Psalm 91

I know for a fact everyone is not like me. But I know enough people are like me for what I’m saying to make sense to at least some of you.

I've always been a fearful person. When I was young that fear manifested itself as timidity. It wasn’t easy for me to make friends, and conversations with strangers were very difficult.

But for the most part—as long as I kept to myself or to those people I knew really well—it didn’t have much of an impact on my life.

Then when I became an adult, that ingrained fear went to a whole new level.

It started when I got married, because suddenly I had someone else in my life who was counting on me, and who mattered to me. The thought of anything happening to Loanne was terrifying.

Then we moved to France a year after we got married, and I was surrounded by people I didn’t know, who were speaking a language I didn’t understand, and all of the social fears I thought I had gotten over got much worse.

Then we had a baby, and I found a whole new set of reasons to be afraid, because babies are so insanely fragile.

And so on.

Often when we think of our fears, we think of big, life-changing problems: the loss of a job, or a sudden financial problem, or a serious illness. But in reality, it’s not just the big things that threaten us: there are millions of dangers surrounding us every day. We humans, as we saw last week, are fragile, short-lived beings, and threats come at us constantly, from all sides.

is, as Derek Kidner put it, a psalm for danger.

It is a psalm for times of stress, for times of suffering, or for times when we have to confront evil in some way or another. It is for times which require courage, and it is written to give us the courage we need.

And as a fearful person, I can testify personally that every time I am afraid, it is to that I run. This psalm has been the single most helpful text in the Bible in helping me fight my fears.

But it’s a challenge for us to read initially, because it doesn’t seem (at least at first glance) to fit our experience. So in order to really get out of this psalm what we’re meant to, we need to do a couple of things.

We need to look at what the psalm says (and it’s quite simple).

Then we need to take a step back and look at why what it says is difficult for us to accept.

And finally, we need to take a look at how the rest of the Bible informs this psalm, so that we can preach it to ourselves in all honesty when we are afraid.

The psalmist begins with a kind of summary phrase of everything which will follow (v. 1):

Summary phrase: “He”

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

2  I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

It starts a general statement, as the pronoun “he” in v. 1 suggests—whoever does this can expect this. So what are we to do, and what can we expect if we do it?

We are to dwell in the shelter of the Most High.

“I”

It’s important to see that right off the bat, he doesn’t talk about seeking shelter, but rather about dwelling in the shelter.

Loanne and I lived in central Florida before coming here. Every year, for a couple months, there is storm season; once a day, usually a little after noon, there is a massive storm. It’s bright and sunny, then in the space of about ten minutes the sky goes completely black, and it starts to rain. It rains enormously, with incredible lightning and thunder in very close proximity, for about a half hour, after which the skies clear as quickly as they filled with clouds, and the sun comes back out again.

So at least once a day (particularly if you have a job which requires you to be outside, like I did), you have to run to find shelter from the storm. You get indoors however you can, to wait the storm out, then when everything’s calm again, you continue on with your life.

This is not the kind of shelter he’s talking about.

Our shelter is not a shelter we come into when we need it, but a shelter in which we dwell. It is those who live in the shelter of the Most High who are constantly under his protection.

So after the psalmist makes this general statement, he appropriates it for himself, turning the “he” to “I”:

2  I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

So it’s no longer general. He says, “God is like this, and whoever dwells in his shelter is protected. So I will say, ‘You are my protection. I trust in you.’”

Next, the psalmist spells out for all of us just how all-encompassing God’s protection is for his people. He changes the “I” to “you”, and that “you” is singular throughout the psalm. He’s not talking generally, to a body of people. He’s speaking personally, to you.

V. 3:

my God, in whom I trust.”

“You” - singular

3  For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler

and from the deadly pestilence.

4  He will cover you with his pinions,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.

5  You will not fear the terror of the night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

6  nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,

nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

Look at the dangers he lists: they cover a wide range of possibilities.

There are dangers from outside, that you can see coming: the snare of the fowler, the arrow that flies by day, the destruction that wastes at noonday.

And there are dangers that creep up on you, that no one—no matter how strong—can protect themselves from: the deadly pestilence, the terror of the night, the pestilence that stalks in darkness.

