A Dwelling Place for Dust

I've given this the title, well you could predict it from what we just heard Jeff read to us,

A Dwelling Place for Dust.

Because we heard, Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

So before we begin, let's pray.

Dear Lord, we thank you that we can gather here in this place.

We thank you for the hospitality of this school.

We thank you for all the children and their teachers.

We thank you so much for all your many blessings.

And we ask now as we come to hear from your word that you would incline our hearts to be attentive,

to trust as we come to celebrate the Lord's Supper,

that we would also receive from you what you offer us as we receive it with open hands and by faith.

And we ask these things in Jesus' name. Amen.

Amen.

Well, I'm not a philosopher,

but if I was asked to think philosophically about the way our culture has wrestled with the most basic human longings,

I'd probably take us to the 60s.

And so I hope you'll humor me as I take us back to the 60s.

How many of us were around at the time?

A few of us. Fantastic.

It was in 1967, excuse me, that the Beatles told us,

all you need is love.

And it seems the spirit of the age was calling us to kind of love our way into a harmonious collective.

Imagine all the people living life in peace, said and preached John Lennon.

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.

I hope someday you'll join us and the world will live as one.

I think it was still in the 60s, 1969, I think,

that another John, John Denver,

tried to respond to a deep sense of pessimism about the future.

If you know John Denver's music, he has songs about life and love and the environment,

and some of them become somewhat philosophical.

He hears his friends say to him,

so you speak to me of sadness and the coming of the winter.

Likely referring to the sense of impending doom.

What with war, ecological crisis, corrupt and authoritarian governments that made things worse.

And he says to his friend,

you wonder where we're going, where's the rhyme, where's the reason?

And the prophet's answer comes,

you probably remember it,

the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers.

They're a promise of the future and a blessing for today.

Now, here's a little confession.

This evangelical little fella, missionary kid,

if I ever venerated anyone in a big way, it was John Denver.

Him and Roger Staubach, who was my hero.

Got to meet Roger Staubach.

Anybody know who he was?

Is? I think he's still alive.

He was quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys back when I still watched a lot of football.

And got to meet him in Mexico City.

John Denver was my other idol.

I listened to just about everything he sang.

And so you can imagine when he visited in Moscow,

when I happened to be studying there,

I made arrangements to get to go meet him,

along with some of my classmates,

because he was singing with Jim Henson

at the American Ambassadors residence there in Moscow

in about October, November of 1984.

We all got to actually talk to him.

And so you can imagine how delighted I was.

Anyway, that's all part of the confession part.

Take you back to the 60s, because that's where we still are.

John Denver was writing that song probably right in the wake

of all of those student uprisings that happened in Prague and Paris

and all over the place, in the States and in Mexico City.

One of those student uprisings happened, believe it or not,

just blocks from where we were living.

The Tlatelolco uprising that led to the massacre of about 500 students,

maybe, maybe more, the Mexican army coming in and doing the job.

Well, let me take you even a few years further back to 1963,

when another poet, this time a man named John Robinson,

a theologian and bishop,

decided to write this little book.

This is even an edition from that year, 1963, Honest to God.

You can see there the philosopher thinking,

well, maybe philosopher, maybe,

I don't know how you interpret that sculpture there,

but the idea is that we're under the weight

of heaviness of questions about God.

And he's writing this book because he's picked up on the fact

that as a culture in the West,

we've more or less started to give up on the idea

that God is there, objectively speaking.

In other words, that he's sovereign Lord in relation to creation.

Bishop Robinson said this,

okay, so we don't believe that God is up there and out there anymore,

so, well, let me propose maybe another metaphor.

Let me propose a metaphor that God is the ground of our being.

He borrowed from Paul Tillich.

And from that point, it was fashionable,

it became fashionable to think of God as part of the world process.

And that truth, consequently,

is something that we more or less make up as we go along.

Truth about what is good, what is right, what is lovely,

especially what is right.

The big term was situational ethics and how everything was contextual,

which is one of those wonderful little half-truths

where you can kind of sneak in a whole pack of lies.

And this little book made an impact right into Mexico City

where a man walked into the bookshop that we ran there

and informed my dad that this book had made of him an atheist.

And he was a Christian leader.

So, all of this, what's the word we hear today about deconstructing?

Well, it was already happening through the influence of books like these.

So, what's my point in this little excursion into the 60s?

Well, my point is that there are three basic human needs

that only God can satisfy.

We may settle for a kind of free love

and for this worldly hopes and ideas

where we're turned in on ourselves,

but our real needs are these.

