Psalm 80
Notes
Transcript
Introduction
Howdy, folks, and welcome to week 11 of 12 of our summer lament series! In case you haven’t been with us, feel free to grab one of the handouts in the foyer so you can see where we’ve been in Scripture.
We started off by asking what lament is and why it’s necessary in a fallen world still awaiting redemption, then we asked what lament has to do with Jesus — seeing especially how his suffering and our suffering are related to each other.
After that, we started getting a little practical, asking what it looks like for us to lament individually — to offer up these prayers in pain that lead to trust to a God who hears the cries of his people and invites them to come before his throne just as they are, making no pretense about having things together or even relying on their own righteousness to ask, or, as Dr. Borger pointed out last week, even command God to turn his ear and show favor.
Last week, we saw an example of an intercessor offering up a lament on behalf of his people in Moses’s prayer, and this week, we see an example of a prayer that people might utter together — in other words, not individual laments, but corporate laments, in which the pain leading to the prayer is some shared community experience.
Now, if you’ve been here, you are pretty well aware of the shared experiences that led us to do this lament series in the first place, and perhaps you may have been asking some of the same questions we’re going to see raised in Psalm 80.
But before we get to those questions, let’s go ahead and read today’s text.
To the choirmaster: according to Lilies. A Testimony. Of Asaph, a Psalm. 1 Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock. You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth. 2 Before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh, stir up your might and come to save us! 3 Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved! 4 O Lord God of hosts, how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers? 5 You have fed them with the bread of tears and given them tears to drink in full measure. 6 You make us an object of contention for our neighbors, and our enemies laugh among themselves. 7 Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved! 8 You brought a vine out of Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it. 9 You cleared the ground for it; it took deep root and filled the land. 10 The mountains were covered with its shade, the mighty cedars with its branches. 11 It sent out its branches to the sea and its shoots to the River. 12 Why then have you broken down its walls, so that all who pass along the way pluck its fruit? 13 The boar from the forest ravages it, and all that move in the field feed on it. 14 Turn again, O God of hosts! Look down from heaven, and see; have regard for this vine, 15 the stock that your right hand planted, and for the son whom you made strong for yourself. 16 They have burned it with fire; they have cut it down; may they perish at the rebuke of your face! 17 But let your hand be on the man of your right hand, the son of man whom you have made strong for yourself! 18 Then we shall not turn back from you; give us life, and we will call upon your name! 19 Restore us, O Lord God of hosts! Let your face shine, that we may be saved!
Let’s pray.
Today’s text divides into three sections, based on the refrain that you heard repeated — restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved!
So we have verses 1-3, verses 4-7, and verses 8-19, but today we’re going to do something a little different, in that we’re going to look at all three sections and save the practical stuff for the very end.
Now, if you’ve ever heard preaching on the Psalms here at GBC, you know we’re also going to look at the title first.
Specifically, we’re going to look at the author — Asaph. All of the other terms are important, too, but we don’t quite have time to dive deep into every single detail.
Perhaps you noticed in our reading of Psalm 79 that it is also of Asaph. Hopefully that’s piqued your interest a little bit — Psalms 79 and 80 seem to be talking to each other in how they’ve been arranged together. But look at Psalm 78. And Psalm 77… In fact, you can go all the way back to Psalm 73, the start of Book 3 of the Psalter, and they’re all of Asaph, as are Psalms 81-83, before we get into the psalms of the sons of Korah and the one prayer of David that comes after the words of David are ended at the end of Psalm 72.
I say all of this simply to illustrate that our book of Psalms, as we’ve seen over and over again this summer, is far more than a bunch of individual Psalms written at various times by various people slapped together haphazardly. It’s less like a Pandora or radio station and more like a well-curated Spotify playlist, or, for the more experienced among us, an actual physical CD, tape, or vinyl record that, when you listen to it enough times, you can already start hearing the next song before it even starts and it feels very wrong when some other song starts instead.
The Psalms have been carefully collected, organized, and arranged in such a way that the best way to read them is in the order in which they’re presented, and the arrangers of the Psalter have left us plenty of clues to key in on their intentions in ordering them as they are.
But, who exactly is Asaph? We actually have a fair bit of information, starting once David has been firmly established as king in Jerusalem and he’s setting the temple worship in order.
1 Chronicles 16:5-7
5 Asaph was the chief, and second to him were Zechariah, Jeiel, Shemiramoth, Jehiel, Mattithiah, Eliab, Benaiah, Obed-edom, and Jeiel, who were to play harps and lyres; Asaph was to sound the cymbals, 6 and Benaiah and Jahaziel the priests were to blow trumpets regularly before the ark of the covenant of God. 7 Then on that day David first appointed that thanksgiving be sung to the Lord by Asaph and his brothers.
