Truth Magazine

By Keith Sharp

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy.

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;

That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven; for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? Do not even the publicans the same?

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so? (Matt. 5:43-47)

Recently, I heard my three-year-old son soberly discuss the difficult subject of hell with a little friend. He solemnly announced, “If you hit someone who didn’t hit you, you’ll go to hell.” Cute? Of course, I think so. But, sadly, this concept of love to friends and hatred to enemies is only too prevalent among sophisticated adults. The demands of the Lord so far transcend this carnal standard as to be virtually incomparable. What is the law, of Christ pertaining to love and hatred of other people?

For the sixth time in his address on the mount, Jesus replaced what his auditors had previously heard with His own doctrine. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy (Matt. 5:43). There are four key words in this passage. We will define each.

“Love” is at once one of the richest and one of the most abused words in the English language. One youthful wit, sorely smitten with infatuation for a pretty, young thing, described “love” as “an itch you can’t scratch.” What is its true meaning?

Greek is a language which is rich in synonyms; it has words with shades of meaning which English does not posses. In Greek there are four different words for love.

(i) There is the noun sterge with its accompanying verb stergein. These words are the characteristic words of family love . . . .

(ii) There is the noun eros and the accompanying verb eran. These words describe the love of a man for a maid; there is always passion in them; and there is always sexual love . . . . but as time went on they began to be tinged with the idea of lust rather than love, and they never occur in the New Testament at all.

(iii) There is philia with its accompanying verb philein. It describes real love, real affection . . . . It is the word of warm, tender affection ….

(iv) There is agape with its accompanying verb agapan. Agape is the word which is used here. The real meaning of agape is unconquerable benevolence, invincible goodwill. If we regard a person with agape, it means that no matter what that person does to us, no matter how he treats us, no matter if he insults us or injures us or grieves us, we will never allow any bitterness against him to invade our hearts, but we will regard him with unconquerable benevolence and goodwill which will seek nothing but his highest good (William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, 1, pp. 171, 172).

Thus, the love Christ demands that we exercise toward our enemies is the active desire to do good, not selfish passion, tender affection or empty words. The test and measure of love is its ability to forego its own selfish pleasure for the good of the object of that love (cf. 1 Jn. 3:16-18). In short, “love” is “active goodwill.” Luke’s parallel account illustrates this by demanding we “do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again,” thus being “merciful, as your Father also is merciful” (Lk. 6:35, 36) to show our love. The parable of the Good Samaritan is the Master’s own illustration of the meaning of this word (Lk. 10:25-37).

The term “neighbor” literally means “the (one) near” (W.E. Vine, An Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words, 111, 107). The Old Testament and Hebrew concept limited its application to “a member of the Hebrew commonwealth” (J.H. Thayer, A Greek English Lexicon of the New Testament, pp. 518, 519; cf. Acts 7:27). “Hate” carries the meaning “of malicious . . . feelings toward others whether towards the innocent or by mutual animosity” (Vine, II, 198). One’s “enemy” is “the person to whom one is hostile . . .” (Thayer, p. 265).

What law enjoined love of friends and hatred of enemies? The requirements to love one’s neighbor is specifically laid down in Leviticus 19:17, 18. Although the opposite demand, hatred of one’s enemies, was not specifically stated in the law, in a limited sense it was a fair application of the Old Testament. Jehovah required that Israel annihilate the Amalekites (Dent. 25:17-19) and the Canaanite nations that inhabited the land of promise before them (Dent. 7:1, 2, 16, 23-26). Pure men of God hated not only the ways of the Lord’s enemies; they abhorred the enemies themselves (Psa. 26:5; 31:6; 139:21, 22).

Thus, the law of Moses made a clear distinction between faithful children of Abraham and the ungodly Gentiles, and demands for love was limited to the godly. This had a dual purpose: protecting the people from their idolatrous enemies and preserving the lineage of the Messiah. Therefore, according to Paul, the law was the basis of enmity between Jew and Gentile (Eph. 2:14-18). This was one of its defects, which, although it served a legitimate, temporary purpose, necessitated its abrogation.

Evidently the Jews, in their traditions, had abused this principle, which applied to national and religious enemies, by applying it to personal adversaries. This violated the clear, Old Testament statute (Ex. 23:4, 5). How does the Master teach us to treat our enemies?

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you (Matt. 5:44; cf. Lk. 6:27, 28).

