stop believing we can do whatever we want. When we focus on God we are reminded who will ultimately win and who is in charge (spoiler alert: it’s not us) (cf. Goldingay 148). The call to stop is a call to refocus, to reorient, to be renewed. But it requires getting still in very noisy world. And that’s hard.

I don’t know about you, but when I try to get quiet before God, I find my mind goes about a thousand directions. I think of things I haven’t thought of in a long time, and my brain begins to make today’s to-do list, and there’s this one random line from a song that’s playing over and over and over again so I spend time wondering what line that song is from. Then I hear a sound from somewhere in the house and I know that it’s only me and Cathy and Barney in the house so what is making that noise? And then there’s the car next door that starts up and did I ever finish the laundry? Anything here sounding familiar? Only me? Okay. My point it: even if we find a quiet place to be, finding internal stillness is still hard. And most of the time the world around us doesn’t even try to provide us with space for quiet. What we need are practices or disciplines that can help us learn to get out of the rush and the noise and recenter ourselves on God.

So here are three suggestions, not in any particular order, but perhaps these things might help us do and live into just what the psalmist says. I find it fascinating that this psalm was written long before anyone came up with the idea of mindfulness but that’s really what the psalmist is pointing us toward. It’s almost like the creator of the universe had something to do with it, like he knows how things are supposed to work. But, anyway, the first practice we can engage in is just to stop and pay attention to what’s going on around and within you, which is what some call being mindful. Pay attention to your breathing and intentionally take deep, slow breaths. What are the thoughts trying to grab at your attention? Experts say we should acknowledge those and then set them aside. Some people keep a notepad handy to write those things down so that you don’t forget them. But the main thing here is to stop. Sit down and pay attention to what is happening.

The second practice is much harder than getting quiet, but it’s especially relevant to today’s world. Though we can spend time with God at any point during the day, what we do in the very beginning sets the tone for the day. So what if we took a moment in the morning to focus our thoughts on God? Before we pick up our phones, before we get out of bed, before we do anything, just a few moments when we quiet ourselves and seek to be in God’s presence. But there is something that very often gets in the way of that. It is safe to say we are addicted to these portable internet devices. 89% of Americans say they check their phone within the first ten minutes of waking up. Guilty. 75% of us feel uneasy if we leave our phones at home and the same amount use their phones on the toilet. 27% admit to using their phones while driving and to me that means probably 73% of people are lying. And we check our phones an average of 144 times a day. We are addicted; these little things have power over us. So what if we broke at least the first thing in the morning habit? I’ve been working on that for some time now. When my alarm goes off, I lay in stillness for a few moments. Lately I’ve been praying the prayer we learned a couple of weeks ago: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” I’ll pray that and then be quiet for a bit before I pray it again. I’ll do that for a few minutes or until Barney decides he must be taken out right that moment. Yeah sometimes it’s not the phone that interrupts the morning; it’s the dog. But somehow in those few moments, the tone for the day is set before I look at anything else. What might you try to help you be still when you first wake up?

Then let’s talk about the practice that most connects us with stillness, and that’s prayer. Yes, it’s hard. We’ve already acknowledged that. It’s difficult and there are so many distractions. But let me remind you of something I’ve said before: prayer is not primarily about asking for or getting things. It’s not about presenting your list of wants to God, though there is certainly room for that. Jesus did say, “You may ask me for anything in my name” (John 14:14) and Paul wrote, “In every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6). Asking is part of prayer, but only part. It’s not the whole thing like we often think it is. The main reason we are called to pray is to spend time with and to get to know our heavenly Father. You can’t have a relationship or a friendship with someone you never spend time with or never talk to. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it takes time. But anything worth doing is often hard. Stay with it because according to the psalmist “Peace and security come from knowing and experiencing God as the exalted Lord and true King” (Russell, The Psalms—Part II, pg. 15).

“Come and see what they Lord has done… [then] Be still, and know that I am God” (46:8, 10). And the psalm ends with the chorus that has been its theme: “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (46:11). For nearly a thousand years, much of the known world was under the rule of the Holy Roman Empire, which was neither holy nor Roman, but I digress. Church and state had been fused in such a way that really neither one of them was recognizable, but as always happens in such a setting, the real loser was the church. Compromise and a lack of spiritual strength were the hallmarks of the day. There was a young monk named Martin Luther who came to a point while reading the Bible that there were just some then-current practices he could not put up with. They simply didn’t square with Scripture, and so Luther wrote up what he thought were “talking points,” things to discuss among church leaders. What happened instead was that his writing set off a firestorm and what we now know as “protestantism” was born. Luther was condemned as a heretic and his life was threatened. Talk about anxiety! And yet, in the midst of that storm, Luther took the words of this psalm to heart. Threatened with execution, Luther prayerfully put Psalm 46 to music: “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing, our helper he, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing” (cf. Goldingay 147). That went on to become the most famous hymn of the Protestant Reformation and is still a rallying cry for many today. It’s a reminder that God is our strength and he is our peace in the midst of a world that is filled with anxiety. So be still. Be still and know that he is God and he will win the day. Let’s pray.