Distressed, Deceived, and Delighted

Psalm 4

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. That may be one of the biggest lies our culture has ever told.

Pastor Jim Cymbala, who at 81 years of age is STILL the lead pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle and author of several books, including bestseller Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire, which is a book I highly recommend, once said this:

About 20 years ago, I said something impromptu to the new members standing in a row across the front of the church. As we received them, the Holy Spirit prompted me to add, “And now, I charge you that if you ever hear another member speak an unkind word of criticism or slander against anyone – myself, an usher, a choir member, or anyone else – that you stop that person in mid-sentence and say, ‘Excuse me – who hurt you? Who ignored you? Who slighted you? Was it Pastor Cymbala? Let’s go to his office right now. He’ll apologize to you, and then we’ll pray together so God can restore peace to this body. But we won’t let you talk critically about people who aren’t present to defend themselves.’

“I’m serious about this. I want you to help resolve this kind of thing immediately. And know this: If you are ever the one doing the loose talking, we’ll confront you.” To this day, every time we receive new members, I say much the same thing. That’s because I know what most easily destroys churches. It’s not crack cocaine, government oppression, or even lack of funds. Rather it’s gossip and slander that grieves the Holy Spirit”

Most of the time, when we talk about gossip, slander, lying, we talk about them as things we shouldn’t do. But what do you do when you’re the one being lied about? What do you do when you’re the one being injured by someone else’s words? What do you do when someone else’s anger, or rage, hurts you, damages your reputation, costs you your job, your position, your influence? Lies. Gossip. Slander. Rash words spoken in uncontrolled anger. They pierce, they wound, they maim. They leave the life of the one spoken about forever changed. How do we face life after someone has hurt us deeply in that way?

King David wrestled with that same question. Turn with me to Psalm 4.  

Look at V. 1. Can you hear the urgency in his voice? “Answer me when I call …” That’s not a request. That’s not a suggestion. That’s the demand of a hurting heart. Answer! Be gracious! Those are imperatives. They demand an audience. He demands not only that his words are heard, but that they are acted on. Is he presuming to command God? No. But he’s hurting. His situation is desperate. And he’s crying out in desperation. That’s the urgency we’re seeing here. It’s the panicked cry of someone seriously injured by someone else’s words who wants the only one who can fix it to act now. I’m hurt. It’s serious. Take care of it now.

What’s happened to this person that has caused such deep pain? Think about it. This ancient hymn has traditionally been attributed to King David, the mighty king. Cunning, at times ruthless, warrior king of Israel. The one who single-handedly and without a weapon had killed a bear and a lion. The one who had the internal moxie AND trust in God to take on Goliath, a huge man, without armor. What’s happened to him that he’s so desperate for help?

Look at v. 2. He speaks directly to the ones who’ve hurt him. His honor, his reputation has been damaged by the words of someone else. By rumors and gossip. By outright lies. Actually, it’s not just one person. It’s several, and they wield a lot of power.

The word translated as “O men” here is a word used not of just anyone, but of the elite. The ruling class. The prominent citizens. The power brokers.  They were the landowners, the wealthy, the powerful. They were community leaders. This is not the first time that the influential, the wealthy, the powerful have received a warning in Scripture, and it will not be the last. Jesus himself will take the same line. But the warning is always given in love, because resources and positions of influence bring with them a real temptation to use those things to hurt others.

We can all be tempted to use our positions, our influence, our resources in improper and ungodly ways. A little gossip here and there to improve our standing in the neighborhood association and maybe knock that annoying neighbor down a few notches. Or to climb over someone at work. Or to get our bid for a job accepted over our competitor. Who, lets be honest, doesn’t really have our level of expertise anyway. We hurt others with our words. Words spoken when they aren’t around.

We can also be the victim of someone else’s words. Words spoken behind our backs, when we aren’t around. David did plenty of damage to others with his position and authority and the resources at his disposal. But he was also the victim of the aspirations of others. People in positions of power and influence have gone after his reputation, after his honor.

