Psalm 130 * March 1, 2009 * Lent 1 * Pastor Pagels
In the name of Christ Jesus, dear friends:
Where is the lowest place on earth? Some people might point to the Dead Sea which
forms the border between
Others may suggest that you travel south and west from there
to
From your grade school or high school geography days, you
might remember learning about the Mariana Trench near the
The lowest place on earth isn’t really a place at all. It’s a state of being. It is the feeling that comes over people when they come to the realization that something has separated them from God. The man who wrote Psalm 130 knew what that felt like. Martin Luther knew what that felt like.
Do you? Do you understand that God doesn’t ask you to try to be a good person, but instead demands that you be a perfect person? Do you understand what James means when he says that whoever keeps the whole law but stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it (2:10)? Do you understand that Paul leaves no room for exceptions when he declares that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23)?
If you can see how pervasive your sin is, if you can see how perverse your sin is, if you have connected the scriptural dots and understand that you deserve to suffer eternally because of your sins, then and only then have you reached the lowest point on earth. You have arrived at “the depths of woe.”
But you don’t have to stay there. There is a way up. There is a way out. There is hope. Martin Luther expressed that hope beautifully in the hymn we just sang. That hymn is based on the inspired words of Psalm 130. That hymn begins with a prayer, a prayer that begins with repentance and ends with confidence: That prayer is our prayer today. We pray: Lord…
FROM DEPTHS OF WOE I CRY TO YOU
Verse One: From
depths of woe I cry to you; Lord, hear me, I implore you.
Sin was Martin Luther’s business. Not just because he was a priest. Not because he was supposed to know all the Bible passages about sin. Not because he was supposed to preach against sin. Instead of being an important part of Luther’s profession, sin had become for him a never ending obsession.
He tried as hard as he could to stop sinning, but he couldn’t. He beat himself up, literally and figuratively, over his sin, but nothing he did could get rid of it. It was always there, accusing him, torturing him, condemning him.
That’s not just one person's opinion about Martin Luther. Listen to what he had to say about his personal struggle (in words taken from another of his famous hymns): “Fast bound in Satan’s chains I lay; death brooded darkly o’er me. Sin was my torment night and day; In sin my mother bore me. Yet deep and deeper still I fell; Life had become a living hell; So firmly sin possessed me (CW 377:2).
Sin was draped around Luther's neck like a heavy chain. He carried it with him wherever he went. And Luther’s sin didn't merely consist of all the bad things he had done (which would have been bad enough). Sin was who he was (notice the phrase: "'If you...held against me what I've been").
It was this man who asked himself: "If a holy, sin-hating God holds all my sins against me, if the all-knowing, all seeing Lord keeps a record of every sin I have ever committed, how will I stand before him when my record comes up for review on Judgment Day?" That was a rhetorical question, but Luther chose to answer it anyway so that no one would come to the wrong conclusion.
Verse Two: Your love and grace alone avail To blot out my transgression. The best and holiest deeds must fail To break sin's dread oppression. Before you none can boasting stand, But all must fear your strict command And live alone by mercy.
"The best and holiest deeds must fail." Those words come right in the middle of the
verse. It's easy to sing right past them
without thinking about what they mean.
And even if I do go back and read those words again, it isn't too
difficult for me to accept them on an intellectual level. In my mind I might even connect Luther's
lyrics with Bible passages that make the same claim, like when Isaiah says that
"all our righteous acts are like
filthy rags" (64:6).
But do you really grasp what Isaiah is saying? Do you get what Luther is saying about himself in this hymn? Do you realize that what he says about himself he is also saying about you? Your deeds aren't the problem. You are. It's not enough for you to admit that your deeds have failed. You have to take the next step. You have to swallow your pride and say: “I am a failure.”
I don't know about you, but I don't want to admit that. I would rather believe that all the good things I do have a way of balancing out the bad. I would rather come up with a list of people I know who are worse than me because that will make me feel a little better about myself. If I can compare myself with other people, then at least I have a chance. If a sinner like me has to compare himself with a sinless God, then I have no chance. Then I have no hope. Or do I?
You've probably heard someone say something to the effect that a person can't recover from an addiction and get back on his feet until he has hit rock bottom. The same idea can be applied to the sinner's relationship with God. When we give up trying to make excuses for our sins, when we give up any hope of saving ourselves from our sins, when the weight of our sin pushes us down farther and farther until we reach the darkest depths of woe, it is at that moment when our merciful Lord lifts us up and gives us hope.
Verse Three: Therefore
my hope is in the Lord And not in my own merit; It rests upon his faithful Word
To them of contrite spirit. That he is
merciful and just--This is my comfort and my trust. His help I wait with patience.
Martin Luther's hope rested on two things that are really two different ways of saying the same thing. He put his trust in God and God's Word. The Word that describes God's hatred of sin also describes God's love for sinners. In one breath God’s Word threatens: "The wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23a), but in the next breath that same Word promises, "but the gift of God is eternal life (Romans 6:23b). The Lord is just and punishes sin. The Lord is merciful and forgives sin. It is a paradox. It is a mystery, a divine mystery that can only be solved at the cross.
The Word says that the Word became flesh (John 1). The Son of God was born to a woman, to live a perfect life on this earth, to die a sacrificial death on the cross, to rise triumphant from the grave, to assure the penitent: "Your sins are forgiven," to give us comfort in this life, to give us the hope of eternal life.
But we aren't there yet, are we? The sure and certain hope of every Christian is that one day Jesus will come back, and when he does he will take us to live with him. Who knows? That day could be today or tomorrow or next week or next month or next year. In the meantime we wait.
Verse Four: My soul
is waiting for the Lord As one who longs for morning; No watcher waits with
greater hope Than I for his returning. I
hope as
This illustration has lost some of its meaning through the ages. In our modern world where surveillance cameras are all over the place, at a time when the moon and stars aren't the most important sources of night light anymore, it is more difficult to appreciate the importance of the watchman.
The ancient watchman stayed awake while the rest of the city slept. He was on high alert for a surprise enemy attack. He stared at the darkness, looking for the slightest movement in the shadows. He stood at his post until the sun finally peaked over the horizon. Morning meant that his work was over. Morning meant that the city was safe.
As much as the watchman longed for the light of morning to
come, believers long for something even more.
We long for the return of God's Son.
We long for the day when Jesus will say to us: "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance,
the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world" (Matthew
25:34).
We long for the day when we are given our white robes, when we are seated at the heavenly banquet, when our Redeemer will escort us to the special places he has prepared for us in heaven. No one knows when that day will be, but we have our Savior's promise that he is coming soon (Revelation 22:20).
When Martin Luther and his colleagues prepared to defend their teachings at the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, they were under tremendous pressure. The Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (one of the most powerful men in the world at that time) wanted unity in the empire. He wanted the "Lutherans" to give up their cause and get back in line…or else.
With the truth of God's Word at stake, with his life on the line, with the devil working day and night to convince him to give up the fight, what did Martin Luther do? He encouraged his brothers to join him in a hymn. Not “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” Not “Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word” or any of the other hymns he had written.
Instead Luther said: “Come, let us, despite the devil, sing 'Aus tiefer Not' and thereby praise and glorify God!” If you don't know any German, there is a good chance that you will recognize the title in English: “From Depths of Woe (I Cry To You).”
Martin Luther got it, and by the grace of God so do we. Apart from God, life is hopeless. If we try to find our way in this world without God, we will end up in a bottomless pit of despair. But because of God's mercy, there is a way up. Because of God’s Son, there is a way out. Because of Jesus, we have hope. Amen.