First, for fellowship,

for the security that we enjoy when we know who we are

in relation to God and others.

Second, for lasting purpose.

And third, for truth,

the kind of truth that can only come from the one who made us

and who can tell us what our real condition is

and what is the rhyme and where is the reason.

If we were among God's people around a thousand years before Jesus was born,

we would have already known what those three basic longings were

when we sang Psalm 27.

And I'm thinking of verse 4 in particular.

You perhaps know it well.

Maybe it's a psalm you've memorized.

One thing I have desired of the Lord,

says David,

that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.

Do you know the rest?

To gaze upon the beauty of the Lord

and to inquire in his temple.

I could almost use that as the text for what I want to share,

but I'm going to take us into Psalm 90.

But the one thing there that David asks for

turns out to be a triple blessing, doesn't it?

He longs for a relationship with God,

where God dwells.

He wants to find delight and purpose in Him

and in the beauty of His creation.

And he wants to receive the truth that God imparts

in the temple.

So make a mental note of those three things,

if you haven't already.

Fellowship, purpose, and truth.

Because we're going to come back to them.

So let me back up 400 more years

to Psalm 90,

which God gave us through Moses.

Maybe you didn't know that Moses wrote that psalm.

But the psalm is ordinarily read on today,

the first Sunday in Lent.

So it's especially appropriate

that we are looking at it together.

But I can also add that as I've pondered

the oldest psalm in the people of Israel's prayer book,

I found it to be especially encouraging

as an antidote to the message

of our 1960s poet prophets.

So I invite you, if you have your Bibles,

to look at it with me now.

And I would divide the psalm into two parts.

The first part, verses 1 to 11,

and the remainder afterwards.

Because in this first part,

we learn about who God is,

but not just in the abstract,

but about who God is in relation to us.

John Calvin, probably from such psalms like this,

started off his great institutes of the Christian religion

with the idea that we cannot know God

unless we know ourselves.

And we can't know ourselves unless we know God,

so that these things are intertwined.

So who is God,

as he himself teaches us through Moses?

Well, the first verse says,

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.

So from the way Moses addresses God,

we learn that he is Adonai, or Lord.

This means sovereign ruler

with supreme power and authority over all things.

But, as I pointed out,

notice in the very next breath,

Moses declares who God is in relation to us.

You have been our dwelling place.

And why is this so important, so significant?

Well, it's significant because

our knowledge of God, according to Scripture,

isn't the kind of knowledge

that's somehow disconnected from the human story.

Yes, God is Lord of the universe,

but he's seen fit not to sit idly by,

as Calvin said in his commentary.

I don't think it was on this psalm,

but he said he's seen fit not to sit idly by up in heaven,

but rather to turn towards us with his favor,

and even to provide a home for us.

To provide a home for us in himself.

And this was especially encouraging,

because Moses was likely in the wilderness,

not yet in the promised land.

And the truth that God is our home

was especially comforting to the people of Israel.

In our earthly pilgrimage,

God shows himself to be our refuge,

the one who satisfies us with security and shelter.

Right from the start,

he's a God for us.

And we know him because he's taken the initiative

to make himself known.

So consider some of the other attributes,

the other qualities of God.

Verse 2 says,

Before the mountains were brought forth,

or ever you had formed the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

Here we acknowledge that God is everlasting creator

of the universe.

But notice again,

how this leads directly to a truth about ourselves.

The fact is,

if you consider this phrase,

from everlasting to everlasting,

well, the force of it

only really comes home to us

as God tells us in verse 3

that we have an expiry date.

You return man to dust, it says.

Return, O children of man.

The season of Lent

is a time when we're invited

to ponder the truth that we're dust.

Not just like dust,

but dust.

In an intentional, focused way.

But I don't think,

and Daniel pointed to this already,

I don't think the point is

to make us focus on the fact

that we're dust for its own sake.

But rather to help us with that knowledge

to look up to God.

That's the whole point of Psalm 90.

I think you'll see what I mean

as I emphasize,

what I'm going to emphasize

in verses 4 to 6

as I read them.

For a thousand years in your sight

are but as yesterday when it is past,

or as a watch in the night.

You sweep them away

as with a flood.

They are like a dream,

like grass that is renewed in the morning.

In the morning it flourishes

and is renewed.

In the evening it fades and withers.

Now the point here

is not that life is an illusion.

The point is that

from God's point of view,

it's as if time meant nothing.

It's as if our lives were a dream.

Some poets

have liked to play with the idea

that life is a dream.

But here it's as if it were.

The truth is

there's nothing more real,

more solid even,

more enduring

than dwelling in God's house.

