A Sermon preached on March 1, 2009, by the Rev. Dr. S. Randall Toms
At St. Paul’s Reformed Episcopal Church, Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest. Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me. Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice. Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy free spirit. (Ps. 51:1-12)
We began this Lenten season Wednesday evening by reading together the 51st Psalm, one of the most moving and beautiful expressions of repentance that we find in Holy Scripture. We have committed so many of the verses in this chapter to memory that they have become part of our vocabulary, part of our cultural heritage, even. As Anglicans, the words of the 51st Psalm are never far from our lips and our hearts. Not only do we read this Psalm on Ash Wednesday, but as we do Morning and Evening Prayer during Lent we will read this chapter twice more. Over the course of the entire year, we read it 10 times. Not only that, but there are words from the 51st Psalm, that as Anglicans, we say every day of the year. “O Lord, open thou our lips, and our mouth shall shew forth thy praise” (see Ps. 51:15). “O God, make clean our hearts within us. And take not thy Holy Spirit from us” (see Ps. 51:10-11).
Down through the centuries, this Psalm has been used by the Church to express our great sorrow for our sins. The Orthodox Church has always used it very frequently in its various liturgical services. Athanasius recommended that Christians should say this prayer if they were unexpectedly awakened in the middle of the night. Martin Luther said, “There is no other Psalm which is oftener sung or prayed in the church.” Well, that might have been true in Luther’s time, but in our modern evangelical churches, we don’t sing or pray this Psalm very much, because we feel that we are done with repentance and sorrow for sin. But in the true, one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, this Psalm has never gone out of fashion. Individual believers have always found it to express the deep sadness of their hearts when they have sinned against God. Remember that the Psalms are the hymns of the ancient Church. If you will notice in the heading, there is an instruction to the chief musician. This is a plaintive Psalm, sung by the Church as a whole when they meet together, for there is no one in the midst of the assembly of God’s people who does not need to pray this prayer on a daily, even moment by moment basis.
Now that we are in the season of Lent, we should have two goals mind. First, we hope to come out of this holy time with a greater sense of our sin, accompanied by a greater brokenness of our hearts for the many ways in which we have offended a holy and loving God. Next, we want to experience the joy of knowing that these sins, horrendous as they are, have been blotted out, forgiven through the shed blood of Jesus Christ. Though the Christian always practices the disciplines of self-examination and repentance, it is good that we have this season of Lent to concentrate on these matters so that the discipline practiced during Lent will carry on into the rest of year. In his book on the Festivals and Fasts, Bishop Hobart wrote:
The duties of humiliation and repentance are of constant obligation, and are the essential and uniform characteristics of the sincere Christian. But there is great propriety in setting apart a season for the more particular and solemn discharge of duties, which otherwise might be entirely forgotten, or only imperfectly and superficially discharged. When the mournful anniversary approaches of the sufferings and death of Christ, it is highly proper that the Church should lay aside the songs of praise and triumph which distinguished the preceding joyful festivals, and in humility and penitence prepare to sympathize in the sorrows of her Lord; it is highly proper that Christians should call to mind the sins which brought their Saviour to the cross, and express their deep sorrow for them by acts of humiliation and self-denial. The solemn and devout exercises of this holy season tend also to strengthen in the soul the sentiments of piety and virtue, and to prepare us for successfully encountering the temptations of the world.
We have come a long way since the time of Bishop Hobart. How many modern Christians do you suppose would say that the essential and uniform characteristics of the sincere Christian are the duties of humiliation and repentance? Our Anglican forefathers, and the writers of holy Scripture saw the Christian life and experience in an entirely different way that what we have been conditioned to believe about the nature of true Christian spirituality.
