A Sermon On Psalm 91

Preached September 30, 2001

By Donald M. Tuttle

First Christian Church, Corpus Christi, Texas

I want to read to you a quote this morning—one that I found just this week.

The modern world has given itself to the pursuit of security. [People] and nations have tried to provide for every stage of life and to remove the causes of fear. They have failed. They get wealth, and money loses value. They invent colossal weapons of defense, and find their cities are destroyed overnight. They discover new medicines and progress in surgical skill, and are defeated by the increasing number of the diseases of civilization. No victory in the field, no success at polling booths, no ingenuity in technique can save the world.

From where did this quote come? A newspaper columnist reflecting on the events of the last two weeks? A college professor looking at history? A politician laying a foundation for more expenditures?

None of the above. It was written more than 45 years ago by contributors to The Interpreter’s Bible, a commentary on Scripture.

Although it is nearly a half-century old, it still rings true. In recent years we have tried more than ever to pursue security. We have tried harder and harder to make sure that every person at every stage of life was protected. We strived to remove fear from the equation of our lives. But we failed.

We rode an economic boom, but now we fear recession.

We ruled the world with a military second to none and the world’s largest nuclear arsenal; yet we saw the World Trade Center destroyed by men with crude knives, box cutters and a willingness to die.

We made progress against diseases that once guaranteed death; yet AIDS and Ebola ravage nations.

We liked to think that we were making progress, that we were eradicating fear from our lives, and yet we know it is not so. Even if we dismissed the fears raised by the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, there are others to take their place.

--Like most of the nation, they watched the news reports following the shooting at Columbine High School. Although they lived far away and knew their daughter’s school was safe, the images that they had seen seared their minds. And each day in the years since, when she left for school, fear gripped them until she walked through the door that night.

--He had endured several months of pain in his back. It would sometimes be light, other times severe enough to keep him from sleep. But for the longest time he wouldn’t go to a doctor. He was afraid of the unknown, of what the doctor might find.

--She had endured the news that she had cancer. He had survived the radiation, the surgery, and the chemotherapy. But in a poem about her experience, she confessed that at night she couldn’t close her eyes for fear that death would overtake her.

There are hundreds of other fears that haunt us—the fear of failure, the fear of being alone, the fear of being "found out," the fear of running out of money, the fear of what will become of our children, the fear of what will become of us. Fear shapes our lives more than we want to admit.

Yet the antidote to fear is not security. The antidote to fear is faith. As one writer put it, "what is needed is an adequate faith, an assurance that through the chances and changes of life there is a divine protector in whose wisdom and grace we may find peace." What is needed is an understanding that no matter what might befall us, we can trust God.

That is the point of the Psalm that we have both heard read and sung. The Psalmist knew dangers existed. He even names them. There are human ones—the snare of the fowler, the arrow that flies by day, the ravages of war. There are natural ones—deadly pestilence, the lion and the adder. There is even the hint of what we would call supernatural or demonic dangers—the terror of the night and the pestilence that stalks people in darkness. He knew that people—even the most faithful people—suffered and died from these realities. Yet despite knowing that life is fragile and uncertain, the Psalmist spoke with confidence in the future. He spoke of life lived without fear because he knew that God could be trusted absolutely. His faith was in the one who promised:

Those who love me, I will deliver.

I will protect those who know my name.

When they call to me, I will answer them;

I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue them and honor them.

With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation.

His faith was stronger than his fears.

The Psalmist testifies to the same kind of confidence in God that we see in Jesus Christ. There is for me no more important point in the life of Jesus than that night in Gethsemane. He knew that Judas had gone to betray him. He knew that soon a mob would come and arrest him. He knew that soon the worst possible end would be written to his life. And he was afraid. He asked God to remove the cup of suffering, disgrace and death from him. But more than fear, Jesus had faith. He trusted God, praying "but not my will, God, but your will be done." His faith was stronger than his fears and his faith was vindicated in the resurrection.

Throughout Scripture we see people testifying to the power of faith over fear.

--Abraham and Sarah feared life without children but in faith became the parents of a great nation.

--Moses didn’t want to go back to Egypt. He’d fled there a murderer, fearful that he would be found out and killed. Yet in faith he returned to confront Pharaoh and set God’s people free.

--The prophets feared for their lives but in faith spoke an often-harsh word to God’s people.

--In fear, Peter denied Christ three times, but in faith left the upper room on Pentecost and proclaimed forgiveness in Jesus’ name.

--Paul feared the challenges the followers of Jesus were posing to Judaism, but ultimately, in faith, he broke down some of the walls he had once sought to build.

The list goes on and on—Martin Luther, John Calvin, the Anabaptists, Dietrich Bonhoffer, Martin Luther King, Archbishop Romero, Nelson Mandela, Bishop Tutu—all knew fear, all had reason to fear, but their faith overcame their fears.

I have to tell you, that type of faith is often hard to come by. Fear is so real, so immediate, and faith is so nebulous, so uncertain, that we can struggle to find it. But it can be found. And it can be found in the constant presence of God.

The author of the Psalm knew that. Notice the word he uses—"those who live in the shelter in the Most High." I like the way the anthem put it: "You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord." Either way, it means those who abide with God, who spend time in God’s presence.

The faith that overcomes fear does not come from fugitive visits to church or prayers uttered in the face of crisis. It comes as we seek day by day, week by week, to be in God’s presence, to worship and prayer, read and service. It comes by dwelling with God. Then and only then, can we find that assurance that in the "chances and changes of life there is a divine protector in whose wisdom and grace we may find peace."