These Are Our People

These Are Our People
Max Kozak

Psalm 106,

Praise the Lord!
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever!
2 Who can utter the mighty deeds of the Lord,
    or declare all his praise?
3 Blessed are they who observe justice,
    who do righteousness at all times!

4 Remember me, O Lord, when you show favor to your people;
    help me when you save them,
5 that I may look upon the prosperity of your chosen ones,
    that I may rejoice in the gladness of your nation,
    that I may glory with your inheritance.

6 Both we and our fathers have sinned;
    we have committed iniquity; we have done wickedness.

Mark Twain famously said that history doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes. That’s why I love reading narrative nonfiction. Whether it’s Shackleton, or John Adams, there is something uniquely “sticky” about gleaning important lessons other men have learned in the context of hearing their stories. And that’s what we’ll see the Psalmist setting out to do here, in Psalm 106.

Similar to last week, the bulk of this Psalm is another recounting of Israel’s history. And the story pretty much picks up where we left off last week. God has demonstrated his mighty power and covenant love by rescuing his people out of Egypt — and now, finally, Israel is about to cross the Red Sea and be on their way to the promised land. But although the story continues, the focus shifts. Psalm 106 has been described as “the dark counterpart to Psalm 105,” because its main focus is on the sin and rebellion of God’s people. And we need to see both. Let’s pray again, and then we’ll jump in.

Father, you are a mighty God who shows steadfast love to his covenant people. That was true when you led Israel out of Egypt to the promised land — and it’s true now, as you lead us by your Spirit, through your Word. Help us to see and receive what you want to show us this morning in your Word, I pray in Jesus name, amen.

1. The Tension: Blessing Belongs to the Righteous

Before we get into the story, we notice that there is a tension introduced in the first few verses that continues throughout this Psalm.

After calling Israel to praise the Lord and give him thanks (v.1–2), the Psalmist reminds Israel that blessing belongs to the righteous: “blessed are they who observe justice, who do righteousness at all times.” (v. 3)

He then personally appeals to God’s blessing — asking that he would get in on the prosperity, gladness, and glory of God’s covenant people (v.5). He says remember me (when you show favor to your people). Help me (when you save them). He wants to be included in their prosperity and the blessings of their inheritance.

But if you read ahead, you’ll say time out, this makes no sense.

First, we’ll see later in the Psalm that Israel is in exile when this psalm is written. The “prosperity and gladness” that he wants to get in on is far from Israel’s current reality.

Second, he’s just linked God’s blessing to righteousness, but the history that he then goes to great lengths to recount reveals that Israel’s track record is the opposite of righteousness. And remember, God’s covenant with Israel includes not just blessings for obedience, but also, curses for disobedience (laid out famously in Deuteronomy 28). And as we go through the story we’ll see that it’s the curses, not the blessings that fit Israel’s track record.

So that’s the elephant in the room — the tension from the start is this: if blessing belongs to the righteous, how can the psalmist identify himself with Israel’s wickedness, and yet appeal to God’s blessing?

2. Israel’s Dark Pattern of Sin

The story picks up in v.6:

“Both we and our fathers have sinned; we have committed iniquity; we have done wickedness.”

Now, before we analyze the story, it’s important to recognize what he’s not doing and what he is doing. First, He is not denouncing or rejecting his heritage. It’s clear in verses 4 and 5 that he has tied his identity to God’s chosen nation. “Ride or die,” he has linked his fate to that of God’s covenant people. At the same time he is not hiding their wickedness. He calls sin, sin, no matter where he sees it. There is no protecting reputations or sugarcoating here.

It’s also worth noting that he is not “taking on” or “repenting for” his father’s sins. There is no “group guilt” going on here. Scripture is clear:

“Each will give an account of himself to God.” (Rom 14:12)

And yet, he’s honest enough to see himself in their story. He does not say “well if it were me in that wilderness, man, I’d do better” — the arrogant attitude that C.S. Lewis calls “chronological snobbery.”

Instead, he leads us through a hard, honest look at Israel’s history, and a hard honest look at his own heart to identify the dark pattern of sin and rebellion that cuts through every human heart.