If, as Bishop Hobart says, the duties of humiliation and repentance are the essential and uniform characteristics of the sincere Christian, I can think of no better way to cultivate these characteristics than by deeply studying, praying, and meditating on the 51st Psalm. Thus, during the season of Lent, we are going to look closely at this Psalm, and may God in his mercy use it work in us true sorrow for sin, deep humiliation, and the joy of sins forgiven. You will never outgrow your need for the 51st Psalm. You will never become so spiritual, that there will not be times when you will need to bow before God in deep sorrow and repentance, using words very similar to what we find David using here.
We are told in the heading to this Psalm, that what prompted its writing was David’s sorrow after Nathan the prophet had confronted him with the sin that he had committed with Bathsheba. We all remember the sordid story of how David saw Bathsheba, lusted after her and he took her to himself, though she was the wife of another man. We all know how David conspired to have her husband Uriah the Hittite to be killed in battle. It is so horrible to think that David could have committed such horrible sins. After all, think of who David was and all that he accomplished in his life, all the virtues he had displayed. This is the man who as a young boy had fought and killed Goliath. What faith he had in God! Look at him standing up to Goliath and saying, “Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the LORD deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the LORD saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give you into our hands” (I Samuel 17:45-47). That’s the brave young man, so sure of God, so sure of his faith in God, so sure of God’s presence with him, that not even the mighty champion of the Philistines could cause his faith in God to waver. And it is this same man who won’t be able to resist a woman. This same man will succumb to adultery and murder.
We look at David when Saul was so jealous of him and wanted to kill him, but we are told, “And David behaved himself wisely in all his ways; and the Lord was with him” (I Sam. 18:16). Wise David! And yet, there would come a time when he would be a very foolish David.
We see David, who when he had the chance to kill Saul, would not touch the Lord’s anointed. But this man who would not kill when many people would say that he would have good reason, now kills a faithful man of his own army in order to avoid scandal and have his wife.
When people were turning against him, we are told that “David encouraged himself in the Lord his God” (I Samuel 30:6). Here is a man who knew how to find his peace and consolation in God alone. Yet, he will come to believe that the only way he can be satisfied is by taking another man’s wife.
Then, if we just look at the book of Psalms and see all of the expressions of devotion that flowed from the mouth and hand of David. David knew the Lord in such a rich and wonderful way. Some scholars estimate that Psalm 51 was written some 23 years after the 23rd Psalm. How could the man who wrote the 23rd Psalm, how could the man who could yearn for God and the worship of God so much, become an adulterer and a murderer? There is only one answer to that question: David was a sinner, as we all are. Though he was the man after God’s own heart, he was still a sinner. You may achieve the lofty spirituality of the apostle Paul, but you will still find in your heart what we read a few moments ago in our epistle reading, how there is a “law working in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members” (Rom. 7:23).
You know, we often think that we can get to the place in our lives where we are incapable of committing certain sins. Sometimes, we think that if we have a certain experience, perhaps a very powerful conversion experience, we will never succumb to certain temptations. We may hear of a Christian friend, perhaps a minister of the Gospel even, who is caught in some notorious sin, and we may jump to the conclusion, “Well, he was just never really saved. If he had really been saved, if he had really been a Christian, then he couldn’t have done that.” Oh yes, he could have. God’s greatest saints may become guilty of the greatest sins. Peter can deny three times that he even knew the Lord. Some people often tell me, “Well, that was before the Holy Spirit was poured out. After Pentecost, he was never cowardly again.” Ask the Apostle Paul if that is true. You remember that Peter was so scared of offending the Jews he wouldn’t eat with the Gentiles.
