In the weeks that followed, we watched the highlights of the game several more times, and believe it or not, something in me truly believed the outcome of the game might actually be different if I watched it just one more time.

Reading the Gospel accounts of Holy Week, I wonder if those closest to Jesus had a similar experience. I suspect the disciples may have hoped—in spite of Jesus’s clear indications—that things would not get as far as their Master having to suffer and die.

Just picture the scene: “As they were eating, he took bread, blessed and broke it, gave it to them, and said, ‘Take it; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it. He said to them, ‘This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many’” (Mark 14:22–24).

I imagine Him elaborating in that moment: “Things are about to get really, really hard. I am going to suffer, bleed, and die. But friends, you must remember these things as long as you live. This is the only way, and it is imperative that you celebrate forever what I am about to do for you.”

But knowing something is going to happen doesn’t mean you can’t hope for a different outcome. Up until the moment they sealed the tomb with Jesus inside, the disciples must have prayed in earnest that the day might yet end without their friend bruised, bloody, and deceased.

This illustrates something that the Bible teaches over and over again: God knows better than we do. In His unsearchable wisdom, God knew nothing but His own blood would restore the severed relationship between Himself and His people. He knew that in order to establish a new covenant, He would have to settle the terms of the original account once and for all with His own Son’s death. There was simply no other option than for the innocent Lamb of God to suffer and die so that we might live. 

On that immeasurably momentous Thursday evening, Jesus taught His disciples how to actively remember His broken body and spilled blood. They may not have wanted to believe it yet, but this is how it would have to be in order for God’s salvation story to conclude with Jesus wearing a crown of undisputed victory. We may yet find ourselves beholden to the debt of sin and sentence of eternal spiritual death if the events of that evening had not been consummated with the blood of the slain Savior. 

Because it is God writing the story instead of us, His blood has set us free.

Written by Alex Florez

We see this made clear in verse 2 when David said “May my prayer be set before you as incense,

the raising of my hands as the evening offering” (v.2). His heart yearned to honor the Lord and lift Him up. And what is the request he was making? One that God was pleased to answer. David asked to be kept from evil and to be protected from temptation. He specifically mentioned sins of the heart and of the mouth, two kinds of sin that are especially insidious and difficult to overcome. And he asked that God would send godly people to correct him (v.5). 

But there is more to David’s prayer than just a private request for the sake of his soul. He recognized the threat of wicked people—those who seek to bring him down in one way or another. He asked God to judge and correct them too (vv.6–7). But there is urgency in David’s prayer and maybe even fear. He sees the evil of temptation and the evil of his enemies as life threatening. We don’t often take sin this seriously, but David saw the results of sin in his life and the results of sin committed against him as deadly. And he was right. Sin isn’t just deadly, it also condemns us, and so we too must cry out, “But my eyes look to you, LORD, my Lord. I seek refuge in you; do not let me die.” (v.8)

Here’s the amazing reality that Lent points us to: God has delivered us through the work of Jesus. Jesus has delivered us from the power of sin; it no longer holds us in its sway despite our ongoing sinful inclinations. We are now able to not sin by the power of the Holy Spirit. And what is more, we are promised the eternal life that Jesus himself declared: “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me, even if he dies, will live. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25–26). In Christ we have the refuge of the resurrection, the permanent resolution to death.

Written by Barnabas Piper

Somehow, I missed that gene—or I just wasn’t paying attention when they tried to teach me. Whatever the case, I’m not a handy person. In fact, when I work on things, they usually end up worse than before I started. Even if I read an instruction manual or watch a hundred online videos, I come to the same conclusion: I have no idea what I’m doing!

Over time, I’ve made peace with my lack of handiness. That’s why I rely on mechanics to fix my car. I call plumbers to stop leaks. And I trust electricians to fix my outlets.

I know my limits, and I’m not shy about asking professionals for help.

But my inability to make things work right is not limited to household appliances or utilities. My biggest weaknesses have nothing to do with pipes or wires or nuts and bolts. They are rooted in my spiritual life. As inept as I am with a wrench or hammer, that doesn’t hold a candle to my helplessness in the face of sin and the struggles of life.

I could not rescue myself from sin on my own, and I cannot sustain my relationship with God on my own. I need help from the only “fixer” who matters.

That’s why I appreciate reminders like Psalm 121. A “song of ascents” voiced by Jewish festival pilgrims as they made their way up the hill that led into Jerusalem, this psalm helps me refocus when my vision gets a little fuzzy. It challenges me to acknowledge my own weakness and to rely on the One who formed me in my mother’s womb, the One who knows me better than I know myself and still loves me more than anyone else could.

