I Lift My Eyes Up

Psalm 121 NIV

A song of ascents. 1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? 2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. 3 He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; 4 indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The Lord watches over you— the Lord is your shade at your right hand; 6 the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; 8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

I spent part of 5 summers in Nuevo Leon, Mexico in a small village named Dr. Arroyo. And I loved every minute of it.

The people I met in and around that tiny Mexican village are among the best people I’ve ever met.

I thought for a while that I would move to Dr. Arroyo and serve the Lord there as a missionary. The Lord had other plans for me, but what He taught me during those years in Mexico has shaped me in ways I can’t begin to describe.

We worked with a native Mexican family there in Dr. Arroyo. Ranulfo and Silvia and their children—incredible people who love the Lord and desire that all people come to know Jesus as their Savior.

Just being around Ranulfo, Silvia, Abi, Ranulfito, and Miceael was encouraging and inspiring; they served the Lord with such joy even in the midst of their deep poverty.

As a well-to-do American, I learned one valuable lesson after the other from my Mexican brothers and sisters.

As we piled into Ranulfo’s van to head out to the different surrounding villages, Ranulfo and his family would recite the same thing every time.

With my limited knowledge of Spanish that first year, I was only able to pick out a word or two and then start to piece it together.

Montañas…mountains, they’re saying something about mountains.

Ojos…okay, that’s the word for eyes.

Ayuda…help, I nudged my friend saying, “They just said ‘help’.”

El Señor…they’re speaking to the Lord.

I took the words I could understand and started to put them together and then scan my mind for Bible verses that contained those words.

After a few times listening to them, I realized that they were repeating Psalm 121 each and every time they got into their van to travel anywhere.

They were rehearsing the truth—Mi ayuda proviene del Señor—“my help comes from the Lord.”

They found comfort in the fact that the Lordneither slumber nor sleeps, that He was watching out for them.

This Psalm has carried special significance for me since those long-ago summers in Mexico.

I’m not sure I can quote the whole Psalm from memory the way Ranulfo and Silvia do, but the message of the Psalm is here (in my head) and here (in my heart).

The subtitle of this Psalm says, A song of ascents.

This was one of the songs that the Jewish pilgrims would sing on their way to Jerusalem.

Psalms 120-134 are each songs of ascents.

Each year, as these travelers made their way to Jerusalem, you would hear the words of Psalms set to song; men, women, and children singing their way to Jerusalem.

I lift my eyes up, unto the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from You, Maker of heaven, Creator of the earth.

The Psalms were their roadtrip mixtape.

Psalm 121 is a very personal psalm.

I typically try to stay away from preaching sermons that focus on us as individuals.

We tend to be far too “me” oriented.

We are inclined toward self-centeredness.

This is the “selfie” generation—and this doesn’t apply just to kids; no matter one’s age, we are fairly quickly and often primarily concerned with self: my wants, my desires, my preferences; whether or not you take pictures of yourself with your phone.

So, I try to avoid preaching anything that promotes a more “me” mindset.

But, when the text I’m preaching is intentionally personal, I am constrained to preach an intensely personal sermon.

Brief grammar lesson: all of the pronouns (He, my, you, your) in Psalm 121 are singular.

The Psalmist is speaking these truths to you as an individual. Each time we read the words “you” or “your” in this Psalm, we’re meant to hear this individually.

“The Lord will not let your foot slip, Larry Balk. He who watches over you will not slumber.”

“The Lord watches over you, Tish Pilcher. The Lord is your shade at your right hand.”

“The Lord will keep you, John Hough, from all harm—He will watch over your life…”

Psalm 121 is a very personal psalm. It’s for me. And for you.

This psalm is personal and that means this is going to get very personal.

You and I should ask ourselves the question the psalmist asks in verse 1:

Where does my help come from?

What’s the answer to that question? Where does your help come from?

Is your answer like the answer found in verse 2: My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Okay, time for a theology quiz. Finish this sentence: “God helps those who…(help themselves).”

That’s one of the most dangerous lies ever told.

It’s not in the Bible. You’ll look and look and look, but you won’t find anything of the sort.