There's another truth

about who God is.

Apart from being sovereign Lord

and creator,

he is also holy.

And this quality,

yet again,

is explained

in relation to

how it bears on us.

So look with me at verses 7 to 10.

For we are brought to an end

by your anger.

By your wrath

we are dismayed.

You have set

our iniquities before you,

our secret sins

in the light

of your presence.

For all our days

pass away under your wrath.

We bring our years

to an end

like a sigh.

The years of our life

are 70

or

even by reason of strength

80.

Yet their span

is but toil and trouble.

They are soon gone

and we fly away.

So here we see

God's holiness

on full display,

don't we?

Since there is no darkness

in him,

as 1 John 1, 5

tells us,

well, he does right

to bring our lives

to an end.

He has

full rights

to bring our lives

to an end

on account of our wickedness.

It's hard

to grasp this

in our sentimental age.

But it's true.

Moses is especially

concerned to emphasize

that secret dimension,

that hidden dimension

of sin.

The part that we think

we can hide from God.

The truth is

when God

looks at us,

he sees right into us,

doesn't he?

And as we say

in the Collect for Purity,

from him no secrets

are hidden.

We say it all the time.

And his judgment,

therefore,

applies

to the attitudes

of the heart.

So much of what

the Reformation

was all about,

so much of,

in its most basic form,

was about

reforming

inward things,

right?

even though

the Reformers

disagreed

on how much

of the outward things

needed to be reformed.

But at heart,

it was about

a reformation

of inward things

first,

as a first priority.

At this point,

we say,

well,

wait a minute,

I really quite like

this lovely image

of God

being our refuge

and dwelling place,

and I love

the majestic

bringing forth

the mountains

part of it all.

But what about

this anger

business?

That doesn't sound

like good news.

Well,

it isn't

at first glance,

and verse 11

doesn't seem

to make things

a whole lot better,

because that verse

reads,

if you're following

with me still,

who considers

the power

of your anger

and your wrath

according to

the fear of you?

Well,

I think the sense

of this verse

is something

like this.

God

is a God

whose anger

and wrath

we simply

can't fathom,

which is to say

we don't know

how to think

of it

in proportion

or relation

to who he is.

But from there,

well,

what does Moses say?

Well,

does he say,

well,

why should we bother?

I was once

talking to a

Saudi man

in Cairo,

asking him

what he thought

of God,

and he said

to me,

well,

if you think

about God

for more than

a few minutes,

you go crazy.

And that was

to change the subject,

that we just

shifted the subject

right away.

But Moses

carries on.

He says,

well,

what does he do?

He calls on God

for help.

Sometimes you and I,

when we feel stuck,

when it comes

to knowing God's ways,

we tend to either

give up

or to invent

things of our own.

We like to fashion

God in our image,

maybe like a nice

but forgetful

old granddad,

sort of like what

a couple of my

grandkids

are hoping

I'll kind of

stay with

for a little longer.

The fact is,

God is holy

and just.

Which means

that his anger

over sin

and rebellion

is real.

It's not,

if you like,

that eccentric

and occasional

part of God

who is mostly

a God of love.

Here's a bit

of theology.

Okay?

His love

is whole

and complete,

lacking nothing,

not diminished

by his other qualities.

His holiness

is whole

and complete,

lacking nothing,

not diminished

by his other qualities.

Which means

God's anger

is a righteous one,

it's a holy one.

And it has to be

because it's

perfectly consistent

with his goodness

and his mercy.

And that's the good news

we want to focus

as we move into

the second half

of the psalm,

verses 12 to 17.

It's because of God's

kindness

that we can

come boldly

to him

with our requests.

It's because of

God's kindness

that as dust

we have a dwelling place.

To refer

back to

Psalm 27

again,

it's because

he's our light

and our salvation

in the first place

that we can say

with confidence

that our one desire

is to dwell

in his house,

to seek

his beauty

and to inquire

in his temple.

So as we go through

these last verses

of Psalm 90,

I want to highlight

those three,

I want to highlight

three practical lessons

that are in it for us.

Apart from addressing

our basic needs,

they can serve us today

as we seek

to be renewed

and to be reformed

by God's word.

The first need

that Moses addresses

is our need

for truth.

It's not in the order

that we saw earlier,

but there it is.

The need for truth

is the one

that comes first.

It's in verse 12.

So teach us

to number our days

that we may get

a heart of wisdom.

I want to ponder that

with you

a few moments.

The point here

is this.

We know

that we're dust,

but what does it mean

to learn this fact

from God?

Have you thought

about that?

