I Will Remember the Lord

This morning, we’re going to be looking at Psalm 77, and I invite you to turn there with me. We’re not going to read it just yet. But it’ll be good to have it ready for when we do.

If you’ve already had the chance to talk to someone else in church this morning, you’ve probably already heard that they’re doing fine. That’s the typical response to “How are you going?” “I’m fine.” We’re all fine.

My wife was listening to a podcast yesterday, and that’s exactly what it was talking about.

The norm for a Sunday morning is that we’re all here giving one another hugs and smiles. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But we need to recognize every week that a lot of us aren’t fine.

The ebb and flow of life will include times of sadness and frustration. And a lot of us aren’t very comfortable dealing with that, either in our own life and in the lives of others.

This past week, my wife, along with some visitors we had over our house, told me that they could hear our baby crying in the kids’ playroom. And my wife said it was a cry different from what she had heard before.

So, someone went into the room and realized that she had sat down to watch a cartoon movie that was on. And because there was a somber moment, accompanied with somber music, my 2-year-old baby girl started to cry. She was emoting with the movie.

That may have been the first time she did that, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the last. I’m sure most of us here know what it’s like to watch a movie or listen to a song and have our emotions respond.

One of the downsides, I think, of being drawn into the emotions of a movie, though, is that, over time, it can slowly pull us out of the emotions of everyday life.

In real life, when someone tells me about something horrible that’s happened, usually it doesn’t start raining. And the lighting in the room doesn’t change. And there isn’t a background of somber music to help me emotional connect with what happened. Instead, it can feel a little detached.

That disconnectedness makes it much more difficult to obey the command the Romans 12 to “weep with those who weep.” And the more difficult it is to obey that command, the more isolated the person grieving will feel.

Those of you who have gone through a distinctly distressing time know how isolating it is. You understand the dynamics of suffering.

King Solomon wanted his children to understand that as well. In Proverbs 14:10, it says: “The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger shares its joy.”

In other words, most people have no idea what an individual is experiencing on the inside.

And speaking to the effects of sadness, Proverbs 12:25 tells us: “Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down.”

Proverbs 15:13 says, “By sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed.” 

And Proverbs 18:14 asks, “A man's spirit will endure sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear?”

I think it’s fair to say that the deeper a sorrow is, the more isolated and detached you will feel.

Sorrow is a part of this life. We don’t always like to talk about it, but that’s the way it is. This  life hurts. And one way or another, we all find it out.

Ever since the Fall of man and the curse upon this world, sin, sickness, death, and sadness have invaded our lives. You’re not going to get away from it.

Some of the biggest trends in Christianity around the world are what’s called the Prosperity Gospel, and the Therapeutic Gospel, and the “Word of Faith” movement. This is the idea that if you live your life in obedience to God, you will avoid the difficulties. Your health will improve. Your finances will improve. Your relationships will improve. Your emotional status will improve.

And then you have the additional lie that your words, like God’s, have the power to create and to destroy. So, if you make
positive confessions” about how good life is going to be, then you start to make it happen in your life. And if you make “negative confessions” you invite those kinds of negative things. So, the instruction is, “Don’t talk about the bad things in life.” It’s a call to live in a kind of denial.

You find that teaching with so-called Christian television and books. It’s everywhere. And it’s a lie from Satan. It’s an absolute lie. This life will bring pain.

Sometimes, we experience a type of anguish that is the result of our sin. And the remedy for that is confession. We studied that a couple weeks ago in Psalm 51, and then in Psalm 32 if you’re in a Family Life Group.

But not every type of suffering is a direct result of our personal sin. We can be hurt by the sin of somebody else. And we will be confronted by sickness and death. What do you do in those difficult and painful moments or seasons?

Prosperity theology will heap guilt on you, saying it’s the result of your lack of faith, and that you shouldn’t talk about it. You should deny it. But that’s not the biblical response.

The response that honors God is going to Him. It’s drawing near to Him in prayer.

