The Battle Song of the Ages
The Psalms are a precious gift to the church. For sickness and health, in good times and bad, for better and for worse. Which is why it was a great kindness to us as a church that God had us queued up, coming off the Ten Commandments in mid March, to go right into the Psalms when this pandemic started, and pick up where we left off last summer.
The Psalms are enduringly relevant. From age to age, from century to century, from the height of the kingdom of Israel, to the depths of despair in exile, to Jesus’s own life and that final week in Jerusalem, to us today, in the fears and uncertainties of a global pandemic. Hard times are good times to be Christian, and good times to linger in the Psalms.
Liturgy for Battle
Today we turn to Psalm 20, which is a prayer for help in battle. This is for a sober and powerful moment in the life of the nation. Life and death are at stake. This is a kind of crisis moment; they are riding out for war, to kill or be killed.
Imagine the setting. The king and his army are dressed and ready for battle, swords in hand. The horses and chariots are ready. The people gather to send them out to fight on behalf of the nation. And so what do they do? They worship. They call up on God for his help and favor. And Psalm 20 is a kind of liturgy.
First, the people speak. That’s verses 1–5, and they pronounce a blessing on the king who is to lead the army. The “you” in verses 1–5 is the king. The people appeal to God to bless him and keep him. Protect him from threat, and provide for his desires to expand God’s kingdom and renown.
Then, in verse 6, a lone voice rings out. Maybe it’s the king, or the choirmaster, or the worship leader. Now the king is spoken of in the third person (“his anointed,” “him,” “the king”). Verses 6–8, then, are a burst of confidence. The petitions (“may . . . may . . . may . . .”) of verses 1–5 now become declarations of surety in verses 6–8 (“the Lord saves; he will answer”).
Finally, in verse 9, the whole congregation of the people speaks again, now directly to God, and they, “O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call.”
So here’s our plan this morning. We’ll start by reading the psalm in the days of King David. Then we’ll move forward half a century and consider how these words landed on Daniel in exile. Then we’ll fast forward another half century and read Psalm 20 with Jesus in the garden, the night before he died. Then, finally, we’ll read it together for us today, in 2020, in the midst of a global pandemic, both as individuals and as a church.
David on His Throne
So, first, imagine David on his throne, at the height of the kingdom. The people gather. The army is ready, with horses and chariots and swords. The horns sound. A silence falls on congregation. The choirmaster steps forward to call the soldiers and civilians to worship. First, the people together declare a blessing on the king. First for protection, verses 1–3:
May the Lord answer you in the day of trouble!
May the name of the God of Jacob protect you!
May he send you help from the sanctuaryand give you support from Zion!
May he remember all your offeringsand regard with favor your burnt sacrifices! Selah
There’s a moment of silence to let it sink in (Selah). Then the people resume the blessing, this time asking for God’s provision as the king not only seeks to fend off threats, but goes on the offensive to expand the kingdom, for the sake of God’s name, verses 4–5:
May he grant you your heart’s desireand fulfill all your plans!
May we shout for joy over your salvation,and in the name of our God set up our banners!
May the Lord fulfill all your petitions!
Then, there’s a change of speaker. Again, it may be the king himself, speaking of himself in third person, or maybe it’s the worship leader. Having heard the people’s blessing and prayer, now comes a burst of confidence, as the “mays” of petition turn to “wills” of God’s promises. Verses 6–8:
Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed;
he will answer him from his holy heavenwith the saving might of his right hand.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright.
Finally, verse 9, the people again speak. This time they appeal directly to God (prayer, rather than blessing), but instead of asking directly for their victory, they ask for their king’s: “O Lord, save the king!” And then they say to God, with the king listening, “May he [the king] answer us when we call.”
There are four clear stanzas here. Verses 1–3, ending with Selah. Then verses 4–5. Then the change in speaker, in verses 6–8, the burst of confidence. And finally, the people again in verse 9.
For David, in the first stanza, his “day of trouble” is not every day but specific threats, instances, whether advance or defense. As king he is head of the nation. The offerings and sacrifices signal the king is in right relationship with God, whether the regular pattern of religious life, or more likely, special sacrifices and offerings made for the battle, before riding out. And the people bank on the king being in right relation with God. They will be blessed in his blessing, and they will be cursed in his cursing.