No matter how big or small or subtle or obvious the threat is, the message is simple: God will protect you from it. And his protection is all-encompassing: it is both warm (like a mother bird covering its babies with her wing) and solid as a rock (a shield and buckler).

And this protection will remain, no matter what is happening all around you. V. 7:

7  A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

8  You will only look with your eyes

and see the recompense of the wicked.

9  Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—

the Most High, who is my refuge—

10  no evil shall be allowed to befall you,

no plague come near your tent.

We’ve all seen movies where a city is being destroyed, and the main character is running back and forth, dodging flying debris, and then he looks up and sees the wall of an entire building coming down, and he has no where to run, so he stands still and shuts his eyes…and without moving, pops right up through an open window when the wall falls down all around him.

That’s what’s happening here. Chaos all around, and none of it touches you, because you have made the Lord your dwelling place. You live in his protection, so nothing can come near you.

And part of the reason you are protected is because God sends help. V. 11:

11  For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways.

12  On their hands they will bear you up,

lest you strike your foot against a stone.

This is miraculous protection from on high, divine help come to your aid, guarding you to such an extent that you won’t even stub your toe.

And the miraculous protection extends to what you will do. V. 13:

13  You will tread on the lion and the adder;

the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

It’s similar to what we saw, concerning those threats great and small. I wouldn’t dare walk on a snake (“cobra” is a more appropriate translation than “adder”); I really wouldn’t dare trying to walk on a lion.

And yet, because you are under God’s protection, you can do just that, metaphorically speaking. In his hands, under his care, you can conquer threats great and small.

Finally, the pronoun changes once again—from “you” to back to “I.” But it’s not the same “I”—it’s not the author speaking here. At the end of the psalm, the one speaking in the first person is God himself, speaking of you.

“I” - God

14  “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;

I will protect him, because he knows my name.

15  When he calls to me, I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble;

I will rescue him and honor him.

16  With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

In other words, this is not an anonymous pledge from an anonymous psalmist. God himself pledges his protection to his people.

Anon, 2016. The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

Problem 1: Who Is This For?

This all sounds wonderful. But there are two problems inherent in the way we naturally read this.

The first problem is the question of for whom this psalm applies. Who can say these things about themselves? Who can count on God’s divine protection?

The psalmist says tells us, multiple times.

V. 1: It is he who dwells in the shelter of the Most High.

V. 9: It is he who has made the Lord his dwelling place.

V. 14: It is he who holds fast to God in love.

And in the second half of the verse: it is he who knows God’s name.

How do we do this? How do we hold fast to him in love? How do we make the Lord our dwelling place? How do we know God’s name?

We do all of this by setting our affections on him, and trusting him to be all he promised to be for his people. The Old Testament saints already did this, through the intermediary of the priests and the sacrifices, through the Law God gave to Moses.

And in Jesus Christ, God gives us an even better way of doing the same thing.

God the Son became a man; he lived the perfect life we were meant to live. In fact, Jesus perfectly did what this psalm calls God’s people to do. Jesus dwelt in his Father’s presence. Jesus held fast to his Father in perfect love. Jesus knew his Father perfectly.

The New Testament picks up this same kind of language on multiple occasions.

At the cross, when he took our sins on himself and suffered judgment for those sins, he served as our intermediary; he removed the sin that separated us from the Father.

Jesus spoke of trusting in him by using the metaphor of

And at his resurrection, he applied his perfect life to us, so that whatever is true of him is true of all those who trust in him.

Jesus spoke of trusting in him, placing our faith in him, using the surprising metaphor of eating his flesh and drinking his blood. He’s not speaking literally, obviously; he says it this way to express the depth at which we participate in his life, death and resurrection through faith in him—that is, totally. What is true for him becomes true for us.

And what happens when we trust in him? What happens when we—metaphorically speaking—eat his flesh and drink his blood?

:

13 [God the Father] has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

In other words, when we trust in Jesus Christ for our salvation, when we bank all of our hopes on him and place all of our faith in him for everything we need for eternal life, we become, along with him, the man of .

When we trust Christ for our salvation, we dwell in the shelter of the Most High.

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. 16 For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. 17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

When we trust Christ for our salvation, we make the Lord our dwelling place.

When we hold fast to Christ in love, we hold fast to the Father in love.

We are saved in his name.

JESUS: “Abide in me.”

: God = Jesus.