Because it’s a lie straight from hell.

God doesn’t wait to help us until we can help ourselves.

He’d be waiting forever if that was the case.

The Gospel is this: God helps those who could never possibly help themselves.

That’s you, friend. And that’s me.

The Lord, moved only by boundless grace and compassion and love, helps His people.

Our help comes from the Lord, and it comes to us freely and undeservedly.

I was reminded this week at CIY of this powerful and freeing truth: I can’t fix the problems I’m facing…but God can. My help comes [not from me, but rather] from the Lord.

The psalm begins by asking the ever-pressing question: where does my help come from?

And answers the question: my help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.

The next six verses are one long, elaborated answer; “an ever-expanding circle of promise.”[i]

There’s a word used six times in these six verses.

It’s the Hebrew word shawmar (Strong’s #8104).

It’s translated keep, preserve, watch over.

It perfectly describes the activity of the Lord.

This is the word used to describe what Adam’s job was in the Garden. The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.

When Cain asked, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” this same word the word is used.

The Lord takes care of us. The Lord is our keeper. The Lord preserves us.

The Lord is both, and at the same time, all-powerful and ever-watchful. One without the other makes for a lousy helper.

An all-powerful god who only watches over you part of the time is good for nothing.

An ever-watchful god who is only sort of powerful is of no comfort at all.

But the Lord, the God of the Bible, is both all-powerful and ever-watchful.

He watches over you, He keeps you, He preserves you.

Like a broken record, the psalmist is stuck on this one note:

He watches over you, He watches over you, He watches over you, He watches over you, He watches over you, He watches over you.

Listen as this psalm hits that note again and again.

Verses 3 and 4:

Psalm 121:3–4 NIV

3 He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; 4 indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

Elijah challenged the prophets of Baal to have their god set the altar on fire. The prophets of Baal called on their god all morning long. And nothing.

At noon, Elijah began to taunt them, saying, “Shout louder! Surely he is a god! Perhaps he is deep in thought, or busy, or traveling. Maybe he is sleeping and must be awakened.”

It’s such a great story.

And it teaches an important truth: there is only one God who never sleeps, never slumbers, never goes on vacation.

He watches over all His people—He who watches over Israel—and He watches over you, personally, intimately, knowingly.

He watches over you.

Verses 5-6:

Psalm 121:5–6 NIV

5 The Lord watches over you— the Lord is your shade at your right hand; 6 the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

There’s nothing I like quite as much as shade. I’m very, very fair-skinned, as you can see. And this is as tan as I’ll ever get.

What’s really sad, I’m the darkest person in my family. I can’t be out in the sun for very long without getting burned; I’m talking like 3 minutes.

I love to find shade on a sunny day. It seems a small thing: shade. What I would have given to find some shade yesterday at 5:00 p.m.

What harm can the sun really do?

And what harm has the moon ever done? Some people think that the moon, the lunar cycle caused mental disturbance (this is where we get the word lunatic).

It’s not that the sun and the moon are any great threat. It’s more poetic than anything.

By making reference to the sun and the moon, the poet is saying: “The sun and the moon, the day and the night, and everything in between—yeah, none of that is going to harm you if the Lord is your shade.”

He watches over you.

Verses 7-8:

Psalm 121:7–8 NIV

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; 8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could take this at face value, that we would never, ever face any kind of harm, ever? No cancer, no car accidents, no broken arms, no Covid-19.

The psalmist is not promising a life absent pain or failure. The psalmist is not promising a cushy life.

What he is promising is that even in the midst of trouble, God’s people will remain upheld.

God’s people will remain upheld, not because of their own doing, but because of the preserving hand of God.

There is nothing that can touch us, not in the eternal sense.

Nothing can separate us from His love, from His salvation; nothing, absolutely nothing.

Jesus said that no one can snatch God’s sheep out of His hand.

John 10:27–30 NIV

27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. 30 I and the Father are one.”

The One who has justified will never again condemn.

Romans 8:33–34 NIV

33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

The Lord will keep you, He will watch over your life, He will watch over your coming and going.

Your coming and going is a way of saying everything; He will watch over everything you do.

