Jeff Lark

  God, what do we do in our shame? How do we navigate uncertain terrain when we don’t know the way? How do we face the day knowing that the guilt of our sin weighs heavy upon us? How do we go through life when our soul is overwhelmed with stress and trouble? God, these are the themes of this psalm and the cry of David’s heart. As David sat to pen this song, I guess he had his coffee that morning. His brain was firing on all cylinders. This is an acrostic psalm, with each verse starting with the following Hebrew letter. And it’s a chiastic psalm with three parallel sections (v. 1-3 parallel v. 11-22; v. 4-5 parallel v. 12-14; and v. 6-7 parallel v. 11). God, it’s in these outer circles of this song where we see all of these themes. Through these outer circles, David leads us straight to the centerpiece - the bullseye of this psalm (v. 8-10). In other words, how do I know God will meet me in my shame and the anguish of my soul? How do I know that he will lead me in the midst o

God, we don’t know for sure the occasion for this psalm, but it certainly could have been when David brought the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem in 2 Samuel 6. During that scene in 2 Samuel 6, the narrative is colored by tragedy as the Ark of God makes its way to Jerusalem. The tragedy is when the Ark begins to topple when the ox stumbles, and Uzzah reaches out his hand, touching the Ark to steady it. And, in touching the Ark, he immediately dies. Three months later, determined to get the Ark to Jerusalem, David tries again. But, knowing that he was moving You, the creator God, and that no unclean hands could touch the Ark (as in Uzzah’s case), and because only those with pure hearts could be in Your presence, they would only take six steps at a time and then stop to sacrifice a bull and a fattened calf (2 Samuel 6:13). God, every six steps a sacrifice was required to stay clean and pure! To be honest, that sounds just about right for my heart. The only reason I might think t

  God, in probably the most popular psalm in all of the Psalter, I have a hard time getting past the three words in the first line, “I lack nothing” (NIV) (or “I shall not want” - ESV). I stumble over these words because there is plenty that I want. I want the newest gadgets. I want the smell of a new car. I want everyone to admire me. I want a conflict-free marriage. I want conflict-free parenting. I want no traffic. I want to be the first in line everywhere I go. I want scholarships for my kids. I want no one to get in the way of my plans. I want respect. I want ease, comfort, and pain-free life. I want perfect health and to simply die in my sleep in old age. God, I have no idea what it feels like to live a life lacking nothing. I can feel like I live in poverty because my want-er is broken. My desires are desperately misdirected. It’s not that David turned off desire; it’s that his desires were rightly directed. When he wrote this psalm, his want-er was working prop

  God, the beaver in the Chronicles of Narnia says it well, "They say Aslan is on the move - perhaps has already landed."   God, as I write this on February 22, 2023, the Asbury chapel has been going on for two weeks. You decided to use an ordinary chapel, an ordinary chapel speaker, and a few ordinary students who stayed to pray and confess to pour out your Spirit in ways we have not seen in America in decades. You have been pleased to visit that little campus in that little chapel in little Wilmore, Kentucky numerous times over the last 125 years - 1905, 1908, 1921, 1950, 1958, 1970, 1992, and 2006. Most of these were 3 or 4 days of continuous prayer and confession. Only in 1908 did it continue for two weeks. But what you did in the week of February 3, 1970, so closely parallels what is happening today, 53 years later. And God, I hear that these revivals were precipitated by students begging you to show up. As Psalm 40 expresses, they waited for you to show up. Prayed, wai

  Jesus, while words are utterly inadequate to describe the wonder, splendor, and majesty of this psalm, and while this psalm leaves us speechless, all we can get out of our mouths are the four simple words which conclude this psalm - “he has done it.” Jesus, we know you uttered the very first line of this psalm while on the cross (Matthew 27:46). In light of how closely verses 1-21 describe your experience on the cross, it would make perfect sense that between gasps, you uttered those verses as well. And then, in v. 22, the psalm shifts. There is hope - a sense of deliverance - a future proclamation to Israel and the nations. Jesus, as you hung on that cross, when you caught a moment of reprieve from the pain, to the astonishment of all who were listening, did you also utter these words of victory? As life was draining from your veins, were you praying the rest of this psalm, proclaiming your resurrection? We don’t know. But, we do know that you uttered the first line (My God,

  Lord, similarly to my prayer and reflections on Psalm 20, it isn’t too difficult to use a little sanctified imagination to hear the disciples also praying this psalm. But, this time, it’s the ragtag group of about 120 disciples and followers praying this psalm in the upper room just after they witnessed you ascending into heaven (Acts 1:14). God, only 50 days earlier, on a hopeless Saturday, they were left wondering how you couldn’t have answered their prayers of psalm 20 when you let the anointed King see defeat at the hands of his enemies. But then, hope returned as you raised the anointed King in victory over the greatest enemies the world has ever known - sin and death. And then, Jesus, after your resurrection, you opened their minds to the scriptures to see their fulfillment in you (Luke 24:27). And this brings us, Jesus, to that group of disciples praying in that upper room after your ascension and before the Spirit birthed the church (Acts 2). As they were huddled together

