Psalms of Ascent Psalm 122

Psalm 122

I rejoiced with those who said to me,
“Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Our feet are standing
in your gates, O Jerusalem.

Jerusalem is built like a city
that is closely compacted together.

That is where the tribes go up,
the tribes of the Lord,

to praise the name of the Lord
according to the statute given to Israel.

There the thrones for judgement stand,
the thrones of the house of David.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem:
“May those who love you be secure.

May there be peace within your walls
and security within your citadels.”

For the sake of my brothers and friends,
I will say, “Peace be within you.”

For the sake of the house of the Lord our God,
I will seek your prosperity.

John 2:13–17

When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!”

His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

Psalms of Ascent - Psalm 121

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.

Psalms of Ascent - Psalm 121

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.

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.

Our pilgrimage, watched over by God, is through this life to eternity.

Over the years I have had an ongoing battle in my head with what we call 'catastrophising' - that cognitive Achilles heel of getting stuck in negative thinking and expecting the worst to happen.

It's quite irrational, of course - but it's a common personality trait and you may well find yourself sometimes doing the same.

So for instance, when I was working in the very secure prison environment, each day on my arrival I would have an irrational fear that I would be turned away at the gate and my security clearance revoked, for some imaginary misdemeanour.

When I worked for the NHS, it would be about missing life-threatening conditions in my patients, which would probably lead to me being struck off.

And even now, in retirement, I still find it a temptation - if I pass a speed camera, I nervously check my speed and even though I'm within the limit I'm still sure that I probably wasn't for the few seconds I was in the camera's field of view.

Yes, it's completely irrational. But then, as someone once said, just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that they aren't out to get me!

But sometimes our fears are justified. As a young man I once walked blissfully through a rough area of South Africa after dark, on the edge of a black township, unaware that as a white boy that was quite a dangerous thing to do. When I got back to where I was staying people were horrified at what I had done - they seemed to think it remarkable that I hadn't been robbed or worse.

Maybe the answer is that we need to weigh up our circumstances and make a sensible rather than irrational evaluation of the dangers. In modern health & safety parlance, it's all about risk-assessment.

The writer of our psalm seems to be doing just that - making a risk assessment.

You'll know if you were with us at Holy Ascension last week that we're following a short sermon series on a collection of Psalms known as the 'psalms of ascent' - psalms that were used by pilgrims on their way to the Temple in Jerusalem for the major festivals.

The 'ascent' might have been up from the countryside to the hills of Jerusalem; or through the city to the Temple mount; or even the final ascent up the stairway to the Temple entrance.

Last Sunday Oliver led us through Psalm 120 and its concept of peace - shalom - both in our circumstances now and also in our future hope of peace for all eternity; and today we're considering Psalm 121 which focuses on the dangers our pilgrims might encounter on their journey.

So, let's see what we can learn - let's investigate the risk assessment that our psalmist makes as he embarks on his own pilgrimage

1. Orientation

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. Psalm 121:1-2

The KJV mistranslates this verse, as 'the hills from whence cometh my help'. But actually, it's a question - and the answer lies beyond those hills, to the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

We're not told which hills the pilgrim is considering. Hills were often places of danger in the middle east - they provided shelter for robbers and rebels, so the psalmist might be looking anxiously at those hills as he passes by.

But I think it's more likely that he's being inspired by the hills, especially if he's considering the countryside around Jerusalem, and Mount Zion itself on which the Temple rested.

I find there's something about mountains that helps me reset my perspective on life - if I'm in the Alps or in the Lake District the mountains towering over me seem to put the silly worries and catastrophes of my earthly life into perspective.

And it's the same for our psalmist - the majesty of the hills reminds him of who created them - and he lifts his heart in a song of praise to the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

For that's from where his help truly comes. That's his anchor point, his orientation as the psalm continues.

And it continues with the implications of his help being anchored in the LORD. He spells out three implications about God over the next three pairs of verses:

2. God is Watchful

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. Psalm 121:3-4

Did you notice we've gone from the first person - 'I' to the second person 'You'?