The Son of God requires that we love all kinds of people that we might normally consider enemies, for whatever reasons – personal, religious, racial, ethnic, national we might feel animosity toward them.

This supreme demand has primary application to the personal life of the Christian in relationship to other people. Therefore, that pacifist in international politics who fights and riots for “peace” so far misses the point of this great principle as to be ludicrous.

This ideal treatment of even one’s enemies is the height of the character of a Christian, setting him apart from all unbelievers. Yet, this is not an impossible requirement. Jesus does not demand that we have as much emotional affection for our enemies as for our own families. How does one feel tender affection for those who lie about him, seek to take away his job because of his stand for truth and even physically abuse him? But, we must always seek the highest good for our enemies, even for those who would persecute us for our faith.

The Master is our supreme example here as in every realm of faith. Of those who blasphemed, “Say we not well that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil?” (Jn. 8:48), Jesus lamented:

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not (Matt. 23:37).

He died for and offered salvation to even those who crucified Him (Lk. 19:10). In behalf of those who cruelly mocked Him on the cursed cross (Matt. 27:39-43), He tenderly prayed, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Lk. 23:34).

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends (Jn. 15:13).

Yet, of Christ, the apostle declares:

For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.

For scarcely for a righteous men will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.

But God commandeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ dies for us (Rom. 5:6-8).

What wondrous love! O, for the strength to so walk!

This great precept is beautifully exemplified by saints who help compose “the great cloud of witnesses” (cf. Acts 7:54-60; 1 Cor. 4:12, 13). The Christian thus defeats his enemies by treating them as friends (Rom. 12:17-21). One cannot bless, do good to and pray for an enemy and still hate him.

Why should we love those who mistreat us?

That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publican so?

We should love our enemies that we might truly be the sons of God. Christ did not teach that loving one’s enemies is a condition of becoming His disciple. We are children of God by consequence of being born again (Jn. 3:3, 5; Gal. 3:26, 27). What, then, did he mean?

Hebrew is not rich in adjectives, and for that reason Hebrew often used son of . . . with an abstract noun, where we would use an adjective. For instance, a son of peace is a peaceful man; a son of consolation is a consoling man. So, then, a son of God is a godlike man (Barclay, Ibid, p. 175).

To love even one’s enemies is to truly be godlike in character, for, though “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23), nevertheless

God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life (Jn. 3:16).

Indeed, “He that loveth not knoweth not God, for God is love” (1 Jn. 4:8).

We all witness daily in the natural realm how God bestows physical blessings alike on both evil and good, just and unjust (cf. Psa. 145:9, 15, 16; Acts 14:16, 17). This is the result and proof of His divine love for all His creation. We should likewise practice love toward friend and foe alike. By so doing we demonstrate our godlike character (cf. Lk. 6:35, 36; Eph. 5:1, 2).

If we do not practice love toward our enemies, how can we expect God to reward us for our righteousness, for we would be evidencing no higher character than the publicans, the lowest of sinners to the Hebrews? Even the vilest of the unrighteous love their own friends! Is our morality not to exceed theirs?

Further, if we fail to manifest this higher love, we do no more than those in false and degrading religions. Even the Gentiles, who had corrupted the true worship of God into the grossest system of immorality and error, warmly greeted and graciously accepted their own friends! Is the righteousness of one walking in the steps of Jesus not to exceed that of an idol worshiper?

One can pursue any of three courses in his relationship to other people. He can render to others as they render to him – good for good and evil for evil. This is the standard of the world. One can render evil for good – the standard Satan employs. Or, one can do good in return for evil. This is what the Father does, and this is the godlike standard the Master sets for his disciples. Brother, which course do you follow?

Truth Magazine XXIV: 16, pp. 264-265
April 17, 1980

By Irvin Himmel

It was the time of year when kings were going forth to battle. Israel’s king elected to stay in Jerusalem and let his captain, Joab, lead the fight against the Ammonites. One evening King David walked leisurely on the roof of the palace where he could enjoy fresh air and look out over the city. He saw a very beautiful woman bathing herself. He inquired about her identity, sent for her, and made love to her. She conceived. She later sent word to the king that she was pregnant.