As you leave your home and go to school or work, and to this event and that meeting, to see these people, to shop at the store, to visit here and go there, to grab a bite to eat, and then return home to do it all over again; from one sunrise to the next all the days of your life, the Lord is there, keeping you, watching over you.

He watches over you.

In response to this psalm, I believe I’m meant to lift my eyes.

The psalmist beings by saying, “I lift my eyes up.”

I believe your proper response to this psalm is for you to lift your eyes up.

As they sojourned to Jerusalem, the travelers lift up their eyes to the hills of Zion, to Mount Moriah, where the Ark of the Covenant was, where the symbol of the Lord’s presence dwelled.

Jerusalem was “up” no matter what direction you were going, because it was elevated above the surrounding area.

Faithful Israelites would lift their eyes to the mountain where their help was, the mountain where the Lord was present with His people.

Church architecture used to function in a way that would encourage your eyes to be lifted up.

The reason for vaulted cathedral ceilings and steeples on the outside of church buildings was to lift your eyes up.

The original ceiling in this church was vaulted—and part of the intent was, no doubt, to catch your eye and lift them up.

Michelangelo painted the ceiling, not the floor, of the Sistine Chapel, so that your eyes would be lifted up.

I lift my eyes up to the mountains—where does my help come from?

This begs the questions:

Where is your attention focused more often than not?

In which direction is your gaze directed?

Where do you tend to look for help, for answers?

You look to yourself for help, don’t you?

You look inwardly—and that’s just plain terrifying.

Most of the time, you are the cause of whatever problem you face.

And if you think you are also the answer to the problems in your life, you are sorely confused and a teensy bit foolish.

How often do you look to another person for help, for answers, for a solution to your problems?

The problem with looking horizontally is that others are just as human and just as fallible (prone to mistakes) as you are.

Now, there’s a lot of help to be found within the Church—the people of God.

There’s counsel and encouragement and love and concern. But even help from the Church is an imperfect help.

Are you among those who expect your government, your politicians, your country to solve the issues the day?

“If he gets elected, if she gets into office; if only they did what they should be doing, if they’d raise this and lower this…”

If you’re looking toward your government, your politicians, or your country, you are looking in the wrong direction.

In every age, in every generation, humankind has looked toward false gods—whatever they might be: money, power, status, family.

I dare say you seek security or peace in one or more of those things.

These idols are thought to bring help and safety.

But just like Baal in the Old Testament, these idols will prove themselves to be false, powerless, unable to help.

Psalm 121 pleads with you to lift your gaze away from yourself, to move your gaze beyond the horizontal, and lift your eyes up.

I lift my eyes up…

I think this—lifting your eyes—is a pretty good idea.

I think how much better off I’d be if I lifted my eyes toward the One who made me, the One who made the heavens and the earth.

If I looked toward Him more and looked less and less at me and my own ability;

if I looked at my Savior half as much as I looked at possessions and my bank account;

if I looked at Him more, the things of this earth would likely grow strangely dim and less important.

When I’m in trouble, when I don’t know what to do; when I’m angry and upset; when I’m down or depressed; when I don’t know how to handle a situation, what if I chose to lift my eyes up?

In the New Testament, the author of Hebrews has another way of putting this: I lift my eyes up.

Hebrews 12 says this: Fix your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.

Lifting your eyes up and fixing your eyes on Jesus is the same thing, the same essential posture for the believer.

We lift our eyes up, we fix our eyes on Jesus because in Him is everything we need.

He is our help. He is the source and object of our faith.

We lift our eyes up to Him, fixing our gaze upon Him, for in Him is life and light.

We look to Him and we look for Him, because He is our redemption and our salvation.

The only way we can run this race called life is to fix our eyes on Him—the Maker of heaven and earth, our Savior and Lord.

This is something those Jerusalem-bound travelers knew.

This is something Ranulfo and Silvia know.

This is something, I pray, that we will learn and continue to learn more and more—

that we must continually, every day, at every turn, in good times and bad times, learn to fix our eyes on Him, to lift our eyes up.

Psalm 121:1–2 NIV

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? 2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.