Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
IsAiah 25:6-9
On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare
a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
the best of meats and the finest of wines.
7On this mountain he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
8he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tear
from all faces;
he will remove the disgrace of his people
from all the earth.
The Lord has spoken.
In that day they will say,
“Surely this is our God;
we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the Lord, we trusted in him;
let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”
Matthew 6:25–34
Do Not Worry
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
We began last week a series on the Psalms of Ascent. This is a group of psalms towards the end of the book, and they are what might be called the Psalms of Pilgrimage. They are the Psalms of Ascent — psalms of going up.
This group of psalms was possibly sung by pilgrims on their journey towards Jerusalem. They may even have been chanted by Joseph and Mary on that memorable journey to Jerusalem when Jesus was twelve years old. These are the psalms of going up — a favourite phrase among the Jews: Shall we go up to Jerusalem? Even in December they would say, Next year, up to Jerusalem. So these are the Psalms of Ascent.
There have been many paraphrases of this psalm. It is one of the best known, one of the most loved psalms of the whole collection:
Unto the hills do I lift up my longing eyes;
O whence for me shall my salvation come?
For God does both come and be my certain aid.I will lift up my eyes unto the hills.
From where does my help come?
It is a question mark. People usually read it and think that our help comes from the hills. But no — the psalmist is questioning: Where does my help come from?
What do the hills mean to you? Are they the wonder of nature? Are they photographically beautiful? Do you have an urge — or perhaps in the old days some of us had the urge — to climb and conquer the hills? There is that famous quote: Why do you climb Everest? — Because it’s there.
Do the hills represent shelter? Or a looming, frightening menace? They can hold danger. They can hold warnings of bad weather. In primitive times they were thought to harbour evil spirits, and so they became sites of sacrifice — to go to the top of the hill to appease the spirits believed to live there.
I lived in the Lake District for three years, many years ago, and I loved to walk and climb in those hills. They were a solace, and sometimes a terror — particularly in storms when lightning came down. But they were always beautiful, and they always seemed so calm. I loved the hills.
But there is a story of a Dutch couple who decided to visit Switzerland. So, as Dutch couples do, they got their mobile home out and drove across to Switzerland. Two days later they went home, and everybody said, “Why have you stayed so little time in Switzerland?” And they replied, “Well, we didn’t like it. We couldn’t see the view because all those mountains were in the way.”
I will lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?
For the psalmist, the hills were neither a refuge nor a relief. He looks beyond them. They may be a symbol or a promise, but he knows that his Creator — my help — comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth, the maker of those hills.
He will not let your foot slip;
he who watches over you will not slumber.
Mountains and hills can be treacherous. A journey through them needs planning and guidance. On more than one occasion I have been involved in a mountain rescue of somebody who slipped down a cliff face and had to be rescued. They can be dangerous.
So the pilgrims, on their way up to Jerusalem, had the assurance of God’s guidance and care. There were robbers and bandits lurking in the hills. Pagan rituals were still going on. The hills attracted people to the high places. And in that empty land, when Israel had been sent into exile in Babylon, others came in and took over with their religions. They went into the hills and offered their sacrifices.
The pilgrims indeed needed someone to look over them — someone who would neither slumber, doze off, nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you.
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
Imagine that. You can claim the Lord God as your parasol. He will keep you shaded in his sight. Never fear — he is close at your right hand, even in the night-time, when you might be moonstruck.
In ancient times it was thought that the moon caused irrational fears, night anxieties, and nightmares. So the care of the Lord was constant — even under the light of the moon.
He will watch over our lives.
The Lord will watch over your coming and your going, both now and forevermore.
In verse 7 it says:
The Lord will keep you from all harm.
There is a parallel here with the Lord’s Prayer:
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
In our Old Testament reading from Isaiah, the prophet sees these hills and mountains now in a benign light, and all threat of darkness has vanished as God prepares spiritual blessings and salvation for all the people.
This is further underlined by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount:
O you of little faith, do not worry. Your heavenly Father knows your need.
Do not worry. If you look carefully, that phrase is repeated six times.
Do not worry, everybody. Worldly care, anxiety, doubt — our human condition — leave them all to him.
Cast your care on the Lord, for he cares for you.
Thus Psalm 121 becomes a dialogue for our times too. We, like the psalm writer, turn from the uncertain security of the hills to the Lord, who reassures us of his constancy. For he is the ultimate provider. He is the God of power, the all-sufficient one, who watches over us.
We have no need to look to the hills, even in their natural beauty. In this imagery the hills represent shelter — but for us, it is the Lord.
However, in certain parts of the world, the symbol of the hills is still there. We were in Peru a few years ago, in a small town in the foothills of the Andes. They had held a big religious festival and gone into the cathedral for Mass, and we were very impressed by this. Then our guide said to us, “Yes — but as sunset approaches, the same congregation will go up into the hills to watch the sun go down, and they will offer praise and worship to the spirits who live there.”
So for some, the hills still hold meaning — but not the meaning of the Lord, our maker.
However, in many ways our own hills are often the safe things that we surround our lives with, aren’t they? Our hills might be self-reliance, influence, insurance, financial security, keeping healthy and fit — the power we hope to have over our lives. We become so self-controlled that our hope in God the maker becomes diminished. We look instead to the hills for our help.
But is this self-reliance totally reliable? Are we prepared for the breakdown of our physical strength, of our material security? Do our hills block the view of God — like that Dutch couple, unable to see their ideal view?
My help comes from the Lord.
He is watching over us. It is an emphatic statement. But in our impatient lives we may be tempted to doubt this. Yet God, in his own time and in his own way, holds our life in his hands, for he has promised us a comforter and a protector through his Holy Spirit. Impatience and worry will not add a single hour to our lives, Jesus warns the crowd in his sermon. Worldly cares — and in our present time, mental health pressures — will wear us down. They bring limitations to the life God wants us to live.
Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
How true that is for us. Christ has summed up our human existence in two lines:
Do not worry about tomorrow.
Tomorrow will worry about itself.
Each day, we know, has trouble of its own. So in this troubled, worrying world:
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, because he watches over us.
Five times this phrase appears: He watches over you. It is repeated again and again. Like a shepherd guarding his flock, he does not doze off, lose focus, or grow weary. As those pilgrims tramped through dry, hot, dusty places, God shaded them.
So too, when we are weary on the hot and dry stretches of our own life’s journey — when we are burdened by the world’s needs — we can find shelter and refreshment in a God who watches over our lives. He will prevent us, through the rough passages of life, from taking a tumble — either spiritually or mentally. For we do indeed have to negotiate a slippery world. We may even be diverted along a hilly path of our own making.
Ultimately, our spiritual journey — our pilgrimage — is under God’s protection, as we continue ever onward and ever upward. And we can say with confidence:
My help comes from the Lord, now and forevermore.