Paul said he played the hypocrite this way simply out of fear, that old fear that caused him to deny Christ. Paul said that even Barnabas was caught up in that hypocrisy. Some people think that if they have some kind of second experience after conversion, like being filled with the Holy Spirit or achieving the point of complete surrender, they will no longer be troubled by certain sins, and they will not be capable of committing them. If the Scripture teaches us anything, it teaches us that even believers are capable of falling into any sin, and that we must watch, pray, fight, wrestle with our sins, with Satan, with the world, until our dying day. Thus, the Apostle Paul admonishes, “Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall” (I Cor. 10:12). David Dickson, the great Scottish commentator, put it like this, “How soon the most mortified lust may be kindled, and break forth like fire in the embers when it meeteth with powder; how frail the strongest of the saints are in themselves, when they are tempted to sin; and what need he who standeth hath to take heed lest he fall; for the holy prophet, the sweet singer of Israel, is here foully defiled by his going in to Bathsheba.”
I don’t want anyone to use David’s sin as an excuse for ungodly living, presuming on the grace of God, but I’m glad that Psalm 51 is in the Bible, because I need it. I am sorry that David fell in this way, but it is a comfort to know that even if a child of God falls in this fashion, there is still mercy with the Lord. If a person commits a terrible sin, it doesn’t mean that he was never a child of God. It does not mean that he has to start seeking a new conversion experience, and then once he has it, he can say, “Now, I’m set. That was my problem. I just never was converted. Now, I won’t ever do anything like that again.” Poor soul! Unless you have an incredible gift for self-deception, you are going to have to have thousands of “true” conversion experiences.
Part of our problem with believing that David was a true child of God at the time he committed this horrible act is that the sins were so horrendous: adultery and murder. You may think that a true child of God wouldn’t do those things. Well, would a true child of God tell a lie? Have you ever told a lie since you became a Christian? Well, that’s not as big a sin as murder and adultery. Oh, so now we are going to adopt the Roman Catholic doctrine of mortal and venial sins after all. Let me ask you a question. Is murder a damning sin? You say, “Yes.” Well, is lying a damning sin? Of course it is. All sin, every sin, deserves the eternal wrath of Almighty God. Let me cover a few other sins for you. Have you ever had false or erroneous views about God? Have you ever been selfish, self-seeking, or self-centered? Have you ever been guilty of unfaithfulness, distrust, hardness of heart, or pride? Have you ever been lukewarm or dead to the things of God?
Have you ever resisted the commands of God and the leading of the Holy Spirit? Have you ever grumbled when things did not go your way? Have you ever complained about your circumstances in life rather than being content with what God has given you? Have you ever violated oaths, vows, or promises? Have you ever acted hypocritically? Have you been ashamed to confess Christ before men or stand for holiness because of fear of what others might say about you? Have you ever been cold and negligent in your duty to worship God in his church? Have you ever been resistant, refusing to obey or to submit to those who have authority over you? Have you ever been guilty of sinful anger, envy, immoderate eating and drinking? Have you ever had lustful thoughts? Have you ever been guilty of idleness, covetousness, loving the things of this world too much, disrespectual, or prejudiced? You see, all of these are the respectable sins, and I would venture to say that most of us in this room have committed these sins, some of us have committed some of them this morning already, and some of us are committing them on a daily basis. Do you think that murder and adultery are the only sins that should bring out the heart-wrenching cry, “Have mercy on me, O my God.” You see, you don’t need Psalm 51 only when you have committed particularly heinous sins. You need the language of Psalm 51 all of the time.
Spurgeon explained the 51st Psalm like this:
I think that nobody will doubt that David was a child of God, and that, even when he had defiled himself, he was still dear to the great Father’s heart. I gather, therefore—I feel sure of it—that he was quite right in praying the language of this fifty-first psalm, and saying, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgression; wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!” Yet this is precisely the way in which an unconverted man ought to pray. It is only an enlargement of the prayer of the publican, “God be merciful to me a sinner!”