“Both we and our fathers have sinned.”

If last week’s history lesson was meant to show us: “wow, this is our God,” this week’s history lesson reveals the flip side of the coin: “uff, these are our people.”

The Red Sea (vv. 7-12)

And we see their first failure at the Red Sea. Israel is on the cusp of leaving Egypt. They are about to walk free after 400 years of slavery. God had absolutely humiliated Pharaoh. Round after round, demonstrating both his power and his covenant love through his Judgement on Egypt, culminating in the death of every firstborn, and making Pharaoh finally relent and let Israel go. So here they are — their Fourth of July moment. And we see rebellion right at the starting line.

“Our fathers, when they were in Egypt, did not consider your wondrous works; they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love, but rebelled by the sea, at the Red Sea.” (v. 7)

Pharaoh changes his mind, the Israelites see the chariots coming, and they turn on Moses and God saying “did you bring us out here to die?! Didn’t we tell you in Egypt to leave us alone?”

The Psalmist’s first charge begins with “they did not consider God’s works” — literally, they gave them no thought — “And forgot the abundance of his love.” Not paying attention, and forgetting, are high-stakes moral offenses, when it comes to our posture towards God. Remembering is a reflection of what we value, and God has given his people provisions for our remembering with many rhythms, disciplines, and reminders to reinforce our attentiveness to Him. Take advantage of them! Meditate on his word daily, tell of his wondrous works to one another, teach them to your children!

But instead, Israel’s forgetting here reveals their disregard for God and it results in rebellion. Yet God still intervened: He split the sea, destroyed the Egyptian army, and brought them out of Egypt. And for a brief moment, “they believed his word and sang his praise” (v.12). 

And they lived happily ever after … right?

No, instead, we see the fickleness of their trust immediately in the next verse.

Wilderness Cravings (vv. 13-15)

“But they soon forgot his works; they did not wait for his counsel. 14 But they had a wanton craving in the wilderness, and put God to the test in the desert; 15 he gave them what they asked, but sent a wasting disease among them.” (v. 13)

Instead of delighting in the Lord who just saved them, they forget again, and their hearts are corrupted by disordered desires.

They had “wanton cravings” for food — literally translates “they crave-craved” food — to the point of putting God to the test: trying to manipulate God into proving himself to them on their terms.

There is nothing wrong with their desire for meat, nor with asking God to provide good things we crave. But when you combine forgetting God and disordered desires, our cravings become deadly. Yet God gives them the meat they wanted, and his anger came with it in a wasting disease, where many people died, giving that place the name “graves of craving.”

The Coup Against Moses (vv. 16-18)

We’ll skip over verses 16-18, but basically a group of prominent men, driven by jealousy rises up against Moses in a coup … God intervenes … the ground opens and swallows the leaders alive … and fire from heaven consumes the rest.

The Golden Calf (vv. 19-23)

Then comes the infamous golden calf episode. Verse 19:

“They made a calf in Horeb and worshiped a metal image. 20 They exchanged the glory of God for the image of an ox that eats grass. 21 They forgot God, their Savior, who had done great things in Egypt, 22 wondrous works in the land of Ham, and awesome deeds by the Red Sea. 23 Therefore he said he would destroy them—had not Moses, his chosen one, stood in the breach before him, to turn away his wrath from destroying them.”

Israel forgets again, and this time the whole nation rebels in idolatry. Instead of worshipping God, their savior, they chose to worship pretty much the most pathetic thing they could find. An ox, (that’s a male cow) that eats grass. It was pathetic, but more importantly, it was deeply wicked, and a betrayal of their God. And we see its seriousness in verse 23:

“Therefore he said he would destroy them—had not Moses, his chosen one, stood in the breach before him, to turn away his wrath from destroying them.”

After everything from Abraham to Moses, God was ready to wipe them out and start over with Moses. That’s the gravity of the situation. And there’s no doubt that they deserved destruction, on the spot — ground opening up, or fire coming down. But Moses stands in the breach — a military image: when a wall has been breached, the city’s about to get sacked except for a champion who steps into the gap, inserting himself to rescue the people.