I’ve said this a couple times already: the Psalms cover the range of human emotions. So, no matter what you’re going through, you can know how to go to God in an appropriate way. You don’t have to wait for some kind of feeling to go away before you pray. What you might need, though, is a guide to help you pray.

That’s exactly what we’re looking at today with what is called a psalm of lament, a psalm of sadness or mourning.

Of all the different kinds of Psalms that we have, the biggest group of them are the psalms of lament. One author said there are more than sixty out of the 150 psalms. These are songs of sadness, songs of fear, songs of loss, songs of desperation.

Sometimes, that’s due to persecution, attacks from an enemy. Other times it’s due to sickness. Sometimes, it’s a personal lament. Other times, it’s a communal lament.

But what a gift it is from God to have these kinds of psalms. We all need to grow in our ability to lament around each other and to lament before a holy and gracious God. And along with that, we should be equipped to help others who are grieving as well.

So would you look with me at Psalm 77. And I’ll read it for us. Psalm 77.

To the choirmaster: according to Jeduthun.
A Psalm of Asaph.
1 I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
2 In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
3 When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah
4 You hold my eyelids open;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
5 I consider the days of old,
the years long ago.
6 I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
let me meditate in my heart.”
Then my spirit made a diligent search:
7 “Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
8 Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
9 Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah
10 Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”
11 I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
12 I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
13 Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
14 You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
15 You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah
16 When the waters saw you, O God,
when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
indeed, the deep trembled.
17 The clouds poured out water;
the skies gave forth thunder;
your arrows flashed on every side.
18 The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
your lightnings lighted up the world;
the earth trembled and shook.
19 Your way was through the sea,
your path through the great waters;
yet your footprints were unseen.
20 You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Psalm 77 is psalm that shows us what it’s like to be physically and emotionally weighed down, and yet get to a point where you are spiritually strong. That’s Psalm 77.

At the very beginning of the psalm, above verse 1, you see a couple of names that aren’t very familiar to us. There’s Jeduthun and Asaph. Both of them were part of a musical family, and King David placed them in charge of the musicians and the choirs.

So, this was a song that the leaders of Israel were expected to include in the worship of the people. That’s important to know. Just because a song expresses sadness, doesn’t mean it’s unholy. And it doesn’t mean it’s unfit for corporate worship. This is a song of pain.

And yet, it’s also a song of confidence. Look again at verse 1 with me. This is a summary of the psalm’s message: I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me.

Twice, this opening verse refers to crying to God, which emphasizes the distress. And yet, at the same time, there’s a confidence that Lord will pay attention.

How do you get to that point? How do you move from distress to confidence? By God’s grace, that’s what this Psalm helps us see.

Starting in verse 2, it’s like the author backs up a little, and says, “Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you how I got here. Let me tell you how I made it through.”

The first half of the psalm, we could call “The Anguish.” And the second half is “The Answer.” The Anguish and the Answer.

This is not some super, spiritually strong brother who responded triumphantly in a time of crisis. This is a man who learned how to respond in the worst of times. And God wants us to learn from him. So, let’s look first at his anguish—his anguish.

Verse 2—In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.

What happened to this guy? What’s the trouble? We don’t really know. And that’s for the better right now, because it allows all of us to relate to him.

When the trouble came, he started with a prayer to God. He wants answers, but he doesn’t get one.

And so, all through the night, he’s praying again—deep, heartfelt prayers, arms stretched out, like a beggar. “God, give me something! Give me relief!” But it’s a grueling battle in his own soul. He wants comfort, but he can’t get it. He’s inconsolable, like a terribly sick child.

So, there are no answers, and there’s no comfort.

Verse 3—When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints.

He’s trying to wrap his thoughts around this in some way, but it’s only tiring him out. He is exhausted by it. So, there’s no answers, no comfort, and now, no strength.

You can see that at the end of verse 3, we get the word “Selah.” That’s from the Hebrew. It’s a word that’s used about 70 times in the psalms. It’s only used three other times, in the book of Habakkuk, but even there, it’s for a song.