In our world, a person’s honor doesn’t mean much, but in the ancient world it was of the highest value. It spoke to a person’s dignity and respect, to one’s self-esteem and social competence, to one’s position among family, friends, and in the community, and that was everything. And any act of shaming, acts like those that had brought David to such a low place, were considered acts more violent than any act of physical harm.

Now it’s important to understand here that there is a real difference between guilt and shame. Guilt does involve feeling bad. But guilt involves feeling bad for actions done. When we’ve done wrong, and we either figure out that we’ve done wrong or someone else does, we feel guilty and we should, until some reparation, whether it’s as simple as an apology or involves more, maybe financial reparations, or time spent suspended or in jail. The feeling of guilt – which is different than actually being guilty, because some really antisocial people do horrific things and never feel guilt – the feeling of guilt is associated with something outside of us. Something we have done.

Shame is different. Shame is deeper. It involves feeling bad for who you are. Shame isn’t “I did something wrong.” Shame is “I AM something wrong.” Shame leads to hopelessness. And what these people were doing threatened to lead David to shame, not guilt.

We often think of something that happens only to kids. But the truth is, bullying exists not just in school locker rooms, playgrounds, and cafeterias. It exists in corporate board rooms and offices, in community centers and neighborhoods. And yes, it exists in churches too. When we adults call someone a bully, we mean it almost as a joke, because words don’t hurt adults, right? Wrong. They hurt. They maim. They destroy. Anytime people use words to seek to destroy, not actually kill, but destroy the life, the well-being, the sense of community around a person, a grievous harm is done.

But David is a realist here. He knows there will be times when people get angry with him. Look at verse 4. He knows not everyone will like him. He knows that others will, for whatever reason, not like him. Maybe because their personalities clash, or because they don’t like the way he does this or does that, or because he keeps doing things they don’t like. And the word used for anger here is a word reserved for really intense emotion. It pictures someone so angry they’re trembling.

But look at what he says. It’s ok. Be angry. But in your anger do not sin. Anger itself isn’t bad. It isn’t wrong. It just is. It’s when someone speaks or acts out of that anger and harm is done that someone falls into sin. The problem comes when, instead of working things out directly with the person we’re angry with, we try to draw others into our anger. When we try to get other people angry with the person we’re angry with too. When we see someone else attacked and maligned, we tend to get angry, especially if that person is a vulnerable person, like a child, or someone close to us, a good friend. The same truth holds for us. It’s ok to be angry. But don’t escalate the situation.

In Matthew 5:23-24, Jesus says, “So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” If someone is angry with you, go and see if there is something you can do to make it right.

And if someone has said or done something to hurt you, if you are the victim of someone else’s words? Again, in Matthew 18:15-17, Jesus says, “If your brother (or sister, in Christ) sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”

Lets take a minute to unpack what Jesus says here. The first step, if someone’s words or gossip is hurting you, is to go to them directly. NOT share what they did with someone else. But go to them directly. A text message isn’t directly. Personally, I’d do it in person if possible. And not harshly. There’s no need to yell and condemn and point a finger in their face. Just tell them how their words about you are hurting you. And if they don’t change, take someone else with you. Not someone you’ve drawn into the drama, someone who has heard the gossip themselves. Jesus uses the word “witnesses.” In other words, establishing that something wrong really has been said about you. Someone else who actually heard it.

And then, if that doesn’t work – then you go to the pastor and church leadership. And when even that doesn’t work … you throw them out right? No, that isn’t actually what Jesus says. He says you treat them as a Gentile or a tax collector. In other words, you love them as you would love anyone who needs to hear and receive the love of Jesus. You go back to treating them as someone who doesn’t know Jesus, and you love them. What’s Jesus getting at here? Do everything you possibly can to protect the unity of the church.

Jesus knows that we will mess up. He knows that sin will creep in to our interactions with one another. That’s why he gives us his way of making things right. St. Paul comes back to the same thing, and actually acknowledges that sometimes nothing will help. In Romans 12:18, he writes, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” Do your part, regardless of how the other person responds, and make every effort not to make things worse. Like a nuclear war, when we find ourselves engaged in a war of words with verbal missiles flying from both sides, no one wins, and if the church is involved or dragged into the fray, the testimony of the body of Christ is damaged in that community, maybe farther.