I’ve been through a lot of storms in my life, and I’ve learned that there’s only one place to turn. Like the psalmist, I know that “my help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth” (v.2). I’ve surrendered to the God who “does not slumber or sleep” (v.4). No matter what the stress, scandal, or suffering, He has served as my protector and my shelter.

The season of Lent challenges us to examine our lives ruthlessly and to remove any hint of self-reliance or spiritual independence. We’re called to repent of our arrogance and find comfort in the God who sent His Son to accomplish what we could not accomplish on our own.

By sending Jesus, the Maker of heaven and earth proved that He has the power and grace to meet our deepest need. This also means that we can trust Him to handle any other problem that comes our way.

Written by Bob Bunn

But when the writer of Psalm 119 proclaimed his love for God’s Word, he referred to it as God’s judgments (v.91), instruction (v.92), precepts (v.93), decrees (v.95), and statutes (v.112). In other words, he has the Jewish Torah in mind—the Old Testament Law.

Now, I don’t know about you, but laws aren’t terribly exciting to me. When have you ever heard a pregame hype song or a top 40 music hit extol the glories of rules and regulations? When was the last time you skipped Friday night popcorn and a movie to dive into an instruction manual instead? So often, these parts of Scripture feel difficult to connect to. And yet, the writer of Psalm 119 cries out, “How I love your instruction! It is my mediation all day long” (v.97).

Even then, centuries before the fulfillment of God’s eternal salvation plan through Christ’s incarnation, the biblical writer was rejoicing in the hope that’s only found in God’s Word. If that was the heart posture of a psalmist who had only a partial revelation of the canon of Scripture we have today, how much more should it be ours now that we have God’s Word in its glorious fullness!

God’s redemptive plan has been one of progressive revelation. He gave the Old Testament saints glimpses of His salvation. He foretold of a coming Savior. He hinted at a new covenant of grace to replace the old covenant of the law. He pointed to the resurrection of the dead. But what we now know in full, the ancient believers only saw in shadows. They found their satisfaction in the Lord, His Word, and His promises, yet they still hoped for what was to come.

And so do we. Even as we live on the other side of the cross, we groan in a world racked with sin, pain, suffering, and death. Living in the already-but-not-yet stage of God’s redemptive plan, we hope for ultimate salvation. We await the final advent of our Savior from heaven who will one day return to destroy all evil, usher in His heavenly kingdom, and dwell with us in eternity forever.

Until then? We wait, obey, pray, suffer, trust, and hope—just like the saints of old. What anchors us as we wait amid life’s billowing waves? The promises and truths found in God’s Word—exactly what secured long-ago believers.

Life changes, but God and His Word do not. And so the ancient cry of Psalm 119:174 remains ours as well: “I long for your salvation, LORD, and your instruction is my delight.”

Written by Josh Cooley

There’s such a confidence which runs through this psalm. Whoever wrote this passage wasn’t guessing or wishing, he was remembering God’s wondrous works (Psalm 111:4).

When we read this psalm, I hope we consider what a great invitation we’ve received: to look longer at what God has done. Psalm 111 invites us to linger in these truths: God has remembered His people and provided for His people (v.5). And He has ordained His covenant forever (v.9).

We shouldn’t just casually glance at His works; we should study them because His name is “holy and awe-inspiring” (v.9). That’s what God’s people have always been invited to do, and the invitation remains—especially during Lent.

And notice the movement between past- and present-tense language being used throughout the psalm. There is a reminder of what has been and what is still true of Him. Great are His works! And great have been His works! As we focus on this, we can let what we read about God’s past grace steady our present faith.

Especially in a season like Lent, God’s people are invited to study, remember, and praise His works together from a unique vantage point (v.1) because he “has sent redemption to his people” (v.9). It’s a reminder that our present faith is tied to past grace.

Let’s keep this in mind as we move toward the cross of Christ. Whether it’s with a ready and willing heart or a reverent tremble, we’re never crying out into the dark. This psalm points us to a God who moved toward us first.

So even if for just a moment, we pause. We linger. We stop and reflect on the things God has made and the things He has done.

Written by Canaan Chapman

Stradivari won’t be making another Stradivarius, but we can craft blessings. It’s a choice, though; blessing does not come about by happenstance. That is why Psalm 103 begins (and ends) with, “My soul, bless the LORD” (Psalm 103:1,22). The psalmist was telling himself to bless; he was using his will to direct his emotions. If he was like me (and maybe you), he didn’t wake up most mornings already in a blessing frame of mind. He had to remind himself of what is true, so he was sitting his inmost being down and telling it to reflect on who God is and what He had done.