So what’s going on here? Is Moses opposing God? Was God overreacting? Not at all. God is displaying here both the gravity of their sin, while also laying the groundwork for what it will ultimately take to deal with it. God wants Israel to know that the only thing that kept them from experiencing the just wrath of God was God’s chosen one interceding on their behalf. And because of Moses’ intercession, the flood of God’s wrath is held back, at least for now, and without any delusions about what their sin deserves.

The Spies Refuse the Promise (vv. 24–27)

Then, on the very edge of the promised land, twelve spies are sent to scout it out. Ten of them give a cowardly report that ignites fear in the nation: “giants, fortified cities, no chance.” And Israel, again, ignores God’s promise.

“They despised the pleasant land, having no faith in his promise” (v.24).

The result: an entire generation dies in the wilderness, without entering the promised land.

Phinehas’ Intercession (vv. 28–31)

Fast forward to verse 28. Israel is now in Moab, right on the doorstep of the land, and they rebel again. This time they join themselves to the Moabites by worshiping their pagan idols and committing sexual immorality with them. So God’s anger breaks out in a deadly plague against his people.

And here in the midst of this plague, someone again intercedes — but this time it looks a little different. Phinehas (Aaron’s grandson) sees a blatant demonstration of rebellion happening openly between a leading Israelite man and a prominent Moabite woman, so he grabs his spear, and executes judgment on both: with one thrust, deals with sin on the spot. And as the text says:

“he intervened, and the plague was stayed, and that was counted to him as righteousness from generation to generation forever” (v.30–31).

“Intervened” is an interesting choice of word. It’s that intercession language again. Moses turned away God’s wrath through intercessory pleading. Phinehas turns away God’s wrath through intercessory action, executing justice for sin on the spot. Both are described as acts of intercession that hold back the flood of God’s judgement against Israel, for now.

And there’s an important application for us here: Confront sin in your life head-on. Do not coddle sin, or it will destroy you. That requires calling sin what it is, and not concealing it. Phinehas confronted sin out of his righteous Zeal for the Lord and out of his love for his people. So confront sin starting with your own heart, and then commit to helping one another confront sin in Life Groups. The stakes are too high for a Minnesota-Nice coddling of sin. Sin dishonors God and when left unchecked will destroy you! Help each other root it out, in love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend.

Defiling the Land (vv. 34–40)

Fast forward to verse 34. Israel is finally in the promised land. You’d think, after everything they’ve been through, they would have learned. Instead, once they’re finally in the land, they again, immediately disregard what God commands. God had told them to destroy the Canaanites, but instead…

“They did not destroy the peoples, as the Lord commanded them, 35 but they mixed with the nations and learned to do as they did. 36 They served their idols, which became a snare to them. 37 They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons; 38 they poured out innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was polluted with blood. 39 Thus they became unclean by their acts, and played the whore in their deeds. 40 Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against his people, and he abhorred his heritage;”

Instead of obeying God and executing righteous judgement (like Phinehas) to remove the evil from the land, they became just like them. They served their gods, and polluted the land with the blood of their own sons and daughters whom they sacrificed to demons!

These are dark, dark verses. It should make us sick to our stomach. And it’s an important reminder of the trajectory of sin. It is never satisfied staying where it is. It always drags you further and further into darkness, long before you see it’s true ugliness.

What’s our view of sin? Does it make us sick? There’s an ever-present danger of minimizing sin and there are many reasons for this. For one, the world around us celebrates it, and it’s easy to grow accustomed to it. But also, because we’ve never seen the full extent of it’s depravity. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve seen enough. But, throughout all of history, in countless ways, God always restrains sin from its full expression. Whatever wickedness you have seen (both in your own heart, and in the world around you), is just the tip of the iceberg. Don’t underestimate it. And this Psalm helps us not to underestimate it. They sacrificed their own children to demons! Sin is infinitely offensive to God, and it will keep dragging you further and further into it’s bottomless pit.

So here they are, the ugliness of their hearts on full display. And God can’t stand it. He abhors them. He says “Get Out.” Right back into the hand of the nations to be ruled by those who hate them (v.41).