  Lord, with some sanctified imagination, I can imagine Peter, James, and John praying this psalm in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night of your betrayal. They knew the threats against you, and as they were fighting sleep, I can hear them praying for your protection (v. 1). They likely would have been praying for the Father to send help and to keep in mind how you have lived a fully devoted life (v. 2-3). Lord, maybe after you had to wake them up, they got back to this psalm and continued praying for you to receive your heart's desire and that God would grant victory to you and them (v. 4-5). And then, after being awakened by you again, they continue with an assurance that God will truly save his anointed. Others may trust in chariots, but if you had taught them anything, it was to trust in the Lord. And so, they confidently affirmed that they (and you) would rise in triumph (v. 6-8). And as they concluded this prayer with, "O lord, save the king" (v. 9), they dozed off

  God, this psalm celebrates the fact that you have spoken. As I look out my window and see the sun rising, I hear your voice.  Today, every one of the nearly 8 billion people on earth will have access to your glory as your sun makes its circuit around the globe. As the shadows fade today and the light and warmth of your sun slowly creep across countries and continents, you graciously declare, “Look at me. I am doing this. Knowledge is behind this. Design and goodness are orchestrating this symphony. Grace is warming you and is growing your crops. Here me when I daily declare to you my glory and goodness.” But God, this isn’t the only way you have spoken. You’ve also given us a book that declares explicitly who you are. God, with David, let me truly rejoice in it. Let me love it more than the riches of the world. And God, as I seek to delight in your word, use it to warn me (v. 11). Use it to help me see my sin (v. 12). Use it to help me walk in righteousness (v. 13). And

  God, this is a beautiful psalm celebrating how you moved heaving and earth to save David. Up to this point in the psalter, David is looking for your deliverance by faith. You have provided some smaller victories, but as the title of this psalm says, you have now defeated Saul and have subdued his enemies. After years of running for his life, you have finally placed your anointed on the throne. God, as I meditate on this psalm, I can’t help but think of how you so lovingly and powerfully saved me. I have known the bondage of the cords of death (v. 4 and 5). I have known the anxiety of feeling swallowed up in hopelessness. I’ve known the bondage and utter destruction of sin. I’ve known it as a 17-year-old, and I’ve known it as a 50-year-old. But, God, verses 7-17 paint a stunning image - that in response to my call of distress to you, you start moving - and not like an old man with arthritic knees. Instead, like a warrior, you thunder, and the earth quakes - hailstones, dark

Lord, this psalm is a cry of Ukraine today (and for the last several months).  It's definitely the cry of Tyre Nichols mother and a community fearful if they will be the next one pulled over and beaten.  And, it's a cry for all who have and are suffering unjustly. This is a psalm about suffering under injustice. And while it looks like David is saying that he is sinless, he seems to be saying that he has done nothing to deserve to be hunted like a wild animal. And so, I pray this psalm today in solidarity with those in our country who have suffered and continue to suffer unjustly, along with praying this for/with the Ukrainians. God, why are you acting unjustly by allowing the innocent to suffer at the hands of the powerful? Please hear the prayer of those calling out to you in their pain. God, vindicate the innocent (v. 1-2). God, while no one is guiltless, those tortured and killed by the ruthless don’t deserve this (v. 3-5). God, the wicked seem to be winning. This

Jesus, I thank you that this psalm is a glimpse into your soul. We have the privilege of hearing a good portion of this psalm quoted in the first-ever sermon of the early church in Acts 2. And, as Peter would point out, David said this about you (Acts 2: 25). Jesus, as David glimpsed into the future, it’s as if David was expressing your very heart.   What, then, was your heart?   - Your heart was glad (v. 9). - your whole being rejoiced (v. 9). - Your heart is full of joy (v. 11). - Your heart is experiencing eternal pleasures (v. 11). Jesus, you knew suffering in your earthly life. In fact, Isaiah 55:3 says that you were a “man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” You died as a slave. But, as Hebrews 12:2 declares, you endured the cross because of the “joy that was before you” - the joy on the other side of the cross. Jesus, in the dark clouds of sorrow and grief, there were the bright rays of light shining through.   Jesus, you were no stoic. You didn’t go through life devoid of em

Perfectly righteous !?! God, this psalm seems to stand in stark contrast to the description of the "fool" in Psalm 14. And, if Psalm 14 was an accurate description of who I am, this psalm certainly describes who I'm not. And, even though this is a psalm of David, it doesn't describe who he is either. "Who does no evil to his neighbor" (v. 3). Really? He slept with his neighbor and then killed her husband. I think that may classify as doing evil to your neighbor. And so, God, David and I are condemned by his very words. There is no way we could ever dwell in your presence - now nor for eternity. But, Jesus, thank you that, as a great, great, great (and many more greats) grandson of David, you were the one who perfectly fulfilled the righteousness that this psalm requires. Jesus, it is easy to say that you lived a perfect life. But, much more than that, you lived the righteous life I was required to live. Jesus, thank you gospel grace. And, thank you

  The verdict God, as I meditate on this psalm, I am overwhelmed by your gospel-graciousness. In reading verses 1-4, my mind immediately goes to Romans 3, where Paul quotes these verses as a final and declarative pronouncement of judgment upon all humanity. God, I cannot squirm my way out from under this judgment. I can’t defend myself against this verdict. I can’t become my own defense attorney to make a case that would make me not guilty. But God, you flip the script on its head. Instead of condemning the guilty fool and saving the righteous (as this psalm seems to declare), you saved the guilty fool by condemning the righteous. This is Paul’s gospel declaration - the just dying for the unjust so the unjust could be justified instead of condemned. God, salvation did indeed come out of Zion (v. 7). Jesus, you restored (v. 7) to us all that our sin robbed from us. Thank you, Jesus, for turning our terror (v. 5) into gospel-gladness. Amen