Old Testament scholar J. Alec Motyer writes, “When the Lord ‘blesses’ us, he reviews our needs and responds to them; when we ‘bless’ the Lord, we review his excellencies and respond to them.” That is what the psalmist did. In the first five verses, he reflected on the excellent things God had done for him personally. He had received from God forgiveness, healing, redemption, love, satisfaction, and renewal. Then, in verses 6–18, he widened the scope of his review to include what God has done for others throughout history. In spite of our smallness, weakness, and sin, He has put His faithful love on us forever. The end of the psalm expands the vision again, with the psalmist encouraging all of creation, both seen and unseen, to bless the Lord who rules over all.

If we are not careful, we can go through our whole lives reacting, letting our priorities be set by what seems most urgent. If reacting to our circumstances is how we live our lives, we will get to the end of them and wonder how we spent them. We need instead to speak to our souls, telling ourselves to bless.

Like the psalmist, then, let us remember that God in Jesus Christ has blessed us immensely, loving and forgiving us. If our souls understand how blessed we are, we will then be able to bless the Lord and also bless other people. In doing so, we can participate in the music of blessing God gives to the world, sounding forth His love more beautifully than the finest instrument.

Written by Elliot Ritzema

The blunt honesty of the psalms often provides the awakening I require. They jostle me out of my slumber and stupidity and place me on a higher vantage point by which I can see the world. The opening words of Psalm 92 are a splash of ice-cold water to my face. “It is good to give thanks to the LORD, to sing praise to your name, Most High” (Psalm 92:1). Hear it again, “It is good.” The psalmist beckons me out of my colorless life and into the world of vivid glory and dramatic beauty by putting before me the rightness of remembering and meditating on God.

In this song, a choice is offered. Continue to be the “stupid person” (v.6) who does not consider and meditate on God’s character, His works, and even His kingdom or take to heart God’s expansive majesty. The fool stays in the gray, continuing to live in unexamined ignorance. But the person who recounts and reflects on God’s awesome deeds finds themselves flourishing (vv.12–13).

Even being able to navigate the evil and injustice of a broken world requires the ability to remember and reflect on God. Knowing that the wicked will one day be met with divine justice gives strength to continue holding fast to the Lord in faith. God will have His day of justice. He will make all things right. His eternal kingdom will be established forever.

It is good to give thanks to God. When I fail to consider Him or pause and meditate on His kindness and mercy, I become a self-absorbed, self-centered, self-righteous judge of everything around me. But the psalmist calls us to give thanks, to sing, to praise His name. As we remember and declare His faithful love, His Spirit changes our hearts. His works are magnificent and worthy of our contemplation.

As the winter breaks and the Lenten season draws to its height and conclusion, may the spiritual clouds that sit over our hearts be pushed aside in the light of God’s grace. May we meditate deeply, and as a result, worship joyfully the Triune God who has loved us and given us His Son. May we rest by the still waters of His mercy and flourish, bearing the fruit of praise all the days of our lives.

Written by Jeremy Writebol

We’ve all faced days when it feels like every car manufactured in Detroit stands between us and our goal. In stop-and-go traffic, we’re forced to measure success by the distance and arrival time listed on a GPS. In my mind, the trips take forever. I look at my watch and wonder if I’m really making any progress. My goal still seems so far away.

Thankfully, the Bible reminds us that salvation is not like that.

The sons of Korah, a group of musical leaders in ancient Israel, are credited with writing several psalms, including Psalm 85. They recognized that God is always a lot closer than many of us can see or will admit. They knew that His salvation “is very near those who fear him” (Psalm 85:9).

In ancient Israel, God’s cloud of glory hovered over the tabernacle in the wilderness. When it moved, they moved. When it lingered, they lingered. His presence—His glory—served as a reminder that He was near and that He cared for His people.

God wants the same thing for His people today. More than anything, God will bring glory to Himself. He has made His salvation readily available to those who will come to Him. And by living in and working through His people, His glory continues to “dwell in the land” like it did centuries ago.

Instead of being some distant, almost unreachable destination, the Lord’s deliverance is near. Instead of requiring Herculean tasks to prove our loyalty, God is simply looking for humble confession and sincere faith. Since the beginning of time, He has made a habit of responding to those who call out to Him. He never denies a sincere cry for help, and He never wastes time with games of spiritual “hide and seek.” His salvation is near for anyone who reaches out to Him. In fact, God sent Jesus to live, die, and rise again so we could see just how close He is.