This psalm is true of anyone who places their faith in Christ.

But even if we see to whom this psalm applies, we still have another problem.

And at looks as if, at least on a surface level, they may be right. The psalmist does seem to say that.

Problem 2: Is This Really True?

Many so-called Christians will affirm this psalm loud and strong, saying, “If you are a Christian, then nothing bad will happen to you. You see? He promises to carry you on angels’ wings. He promises to keep you from getting sick. He promises to give you a long life. He says that nothing will harm you.”

Now, we speak against this kind of theology all the time, and we’re right to do so.

But we have to admit that at least on a surface level, it kind of sounds like they’re right. The psalmist does seem to say all those things. The protection he promises here sounds pretty absolute, doesn’t it?

The problem is that this doesn’t exactly gel with our experience, does it? Think of the Christians who were sent into the Coliseum in Rome to be eaten by lions for the entertainment of the crowds. Think about those Christians today who are persecuted for their faith.

Many of you know that one sister in our church came here because she fled from persecution in China. She doesn’t know how her family is doing. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stay here, or if she’ll have to go back.

How can she read this psalm? How can she possibly believe in the protection promised here—protection from enemies—when she’s already lost everything, already had to flee for her life?

Most of us have never experienced that kind of persecution or suffering today, but we suffer in other ways. We may suffer ridicule for our faith, or rejection by our family.

And even outside of suffering for our faith, we all suffer in completely ordinary ways that impact every human being. We get sick. We lose our loved ones. We have relational heartache.

How can this psalm be true? Particularly when it is filled with promises which seem so absolute? Look at v. 9-10 again:

9  Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—

the Most High, who is my refuge—

10  no evil shall be allowed to befall you,

no plague come near your tent.

Anon, 2016. The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

NO EVIL? Really? Because it seems like we are constantly bombarded by evil in our world; even if I haven’t suffered like many others, this evil touches us all in one way or another.

So how can this psalm possibly be true?

Like every text in the Bible, this one can be very dangerous if taken out of the context of the rest of the Bible. The word for “evil” here is a little vague in the original Hebrew. It encapsulates wickedness, depravity, disaster, and all things in between. So it can be sort of difficult to know exactly what he’s talking about here.

But we understand better when we look at other places the word is used.

For example, often we use the word “evil” to talk about simple meanness (more in French here…)

Look, for example, at the story of Joseph.

Joseph’s brothers are filled with jealousy toward him, because of the love their father has for him. So they throw him in a well, sell him into slavery, and tell their father he is dead. Joseph is carried off as a slave into Egypt, sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and spends several years simply wasting there.

But all of that put him in the right place at the right time, to get out of prison, to rise in power in Egypt and to be warned of a coming famine. From his position of power, he prepares the country and its surrounding countries for the famine, and saves millions of lives in the process.

So when Joseph and his brothers are finally reunited, he can give a clear and appropriate analysis of what happened.

He tells them ():

: As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

As for you, you meant evil against me…

Stop there for a moment. He’s using the same word here for “evil” as the psalmist uses in .

What’s the evil? It’s pretty clear when you read the story: it’s the destruction of his life, the stripping away of everything that made his life worth living. That’s what “evil” is here. (And that’s clearly the context in as well, which lists a whole series of life-threatening situations.)

Well, he puts it together with its opposite, which helps clarify things.

But that’s not all there is to say. Joseph goes on (v. 20 again):

V. 20 again:

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good...

And what is that “good”?

…to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

The “good” God brought about instead of evil is the life of his people. In other words, his brothers threatened his life, but God used their sin to save the life of not only Joseph himself, but of his entire people.

So let’s think about how we use these words today.

When we think of evil today (though it’s clearer in French than in English, through the word “mal”), we think of anything which threatens our comfort or our well-being. That’s why when we hit our head, we say, “Ça fait mal.” (“That hurt.”)

The way this word is used in this psalm goes much further.

Evil here is not that which threatens our comfort, but our life, our salvation. Remember the last promise of God in the psalm (v. 16):

16  With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

He says that if we belong to God, even if we die, our real life will not end; our salvation is assured. Our ultimate good is protected.

And nothing can stand in the way of this promise.

That’s how the psalmist can say (v. 9-10),

For example, often we use the word “evil” to talk about simple meanness (more in French here…)

9  Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—

the Most High, who is my refuge—

10  no evil shall be allowed to befall you,

no plague come near your tent.

