In a recent poll, 90% of American adults agreed that we are currently as a nation in a mental health crisis. 90%! I didn’t think it was possible to get 90% of Americans to agree on anything, but 90% of Americans agreed on this: that we have a big problem with mental health. We see it with the increase of drug use, suicide, and significantly increased levels of reported anxiety and hopelessness, especially among teens.

And of course, the question everyone is asking is “Why?” Is it an economic situation, due to financial insecurity? Is it a byproduct of our extreme political polarization? Could it be caused by the use of smartphones and social media? 

Perhaps all of the above. But I’d like to add another possibility. Could part of our hopelessness and anxiety and escapism be the result of the simple fact that we don’t know where we’re going? 

For life to have meaning, we need a sense of direction, of purpose—life has to be about something. To live well, we need the hope that there is something good, something better that we are moving toward. For society to function well, we need to have a shared sense of that, some project, some shared purpose that we all participate in.

I don’t think we have that right now—do you? We don’t know where we’re going, or more to the point, where we should go. Have you noticed how so much of the social commentary is an attack: this is wrong, this person is a hypocrite, and so little of what is spoken holds up any sort of ideals or vision of the future? We don’t know where we’re going. Or think even in our art, our movies, we’ve just started repeating ourselves with sequels, reboots, tired franchises—there’s very little that’s fresh and even less that is hopeful. Because we don’t know where we’re going.

And we need that. Without a sense of purpose; without a sense that life is about something and that we’re moving to something, well, it’s no wonder that we’re in an age of anxiety and despair. 

It’s striking to me how God in the Old Testament specifically addressed this particular need. In his Law he gives his people a practice to form them, to instill in them a sense of purpose. He teaches them where they were going—how? By giving them a journey.

3 times a year God’s people were called to make a pilgrimage. From all over Israel people would set out together and join others along the way. And they would all be setting out for the same place: the city of Jerusalem. But, and this is important, in their imaginations, it wasn’t just to Jerusalem they were going. In their songs and in how they spoke, they were heading to Zion.

See, Jerusalem is just a city—a great city in the eyes of Israel, but still a city, like Chicago. But Zion is something more. Zion is a symbol. An ideal. Zion represents a vision of something that did not yet fully exist, but something God promised one day would be. The vision of Zion is of a beautiful city where all is as it should be. A city where God lives among his people, and all know him and enjoy fellowship with him. A city of justice and peace, without crime, where children play safely in the streets and no door needs to be locked and neighbors enjoy dinners together. A city of prosperity and security, free from fear and full of joy. 

Zion, in other words, was a picture of where God has promised that he is taking this world.  This world is broken by our sin, but God is not content to leave it to our failure. He has committed himself to making things right, to take what has become broken and make it whole—to take, if you will, the slums and graffiti and crime in our community and make it beautiful. He is making all things right. We might speak of God’s plan of redemption as “Project Zion.”

And every year, he told the people of Israel to set out from their different villages to make a journey to Zion. And this repeated practice would instill in them a simple truth: this is where we’re going. We’re going to Zion, not just literally in the moment; in human history: this world is being brought toward a greater, God-given future, a beautiful city. And everyone who belongs to God’s people are meant to be a part of it. Our lives are meant to be spent in moving us toward this future, participating with God. Our lives are part of project Zion. 

Now an important part of these repeated pilgrimages was that as God’s people journeyed together up the mountain to the city, they sang. They sang what are in the book of Psalms as the Songs of Ascent, given by God for this journey. The point was to give these pilgrims a better sense of why they were marching and where they were going: of what this all means. Songs of Ascent were given to help people understand what their life was really about.

Now, while God’s people are no longer instructed to make repeated pilgrimages to a city, what is abundantly clear in the Bible is that “Project Zion” remains. This is still where our world is going, and God still intends us to be a part of it. Hebrews speaks of how through the death and resurrection of Jesus, God has now decisively prepared for us a “better city,” a “city of the living God,” Zion. Hebrews calls people to walk in faith; to strengthen their weak legs, find a path for our feet so that we can engage in this journey. Life’s purpose is for you, whoever we are, whether up until this point you identified yourself as a Christian or not, to join with Jesus and move toward Zion. That’s where we’re going.

And so we too can learn to sing these songs. That’s what I’d like to do over these next three weeks. These Psalms of Ascent are divided into 5 sets of three, where each set goes through the three same movements. They begin with a sense that something is wrong, a problem, a need to leave. So, for example, Psalm 120: “I have lived too long in a place without peace.” And then in the second movement, the focus turns on the pathway, on how to journey. So, Psalm 121, “I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from?” And finally the third movement focuses on the purpose, the destination—on Zion. Psalm 122: “Let’s go to the house of the Lord!” They are meant to orient us and give us a sense of direction: this is the problem we face, this is how we are to journey, and this is where we’re going. Problem, pathway, purpose. 

I’d like to spend the next three weeks reflecting on one of these triads. We’ll look at Psalm 131, considering our purpose, a sense of where we are going with Zion. Before that, next week with Psalm 130, we’ll consider the pathway: what it means that we’re moving toward Zion and how we do this. But this morning, with our remaining time, we’ll look at Psalm 129’s depiction of the problem and how we are to respond to it. Together, I hope that we gain a better sense of the journey we’re on and the purpose we have in Christ.