We don’t know what exactly it means, but since it’s always used in connection to music, some have suggested that it was an instruction to the musicians for something. They might play louder, or play softer, or play a musical interlude. We don’t know.

But whatever it means, it seems like the point of the word is to draw emphasis. It’s a pause in the reading that helps you focus on what’s going on. Don’t read too fast here. Think about what’s happened. Let this sink in.

This is a man in a serious crisis with no answers, no comfort, and no strength. That’s his anguish.

Have you ever felt like that? Or, have you ever been around someone in that kind of situation? There really aren’t words that seem appropriate. Someone is about to lose their home. Someone gets served with divorce papers. Someone gets diagnosed with a terminal or lifelong illness. Someone is in serious physical danger. Someone hears that their child has died. Or that their husband or wife is gone.

Don’t cheapen those moments by minimizing what someone is feeling. It’s anguish. And it doesn’t go away overnight. In fact, it gets worse. What comes next are the sleepless nights.

Look at verse 4—You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

You can’t sleep, and you can’t even put your feelings into words. You don’t have the energy to even share how you feel. No sleep, and no words.

So what do you do? You start thinking about what life was like before all this. Verse 5—I consider the days of old, the years long ago. ⁶I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.” Then my spirit made a diligent search:

This is someone looking through the photo album of their mind—remembering the better times, the times when they would sing songs of joy, the times of happiness.

But that only adds to the sorrow, because you realize how much you’ve lost. And so, you’re stuck in the same situation, the same anguish. No answers. No comfort. No strength. No sleep. No words. No peace. No relief.

And at that point, the questions start coming—the questions about God’s goodness and God’s faithfulness. Let me read them to you from verses 7-9.

Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? ⁸Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? ⁹Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”
… Selah … …

Is this blasphemous talk? Is it presumption? Is it a lack of respect? Is it full-fledged doubt, taunting God’s love?

No. That’s not what this is. This is the genuine cry of an anguished heart. And God is pleased to hear it. You need to know that. God is pleased with these questions.

Why do I say that? Because it’s being said to Him! Which means, it’s drawing the suffering person closer to God.

There are Bible passages that talk about complaining. And generally speaking, complaining is a sin. But that’s when we’re complaining and grumbling to one another. Or to God in a self-righteous tone.

What is not forbidden in the Bible, however, and is actually encouraged and modeled for us, is humbly complaining to God Himself.

Habakkuk essentially whines to God in the opening verses of his book: “How long, O Lord?!”

And that same line is used multiple times in the Psalms as well. “How long, O Lord? How long?”

Psalm 6 says it. Psalm 13. Psalm 35. Psalm 74. Psalm 79. Psalm 80. Psalm 82. Psalm 89. Psalm 94. “How long, O Lord.”

And listen to what it says in Psalm 55, verse 2: Answer me. I am restless in my complaint and I moan.

Verse 17 of that psalm says: Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice.

Some of us might expect it to say, “I complained to God, and He rebuked me.” But that’s not what it says. He hears my voice—same as verse 1 of Psalm 77. He will hear me. Isn’t that beautiful?

The fact that you’re coming to God is an act of faith. And God wants you to pour out your heart to Him. And He doesn’t even care that it hasn’t been filtered theologically. He just wants you to express to Him how you feel.

This is so convicting for me as a husband and a father and a pastor, because my tendency is to try to fix the way people are saying things. I want to fix their grammar or their theology more than I want to minister to how they’re feeling.

God’s not like that. He hears you. And according to Romans 8, His Holy Spirit intercedes on your behalf anyway. He invites you to pour your heart out to Him.

The psalmist here isn’t trying to make theological statements or to question the eternal nature of God. He’s expressing how he feels. “It feels like God has changed His mind about blessing me. It feels like God is ignoring me.”

I would challenge you, that if you ever feel like God has abandoned You, tell Him. That’s what the psalms of lament do. They go to God in sincerity, not in a religious façade. And they communicate exactly how they feel. Pour your anguish out to God. He wants you to go to Him.