Whatever happens, if you have made the Lord your dwelling place, nothing can happen to you which God will not use for your ultimate good.

This is what Paul meant when he said (in ) that

…for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

We use that verse so flippantly and so easily, but this verse is a promise for heavy times. This promise doesn’t protect us from pain; it protects us from evil. The “all things” which “work together for our good” include the worst things we can imagine.

Which is why the promise is so wonderful—the worst thing you can possibly imagine is no obstacle to God’s protection.

In sickness, even if you suffer, no evil shall be allowed to befall you.

In grief, even if you feel crushed by your pain, no evil shall be allowed to befall you.

In your relationships, even if they hate you and betray you, no evil shall be allowed to befall you.

In persecution, even if they beat you and kill you, no evil shall be allowed to befall you.

Whatever happens to the Christian, not only God can turn it to your good; he will turn it to your good.

Believing

Jesus believed that too, incidentally, and that is why he did what he did for us. In we read that

Jesus believed that too, incidentally, and that is why he did what he did for us. In we read that

Dans la maladie, même si tu souffres, aucun mal ne t’arrivera.

[Jesus], for the joy that was set before him endured the cross...

Dans le deuil, même si tu es écrasé par la tristesse, aucun mal ne t’arrivera.

for the joy that was set before him endured the cross

Dans tes relations, même si on te déteste et te trahit, aucun mal ne t’arrivera.

If Jesus had been thinking about his immediate well-being and his comfort, of course he never would have gone to the cross. But he knew that if he endured that pain, there would be infinite joy waiting for him on the other side—the joy of living for all eternity with the brothers and sisters whom he redeemed by his blood. And the author of the letter to the Hebrews encourages us to do the same in the following verse ():

Dans la persécution, même si on te bat et te tue, aucun mal ne t’arrivera.

Now I know how easy it sounds to say this. People

Anon, 2016. The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.

Quoi qu’il arrive au chrétien, aucun mal ne lui arrivera. Rien ne peut l’arracher d’entre les mains de son Dieu.

We so often expect to get what we want right away—how frustrating is it to go on Apple Music and try to download a song and see that little wheel just inching its way along?

The Bible promises immediate benefits to being reconciled to God; but its greatest promises come when we accept to follow Christ in his suffering. We have the promise that even if we don’t understand why or how, that suffering which we are going through will produce good for us. Like Jesus Christ, we are encouraged to endure our suffering well, for the joy that is set before us.

Aujourd’hui nous voulons toujours immédiatement recevoir ce que nous voulons—nous voulons notre musique maintenant, nos films maintenant, la solution aux problèmes de notre vie maintenant. La Bible promet des bienfaits immédiats d’être réconciliés avec Dieu, mais elle promet encore plus des récompenses beaucoup plus grandes qui vont venir plus tard, en passant par beaucoup de souffrances. Nous avons la promesse de la Bible que même si nous ne comprenons pas pourquoi ou comment, cette souffrance par laquelle nous passons contribuera à notre bien, à notre vie et à notre joie plus tard. Comme Jésus-Christ, nous sommes encouragés à vivre bien nos souffrances, pour la joie qui nous est réservée.

Or to put it like Paul in :

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

This psalm teaches us trust and patience: Even if everything seems stacked against you, no evil will be allowed to befall you, in the truest sense of the word. It may hurt you temporarily, but later on you’ll see that in

Ce psaume nous apprend la confiance et la patience : Même s’il semble que tout soit contre toi, aucun mal ne t’arrivera, dans le vrai sens du terme—cette chose te fera peut-être du mal temporairement, mais plus tard tu verra que dans les mains de Dieu elle travaillait pour ton bien, pour ta joie—tout n’était que bonté entre ses mains. Alors tu pourras dire : “Aucun mal ne m’est arrivé.”

Now, can we be honest for a moment? These things are often hard to believe. They’re easy to throw around when things are going well; they’re not so easy when everything is going wrong.