For David, his “heart’s desire” in stanza 2 is the spreading of his kingdom, which is God’s kingdom, and the spreading of God’s name and fame. The calling of the nation as God’s special people is to expand and advance God’s name, and his people with him. Concern for God’s name (verses 1, 5, 7) is one of two main themes repeated three times in this battle psalm. God’s name, we might say, is a token of his self-revelation and his covenant with his people and his readiness to be called upon by his people, to answer them (that’s the other theme).
Stanza 3, then, is the burst of confidence, which we also saw back in Psalm 6. The “mays” of petition now become the “wills” of God’s promises (Kidner: “The fact that the time of trouble has been made the time of prayer makes the buoyant spirits of verses 6–8 a matter note of wishful optimism but of realistic faith,” 103).
God and his name is their trust. Chariots and horses (which David has) are means but not final cause. Mere human means and power and efforts will fail, but those who trust in God, and his name, will rise and stand—it’s just a matter of time.
Then, finally, stanza 4, one last petition: to save the king, and that he (the king), having been answered by God (verses 1, 6), would answer his people when they call. The people’s salvation is bound up in the salvation of their anointed king. He is their kingly mediator. As the king goes, so go the people. So the psalm begins with the people speaking blessing to the king for God to hear, and ends with the people praying to God for the king to hear.
For Daniel
Now fast forward 500 years. The nation of Israel has fallen from its heights under David and his son Solomon, splitting into two kingdoms. The northern kingdom was overrun by Assyria in 722 BC. Then the southern kingdom, Judah, was taken out by Babylon in 587 BC. A young man named Daniel was carried away with other exiles and lived all his adult life in Babylon. He interpreted the dreams of the King of Babylon and was promoted to the king’s court. But now he is an old man. He has outlived Babylon, which has been conquered by the Medes and Persians.
Imagine Daniel in his room, old-covenant believer in exile, far away from Jerusalem. He’s kneeling in the same spot where he will kneel to pray when they see him breaking the king’s order and throw him into the den of lions. But today, he’s longing for the restoration of kingdom, and he opens to Psalm 20. Better, he has Psalm 20 memorized and now he rehearses it in Babylon.
As Daniel prays, there is no singular human “you” over the people (though note Daniel 7 vision for “one like a son of man,” David’s long-promised heir, who one day will come). But that doesn’t mean this psalm ha expired. Perhaps Daniel feels that vacuum, among other losses, and so he prays the way he does in Daniel 9. And as he does so, he appeals, like Psalm 20, to God’s allegiance to his own name:
“O our God, listen to the prayer of your servant and to his pleas for mercy, and for your own sake, O Lord, make your face to shine upon your sanctuary, which is desolate. 18 O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy. 19 O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act. Delay not, for your own sake, O my God, because your city and your people are called by your name.” (Daniel 9:17–19)
For Daniel, and the exiles, their “day of trouble” (in stanza 1) is every day. For them, the temple lies in ruins; all offerings and sacrifices have ceased. Daniel prays on behalf of a people who have been devasted. Their city has been destroyed; they are in exile in a foreign land; and they are utterly dependent on mercy.
For Daniel and the exiles, their “heart’s desire” is restoration. Their plans and petitions are very modest: to get home and rebuild.
But even in exile, Daniel and the people can feel a burst of confidence as they lean utterly on their covenant-keeping God. They do not have the chariots and horses that David did. They know desperation in a way that the original worshipers of Psalm 20 did not. But they have their God. And he is just as committed to his name and his covenant. Still, it is only a matter of time until he acts. He has not forgotten his people. He will not ignore his name.
So, Daniel, even in exile, has confidence in God’s deliverance. Even in such desperation, even when restoration seems utterly impossible humanly speaking, Psalm 20 offers hope.
For Jesus
Now, fast forward 500 more years. The long-promised heir to David’s throne, the anointed one (the one Daniel saw as “one like a son of man”), indeed God himself, has finally come.
Imagine him praying the night before he died. And he prays for God’s rescue, to stay faithful in death, and then rise to new life. And he sees himself here in Psalm 20, as the anointed one, as the singular “you.”