And then, once you’ve done that, He wants you to do something else. And this is where the psalm takes a turn. We go from the anguish to the answer. This is the turning point of the psalm.

The obvious answer to the questions in verse 7-9 is, “No.” God’s faithful, loyal, promised love has never stopped. And it never will. The psalmist knows that. And so he responds to his own questions.

Verse 10—Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

Your translation might have something pretty different for verse 10. That’s because there are two words in this verse that have a debatable translation.

The first word is a noun that could either mean “grief” or “appeal.” And the second is a word that could either mean “changed” or “powerless” or “years.”

So, if we consider the flow of the passage, the best options are that the psalmist is either sickened or revolted by the idea that God’s nature has somehow changed (ala NAS or CSB), or he’s comforting himself by the reminder of God’s faithfulness (ala ESV)

If we accept the translation as written in the New American and in the Christian Standard, it’s not that he thinks God has changed. It’s that he comes to his senses and realized how horrible that thought would be.

Asaph is saying to himself: “Of course God’s love hasn’t changed. It will never change! That would be a sickening thought! It would be a grievous thought!”

Hebrews says it’s impossible for God to lie. He is a God of truth and faithfulness. He’s a God of steadfast, loyal love. He keeps every promise He’s ever made.

And so, since that’s the case, the problem here isn’t with God at all, but with my perception of Him.

And where do we go to get the proper perception of God? As Christians, we know exactly where to go. We go to His word. We go to His self-revelation. And for this Israelite, it meant remembering the history of his nation.

Look at verse 11—I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. ¹²I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds.

What’s the answer in this time of anguish? What’s the solution? Twice in verse 11, it says “I will remember.” Verse 12. “I will ponder… I will meditate.”

Here’s the answer to the anguish: Remember the power and the faithfulness of God. Remember the power and the faithfulness of God.

In the first half of the psalm, the writer mentions thinking about God, but it doesn’t tell us what he was thinking about specifically. I think that’s because he didn’t know what to think. He was just thinking about God in some fuzzy, unspecific way.

And when that doesn’t work he starts thinking about the good, old days of his own life. But that didn’t work either.

But now, something’s changed. He’s not thinking about his life any more. And he’s not thinking in some generic way about God. He’s going to meditate specifically on the power and the faithfulness of God.

And to do that, He’s not even going to think about his own life. He’s going to think about something that happened before he was even born.

That’s such a critical point here. Here’s the lesson from that: The best and most trustworthy examples of God’s power and faithfulness are not the examples from our personal lives, though those are helpful. The best and most trustworthy examples, the ones that will help you the most, are the examples we’ve been given in Scripture.

Comfort and help and strength aren’t going to come from you. I’s not about looking deeper into yourself. It’s about looking at God through His word.

If you look back at verses 1-6, and count how many times you find the words: “I, me,” or “my,” you come up with 20 or 21, depending on your translation. Six verses, with 20 references to himself. One commentator calls it “a king-sized case of introspection.” That’s not good. It’s not healthy.

If you ever meet someone who feels burdened with fear or worry or some kind of trouble, try to help them see how much of their thoughts or their conversations are focused on themselves. God is not the center; they are. God is just a character; but He’s not the main character; He’s not the focus..

This is the main lesson of this psalm: Stop focusing on yourself, and start intentionally and deliberately focusing on God’s power and God’s faithfulness.

Once Asaph turns to the solution, once he starts focusing and meditating on God’s power and faithfulness, his words change. And he only mentions himself a handful of times from verse 10 to the end.

That same commentator says “Self-centeredness has turned to God-centeredness.” From verse 10 onward, the writer mentions God over 25 times. You can count them yourself and mark that in your Bible.

God is the Most High. He is the powerful one, the One who works wonders, the Mighty One. He is holy and great.

How does this suffering saint know that? Does he feel it to be the truth? No. He doesn’t feel like that at all, at first. But he knows it’s true because he turns his mind and his attention to a historical event.