Jésus-Christ est mort pour prendre la punition de ces péchés à notre place et nous donner toutes ses perfections. Le psaume nous dit les raisons pour lesquelles Dieu nous protège du mal—v. 1 : Puisque tu demeures sous son abri. V. 9 : Parce que tu as fait de Dieu ta retraite. V. 14 Puisque tu t’es attaché à lui, puisque tu connais son nom. C’est le sacrifice de Christ qui nous permet de faire justement tout cela—de nous attacher à Dieu, d’être réconciliés avec lui, de le connaître.

We love the sound of these things, but given our experience—that sometimes bad things do indeed happen to God’s people—it could make us hesitant to do anything with them. People who have suffered might have a hard time praying this psalm, because they could be saying things they only half-believe.

Si c’est vrai pour toi, et que tu es réconcilié avec Dieu par ta foi en Christ, la souffrance par laquelle tu passes ne portera pas atteinte à ta joie éternelle, à ta vie éternelle, à ton salut éternel—au contraire, elle contribuera à l’aboutissement de ces choses. Elle est douloureuse, peut-être, mais entre les mains de Dieu, elle n’est pas un mal (dans le vrai sens du terme), mais un bien.

I said before this psalm is a psalm for danger. It’s a psalm for when we are in the midst of danger, and for preparing for that danger. There are two different aspects of the theology of providence which we will approach differently, depending on which situation we’re in.

So let’s just talk for a moment, in all honesty, about how we can use this psalm. There are typically two contexts in which we can put this psalm to work in our lives—while we’re preparing for danger, and while we’re in it.

Quand nous disons “le mal”, on veut dire tout ce qui nuit à notre confort ou à notre bien-être : c’est pour ça que lorsque on se cogne la tête on dit : “Ça fait mal.” Ou quand ta copine rompt avec toi, tu dis : “Elle m’a fait mal.” La portée du mot dans ce psaume va bien plus loin. Le mal, ici, n’est pas ce qui porte atteinte à notre bien-être ou à notre confort, mais à notre salut, à notre vie éternelle. Remarquez bien la dernière promesse de Dieu dans le psaume : Je le comblerai de longs jours et je lui ferai voir mon salut (v. 16). Si nous appartenons à Dieu, même si nous mourrons ici, notre vraie vie n’aura jamais de fin, notre salut est assuré—et rien ne peut porter atteinte à cette promesse. C’est dans ce sens-là que le psalmiste dit : Tu fais du Très-Haut ta retraite ? Aucun mal ne t’arrivera, aucun fléau n’approchera de ta tente. Quoi qu’il t’arrive, si tu es enfant de Dieu, rien ne peut nuire à ce qui compte vraiment—ta vie et ton bonheur éternels avec Dieu.

Une dernière question.

Preparing for Danger

We all have times when everything’s going pretty much okay. There are no major dramas going on, no major threats to our well-being.

In those times, we tend to approach texts like a little too lightly, because it just seems so remote.

But it is that remoteness which gives us an opportunity to learn something we’d have a hard time hearing otherwise: the truth that God is sovereign, even over the most awful situations, and turns it to the good of his children.

When you’re suffering, you don’t want to hear that. You may know it, but I’m sorry, when your kid is sick, you don’t want to even consider the possibility that this is happening for your good or his; you just want him to get better.

So we need to strike while the iron is hot. While we are in relative comfort, we have to train our hearts as diligently and as fiercely as possible to know and believe that no threat from tomorrow ever comes to us outside of our Father’s good will for us.

And if we ever needed a kind of object lesson to help us see it, we need look no further than Jesus. The murder of the Son of God is the most heinous crime imaginable…and yet, God not only turned it into good, but actually planned it for the good of every one of his children, throughout all of human history.

God is a good God, who will not let his children suffer anything which will harm them in any ultimate way. In his hands, even our suffering is for our good, for our joy, and for his glory. And we need to learn it early.

Because sooner or later, we will suffer, and when we do, if we’re not already used to believing that, we will easily fall into despair.

That being said, how do we come to this psalm when we’re in the midst of suffering?

In Suffering

Look back at the way this psalm is written.

Does there seem to be any hesitation on the psalmist’s part? Does he ever interject a “maybe”?

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, will abide in the shadow of the Almighty…I think…?

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place… NOT A LOT of evil will be allowed to befall you...

He doesn’t talk like that. The psalmist has an absolute, rock-solid confidence that when God says, “When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him...”, he MEANS it.

And when we pray, we should pray with that same confidence.

