I want to make just a few comments this week, as last week’s penitential psalm was lengthy. Some of the sentiments of the psalmist are so similar to previous penitential psalms, that we will only briefly consider them, and focus, instead, on a couple of very significant aspects of this psalm. The fragility of life comes through Psalm 102 against the backdrop of God’s unchanging character and great worthiness. Whatever the affliction the psalmist is facing, you can’t help but notice that his overarching desire is that the Lord’s character and reputation be rightly extolled. And, he is hurting! His physical and emotional condition is desperate. He feels the shortness and frailty of life.
Notice, if you will, the loneliness of sin. While his days “pass away like smoke,” he finds himself abandoned. The imagery of the desert owl is very telling – a foul that flies alone, hunts alone, in the cloak of night. Sin has a way of leaving us lonely. To be sure, sin promises that we will belong, fit in, be a part of the crowd. Even the Bible acknowledges that sin is pleasurable, but those “pleasures” are fleeting (Heb 11:25).
In this place of heart-anguish, the psalmist looks upward and clings to his God “enthroned forever” (102:12). He wants all to know how great his God is. Can you imagine being in a position where your sin has destroyed your life, God as withdrawn his gracious countenance for a season, you are in mental and physical duress, even your friends have left you because of the sin in your life, and still you desire one thing – the Lord’s fame (v. 12-16, 18-22). What the psalmist needs more than anything is God’s grace. He is destitute. Yet, he preaches God’s grace for sinners (v. 17).
Even in the depths of his remorse, he knows that this God whom he has offended is his God (v. 24). “My God,” he says. Have you caved in to temptation and sin to the point that it is beginning to define you? When you are most heavily under conviction, do you find it difficult to believe that God is your God? An old Puritan, named George Swinnock (1627-73) wrote so beautifully:
Luther saith, ‘Much religion lieth in pronouns.’ All our consolation, indeed, consisteth in this pronoun. It is the cup which holdeth all our cordial waters. I will undertake as bad as the devil is, he shall give the whole world, were it in his power, more freely than ever he offered it to Christ for his worship, for leave from God to pronounce those two words MY GOD. All the joys of the believer are hung upon this one string; break that asunder and all is lost. I have sometimes thought how David rolls it as a lump of sugar under his tongue, as one loath to lose its sweetness too soon: ‘I will love thee, O LORD, my strength, my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower,’ Ps. XVIII. 1, 2. This pronoun is the door at which the King of saints entereth into our hearts, with his whole train of delights and comforts.
What is most impressive in this psalm, the thing that we must cling to when our sin gets the better of us, and it does get the better of us, from time to time, is that, while we change like the wind, depending on the latest temptation that comes along, God remains the same. Theologians speak of God’s immutability. Another way of saying this is God’s unchangeability. This does not mean that God is static, but rather his character does not change. Perhaps, the greatest Systematic Theology ever written was Herman Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics. I have a great pencil etching of Bavinck hanging in my study. Diane hopes I never get serious about my threats to hang in squarely in our living room. Bavinks speaks of God’s immutability by saying that God is, “Unchangeable in his existence and being, he is also in his thought and will, in all his plans and decisions.” If you think about it, if God were to change for the better, this presupposes a time in which he was worse than he is now. If he should change for the worse, this means there was a time in which he was better than he is now. In either case, he cannot be truly God.
This is deep theology. But, this is more than the stuff of theology exams in seminaries. Our psalm calls upon us to take refuge in this truth when our sin is destroying our lives, and showing just how fickle, foolish, and frail we are. God’s immutability is not far from our hearts. Do we not sing with great hope and comfort, “Thou changest not, thy compassions, they fail not. As thou hast been, thou forever shalt be. Great is thy faithfulness!”
In one of the most beautiful flourishes of praise to God’s character, Psalm 102:25-27 says, “Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end” (ESV). This is good news for penitential sinners. We make promises, “God, I promise I will never to that again.” Foolishly, we do it again, and again, and again. God promises mercy, grace, forgiveness, acceptance, and he delivers… every time. Because he is immutable, so is his covenant. The psalmist knows this, and can write what he does in Ps 102.
So, are you ashamed of your sin? Are you frustrated with your inconsistency? Are you, perhaps, even hesitant to pray about it anymore because you know your weak flesh? In your struggle with sin, ponder not just the reality of the cross of Christ and what he accomplished there. Meditate upon the unchangeable character of your God, who makes our salvation steadfast and sure. Paul writes to his young son-in-the-faith, Timothy, “if we are faithless, he remains faithful – for he cannot deny himself” (ESV). Say, “Lord, I have broken my promise to you. Forgive me, and let me know that your committed love to me will never change.”