He also seems to be related to Heman and Ethan the Ezrahites, and is indeed a son of Korah — so that the entirety of book 3 of the Psalms, from 73-89, is from someone offering musical, priestly, or prophetic service in the tabernacle — and later the temple — of the LORD, except perhaps Psalm 86, which is attributed to David in some way. Just some food for thought on that one.
But that’s enough about Asaph and the structure of the Psalms for now. Let’s dive into Psalm 80.
vv. 1-3
1 Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock. You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth. 2 Before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh, stir up your might and come to save us! 3 Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved!
In these three verses, we see the start of Asaph’s request — that God would act according to his promises and his character.
It’s noteworthy that he calls God here the Shepherd of Israel, a very central way of describing God throughout all the Old Testament but especially regarding the Exodus from Egypt. In fact, Asaph has previously used this imagery just two Psalms ago, in Psalm 78:51-53
51 He struck down every firstborn in Egypt, the firstfruits of their strength in the tents of Ham. 52 Then he led out his people like sheep and guided them in the wilderness like a flock. 53 He led them in safety, so that they were not afraid, but the sea overwhelmed their enemies.
and at the end of the previous Psalm, Psalm 79:13
13 But we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever; from generation to generation we will recount your praise.
Second, we see that in addition to being the Shepherd of Israel, God is enthroned upon the cherubim — again, drawing on imagery from Israel’s early history right after the Exodus, where the LORD commanded Moses to place images of two of these creatures who stood guard outside the garden of Eden on the outside of the ark of the covenant.
This imagery of God highlights both God’s history with the nation of Israel as well as his character and abilities — he has saved Israel in the past in a miraculous, history-altering way, and has taken Israel as his own people, but, unlike the gods of the other nations around Israel, he is also the ultimate sovereign, who does what he pleases with the nations on his earth.
And look now at what Asaph requests of this God: that he would shine forth, in verse 1, and that his face would shine, in verse 3.
If this language sounds familiar, it’s because this is coming from one of the central texts in the Pentateuch, as well, the Aaronic blessing, recorded in Numbers 6:24-26, after Aaron is anointed as high priest.
24 The Lord bless you and keep you; 25 the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; 26 the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.
According to Asaph, though, this blessing has been revoked, because Israel now needs another Exodus-like rescue and for the Lord’s presence to return into their midst.
Let’s keep going til we get to the next refrain, looking at verses 4-7.
4 O Lord God of hosts, how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers? 5 You have fed them with the bread of tears and given them tears to drink in full measure. 6 You make us an object of contention for our neighbors, and our enemies laugh among themselves. 7 Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved!
Here, the Shepherd of Israel is now called the LORD God of Hosts, a title that emphasizes his power, especially his military power, as the commander of the armies of heaven, including the cherubim and all other sorts of incredibly powerful supernatural warriors.
Taking these titles all together, it’s pretty clear that Asaph knows exactly who it is he’s praying to — which makes his problem all the worse, as he describes in the second half of verse 4 through verse 7.
Just as with most of the other laments we’ve seen this summer, the problem isn’t so much the situation in and of itself, but what the situation seems to be saying about God, and especially about God’s attitude towards the one lamenting.
We’ll come back to “How long will you be angry with your people’s prayers?” later, but in verses 5-6 it’s obvious that whatever’s going on in the background, God is behind it all — which gives reason for despair as well as for hope. After all, if God is the problem, what possible solution could there be? If God is angry with the people’s prayers, won’t praying to him and complaining to him make things even worse? That’s a cause for despair if I’ve ever heard one.
But there is reason for hope — once again, we see our refrain in verse 7: “Restore us, O God of hosts, let your face shine, that we may be saved!” if the LORD’s attitude changes from anger to favor, the people will be saved, and even if the LORD was in fact angry with this prayer of his people, he nonetheless has preserved it for us to hear his voice in it to this day.
To recap, so far we have seen that Asaph understands that God is completely sovereign, and he calls on God to act according to that sovereignty. He also understands that the God of Israel has a special relationship with his chosen people whom he has continually saved with his powerful right hand, protecting them and guiding them as a shepherd cares for his sheep to bring them to safe pastures and provide them peace from those who would seek to devour them.
But now the shepherd has apparently turned against his flock in his great wrath, disgusted by their presence and angry that they would cry out to him.
Let’s keep going through the rest of the text, looking at verses 8-19.