And what he chooses to focus on is Israel’s escape from Egypt—Israel’s redemption.

After the Ten Plagues on Egypt, and after Pharaoh let the Israelites leave Egypt, he changes his mind. Do you remember that? He went chasing after them, and the Israelites were trapped between Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea.

And the people thought they were going to die. They were terrified. And Moses said to them, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and see the salvation of the Lord…The Lord will fight for you.”

And the pillar of cloud moved behind the people and protected them from the Egyptians. And at the front, Moses stretched out his hand and his staff, and the sea parted in two. And the people crossed the Red Sea, the Bible says, “on dry land.” Dry land. It wasn’t even muddy. God provided a safe passage for them.

And when the Egyptians tried to chase after them, God held them up, and then the waters returned. And Pharaoh’s army drowned.

Then, the Bible says, the people feared the Lord and believed in Him. Of course they did! He just saved them. He miraculously rescued them from their enemy.

Do you know what happened next? The Red Sea is Exodus 14. What’s Exodus 15. Anybody know? … They sang a song. Moses and the people sang a song. And then Miriam sang a song.

And the heart of the song is Exodus 15:11-13 which say this: “Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods? Who is like you, majestic in holiness, awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders? You stretched out your right hand; the earth swallowed them. You have led in your steadfast love the people whom you have redeemed.”

Some of those very same words are used here in Psalm 77, verses 13-15—Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God? ¹⁴You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the people. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph… Selah …

Using the names of Jacob and Joseph is a vivid reminder of God’s faithfulness. They were the main characters at the end of Genesis, when Israel went into Egypt in the first place. And yet, they had been promised that they would leave one day. Joseph even made his family promise not to bury him in Egypt. His bones were to be taken out of Egypt when they left. Because he believed in the promises of God.

God is faithful. God keeps His promises. And God is powerful. He does whatever He wants. That’s what the parting of the Red Sea demonstrated.

Look at how verses 16-19 describe it. It’s a celebration of God’s power—When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. ¹⁷The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side.

I think that’s a reference to the storm and the cloud behind them that protected them from Pharaoh. God sent a storm.

Verse 18—The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook. ¹⁹Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen.

What’s that last line talking about? “Your footprints were unseen.” It means no one actually got to see God. The evidence of His presence was clearly there, but nobody saw Him. And when it was all over, the sea went back to normal, and the path was gone.

But even with no physical evidence of what God had done, we know God was there. Because God is always with His people. That’s what Asaph is remembering.

“I may not see you right now. I may not have any physical evidences of Your presence. But that doesn’t change who You are or what Your promises are. You are here. And you are shepherding me. You are leading me.”

God never leaves His people alone. He guides them. He shepherds them—even through the darkest valleys of this life. And He will lead them into eternal life.

The closing verse of this psalm is such a contrast to images we just received. Asaph wrote about a storm with clouds and thunder and lightning. He wrote about the earth shaking.

And now he writes about a flock. Verse 20—You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Through that severe storm, you were leading your people. And He is still leading His people. That’s the promise of God’s word. Romans 8 reminds us that the suffering of this life is not worthy to be compared to the glory that awaits us. God is leading us to that glory.

Like Asaph, in the worst of troubles, we need to remember and meditate on the power of God and the faithfulness of God, which He’s revealed in His word.

Let me say it like this: In times of difficulty, you don’t need a personal or emotional basis for hope, you need a historical and biblical one.

And greater than Israel’s redemption from Egypt at the hands of Moses and Aaron, we have the redemption from sin through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

And so, Paul asks in Romans 8, “He who did not spare His own son, but gave Him up for us all, how will he not also with Him graciously give us all things?” 

God’s not withholding aything from us. Our inheritance will be ours in eternity. But right now, we need to trust Him by leaning on His power and His faithfulness.

Stop seeking solace only in yourself, or in the things of this life. Turn to God and let His truth minister to your soul.