This language, so suitable to the sinner, was not out of place in the mouth of one who was not only a believer, but an advanced believer, an experienced believer, an inspired believer, a teacher of others, who, with all his faults, was such a one as we shall rarely see the like of again. Yes, amongst the highest of saints, there was a time with one of them, at least when the lowliest language was appropriate to his condition. There is a spirit abroad which tells us that children of God ought not to ask for pardon of their sins, for they have been pardoned; that they need not use such language as this, which is appropriate to sinners, for they stand in a totally different position. What I want to know is this: where are we to draw the line? If, on account of a certain sin, David was perfectly justified in appealing to God in the same style as a poor, unforgiven sinner would have done, am I never justified in doing so? Is it only a certain form of evil which puts a man under the necessities of humiliation?
It may be that the man has never fallen into adultery, or any other gross sin; but is there a certain extent of sin to which a man may go before, as a child of God, he is to pray like this? And is all that falls below that high-water mark of sin a something so inconsiderable that he need not go ask any particular forgiveness for it, or pray like a sinner at all about it? May I under most sins speak very confidently as a child of God, who has already been forgiven, to whom it is a somewhat remarkable circumstance that he should have done wrong, but still by no means a serious disaster? I defy anybody to draw the line; and if they do draw it, I will strike it out, for they have no right to draw it. There is no hint in the Word of God that for a certain amount of sin there is to be one style of praying, and for a certain lower amount of sin another style of praying.
I venture to say this, brethren, going farther—that, as this language is certainly appropriate in David’s mouth, and as it would be impossible to draw any line at which it would cease to be appropriate, the safest and best plan for you and for me is this—seeing that we are sinners, if we have not been permitted to backslide so much as David, yet we have better come in the same way: we had better take the lowest place, urge the lowliest plea, and so make sure of our salvation. It is safest to assume the greatest supposable need. Let us put ourselves into the humblest position before the throne of grace, and cry, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies.”
This is what I have learned in the Episcopal Church: I am a great sinner who needs a very great Savior. I’m not a monk who has peered into the Godhead with his mystic eye, although I have tried no telling how many meditation techniques to achieve it. I’m not a Puritan who has had an earth-shattering conversion experience, though I sought it with prayer and fasting for many years. I’m not one of the super-spiritual who has had his old nature eradicated, or who has been filled to the spirit to the degree that sin and temptation no longer bother me. I am not a gifted orator, a talented writer, or a lofty theologian. I am a wicked man, pleading for Christ to have mercy on a poor wretched sinner. I was thinking the other day that there is only one verse in the Bible I disagree with, and that is the one where Paul calls himself the chief of sinners, because I can say without fear of contradiction, that that title belongs to me. Of course, I don’t really disagree with the Bible at that point, because Paul just didn’t know about me yet when he made that statement. But every Christian knows that his own heart is cesspool of iniquity, that he is guilty of sin every day. The Christian knows that even his best actions are tainted with sin. My worship, my prayer, my study of God’s word, the work I do on the job, the service I give to my family and church, are never done with the whole-hearted effort and love to God and to my fellow man that God requires.
This is why Christians down through the centuries have used the 51st Psalm. Nearness to God, union with Christ, did not eliminate their own sense of sinfulness. As a matter of fact, the closer we draw to God, the more we see our sin and the more hideous it becomes. This is one of the purposes of Lent. When the last moment of Lent passes, the Christian doesn’t wipe his brow and say, “Whew! I made it 40 days without chocolate.” He comes to the end of Lent with a greater awareness of his sin, a greater sorrow for his sin.
The Christian comes to the end of Lent, crying out,
“O Lord, I never fully realized how horrible the condition of my heart really is. Have mercy on me, O God, blot out my transgression, wash me, cleanse me, purge me, create in me a clean heart, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me.”
This awareness of our need for cleansing, this recognition that we need to be made anew is the whole purpose of the Lenten season, for it reveals to us that there is only one place where we find this cleansing, and that is at the foot of the cross of Jesus. May God have mercy on us during this Lenten season to reveal to us our many sins and the corruption of our hearts.
May this sight of sin cause us to run to our Savior for cleansing, and may we celebrate a joyful Easter knowing that the grace of God is even greater than our sin.
Amen.