In a frantic manner, the king attempted to conceal his adultery with Bathsheba. Her husband, Uriah, was out on the battlefield serving under Joab. David sent for Uriah, questioned him as if he only wanted information about the war, then urged him to go home and spend the night with his wife. If her husband spent only a night or two at home, no one would suspect that Bathsheba had committed adultery when it became generally known that she was expecting. But Uriah had an extraordinary sense of loyalty to the war effort. He refused to spend the night at home when Joab and the other soldiers were sleeping in the open fields. David managed to get Uriah drunk, but the intoxicated warrior still refused to go home to his beautiful wife.

Unable to execute his first plot due to Uriah’s self-denial and firmness of resolution, David looked for another way to protect Bathsheba from exposure as an adulteress and to conceal his own guilt. It came into David’s mind that if Uriah were dead, Bathsheba could become a part of the king’s harem. (Plural marriages were permitted in those days, and David already had numerous wives and concubines.) So the king wrote a letter to Joab and had Uriah to deliver it. Naturally, the loyal soldier would not dare to unseal the king’s dispatch to the captain. The letter ordered Joab to put Uriah in the hottest part of the battle and pull back from him, leaving him to die at the hands of the enemy.

First, it was lust . . . then plans for an illicit relation . . . then the very act of adultery . . . then attempts at deception . . . finally murder was committed. At an earlier date, David acted heroically in the public slaying of Goliath, the great enemy of God’s people. Now the same David acts cowardly in the secret killing of Uriah, a patriotic warrior who showed remarkable zeal for his nation.

Just as soon as her period of mourning was past, the widow of Uriah became David’s wife. But the Lord sent Nathan the prophet to convict David of his guilt. Nathan used a little illustration that showed the king what a vile sinner he had become. He charged that David had (1) despised the commandment of the Lord, (2) killed Uriah with the sword, and (3) stolen Uriah’s wife (read 2 Sam. 11; 12).

David confessed, “I have sinned.” Out of the mercy of God, David was spared from the penalty of death that was punishment for adultery under the law of Moses. God graciously put away David’s sin. But sin left its ugly mark. David could not bring Uriah back to life. He could not prevent enemies from blaspheming. Some of the consequences of David’s sin could never be erased. This is the lesson I am stressing in this article.

The heavenly Father generously extends forgiveness to us now by the blood of Jesus. Through submission to Jesus Christ, we can be washed and made whiter than snow. But, in many cases, the ugly damage of sin leaves a mark that is permanent.

A man stops at a tavern on his way home from work. He is too intoxicated to drive when he gets under the steering wheel and pulls out into the heavy traffic. There is an awful collision. An innocent child is killed, her mother is paralyzed for the remainder of her life, and another occupant of the car loses a limb. Afterward, the man responsible for that terrible accident obeys the gospel. By the grace of God he is forgiven, but the mark of sin has been made. His being forgiven does not bring back the life that was snuffed out, nor does it restore health to a broken-hearted, paralyzed mother, nor does it restore a missing limb.

A preacher loses his temper and turns on the elders of the church in a rage. He is asked to leave. He stirs up controversy and makes a bid for the sympathy of the members of the congregation. Some side with the elders; others side with the preacher. A “new” congregation is formed at a different location. The church has divided. Eventually, the two groups try to patch things up; confessions of wrongs are made. There is no question that forgiveness can be obtained, but be sure of this one thing: sin has left its ugly mark in that community!

A mother divorces her husband and carries on a clandestine love affair. Her children suffer considerable neglect and abuse. They run away from home as soon as they find an opportunity. In later years she repents and is forgiven. There is no way that she can repair the damage done to her own offspring. Sin has left its ugly mark.

God’s forgiveness removes the guilt of sin, but the effects of sin cannot always be erased.

Truth Magazine XXIV: 16, p. 263
April 17, 1980

By Leslie Diestelkamp

God’s grace is constantly available to the child of God, so much so that he can have confidence and security in a continuing obedient faith. Of course the child of God can falter, he can stumble, he can fall from grace (Gal. 5:4). He can “make shipwreck of the faith” (1 Tim. 1:19). He can turn back to the ways of the world and of sin and/or he can become unfaithful and unfruitful in life. Additionally, he can depart from the faith into doctrinal error (Gal. 1:8).

