There is Hope in a Love Stronger than Death (Psalm 103:8-13)

Hello, I'm Pastor Creighton, and thank you for tuning in to New Sun Churches Podcast.

We're a gospel centered church in Port Perry, Ontario, proclaiming the true and life-giving word of Jesus as we love and serve our neighbors.

May God bless you today through his life-giving word.

Let us read responsively from Psalm 103.

Please read the text in bold.

Amen.

Let me read a quote, and before I tell you who it's from, let's speculate about.

Let me give you half a quote, and we'll speculate about what the second half could be.

Here's the quote: Religious ideas have arisen from the same need as have all the other achievements of civilization.

That's the first half of the quote.

Let me read that again.

A little wordy.

That's this guy's fault.

Religious ideas have arisen from the same need as have all other achievements of civilization.

Dot, dot, dot.

Okay.

So what's the deal with the achievements of civilization?

What are they pressing in towards?

This guy's saying all religious ideas are basically pressing into that same drive, that same engine that drives civilization.

What is that?

Well, let's speculate.

Maybe if you're favorable to the idea of religious ideas, you are at Ash Wednesday after all.

You might think something like, well, what's the achievements of civilization?

Religious ideas?

Something like pursuing truth, maybe pursuing the good, pursuing what's beautiful, what makes life meaningful and purposeful.

That's what ar that's where religious ideas arise from.

That's what drives the achievements of civilization.

But this quote comes from Sigmund Freud.

And if you know Sigmund Freud, you know he is no fan of religious ideas.

And when he uses the phrase religious ideas, he has specifically in mind Christian ideas.

Now, Freud's a whole other conversation, but let's listen to the rest of the quote.

Religious ideas have arisen from the same need as have all other achievements of civilization, namely, from the necessity of defending oneself against the crushingly superior force of nature.

Where have religious ideas come from?

From the necessity of defending oneself against the crushingly superior force of nature.

In other words, what drives religious ideas is not the good, the true, the beautiful, the meaningful, the purposeful.

What drives religious ideas is the need not to be crushed by the inevitability of nature, which is to say, death.

Death comes for us all.

And the nature of religious ideas is that it has a way of buffering us against the reality of death, of defending us against it, of denying death and letting us get on with whatever life we cut out for ourselves.

Freud was a harsh critic of Christianity along these lines.

He saw Christianity as nothing but wish fulfillment.

We're just playing around.

We're children who refuse to grow up.

And that's what he saw of the Christian faith.

A lot could be said about Freud, but let me say this.

A Christian faith is not shy about the reality of death.

It doesn't try to deny it, it doesn't try to buffer us from it, it faces it.

For exactly the ugliness that it is, death comes for us all, and it takes what we love the most from us.

And to have a biblical faith, a Christian faith that is founded upon the Bible, is to reckon with the reality of death.

After all, didn't we read Psalm 103 this evening?

We read together that God knows exactly whereof we are made.

He knows that we are nothing but dust.

And tonight you'll hear these words, to dust you shall return.

But the Psalm goes on in verses 15 and 16.

As for man, his days are like grass.

He flourishes like the flower of the field, for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.

See, the Bible isn't shy about the reality of death, is it?

If we're going to have a biblical faith, we shouldn't be shy about it either, but have the courage to face it, to consider it for what it is.

And the Bible tells us that death is not God's design for us.

Death, rather, is a consequence of sin, of transgression, of turning away from the God who is our creator and the source of our life, and curving in on ourselves for our own self-determined way of living.

We substitute lesser goods for ultimate goods, and sin corrupts us.

And we live this topsy-turvy life, curving further and further away from the God who offers us life.

Death, the Bible understands, is not our natural design, it is a consequence of sin.

And therefore, dealing with death on biblical terms, we have to deal with the reality of sin.

But Ash Wednesday offers us hope.

I think a reasonable hope.

If it's reasonable to posit that we live in a universe that didn't happen by accident, but happened by design, and that this God who created the universe actually makes himself known to us by speaking into his creation, then perhaps we have hope that there is a power stronger than death.

Perhaps that power is the very love this God has for us creatures created in his image.

That isn't an unreasonable worldview.

That's the Bible's worldview.

And for those of us sinners who live in the valley of the shadow of death, that gives us hope.

Not denying death, not buffering ourselves from it, staring the reality in the face and finding light and hope in its midst.

Christians ought not to deny or defend against death.

We have a reasonable hope in God's love.

And Psalm 103 tells us exactly what kind of love this is that God has for us, a love that gives us hope.

Hope perhaps as we ourselves reckon with the slow decline of our own health and our own bodies.