8 You brought a vine out of Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it. 9 You cleared the ground for it; it took deep root and filled the land. 10 The mountains were covered with its shade, the mighty cedars with its branches. 11 It sent out its branches to the sea and its shoots to the River. 12 Why then have you broken down its walls, so that all who pass along the way pluck its fruit? 13 The boar from the forest ravages it, and all that move in the field feed on it. 14 Turn again, O God of hosts! Look down from heaven, and see; have regard for this vine, 15 the stock that your right hand planted, and for the son whom you made strong for yourself. 16 They have burned it with fire; they have cut it down; may they perish at the rebuke of your face! 17 But let your hand be on the man of your right hand, the son of man whom you have made strong for yourself! 18 Then we shall not turn back from you; give us life, and we will call upon your name! 19 Restore us, O Lord God of hosts! Let your face shine, that we may be saved!
In verses 8-13, Asaph artistically recounts the history of Israel from the Exodus up to the time of King Solomon, and then into the current situation, which is most likely the exile of the Northern Kingdom after Assyria sacked its capital city of Samaria around 720 BC.
But it’s not just the history that’s important. The imagery is powerful.
Here, Israel is depicted not as a flock of sheep, but as a vine — a little sapling, for which God moved heaven and earth to see it grow into a mighty tree. It’s a beautiful description of God destroying the mighty nations around Israel and removing them from the land so that the nation could take their possession and flourish to encompass all of the land that he had promised them they would.
They were a nation at rest, with Abraham’s descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore. Every man sitting under his own vine and fig tree. The expert vinedresser had grown a proven winner — which makes the question in verse 12 all the more poignant.
If God went through all the trouble over the course of about 8 centuries to take a group of 70 people and transform them into a kingdom of millions, why on earth would he undo that comprehensively — to the point that not only do the wild boars destroy the vine, but there’s nothing left over because after they’ve had their fill, even the little critters that move in the field finish it off until there’s nothing left?
And in verses 14-16, Asaph concludes by appealing once more to God’s character and promises. There’s nothing particularly special about the vine itself, other than that God himself planted it.
Even more pointedly, in verse 15, Asaph shifts imagery and appeals to God’s fatherly care for Israel, the son whom he had made strong for himself — again, nothing special about this son, other than the fact that God chose him and raise him up himself.
If this vine, if this son, this nation, is destroyed, in other words, how would that bring God any glory? Wouldn’t it only prove he’s just like the other gods of the nations, capricious, eager to display his wrath, and only mighty to save until some bigger, more powerful god swoops in and puts him to shame?
It’s a compelling argument.
Finally, in verse 17, Asaph offers up a rescue plan, centered on God’s faithfulness to his chosen king — if God will give the man of his right hand success, Israel will be saved.
And in verse 18, we fully see why all of this calamity has come upon Israel. Because the nation has followed in the footsteps of their evil kings, they have turned away from God.
But, Asaph argues, if God will save his people through his king and restore his people to life from death, they will never again turn from the covenant with their God and they will again worship him and him alone.
The Psalm concludes yet again with the refrain, “Restore us! Let your face shine, that we may be saved!”
Interpretation
Now, having looked at the details of this Psalm, we’re ready to start talking about what this Psalm has to teach us today, which involves doing a little biblical theology.
Let’s return to that first question, back in verse 4.
“How long will you be angry with your people’s prayers?”
Before we make this Psalm our own, we have to remember a couple of things. First, this Psalm was written in a time in which the kings of Israel were being punished for their evil. The nation had already been split into two separate kingdoms almost immediately after King David left the scene. The worship of Yahweh had been polluted with other false gods, and the hearts of the children of Abraham were not wholly devoted to the LORD their God.
Their prayers for rescue were probably not so much in hopes that they would be able to serve their God in peace and safety, as the beacon of light to the world God intended them to be, but for a sort of peace and safety that did away with their need of God — in other words, a return to the good old days when they could each do what they pleased since God had given them the promised land and it was time to rest and enjoy its goodness. They wanted the benefits of God’s protection without God himself, an arrangement which God does not take lightly and which he warned would bring his wrath before Israel ever stepped foot into the promised land, back at the end of Deuteronomy.
For Israel, God would be angry with their prayers as long as their prayers were nothing more than treating God as a cosmic grocery store that they visited only when they needed something, paid exactly what they owed, and left to go to their own homes.
Now, let’s look at the next question in the Psalm, in verse 12. “Why, then, have you broken down its walls, so that all who pass along the way pluck its fruit?”
At the time of its writing, this question had a pretty clear answer. Even though God had planted this vine and tenderly cared for it so that it grew into a towering, deeply rooted shade tree, this vine was bearing poisonous fruit, not the fruit the vinedresser wanted — again, a situation that God had warned against for centuries, lest the people chase after the gods of the nations around them and forget the God who brought them out of Egypt.
Conclusion
And, honestly, when we started this lament series, these are two questions that I struggled with a lot.