Our psalm reads a bit like a dialogue, possibly intended to be recited back and forth between different groups of pilgrims like a “question and answer” poem. Our first two verses are sung by one group, to set the scene - and then others come back with the implications.

And there's a theme that runs through all three of the implications, which is about watching. So here's the first example - God will not let your foot slip, for he watches over you, as he watches over Israel. He does not slumber nor sleep.

We're only too familiar with the account of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane who rebuked his disciples that they couldn't even keep watch for just an hour while he prayed.

You probably find the same in your own prayer life - how difficult it can be to concentrate. How flimsy our prayers can be. We are so easily distracted and led astray by our random thoughts.

But not so God. He is on duty 24/7 - he doesn't doze, he watches over us.

I love to pray in the middle of the night. You know, those times when you wake at 3am with stuff on your mind - and somehow that's when prayers come clearest for me. Maybe I have this idea that I'm the only one awake so I have more bandwidth in my connection with God!

But actually, the psalmist David found exactly the same:

On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. Psalms 63:6-7

Singing in your prayers in the middle of the night may not endear you to your spouse but the point is, God is always available - always there to listen to us and always present to watch over us. Day and Night. And verse 3, He will not let your foot slip - not even where the way is treacherous.

3. God is Unfailing

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.Psalm 121:5-6

Pilgrimage journeys in the middle east can be hot and sticky. I'm always dismayed to read about the number of people who die each year on the Muslim Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca - in 2024 some 1,300 pilgrims died enroute, mostly from heat exhaustion.

But here God is promising something remarkable - that he will himself be the pilgrim's shade, protecting against the sun by day and the moon by night. Again, we're reminded the LORD will watch over him.

And the sun and moon are metaphors for everything that might distress or threaten the pilgrim, day and night. God makes a similar promise to the Israelites in the Book of Isaiah

They will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the desert heat or the sun beat upon them. He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water. Isaiah 49:10

But there's a problem: experience suggests this isn't always the case. Doesn't this all sound too good to be true? Don't Christians get persecuted and suffer terribly at the hands of others - in so many countries of our world? How then are we to understand these verses?

4. God is Eternal

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. Psalm 121:7-8

It's that word watch again - he will watch over your life.

It's plainly not the case that as Christians we don't experience difficulties from time to time.

But God never promised an absence of trials and tribulations - the psalmist David wrote about such times:

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalms 23:4

Perhaps God doesn't promise an absence of evil, but rather that we be equipped by him to deal with it.

And if we are inclined to say psalm 121 cannot be true because we do experience harm, then maybe the answer is that we need to have a broader perspective.

We so easily focus on this brief life, which pales into the blink of an eye alongside the perspective of eternity.

And maybe that's where the promise lies - as he watches over our coming and going, both now and evermore. The psalm is saying that our eternal future is secure, because God will guide us safely through this life - be that life short or long - into the peace and rest of eternity with him. As St Paul said:

If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. 1 Cor 15:19

And that's where we need to have our focus. For our eternal security is in the God who watches over us - whose protection is unfailing and eternal - and it is achieved through the ministry of Jesus Christ.

I had a minor cancer scare last summer, and as I catastrophised that this was probably going to mean my exit from this life, I was reminded of St Paul's words in Philippians 3:14 - that:

God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

For it was Christ who brought me into a living relationship with God - because he was prepared to take the punishment for sin that should have been mine and bear it on his shoulders to a ghastly and defiling death on the cross.

And he carried your sin too. But death could not hold him - for the LORD did not let his foot slip, he was his shade against the sun and moon and he saw over his life in all its comings and goings - until he defeated all these old enemies of death and evil by rising again to life for all eternity. Paul again:

But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. 1 Cor 15:19-22

And that is the ultimate risk assessment that we need to carry in our hearts - that whatever we go through in this life, whatever perils and trials we may face, God is indeed watching over us - watchful, unfailing, eternal - to bring us safely home to be with him, through the merits of Jesus and his death on the cross.