But it is not necessary for the child of God to so falter, so stumble, so fall that he loses the favor of God. The title of this essay, when properly understood, suggests that I believe the child of God can have constant forgiveness and, therefore, a continuing, day-to-day salvation that will enable him to live in hope and assurance. This involves three major principles:

1. The Bible teaches that there are different kinds of sins. We have allowed the Catholic doctrine of mortal and venial sins to drive us from recognition and declaration of truth in this regard. Some say, “Every sin is alike”. But consider: (1) If we sin willfully . . .” (Heb. 10:26, 27); (2) “There is a sin unto death. . .” (1 Jn. 5:16). The next verse says “there is a sin not unto death.” (3) Surely all of us can see a difference in the sin of deceit in Ananias and Sapphira and the sin of dissimulation by Peter (Acts 5:1-11; Gal. 2:11-14). There are sins of ignorance, sins of weakness and sins of wilfulness. Ananias and his wife sinned deliberately. Peter stumbled in human weakness (for though he was a great man in the faith, he was also a very human man in weakness of the flesh).

2. Every sin we commit is charged against us, though every sin a child of God commits can be forgiven (1 Jn. 1:9). Sin on the part of a Christian is dreadful and dangerous, but such sin is not fatal, necessarily. The blood that cleansed us once, at baptism, is still the ransom price and altogether adequate for us (1 Jn. 1:7).

3. But forgiveness for the child of God is not automatic. It is conditional, just as any and all forgiveness from sin is conditional. To receive pardon the Christian must: (1) Forgive others (Mt. 6:12, 15); (2) Confess his sins (1 Jn. 1:9); (3) Repent of sins (Acts 8:22); (4) Pray for forgiveness (Mt. 6:12; Acts 8:22). Under these circumstances, God’s grace avails for the erring child of God.

When this particular essay is studied, one should also reread and study again a previous section in this series on “Grace is Not License.” It is certainly not my intent to suggest that one may live a life of dishonesty, immorality, disobedience and neglect and still go to heaven. But it is my purpose to show that, though we are all imperfect (1 Jn. 1:8), we can have hope and assurance that, by grace, we can be forgiven and have a constantly favorable relationship with God and a real promise of a heavenly home. I must continue to beg my brethren to be continually obedient but, at the same time, to put no trust in human merit. Let us live lives of humble subjectiveness, having hearts of contrite penitence. Let all human wisdom, all arrogance, all pride and all trust in personal merit be cast aside and let our confidence be in justification by grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus (Rom. 3:24).

Grace For Secret Sins

David said, “Cleanse thou me from secret faults” (Psa. 19; 12). David did not mean that God should cleanse him from faults he was trying to hide from others, but that he desired forgiveness of sins that were hidden from him (David). In other words, David recognized that he was guilty of sins which he could not identify – sins which he committed in ignorance – and that he needed forgiveness even though he could not specifically confess them. Any sincere Christian will surely feel just as David did. He knows that he lacks perfect discernment of the Word as well as perfect ability to apply that which he discerns. In humility, he will acknowledge that he is a sinner, even beyond the specific sins which he recognizes.

But do such unknown sins constitute a barrier between the Christian and the Heavenly Father? Must the Christian live a life of despair, lest he fail to know all the faults of which he must repent?

Rejoicing In Hope – (Rom. 12:12).

The Bible teaches that God’s people need hope as “an anchor of the soul” (Heb. 6:19). “Blessed is the man who trusteth in the Lord and whose hope the Lord is” (Jer. 17:7). “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy” (Psa. 33:18).

But, my brethren, hear me: if there is no forgiveness of incidental faults (sin, if you please) of which we are not aware and which we cannot, therefore, specifically confess, then there is not hope at all! We then are all hopeless, helpless and miserable creatures, destined to receive nothing but the vengeance of a God who made us incapable of perfection and then determined to destroy us without mercy! But John wrote, “These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life . . .” (1 Jn. 5:13). We can never have such confidence by human merit, but only as we “walk in the light” and trust in the grace of God.

Wherein Is That Hope?

When I speak of continuous (constant) grace, does this include constant forgiveness? I believe it does! But it is not automatic, it is conditional, thus: (1) The Christian must confess his sinfulness and repent of sins of which he is aware. (2) And he must have a humble, contrite, penitent attitude regarding his own inability to identify every sin. Is that not all one can do (provided he does not deliberately reject or neglect knowledge – Hos. 4:6)?