As I’ve thought about our life together here at GBC in recent years, I’ve often wondered, “Is God angry with us?” and, “Why is God doing whatever it is He’s doing in our midst?”
And, while I think those questions are totally fair game, this Psalm does set up some guardrails for the possible answers, specifically because he has already emphatically answered Asaph’s prayer in verses 17-18 in sending his Messiah, Jesus, into the world to perform the greatest Exodus rescue imaginable, rescuing all his people from slavery to sin and death.
The New Testament proclaims Jesus as the true Davidic king who establishes a new covenant in his blood. He is the true Israel, in whom all God’s promises find their yes and amen. He is the true vine, of which his people are the branches, who draw their life from being united to him and who bear fruit that is a product of his life in them, not their own fruit.
And Jesus did this by taking on all of God’s wrath — he became the object of contention of the nations, whose enemies laughed and mocked him as he was crucified, who was fed to the fullest with the bread of tears as his Father and God turned his face away and had no regard for him as he died under the curse of sin.
We must understand that the suffering the nation of Israel underwent was intended by God to be a shadow of the suffering that Christ underwent, and we must also understand that in Christ’s new covenant, things are fundamentally different. Though we suffer in these days, it cannot be because God is punishing us for sin because Jesus has already drunk the cup of that wrath to its fullest and has made atonement for all of our sins past, present, and future, both individual and corporate.
So, is God angry with us and our prayers? If we are truly a church whose life is bound up in Christ, where Jesus dwells by his Spirit, I just don’t think that can be the case, and I desperately hope I’m right about that. I do not want to imagine a life in which God does not invite us to come before him with our prayers. Death would be far, far preferable, so that at least we would not keep incurring more and more of God’s anger.
Brothers and sisters, the very fact that God’s anger against us is among our deepest fears indicates to me that we are indeed a church characterized by the fear of God we’ve learned so much about this summer, that we are a people among whom Jesus dwells.
So, why so much suffering here? Why have the last four years been so difficult, with so many tearful goodbyes, so much difficult change? So much loss? What glory does God get from a church that isn’t filling the baptismal every week and planting new churches left and right, making healthy disciples that make disciples and making a real impact in our community and around the world?
In other words, why does it feel like God has broken down our walls, as Asaph asks in verse 12? Why does it feel like Psalm 80 is appropriate for us to make our own on a surface reading, without first seeing it in light of Christ?
Again, I lean on the fact that Jesus has taken on all of God’s wrath against sin, so that whatever God is doing here among us, assuming that we are hidden in Christ, is fundamentally different, even though we can very easily ask the same questions as Asaph.
Truly, we today are the fulfillment of Asaph’s hope in verse 18 — we are those who, being sealed by God’s Holy Spirit, can turn nowhere else and find joy and satisfaction and life.
Just as Jesus’s life was restored in his resurrection, proving the Father’s favor on his anointed king, we, too, have been restored as we have been united with him in his death and raised with him to walk in new lives — we do call on the name of the Lord weekly in our gatherings and daily in our own homes.
I believe emphatically that God’s face is shining upon us, that his intention is for our good and our blessing and will result in our ultimate salvation — that everything he has done in our church is exactly what we have all needed in order to become the people God intends for us to be, even though the pathway there has been extraordinarily dark and painful, and has led us to ask hard questions of ourselves.
After all, we must remember who our Shepherd is. I love Asaph’s description of David in Psalm 78:70-72:
70 He chose David his servant and took him from the sheepfolds; 71 from following the nursing ewes he brought him to shepherd Jacob his people, Israel his inheritance. 72 With upright heart he shepherded them and guided them with his skillful hand.
Does not Jesus, the true son of David and great Shepherd of the sheep, shepherd us with an upright heart? Has he not always guided us with a skillful hand into the greenest pastures, with the freshest waters, and has he not always guarded us from the enemies that would seek our destruction?
Has he not always protected us even from ourselves, when we would so easily settle for the pleasures of this world, for comfort and success and stability, even if it meant we could do it all on our own strength and have no further need of him?
Has one word of his ever proven to be false in any of our lives?
Friends, God is moving among us in a mysterious way. I don’t know what the future holds for us, either individually or corporately. But I do know this. Our Shepherd will never fail. He will see each of his sheep home safely and will not lose a single one of them, and he will get his glory in every one of our lives and in the life of this church in whatever way he sees fit, in whatever timing he sees fit. Our task is to cling tightly to him, to cry out to him for rescue and help, and to keep our eyes on him and him alone, abounding in the work he has set for us to do, knowing that in Him, it is not in vain, no matter how much fruit we may or may not seem to be bearing.
As we conclude, hear some words I’m eagerly looking forward to studying in the fall, when we join up again with Paul and Timothy:
11 The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; 12 if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; 13 if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.
Please pray with me.