But you know, even though the Psalmist is really hurting and is desperate for divine intervention here, his heart hasn’t given up all hope. Why? Because he knows who he really is. He calls God the “God of my righteousness” (v. 1), and the one who “has set apart the godly for himself” and who “hears when I call to him.” He knows that he has a relationship with God, a relationship in which he is known by God. And he wants the people who have hurt him to be known by God as well.

Look at V. 5. His desire isn’t to do them harm in return, but to see them made right before God. He wants them to come back to a right relationship with God, to know God.

So what does it mean to be known by God, and to know God? Well, it certainly starts with an intellectual knowledge about God. When people say they want to learn more about God, that’s what they’re saying. But for many Christians that’s where their knowledge of God stops, especially for men. So many men have knowledge about God, but nothing more than that. We men have a tendency to keep God at a distance. We have difficulty with intimacy in any relationship (with the POSSIBLE exception of our relationship with our wife), and that includes our relationship with God. We don’t like the idea of God messing around in our lives. I don’t really know why that is, but I suspect it has something to do with our need for control.

But intellectual knowledge isn’t enough. Being known by God, the word known here implies more than just something in our heads. It is knowledge sharpened by experience.

Think about marriage. Now how many of you have been married for say 30 years, raise your hands. To the same person I mean. Now let’s give all of these people a round of applause! That’s an amazing accomplishment. So those of you who’ve been married to the same person for 30 years, think back to the day before you were married. How well did you know your spouse that day? Well? Maybe. But as well as you do today? Not very likely. Most would say “I didn’t know him … I didn’t know her at all.” Knowledge sharpened by experience together.

Look at Vv. 6-7. David draws upon that knowledge here. He knows that God hears him when he calls, that in the past God has given him some relief when he was in trouble. And he knows that his relationship with God outweighs what anyone else says about him.

David is distressed. He’s dismayed. His reputation has been ruined. Evil has been spoken of him. Some would say that this Psalm goes back to the time he was temporarily dethroned by his own son in an act of treason and rebellion. Lies. Anger. Hatred. Pain. But David knows who he is in the eyes of God. And because of that. Because he knows who he is, look at what he says in V. 8.

David has no delusions here. He knows things are bad. The pain is still there and its real. He’s not in denial of it. He’s perplexed. He doesn’t know why God has allowed this to happen and why God isn’t fixing it. But he knows that he has the promise of God’s presence in the midst of his adversity. He knows that his identity in God transcends the opinions of others, and he has a joy that comes not from his circumstances but from God’s acceptance of him. And he has peace. The word there is the Hebrew word “shalom.” It means more than peace as we know it. Shalom means not just the absence of difficulty but the presence of peace. It speaks of completeness, ultimate fulfillment, perfect security. It speaks of satisfaction and contentment. Things aren’t great for David. He’s distressed. Deceitful things have been spoken about him. But in the midst of that, he finds delight. Delight in his relationship with God. Knowing that he is a child of God, and his life is in God’s hands.

So maybe you’re someone who’s not so much been doing the gossiping, the slander, who hasn’t spoken the angry, evil words, but you’re someone who’s been the target of those missiles. And they’ve hit home. Maybe, like David, you’re facing difficult circumstances that you don’t understand, circumstances that have gotten out of control and you don’t know where the heck God is or what he’s doing.

God wants you to know today that he is your God, that he is still with you in your adversity. That although he may not change our circumstance … he didn’t change them for Jesus on the cross when he cried out … he will stand with us in them. That he hears when we call, and that we can lie down in shalom, in peace. And as we do, we know that even if we must pray with Job, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him,” even if that must be our prayer, we are in his hands. That no matter what we are facing, and no matter what others say about us, he is slowly but surely bringing us home into his loving embrace.  For when we know who we are in Christ, we can say with St. Paul that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus (Phip. 4:7).” Yes, words hurt. They do real damage. But we can still lay down in peace, knowing who we are in Christ.  Let us pray.