In the churchyard

of the little

Lutheran church

that my daughter

and her family

were attending

for a while

back when they lived

in Alberta

near Barhead

a few years ago,

I happened to notice

that many of the graves

belonged to children

who had died

as infants.

Now,

on a purely human level,

just walking

through a cemetery

reminds us,

just in a human sense,

whether we've trusted

God or not,

that life is brief,

doesn't it?

I also remember,

just as another

little personal anecdote,

a visit to my cardiologist

in Vancouver.

I'm sure Stella

was with me.

She remembers it too.

Probably 1989 or 90.

I had had heart surgery

as a teenager,

and so this was

a routine checkup,

and I remember

he said something like,

Steve, I expect

you'll live

your whole lifespan.

Now, of course,

that's good news,

isn't it?

But it caught me

a little off guard,

and I'm assuming

that's why you're chuckling.

In those decades of life

when not too many

of us worry,

much about death,

I'm not sure

that I thought

of life,

a lifespan,

as something

that I actually had.

But again,

sooner or later

we come to know

this sort of thing

pretty naturally.

So, back to my point.

What's the,

what's the,

what does it mean

to learn

that we're finite

from God?

Well, the answer

is quite simple.

But we are the ones

who complicate it.

We complicate things

by becoming proficient

at counting things

except the number

of our days.

And we tally up

our assets,

in our academic case,

our publications,

our accolades,

maybe the number

of likes we have

on our latest video

that we've posted,

and we imagine

ourselves to be wise

in all of that.

And yet,

we become fools.

And that's why

Moses says,

what we need

from you, Lord,

is wisdom

in this matter.

So, teach us

to count

our days.

Well, I think

that when we make

that our prayer,

and we really,

really make it

our prayer,

what we learn

is that our

relatively brief

appearance

is a gift

from God.

And if it's a gift,

then other things

apply,

like gratitude

in the first instance,

and stewardship

as well.

When I think

of the idea

so common today

that God

is part

of the world

process,

I realize

what good news

this is.

Think of it.

if God

is an impersonal

force

that animates

the world,

well,

just how

or where

is gratitude

supposed to

actually register?

Talk about

being thankful

today,

don't we,

even in

ordinary discourse.

Or is there

even a temple

to inquire in?

The temple

always being

that place,

that meeting

place,

where we

inquire,

where God

meets us,

and we

are able

to hear

what he

has to say?

Well,

I don't think

so.

But with

Psalm 90,

we can be

sure that

we're giving

thanks to

a God

who is

there,

and who

by his

word and

spirit

actually

renews

our minds,

making us

wise unto

salvation,

as Paul

says to

Timothy

in 2

Timothy 3

15.

Well,

what's the

second basic

need that

Moses addresses?

Well,

it follows

right in

the next

few verses.

It's the

need for

fellowship,

for intimacy.

Verses

13 to

15 invite

us to

ask for

three more

things from

God.

And what

are they?

Well,

the first

is,

return,

O Lord,

have pity

on your

servants.

Back in

verse 3,

we acknowledge

that God

returns us

to dust.

And knowing

that he

has the

power to

do that,

now we

ask of

him,

will you

please now

return to

us?

Will you

come with

your mercy

and your

power?

Now,

in the

light of

God's

revelation

in Jesus,

what we're

praying is,

come Lord

Jesus,

Maranatha.

And as

Peter says

in 2

Peter 3,

we can

even hasten

that day

as we

pursue

godliness.

It's

quite a

truth to

ponder.

The second

and third

requests

come right

together in

verses 14

and 15.

Satisfy us

in the

morning with

your steadfast

love,

that we

may rejoice

and be

glad all

our days,

and then

make us

glad for

as many

days as

you have

afflicted us,

and for

as many

years as

we have

seen evil.

Moses here

is giving

us words

to call

on God

early in

the day,

asking him

to keep

us in

his care

and to

give us

joy in

the midst

of the

troubles

that we're

inevitably

going to

face.

So these

three requests

speak of a

God who

gives us

himself as

our dwelling

place,

who teaches

us who

we are

in

relation

to

him,

and only

his love

really

endures.

Only a

relationship

with him

results in

gladness.

So this

brings us

to the

third basic

need,

which is

for purpose.

When I say

purpose,

I mean

direction,

and it's

bound up

logically in

these psalms

with beauty

and for the

glory,

to see

God's

glory.

In the

next two

verses,

Moses

invites us

to pray

like this,

let your

work be

shown to

your

servants.

And here's

the glory

part,

and your

glorious

power to

their

children.

Let the

favor of

the Lord

our God

be upon

us,

and establish

the work

of our

hands upon

us.