Or perhaps for those of us who have someone we love who's in hospital right now or in their final chapter of life.

God's love for us gives us hope.

Hope that overcomes death.

And God's love for us, Psalm 103 tells us, is patient, prodigal, and paternal.

God's love for us is patient, prodigal, and paternal, and this gives us hope in the valley of the shadow of death.

Let's have a look at Psalm 103 briefly together.

You can open up your order of service and we'll follow along.

What kind of hope, what kind of love gives us hope in the midst of death?

A patient love.

The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, we read.

Long suffering and of great goodness.

Let's pause there.

What is God full of?

Not a trick question.

Compassion.

Mercy.

He's long-suffering, which is to say he's patient and of great goodness.

God is full of those things.

He doesn't have a couple of drops in him of those things.

He's spilling over.

You can see the.

You ever pour a glass of water so full it's just bubbling over the top?

That's God.

Except if we have an infinite God, to be full of those things is to have them to an infinite degree.

Can we even imagine what that is?

An infinite degree of compassion.

An infinite degree of mercy.

That's inexhaustible, isn't it?

God is full of compassion and mercy.

He is full of this patient, abiding love for us.

But notice what God is not full of.

Isn't that interesting?

God's anger is precise, even provoked.

It's not inherent to him.

It's a response to the sin which corrupts and deteriorates us.

But we often flip those two, don't we?

At least I'm going to speak for myself and say there's something about my default setting that tells me the opposite is true, that God is full of anger and impatience towards me.

But every once in a while he gets over it and tosses me a bone.

That's not what Psalm 103 says, is it?

God is full of compassion and mercy and patience and goodness towards you and me, towards us sinners.

God's love for us is a patient love, an abiding love.

And our hope in the midst of death is found in this patient love for sinners.

After all, love is patient.

Isn't it?

Love is kind.

Patient is number one on that list.

How about that?

If that's true for us created in God's image and how we treat one another, how much more is that true for the God who created us?

His love towards us is patient.

He abides with sinners.

He does not abandon them or forsake them or forget them.

That's good news.

God's love for us is patient.

God's love for us is prodigal.

Here's what I mean by that.

He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor rewarded us according to our wickedness.

Here's the implication.

That's the assumption here for Psalm 103.

Psalm deserves God's just condemnation and anger.

It's the thing that corrupts us, it's the thing that deteriorates us, it's the thing that drives us away from the God who loves us.

And just like we hate the cancer that eats away at a loved one's body, so too God looks at our sin and he hates the sin which drives us from him.

Because he yearns for us with a patient and loving and extravagant heart.

But God does not deal with us in the way that our sin demands.

God deals with us justly, but he rewards us not according to our wickedness.

The wages of sin is death, we read in Romans chapter 6, but that's not what God deals towards us.

Romans 6 · chapter mention

Instead, what does God do?

For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is his mercy towards those who fear him.

As far as the east is from the west, so far has he set our sins from us.

That's not suggesting they go around the world and meet up somewhere in China.

That's to say they are as far apart as they possibly can be.

God grabs your sin and he puts it in a place where no one can get it again.

And he doesn't care to himself.

Such is the love that God has for us.

It is an extravagant love.

It is not a love that deals with us vindictively, exactingly, grabbing at our sin and shaking us by it.

It is a love that puts away our sin, drives it as far away as it can go.

This love is extravagant.

It is a prodigal kind of love.

Because that's exactly what this word prodigal means.

It is a reckless extravagance.

And that's the kind of love that God delights to show us.

And yes, that brings to mind the prodigal son, doesn't it?

We usually call that parable the parable of the prodigal son.

And rightly so.

He recklessly, extravagantly blows away his father's inheritance or the inheritance he's received from his father, and then sheepishly, but repentantly goes back to his father, knowing that he doesn't deserve to be received, but nevertheless, his best shot is to go back to Dad.

And how does Dad respond?

Not exactingly, not vindictively.

He runs to meet his son.

He doesn't even let his son get home.

He runs to him and throws his arm around him and in every way he can restores the son that he had lost to his sonship.

Friends, this is the extravagant love that God has for us.

The son might have been extravagant in his recklessness.

God is extravagant in his love.

His is a prodigal love.

We might just as well call this parable the parable of the prodigal father.

And that's the heart of God towards sinners, friends.

And if you are a sinner like me, that's good news, isn't it?

How many times do I do the same sin, commit the same sin for that one thousandth time?

The thing I keep promising over and over and over I'm not going to do, I'm not going to lash out that way.

I'm not going to say that harsh word.

I'm not going to do that when no one's around.

And again and again and again.

And then I can sheepishly go back to God.