Verse 6 opened things up with “Both we and our fathers have sinned” and verse 43 bookends it with his summary:

“Many times he delivered them, but they were rebellious in their purposes and were brought low through their iniquity.”

Or as the NIV puts it, “they were bent on rebellion.”

This wasn’t occasional, nor was it circumstantial. Bent. It’s who they are and, if we’re honest, it’s who we are as well. This isn’t just Israel’s reality, or a uniquely wicked generation. It’s the condition of the human heart. From Adam to us, history rhymes in a dark pattern of sin and rebellion against God.

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom 3:23)

And it brings us back to our original tension: if blessing belongs to the righteous, how can the psalmist (and how can we) who identify with Israel’s wickedness, appeal to God’s blessing?

Well, Psalm 106 doesn’t fully resolve that tension. In a way, it is a true cliff-hanger. The main melody of Psalm 106 is Israel’s dark pattern of rebellion and the psalm ends with Israel in exile. But even so, there is a powerful countermelody of God’s mercy throughout this psalm, most clearly in verse 44 right after their rock bottom moment.

3. God’s Countermelody of Mercy

“Nevertheless, he looked upon their distress, when he heard their cry. 45 For their sake he remembered his covenant, and relented according to the abundance of his steadfast love. 46 He caused them to be pitied by all those who held them captive.”

Unlike Israel, who forgets God’s covenant at every turn, God never forgets his covenant. The great miracle of Psalm 106 is God’s unwavering commitment to his people despite their sin. Time after time he preserves Israel when they deserve to be swept away in his righteous judgment. In every example we’ve walked through, anything short of Israel’s utter destruction is an example of God’s countermelody of mercy — his covenant love inserting itself between Israel’s guilt and the judgement they deserve.

But how? On what basis does “nevertheless” get to happen? God is no less just here than he was when he wiped out Korah’s rebellion. So what holds the flood back?

Our psalm has already alluded to it twice, both times incomplete. Moses stood in the breach — interceding through pleading, but absorbing nothing himself. Phinehas interceded through judgment — dealing with sin decisively, but only for one sin, not to mention that they were destroyed in the process. These examples highlight two halves of the same tension. What we need is someone to do both. Someone who will stand in the breach in our place, and satisfy God’s justice on our behalf.

The tension of Psalm 106 and it’s hints of intercession both point forward in time to Christ’s intercession on the cross once and for all. Romans 3:23-26 reminds us plainly: 

“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. 26 It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.”

Jesus is God’s answer to the tension. The Son of God became a man, lived the righteous life we couldn’t, and stepped into the breach for us receiving the full judgement for our sins on the cross. He accomplished what Moses and Phinehas pointed to. He satisfied the judgment that our sin demanded, and displayed God’s covenant mercy for all who trust in him. He takes the judgement for our sins, and we inherit the blessings of his righteousness. Intercession, completed.

This is what makes the psalmist’s plea in verse 47 possible.

“Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from among the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise.”

He trusted that God in his mercy and justice would make a way to gather his people for worship and thanksgiving despite their track record. And it’s why he can appeal to God’s blessing despite his own sinfulness. Every “nevertheless” in Israel’s history was borrowed against the cross. Every time God held back the flood, he was holding it back until it could finally, fully fall on his Son, in our place. That was true for Israel, and it’s true for us. These are our people, and this is our God!

And that brings us to the table.

The Table

The table reminds us of where God’s mercy and justice meet. No longer in tension, not in some uneasy compromise, but both fully satisfied at the cross.

That’s what this bread and this cup remind us of. His body, broken for us. His blood poured out for us. Christ took our sins upon himself, and we receive the blessings of His righteousness. We don’t come to this table because our track record is any better than Israel’s, we come because Christ stood where we should have stood, and declared “It is Finished.”

As we celebrate the Lord’s table together, this meal is a meal for the members of Cities Church, but if you have trusted in Jesus we invite you to eat with us.

If you have not trusted in Jesus, we ask that you let the bread and the cup pass, but let this psalm be your invitation. As Tim Keller notes, you are more sinful than you know, and more loved than you imagine. Trust in Jesus today.

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Spiritual Amnesia: Remembering God’s Faithfulness That Fuels Praise