If God feels far away, it’s because we’re not seeing Him as He really is. We’re not focusing on His character or His promises. Our sin and our circumstances have warped our perspective.

Thankfully, Lent is a great time to readjust our spiritual vision. It’s a time when we can seek God honestly—and discover that He’s been with us the whole time. His salvation is very near.

Written by Bob Bunn

As adults, we have grown out of tattling on our siblings (or most of us have, at any rate), but our sense of right and wrong persists. However, the more injustice we witness, the more we may start to wonder whether the good is worth pursuing. In Psalm 73, we see the psalmist struggling with this very issue. God is good to the “pure in heart,” we read in verse 1. But if that’s the case, why do the wicked seem to get everything they want? Why do they have an easy life as they act proudly, speak maliciously, commit violence, and get rich by cutting corners and exploiting the weak? Why do the right thing when those who do the wrong thing have it so good?

IT’S NOT FAIR!

When faced with this situation, we can be tempted in two ways. First, we can ask, if there are no consequences for doing evil, why not just do what we can get away with? Why not join the wicked in their schemes?

The other temptation is to try and use wicked means for a good end. “We need to fight fire with fire,” we say. Or, “We need to give them a taste of their own medicine.” Behind these words is the sound of feet slipping. Fighting evil with evil will not reduce the amount of evil in the world; it will only drag us into the pit the wicked have dug for themselves. The theologian Francis Schaeffer used to say, “The Lord’s work must be done in the Lord’s way.” In other words, the means by which we seek goodness are every bit as important as the end.

Instead of becoming cynical and embittered, we need to do what the psalmist does in verse 17: enter God’s sanctuary. When we worship God, He gives us a more full picture of Himself and, therefore, a more clear picture of reality. In worship, we are reminded that the prosperity of the wicked is only temporary. They will not get away with it forever. Stooping to their level, even if we tell ourselves it’s for a good end, is making a bargain with the devil.

We need our sight renewed. In worship we also see the truly innocent one, Jesus Christ, who resisted evil and suffered on our behalf. When we look at Him, we see how He went to the cross in spite of it seeming like a failure to the world and His own disciples. When we see that God Himself is our “portion forever” (v.26), it becomes clear that the wicked are not the prosperous ones. They are more worthy of pity than envy.

Written by Elliot Ritzema

Psalm 66 follows a similar trajectory. It has 3 movements, and each is saturated with blessing from the center of God’s covenant with Israel: to the world (Isaiah 66:1–4), to Israel (vv.5–12), and to the psalmist (13–20). It moves down like a funnel, starting with the wide world and ending with a focus on the individual writer’s life.

Verses 1–4 are a hymn of praise. The whole earth is called to shout praise to God. This is the top of the funnel, the widest part because it includes all of creation. His works throughout history have shown His might. All of creation—not just people but every single created thing—sings praise to God. That song may be quiet now, but it will reach a crescendo at the end of time.

The middle of our funnel is verses 5–12, which are a song of thanksgiving. The mighty works of God displayed to all the earth are now exemplified in His people Israel. The psalmist recounted how God both brought Israel into slavery in Egypt and rescued them from that bondage. He tested and refined (v.10), and He brought them to abundance (v.12). In every circumstance, He is worthy of praise.

The final level of the funnel is a song of thanksgiving—for the individual psalmist. In verses 13–20, the scope is narrowed. What was a call to the nations to praise, and then the people of Israel, became something personal. “I will tell you what he has done for me” (v.16). The same God who guides history and moves in mighty ways also moved directly in the psalmist’s life. He rescued and redeemed a people, and He rescues and redeems each person therein.

Lent can carry us down the same funnel as we prepare our hearts to remember the sacrifice of Jesus. We can see Psalm 66 baked into the story. Jesus said when entering Jerusalem that if the people weren’t praising God in that moment “the stones would cry out” (Luke 19:40)—just like creation is commanded to do here. When Jesus taught in the temple during Holy Week, “all the people were captivated by what they heard” (v.48)—just like the people of Israel here.

And because of His obedience to death and His resurrection, we can personally know His grace, faithfulness, and love. With the disciples on the road to Emmaus, we can joyfully tell others about the Jesus we know (Luke 24:34–35).

This Lent season, may we be a people marked by thanksgiving to our God, who is ever faithful and worthy of praise for all that He has done through His Son Jesus Christ.

Written by Cameron Magby