Perfection is impossible (1 Jn. 1:8) but forgiveness is available, by grace, even for unknown imperfections (1 Jn. 1:7). With a deep sense of unworthiness and with a full acknowledgement of imperfection, let us cry out, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” Then, with full assurance of God’s grace, and with genuine hope in Christ Jesus, let us look forward to the crown that is laid up for all the faithful (2 Tim. 4:8). We can have that “lively hope . . . . of an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled . . . reserved in heaven” for us (1 Pet. 1:3, 4), for Christ is the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him (Heb. 5:9). That, my friends, is salvation by grace – amazing grace. And that is the only salvation there is – salvation by grace, through an obedient faith.

Truth Magazine XXIV: 16, pp. 261-262
April 17, 1980

By Mike Willis

Recently I visited a couple who had quit attending worship services. Problems at home had overwhelmed them. In this particular case, problems generally had that effect on them. When things in their life seemed bright and cheery, they were present at the worship services; however, when the clouds of life appeared on the horizon, the infrequency of worship was in direct proportion to the ominous nature of the clouds. Theirs is not a unique case.

There are a good many saints who decide to quit worshiping God when problems face them in life. Some blame God for their problems; others place blame on everybody except themselves. They think that the elders, deacons, preachers, and other faithful saints have never experienced problems as great as theirs. Consequently, no one can understand their problems or sympathize with them; most importantly, no one should condemn them for not worshiping regularly because they do not know how bad life is for them. I have heard this story enough times to know that this attitude toward life’s problems affects a good many of us.

Studying the lives of some of God’s great saints is extremely helpful in learning how to cope with life’s problems. One such example of that is the manner in which David handled his problems. On one occasion, he wrote,

Hear my cry, O God;

Attend unto my prayer.

From the end of the earth will I cry unto Thee, when my heart is overwhelmed:

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

For thou hast been a shelter for me,

And a strong tower from the enemy.

I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever:

I will trust in the covert of thy wings. Selah (Psa. 61:1-4).

What a difference in David’s attitude and that of those who, in the face of troubles, decide to quit worshiping God.

David’s Problem

This psalm does not explicitly relate what particular problem David was facing. He faced many during his lifetime, most of which were greater than any I have faced. The problem was bad enough that he called his prayer to God a “cry” to God. He offered his prayer “from the end of the earth.”

In trying to learn the physical circumstances from which David cried to God, a good bit of attention has been given to the phrase “from the end of the earth.”

We know that the center of the affections and devotions of the pious Israelite was the “holy city, Jerusalem; whither the tribes went up, even the tribes of the Lord, to testify unto Israel, and to give thanks unto the name of the Lord.” The country of which this city was the capital, was to the Jew the world; it was the world within the world; the earth within the earth; the whole globe beside was to him a waste, a place out of the world; an extraterrestrial territory, beyond the limits set up by the Lord Almighty. This in Holy Writ what is called the world, or the earth, frequently signifieth only that part thereof which was the heritage of the chosen people . . . . “The end of the earth,” then, as referred to the psalmist, would signify any place of bodily absence from the temple where the Deity had taken up his special abode, or any place whence his spiritual affections were unable to reach that temple (Alfred Bowen Evans as quoted by C.H. Spurgeon, Treasury q/’David, Vol. 111, p. 108).

Assuming that Evans is correct in understanding “the end of the earth” to removal from the location of the Tabernacle, this psalm was probably written during the period of Absalom’s rebellion; however, it could also be referring to any of the period when David was hounded by Saul.

Whichever it might refer to, David surely faced problems as great as or greater than those faced by most of us. Frankly, I have never had anyone chasing me to kill me; I have never been forcefully removed from the assembly of God’s people. As a matter of fact, when compared to the lives of Job and David, my life has been relatively free from problems; most of us would have to say the same in comparison to these two persevering saints.

David’s Method of Handling Problems

The particular thing of interest to the saints of God should be what is the correct manner to handle one’s problems in life. There are times when a person gets into a situation which he can only endure. Some of us are running to psychiatrists for pills to enable us to cope with life’s problems. That is not the way David handled his problems; here is how he handled them:

1. He prayed to God. His heart was overwhelmed (Psa. 61:2). He cried to God. The Father in heaven has a heart and is open toward his children. Like our earthly fathers, He is touched by our tears. Describing Jesus’ agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, the writer of Hebrews said, “. . .who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared” (Heb. 5:7).