Well, I know I blew it this time, but I hope you can find it in your heart just to kind of maybe sort of forgive me.

What kind of heart does God meet us with?

An extravagant one.

He runs to embrace us as sons and daughters when we turn to him.

His is a prodigal love, a patient love, a prodigal love.

We can see how this love is mounting and growing and perhaps stronger than death itself, but we need to consider a third quality of this love that God has for us.

It is a deeply paternal love for his children.

As a father pities his own children, we read, so is the Lord merciful to those who fear him.

For he knows whereof we are made.

How does God relate to us sinners?

As a father relates to his children, the father pities his own children.

And you know, granted, we hear pity and we think condescension, and that's not the idea that's being communicated here.

It is dealing with children tenderly, compassionately, considerately.

It's a father who stoops down on his knee to get close, look you in the eye.

That's the way God deals with us.

The Lord is merciful to those who fear him.

And that's not to say we are afraid of God, we're terrified at the thought of God.

That's to say we relate rightly in awe and reverence towards this extravagant Heavenly Father that we have, who is holy and loving and just.

God is delighted to love us as a father loves his children.

Church reformer John Calvin writes that God calls himself father and is pleased to be so called by us by this delightful name.

Isn't that a delightful name?

By this delightful name relieving us of all distrust, since nowhere can a stronger affection be found than in a father.

And no, I don't think John Calvin's saying that fathers love their children more than mothers.

He goes on to say this, but his love towards us is so much the greater and much more excellent than that of earthly parents.

Calvin acknowledges the reality of some homes.

Earthly parents laying aside affection might abandon their offspring.

Parents are sinners too, aren't they?

But God, the Father, will never abandon us.

What a hopeful thought.

I've met many for whom father is not a kind word, a safe word, a word that evokes compassion or security.

Perhaps father has been a word associated with anger, vindictiveness.

Psalm 103 wants to remind us that we do not know God through our earthly fathers.

We know what the vocation of an earthly father is by looking towards our heavenly father.

And there are some of us, perhaps, who need God to be our true heavenly parent, to reparent us through the gospel and show us what the heart of a father ought to be.

Such is the love of God the Father for us, his children, and sinners.

God's love is a patient love.

It is a prodigal love.

It is a deeply paternal love.

It's a paternal love that knows exactly what our situation is.

God's under no illusion.

He knows whereof we are made.

He remembers that we are but dust.

Mortal, subject to sin and death.

He knows our situation.

And it's precisely because God knows that we are nothing but dust that God in his grace and mercy takes on our dusty nature himself.

Takes on our humanity.

The Word becomes flesh and dwells among us, the Son sent by the Father, who is one with the Father, who reveals the heart of the Father to us as a fellow human being.

Friends, this is the very logic of the incarnation.

God making himself known to us creatures of dust as one who is subject to the same.

So that by his cross he could take the power of our death upon himself and put it to death, and in his rising to new life offer us new life in him.

He knows we are but dust, and there is no length to which God will not go to rescue us and reclaim us and redeem us and bring us to that everlasting life he has promised us.

For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Our hope is in his patient, prodigal, and paternal love.

So, friends, Ash Wednesday is not an exercise in delusion, denying death, buffering ourselves against it.

We Christians have every reason to look the reality of death in the face and yet recognize there is one more powerful than death.

Indeed, one who in his resurrection has conquered death, and one who shows us the very heart of the love of God, his patient, prodigal, and paternal love for us, wayward sinners, whom he loves enough to redeem.

Lent is an invitation.

It is an invitation to draw near to God, perhaps by giving up those luxuries which distract us, perhaps by acknowledging the reality of our sin.

Perhaps acknowledging that we have not loved our neighbors as we ought to.

We have not loved God with our whole heart.

And when God brings those things to mind, now, now is the time to hand those over to Him and to ask for grace to make amendment of life and to walk in His holy ways.

Because His holy ways are life.

And for those of us who do, for those of us who turn as lowly wayward sinners towards our Father, we will not find a stern finger wag.

We will find arms wide ready to embrace us.

And we will rest assured of God's love for us.

God is full of compassion and mercy, long-suffering, and of great goodness.

Amen.

We hope that you've been blessed by God's word today.

If you live in the Port Perry area, we hope that you'll come and worship with us in person on Sunday at 10 a.m.

If you'd like to learn more about Newsong Church, we'd love to connect with you.

Please find our contact information at newsongportperry.ca and reach out to us.

Newsong's ministry is entirely funded by the generous giving of those who worship and journey with us.

If you feel called to support our ministry with a financial gift, please go to newsongportperry.ca slash giving to make your contribution.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.