Enemy

What we are meant to understand as we sing Psalm 129 is that on our journey, there is an obstacle, an enemy. And this enemy passionately opposes Project Zion.

Have you ever wondered why it is that we can never seem to get things right? Throughout the many thousands of years of recorded human history, there have been countless different attempts by all sorts of nations to form a society where people are treated justly, where there is stability and everyone is able to flourish, and we’ve never gotten it right. Every society always has an ugly side: glorious ancient nations would be ruthless to other nationalities; Rome was built on the backs of slaves; in our nation today we know all sorts of problems, whether it’s the fact that some are experiencing deep poverty, the enormous drug problem, the deep division politically. We’ve had thousands of years; we’ve made amazing technological and medical breakthroughs. Yet we still aren’t able to establish a truly healthy human society that lasts. Why is that?

It’s clear that the problem isn’t just a lack of education; too many smart people do bad things. The problem also isn’t just economic—as if everyone had enough, it would all be okay. And the problem isn’t that we just need the right leader in office. There’s something deeper that’s wrong with how the world is. Our Psalm tells us. There is an enemy who has set itself in opposition to God’s great work of establishing Zion.

Verse 1 jumps right in: “Since my youth they have often attacked me.” 

“Me” here is not just an individual who has been persecuted—the next line tells us that me is bigger than that: “Let Israel say.” This is the song of God’s people. “From our youth, from the time when God made us into a nation began, they have attacked us again and again.” 

So who are “they?” Verse 4 names them simply as: “The wicked.” They are people of evil intent. And, more specifically, they are those who, as verse 5 says, “Hate Zion.” 

The marching song begins with this: There is an enemy of evil intent who has always been against us from our youth. This enemy keeps attacking us, seeking to stop God from making things right. This enemy opposes Project Zion.

Specifically, this evil force works to oppose and at the same time take advantage of God’s people. “They have attacked me,” Israel sings. “And they have plowed over my back.” It’s a fairly gruesome image of a people lying prostrate while the enemy with a plow rips ridges in their backs, “Long gashes cut into the skin and flesh, back and forth, systematically, like a farmer working a field.” It’s an image of slavery—imagine the stripes from the whips—it’s a picture of exploitation. It’s how evil works in this world; it seeks the good things of God while rejecting God himself.

Undoubtedly when Israel sings the words, “From my youth,” they remembered the story Egypt. The time when they lived in this foreign land and were blessed by God with many children. In fulfillment of his promise and as part of his redemptive work, God was making Israel into a great nation. And Pharaoh, the leader of Egypt, doesn’t say, “Well, this is beautiful, look at what God is doing. I love project Zion!” No, deep down he says, “This is frightening.” Because you see, at its heart, wickedness is always threatened by the gracious rule of God. Evil wants to keep control, and so it hates Zion. When Pharoah sees this work of God in the growth of Israel, he seeks to oppose it.

And yet he doesn’t just send Israel away from their land. This would be the simplest solution. Even as Pharoah sees the threat, he also sees something good that he would like to benefit from: all of these people have the potential to bring great profit. So what does he do? He attacks God’s people and he also uses them by making them slaves. Because evil seeks to take advantage of the good things God is doing without acknowledging God.

While there are many other Old Testament examples of this same dynamic, let’s fast forward many centuries to the time in human history when Jesus walked among us. Jesus, God’s full and complete agent who came to establish Zion. What do we see? As Jesus comes proclaiming the coming of his kingdom, he offers signs of the work that God is doing through him. Restoring sight to the blind, wholeness to those whose bodies have withered, miraculous food to the hungry, even life to the dead. And the crowds eat that up—they want to take advantage of all the benefits Jesus might bring. And yet they want it without the actual rule of Jesus; they want these good things without God’s kingdom, without project Zion. And so eventually they reject Jesus and crucify him. 

See, this is how evil works: it seeks to take advantage of the good things of God without acknowledging God, which means it keeps the world broken. I’m not just talking about something that was true of the past. If we look around us, it’s not hard to see signs of this happening. 

• Do you know that Harvard University was originally established as a place to train pastors in order to keep churches healthy in Massachusetts? Its original motto was “Truth for Christ and the Church.” But over time we see society saying, “We love the education that you’re bringing, but let’s remove the Christ and Church part.” 

• Or consider all the hospitals with religious names: Christ Hospital in Oak Lawn, or what used to be Rush Presbyterian Hospital: these were built by followers of Jesus seeking like Jesus to show the healing love of God. And over time society said, “We love the healing, but let’s remove the religious focus.” 

• Think even of the modern concept of human rights. Historians agree that this idea that every person should be treated with dignity comes from the Christian understanding that each of us belong to God and are in his image. And over time society has said, we like the rights part, but let’s remove the idea of belonging to God, shall we?

To be clear, this change wasn’t conscious. It wasn’t malicious, but underneath we see this is how evil works. It works through society to oppose the work God is doing, even as it takes advantage of this. 