For Jesus, his “day of trouble” — his “hour” — has come. Help comes from heaven itself, in an angel strengthening him (Luke 22:43). Jesus looks to no other sacrifice than the one he himself is about to offer, giving his own life to rescue God’s people.
For Jesus, his “heart’s desire” is to glorify his Father. He prays in John 17:1, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you.” He looks to “the joy that was set before him” and being “seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). He has given himself, like none before him, or after, to God’s name: “I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world” (John 17:6). And he offers his petition, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42). Hebrews 5:7 says, “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.” God will raise him.
Even as grave as this hour is, even as he sweats drops of blood, he is not without confidence. From the cross itself will come his bursts of confidence: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” (Luke 23:46). He trusts in his Father, not the human means of power like chariots and horses and swords. (When Peter had drawn a sword, and struck a servant of the high priest, Jesus said, “No more of this!” Luke 22:51.)
For the moment, the cross will look like utter defeat, but it’s only a matter of time, three days, unil vindication and God answers by raising him from the dead. Like Abraham at Mount Moriah, “He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead” (Hebrews 11:19).
So, Jesus, even at the cross, has confidence in the face of sin and death, the ultimate foes, that God will deliver him.
For You
Finally, two thousand years forward now to 2020. For us as his people. As God’s new covenant people, we gather in worship, and our singular “you” is Jesus, utterly worth, seated at God’s right hand. And in him, we know God hears our prayers and answers. All God’s promises are Yes in him. This psalm is not only for David, and Daniel, and Jesus. It is for you.
For us, our “day of trouble” is every day in some measure (Matthew 6:34), though not like exile, and not like the cross. Yet now, in 2020, in an unusual way. We find ourselves in a global pandemic, and unable to gather by the hundreds on Sunday mornings. This is a day of trouble for our city and our nation and the whole world like we haven’t seen in our lifetimes. And it’s a time of trouble for all of us to varying degrees, and in some sense for our church.
So we ask for God’s protection. God, protect our homes, our children, our neighbors, our businesses. Protect our church.
What about verse 7? What are our chariots and horses today? Our trust, in this war on the virus, is not in a vaccine, or in enough hospital beds and ventilators. And our trust, as Christians, and as a church, is not in stimulus money and in social distancing. We do not reject those means, those chariots and horses. In fact, we ask for the ones we don’t have (a vaccine) and we use the ones we do, but we don’t trust in them. We trust in God. And not just “God” but “the name of the Lord our God.” We trust in Jesus. Jesus, for your name’s sake, strength us and our church in these days. Make your name shine in the midst of global panic and distress. Call us all to repentance, and work in us a sweeter and richer and purer treasuring of you and all you offer us by faith.
And what confidence we can have, even in the midst of such days. We know our helper to be the divine Spirit, whom we have dwelling in us, and our offering to be the once-for-all sacrifice of God himself in Christ.
For us, what about our “heart’s desire”? What is that for you? And has the pandemic refined it yet?
As a church, our heart’s desire is to make Jesus known, and enjoyed, in these Twin Cities, through making disciples in distance and depth; through baptizing new Christians and teaching them to observe all Jesus commanded; through multiplying groups and planting churches.
How about stanza 3 and our burst of confidence, when our “mays” become “wills”? Brothers and sisters in Christ, Cities Church, God hears our prayer. He will answer and give us what we need. God and his name is our trust. Our chariots and horses — our building, our finances, our theology and teaching, our pastors and CG leaders, Nick and the band, our people — are means but not our trust. They are important and secondary (at best). But God, and his faithfulness to his name, is our comfort and security in these days, and at all times.
And one thing he is showing us, among countless other things, is that he is the God of a people, his church. Not a building, not an event. Not 75 minutes/week, but all 168 hours. Hopefully we all are learning the preciousness of other people, and relationships, and social nearness, and hugs and handshakes. How much have we taken people for granted, and perhaps especially the people of God?
Our God is not just the God of persons but the God of a people, a special people, a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a people for his own possession, called the church. Cities Church, we are a people. We are not a building. We are not a Sunday morning event. We are not a team of pastors. We are a people. And we are not alone as God’s people in our city and in this world and in history.
And even as precious as these people are becoming to us, we dare not trust in them. We trust in the name of the Lord our God.