Though we sometimes do not think about it, tribulations sometimes drive us to God. They draw us closer to God. Faith’s greatest triumphs are achieved in her heaviest trials. Consequently, James wrote, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing” (1:2-4). Pouring out of our heart’s desires to God is pleasing to God. The person who understands the nature of God should realize that there is more to be gained in laying his problems on God than in taking some kind of pill to numb us!

2. David expected help from God. He cried to God because he had found that, in the past, “thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy” (Psa. 61:3). Perhaps your experiences in faith have been so limited that you cannot say that you have personally found God to be a shelter and a strong tower in the past. If so, please consider how God has helped His people in the past. God was with David on repeated occasions, delivering him from a lion and a bear, from Goliath the Philistine, from Saul’s spear and his army, from the Philistine king Achish, and from others. Hence, when David faced this new trial, he would turn to Him who had delivered him in the past.

God delivered Daniel from the lion’s den, the three Hebrew children from the fiery furnace, Hezekiah from the invasion of Sennacherib, Peter from Herod’s attempt to kill him, and He can deliver us from our problems. There is no problem so great that God cannot deliver me from it. If He could deliver Jonah from the belly of the great fish, He can deliver me from any of my problems.

Sometimes, however, God does not deliver us from our problems. In such cases, God gives us the strength to endure them. When Paul prayed to God for help in removing his “thorn in the flesh,” the Lord replies, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). Consequently, Paul wrote, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong” (2 Cor. 12:9-10). Frankly, I have more admiration for this approach to life’s problems than that offered by pagan sources.

David’s Concept of God

1. The rock that is higher than I. The comparison of God to a Rock which is higher than the author is probably to be taken from the manner in which a high rock stands out of in rising tides. As David saw himself sinking in the problems of life, he called for help from God who was the Rock that is higher than himself. Help must not be a mere rock; it had to be a rock higher than himself. For the king of Israel to refer to help from someone higher than himself, he can only be referring to Deity. “The rock that is higher than he, must be higher than any man; for David was a mighty monarch” (Ibid., p. 110). David, therefore, looked upon his God as a rock which could save him from any tide of troubles which tended to engulf him.

2. The shelter. David said, “Thou hast been a shelter for me.” God was the shelter from the storms of life. Whenever a man is caught in a storm, he looks for a shelter; when David was caught in the storms of life, he fled to his God as a shelter to protect him from the storm.

3. A strong tower. He added that his God was “a strong tower from the enemy.” David had seen his God protect him from his enemies so frequently that he compared Him to a strong tower built around a wall of a city. A strong tower was a place of great protection from which soldiers could drive invading troops from the wall of the city. God was David’s strong tower; He protected him from the enemy.

David’s Trust In God

Because of the these concepts toward God, David said, “I will trust in the covert of thy wings” (Psa. 61:4). Even as baby chicks flee to the hen with her wings spread out for protection, so David fled to the cover of God’s wings for .help in time of trouble. Faith in God involves this trusting relationship with God: one does not trust God only in times of peace and prosperity; he especially trusts Him in bad times. One might be inclined to think that he could conduct his own affairs in periods of peace and prosperity; however, even the most foolish of us recognize his need for divine grace during trials.

The man who never walks with God through good times will not likely find the strength he needs from God in troublesome times. The troublesome times test a relationship at best. We need to walk with God day by day in order to find the strength to make it through difficult periods of our life.

We still sing this psalm of David regarding our need to learn to trust in God. Our modern songwriters have written it as follows:

O, sometimes the shadows are deep,

And rough seems the path to the goal;

And sorrows, sometimes how they sweep

Like tempests down over the soul.

O, sometimes how long seems the day,

And sometimes how weary my feet;

But toiling in life’s dusty way,

The Rock’s blessed shadow, how sweet!

O, near to the rock let me keep,

If blessings or sorrows prevail;

Or climbing the mountain way steep,

Or walking the shadowy vale.

O, then, to the Rock let me fly,

To the Rock that is higher than I;

O, then, to the Rock let me fly,

To the Rock that is higher than I.

– Wm. G. Fischer

Let us grow in faith to practice that about which we sing!

Let us find our strength to endure the storm in God. The relatively little which other sources can give should drive us to God. Only through faith in God can we look forward to the future. Present times look ominous at best. Rather than worrying about what the future holds, let us flee to Him who holds the future!

Truth Magazine XXIV: 16, pp. 259-261
April 17, 1980