So what’s the point of singing about this? Remember, this is a song that the people sing together as they march to Zion. In fact the one command in this Psalm is that this is what the people of God should say, “Let Israel say this.” Why? 

Because when you set out on a journey, it’s good to understand in advance the difficulties you will face. And, more importantly, it’s good to ready yourself for things that will be hard. And that’s what this song is doing. If you listen, you’ll notice: this is a song of resistance. 

Again, consider the opening verses: “Let Israel say since my youth they have often attacked me.” By singing this song, we’re not going to pretend that things are fine. We’re going to speak openly that there is a real problem, a real enemy who never wants us to get to Zion. “Since my youth they have often attacked me. But,” and here’s where we see an almost audacious resilience: they have not prevailed against me.” “Sure, plowmen plowed over my back, and it was painful. But the Lord is righteous and has cut the ropes of the wicked.” 

Do you hear it? It’s a fight song: the enemy wants to stop us and exploit us, but we will not let the enemy win and make us its slaves. It will not prevail. We will not stop marching, because God is righteous and he won’t let evil win. You hear it in the following verses, “Let the haters of Zion be thwarted and put to shame. If they’re going to plow on our backs, well, let what springs up be useless to them.” It’s a song of passionate, inextinguishable defiance of the enemy and commitment to the journey. A song of resistance.

Can you imagine as they walked and sang, how loud it might have gotten, how determined it would have made God’s people. And that’s the point. As we journey together we sing this to develop a steel will, to learn to be a people of resistance. Evil wants to thwart us, and keep us from moving toward Zion. The enemy wants to use us, to take things from us and give us nothing in return. But, we sing, “That’s not going to happen. Because God is on our side.” We will resist. 

What does this resistance look like? Sometimes it’s resilience in the face of obvious persecution. Like Paul describes when he says, “We are afflicted in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; 9 we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed.” “They have attacked me, but they have not prevailed.”

But sometimes, and I suspect this is more often what it will mean for us, it’s resilience in the face of subtle and powerful temptations. Throughout our lives there will be forces that will pull you, seeking to move you off the pathway of Zion. During school, meaningful extracurricular activities will threaten to diminish your involvement in church and then later the intensity of college studies will do the same. In adulthood, opportunities to get a meaningful promotion or maybe home improvement projects or the chance to spend more time traveling with the family will consume your attention and leave the calling to follow Jesus into an afterthought. Jesus warns that for some who hear the gospel, the priorities of this age, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desires for other things chokes our faith and makes it unfruitful. Evil will seek to thwart and exploit you in such a way so that at the end of your life, if you just let life happen to you, you will look back and wonder what it was all about. Where were you going?

But that, we sing, is not our way. Our way is the way of resistance, of seeing the temptation and refusing to be exploited or thwarted.  “They have often attacked me, but they have not prevailed.” 

Now notice that this Psalm is not just a summons to pluck and willpower. No, our resistance is possible because of God. Verse 2’s statement that they have not prevailed is explained by verse 4’s “The Lord has cut the ropes.” What’s more, our angry opposition to wickedness is channeled not first and foremost in action, but in prayer: that’s what verse 5 and following is—a cry to God: “Don’t let them win.” This is how this song trains us to engage in resistance: by together leaning ever more deeply in dependence upon God, trusting in him and praying to him. As Paul says, “We are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” That is where our resilience is found.

The first thing we are meant to learn for the journey in this triad of songs is this: as you follow God’s call to head toward Zion, you will experience the enemy seeking to turn you off the path and use you. Your calling is to resist: resist, knowing that God will give you the strength to do so and will bring your enemy to defeat.

Throughout this sermon we’ve imagined us joining in with Israel journeying to Zion and singing this song with them. But as we close, I want us to recognize that there is one other, even more important voice whose song we join. As Jesus grew up, he undoubtedly had memorized this song, singing it year after year. And I can’t help but wonder if for him there was a greater meaning when he sang, “They have attacked me, but they have not prevailed against me.” 

The prophet Isaiah actually prophecies a a very similar song that Jesus would sing. It goes, “I gave my back to those who beat me. I did not hide my face from scorn and spitting.” “YET,” the song goes on to sing, “I have set my face like flint. The Lord will help me, I will not be ashamed.” We know what this “servant” song speaks of: that Jesus was brutally beaten, mocked, attacked in every way. And yet nothing the enemy did will moved him off the path. He remained faithful to the end, to the cross, confident in the goodness of God. “They have attacked me, but they have not prevailed against me.” 

Jesus resisted; Jesus defied evil until the end; and now Jesus has risen and ascended into God’s heavenly presence, by his death once and for all laying the foundation of the glorious city of Zion. And his call to us is “Follow me.” In this life, do you not know where you’re going? Follow me, I have established the city of Zion. Are you worried about your ability to get there? Follow me—I know the way. When you face opposition, and you will stay with me; I have endured it and will bring you through. 

 

See, there is a journey we are on. The destination is beautiful. And Jesus is the one who leads the way. Let’s respond in prayer.