Preparing: God is sovereign over even awful situation, and turns it to the good of the Christian. We have to train our hearts to know this and believe it.

In the midst: God does deliver, God does protect.

If we have prepared well, we will know how to pray when we’re in the midst of danger.

Mais il y a encore une question. Même si nous acceptons que Aucun mal ne t’arrivera, ça n’explique pas forcément les dangers réels auxquels le chrétien du psaume doit faire face, et dont Dieu promet de le protéger. Ces dangers, surtout si nous les prenons en tant que métaphores, sont très englobants—il y a des dangers physiques qu’on peut voir (comme les pièges et les flèches) des dangers physiques qui sont invisibles (tel la peste et le fléau), et des dangers émotionnels (la terreur de la nuit), et l’ultime danger, la mort. Il dit au verset 7 : Si 1000 tombent à côté de toi et 10'000 à ta droite, tu ne seras pas atteint.

This went on for months.

When I asked him what was happening, Rich sent me a video of one of Levi’s attacks; I started crying just watching it. It’s unimaginable, being a parent watching their child go through such a thing.

Alors notre question de base s’applique encore : Est-ce que le psalmiste est malhonnête en disant que Dieu protégera ses enfants de ces dangers alors que les chrétiens en subissent tous les jours ?

Finally, they were able to get into a specialized hospital in England, where they found that Levi was having problems with the muscles in his back, which compressed his spinal column. With the compression downwards, the spinal cord was pulling on the back of his brain, and actually pulling his brain into that knobby bone at the back of his skull, which was causing this intense pain.

La réponse est toujours non—pas si nous nous rappelons de la définition du “mal” dans ce contexte. Charles Spurgeon l’a expliqué ainsi : “Il est impossible qu’un mal puisse atteindre l’homme qui est aimé du Seigneur… Ce qui est du mal pour les autres n’est pas du mal pour lui, mais seulement du bien en forme mystérieuse. Les pertes l’enrichissent, la maladie est son médicament, le reproche est son honneur, la mort est pour lui un gain… Aucun mal ne peut lui arriver, car tout est surmonté par le bien.”

There is no real cure for what he has, beyond muscle relaxers and techniques to calm his body down when he is stressed. He still has frequent attacks, and they as a family are simply having to learn how to deal with them. They are tired, and they are stressed.

I had lunch with Rich last week. We prayed together, and we cried together. At a time like that, telling someone, “Don’t worry, even in this no evil will be allowed to befall you” is downright offensive. You don’t care about the theological implications of pain in that moment, you just want your kid to stop suffering.

Thankfully, Rich and his wife have been resting in these truths for a long while, so they can remind themselves of these promises. They can remind themselves that God protects his children, and that the things they are learning now—as painful as they are—will enable them to help others going through similar pain, further down the road. And miraculously, they can see the effects of these truths even in their son, who is now much quicker to turn to God in prayer for comfort when he is hurting.

The truth of is that God protects his children from anything which will threaten their eternal life and joy. This truth is preparatory; it is not a divine Band-Aid. If we try to use these truths as a kind of last-ditch effort to help others in suffering, we’re apt to get slugged.

Si nous subissions ces souffrances sans avoir Dieu comme notre abri, ce serait certainement un mal contre nous—plutôt que de nous faire venir à Dieu, ces choses nous donneraient encore plus de raisons pour ne pas suivre Dieu. Mais puisque nous nous sommes attachés à Dieu comme notre abri, ces maux seront transformés en bien pour nous, et c’est ce bien qui nous arrivera. Ces dangers peuvent peut-être nous menacer, mais le mal qu’ils veulent nous faire ne nous atteindra jamais. Comme Joseph, nous pourrons dire à celui qui nous les lance : Vous avez projeté me faire du mal, mais Dieu l’a transformé en bien.

Plutôt que nous faire fuir, ces souffrances nous pousseront encore plus près de Dieu, et nous verrons ainsi la joie qui nous est réservée encore plus clairement—et comme Jésus, pour cette joie qui est devant nous, nous tiendrons bon.