Yes,

establish

the work

of our

hands.

So,

to recap,

what have we

asked for

in this

psalm?

Well,

we've

asked God

to teach

us,

and we've

asked Him

to be

present with

us,

with His

love,

with His

steadfast

love,

and now

what are we

asking for?

Well,

we're asking

Him to do

His work

through His

people,

by His

power,

and for the

benefit of

generations that

are to come.

What a

glorious thing

to be asking

for,

which is to

say,

we're looking

to Him for

hope and

direction as

we await

His promise.

We're asking

that His

will will be

done on

earth as

it is in

heaven.

We're asking

to see

something of

His power

and glory

on display,

because we

want to see

its impact

in the world

around us.

So,

here's the

question for

us.

Given the,

it's not

an exaggeration

to say we're

living in

times of

cultural upheaval.

Given that,

how should we

trust God

for a renewed

vision that's

full of this

hope that

Moses talks

about?

Well,

I can say

with certainty

that it

can't happen

simply by

bringing new

people into

power and

changing the

systems that

are there.

This is,

of course,

not a call

to be

disengaged

or unengaged

from our

communities,

our cities,

and nation.

That's where

God has put

us.

But it is a

reminder that

real change

only happens

when and as

God changes

hearts.

I love how

J.I.

Packer put

it.

There is no

peace like

the peace of

those whose

minds are

possessed

with full

assurance

that they

have known

God

and God

has known

them

and that

this

relationship

guarantees

God's favor

to them

in life

through death

and on

forever.

The peace

that God

gives us

in relationship

with him.

So the

question is

this.

Have we

actually come

to know

this God

who knew

us first

and has

known us

first before

we even

thought to

seek him

out?

If so,

I believe

we can live

with true

purpose

because ultimately

we leave

the business

of changing

hearts to

him and

then with

that when

we're confident

that he

does just

that as

he's promised,

we simply

bear witness

to the

things he's

done and

has promised

to do.

I think we

can do this

in a host

of ways

according to

our individual

gifts and

talents and

opportunities,

but I'll

just,

to end,

I'll just

mention one

of the ways

we can tell

others of

what God

has done

today.

Here's what

we're up

against.

We're up

against a

post-Christian

culture that

says either

there's no

God or

that if there

is a God

there's no

way to really

know this

God.

I mean,

that's simply

what you would

find out

taking a

poll out

there.

So what

are we

left with?

Well,

in practice

we're left

with two

things.

We have a

simple public

rule,

don't hurt

or offend

anyone,

but of course

that doesn't

get us very

far because

sometimes love

hurts and

the truth

can sometimes

be offensive

even if we

don't intend

to cause

offense.

The other

thing we're

left with

are intuitions

about what

is true and

right and

good,

which we

can't really

impose on

anyone.

But then

our supposedly

open and

tolerant world,

and it's not

just here,

but it's in

many,

many places,

in our

tolerant world

we find a

way to impose

a kind of

heavy-handed

moralism that

supposedly gives

us the tools

to know and

to identify

who the

really nasty

people are

and who the

good people

are.

It's really

quite remarkable,

isn't it?

And it

offers no

relief from

the burden

of guilt

and sin.

So what's

our response?

If we know

we're sinners

saved by grace,

well, we

really have no

business running

around calling

out the nasty

people, the

haters who

are on the

wrong side of

history, whatever

that might mean.

We just need

to point people

to the one,

the only one

who can rescue

us.

If Jesus is

indeed the truth

and the way

and the life,

as he said,

so that no

one comes to

the Father

except through

him, then we

simply present

him, as Leslie

Newbigin said

some years ago

so nicely, we

simply present

him in all

his glory,

grace, and

beauty.

We simply

speak of

that Jesus

in all his

glory, grace,

and beauty.

Well, in the

light of the

things that we've

looked at this

morning, it's

in Jesus we

can say that

we find our

identity as

adopted children

of God.

It's through

Jesus that we

have truth.

How?

Well, as his

words abide in

us, as he

promised, and

giving us the

assurance that we

have been raised

with him.

And it's through

him and for his

glory that we

contemplate the

wonder and the

beauty of the

Lord, even as we

learn to count our

days.

So shall we

pray.

Father, once

again, we thank

you for your

word, for your

Holy Spirit who

convicts us, who

shows us our

need of you, and

we ask that you

would do just

that once again

as we continue

to pray together,

to hear, to

attend to your

word visible in

the breaking of

the bread.

Teach us day by

day to walk with

you more closely

as we learn to

count our days.

This we ask in

Jesus' name.

Amen.