Une objection et une réponse

Mais cette promesse est parfois dure à avaler. Si on vient de perdre quelque chose ou quelqu’un qui est précieux—si on vient de perdre enfant, par exemple—on se fiche de sa joie éternelle. On est incapable de voir plus loin que la douleur du moment. Alors dire à quelqu’un qui vit ce genre de chose : “Ne t’inquiète pas, ce n’est pas un mal pour toi mais un bien” est non seulement ridicule et insensible, mais offensif. Paul dit même dans Romains 12.15 : Réjouissez-vous avec ceux qui se réjouissent, pleurez avec ceux qui pleurent. La meilleure consolation que nous pouvons apporter dans un moment comme cela, c’est parfois de ne rien dire, et de simplement pleurer avec eux.

La vérité que proclame le Psaume 91 est qu’aucun mal ne viendra à l’enfant de Dieu pour porter atteinte à sa vie et à sa joie éternelles, mais que Dieu changera ces maux en bien. Cette vérité est un enseignement préparatif. Jésus a bel et bien souffert ; dans le jardin il était tellement stressé et effrayé par ce qui venait qu’il transpirait du sang. Mais il connaissait la promesse du Psaume 91 ; même s’il se faisait torturé, cloué à la croix, Dieu lui disait toujours : Aucun mal ne t’arrivera. Il savait qu’une joie lui était réservée, et que cette joie serait infiniment plus grande que la douleur par laquelle il allait passer. Alors il a pu tenir.

De même, si nous cachons cette vérité dans notre cœur, si nous savons d’avance que tout ce qui nous arrive ne pourra pas porter atteinte à la joie et à la vie qui nous sont réservées, nous pourrons tenir, nous aussi. Le chrétien qui comprend l’évangile et qui croit aux promesses de la Bible pour lui comprendra cette promesse solide et absolue : puisqu’il a fait de Dieu sa retraite, aucun mal ne lui arrivera. La douleur, oui ; la souffrance, oui ; la difficulté, oui—mais aucun mal. Ce chrétien-là sera la personne la plus courageuse du monde, et non pas d’un courage aveugle. Il sera prêt à tout risquer pour l’avancement du royaume de Dieu. Il risquera sa maison, son confort, ses passe-temps, son égo, il risquera sa vie pour que le nom de Jésus soit connu—et il le fera avec joie, avec allégresse, puisqu’il n’a rien à craindre, puisqu’il a fixé ses yeux sur la joie qui lui est réservée. Quelle mission nous avons ! Nous allons à la bataille les mieux armés ; nous savons d’avance que nous sommes du côté gagnant de la guerre. Nous nous battons donc sans peur, sans crainte—c’est dans la tranquillité et la joie que nous donnent les promesses de Dieu que nous trouvons notre force.

Alors une exhortation finale : Réjouis-toi. Si tu n’as rien à craindre, tu es libre—libre de vivre la vie complète et comblée, la vie pour laquelle Dieu t’a créé, car ta vie est complète et comblée en Christ. Crois en sa Parole—ne crains rien ; aucun mal ne t’arrivera.

But if we hide these truths in our hearts, we will find that in times of suffering, God brings to mind protections we never would have seen otherwise. We will see the good he is able to bring out of it. We will see all the other things that could have gone wrong, from which he preserves us.

Complex reality—we have the promise that God will protect, and he does. But sometimes that protection comes in the form of suffering.

In other words, our idea of protection is profoundly limited. We imagine protection from harm to be a simple lack of suffering, or simple comfort, or simple happiness. But that kind of good may not be good for us.

We pray that God would protect us from danger, and often he will. But even if he doesn’t, he is still good, and protecting us from a greater danger we never saw.

Complex reality—we have the promise that God will protect, and he does. But sometimes that protection comes in the form of suffering. In other words,

God’s not interested in only keeping us comfortable. He wants what is ultimately good for us. He wants to protect us from what will do our souls harm. So while he protects us from a million unseen dangers every day, sometimes he chooses instead to walk with us through the danger, to get us to a greater good on the other side.

PRAY WITH CONFIDENCE THAT GOD PROTECTS.

PRAY WITH TRUST THAT EVEN IF HE DOESN’T, HE IS STILL GOOD.

Application:

We pray that God would protect us from danger, and often he will. But even if he doesn’t, he is still good, and protecting us from a greater danger we never saw.

PRAY WITH CONFIDENCE THAT GOD PROTECTS.

PRAY WITH TRUST THAT EVEN IF HE DOESN’T, HE IS STILL GOOD.