Catastrophising? Yes, we're probably all prone to that from time to time. But the answer is that whatever we endure here, in hardship, illness, fear and death - there is a safe harbour awaiting us where we shall live in peace and dwell in adoration forever and ever.

And that's our real pilgrimage journey - through this life to eternity.

Psalms of Ascent - Psalm 120

Psalm 120

I call on the Lord in my distress,
and he answers me.

Save me, O Lord, from lying lips
and from deceitful tongues.

What will he do to you,
and what more besides, O deceitful tongue?

He will punish you with a warrior’s sharp arrows,
with burning coals of the broom tree.

Woe to me that I dwell in Meshech,
that I live among the tents of Kedar!

Too long have I lived
among those who hate peace.

I am a man of peace;
but when I speak, they are for war.

Matthew 10:16–22

I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.

“Be on your guard against men; they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues. On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

“Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved.


We are beginning a new series now on the Psalms of Ascent, or Songs of Ascent. They are a collection of psalms associated with the pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the main festivals of the Jewish calendar.

The ascent—the going up—in mind here might be going up from the low country around Jerusalem to the hill country in which Jerusalem is situated. It might also refer to walking up the Temple Mount once you get to Jerusalem. It might even refer to walking up the steps of the Temple that the priests used when they went to perform the sacrifices.

But whatever its exact historical context, the main theme of these psalms is starting somewhere low and ending up somewhere high.

Psalm 120 is the first of these Psalms of Ascent. The key verse, I think, for us this morning is verse 7 of the psalm, which says:

I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war.

So there are two things for us to think about from this psalm this morning: first of all, longing for peace, and secondly, looking forward to peace.

Longing for peace

Before we dive in and think a bit more about that, we need to understand what the psalmist means by peace. The Hebrew word, of course, as many of us know, is shalom.

Shalom means a lack of serious lack, if you see what I mean. To put it another way, it means a healthy, complete, and harmonious unit—whether that unit is one’s inner life, one’s body, perhaps society, or even the whole human race functioning harmoniously. The great high priestly blessing given by God to Aaron in the book of Numbers says this:

The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face to shine on you and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face towards you and give you peace.

And we retain the central place of peace in blessing at the end of our services, when the priest says:

The peace of God, which passes all understanding…

Yes, the lack of war is part of it, but shalom is more than that. It is the lack of long-standing grudges, for example. It is the lack of deceitfulness, lack of envy, lack of misunderstanding. And it is this that the psalmist longs for.

Remember, the Songs of Ascent are all about the journey to Jerusalem, and the name of the city means the city of shalom — Yerushalayim. So the psalmist longs not only for the literal city of Jerusalem, but for the broader place of peace in all of life. But this is certainly not where the psalmist finds himself. Look at verse 1. He says:

I call on the Lord in my distress.

That word distress means a tight, constricting place — a feeling of being forced into a situation you can’t escape from. Then look at verse 2:

Save me, Lord, from lying lips and deceitful tongues.

The psalmist longs for the harmonious integrity and truth-speaking that come along with shalom, and yet everyone around him seems fine with constant lying. Then look at verse 5:

Woe is me that I dwell in Meshech, that I live among the tents of Kedar.

Now Meshech and Kedar were pagan tribes, not only geographically far from Jerusalem but also culturally far from the central place of Israel’s worship.

Perhaps the psalmist was literally living among these pagan tribes, these foreign people. But it is more likely he was living in Israel, yet it felt to him as though he might as well have been living in Meshech because of the behaviour of the people around him. Then look at verses 6 and 7:

Too long have I lived among those who hate peace.
I am a man of peace, but when I speak, they are for war.

Again, this need not be literal war, but rather widespread opposition to a shalom way of life. And the whole point of this psalm appearing at the start of the Psalms of Ascent is to give voice to a feeling of dissatisfaction with the world around us — and a longing for that place, that city of peace.

So I wonder: do we feel distress at the lack of shalom around us?

Our news outlets and headlines are full of distressing stories about the lack of peace in our world, in our country, even in the Church of England. But I doubt many of us would describe it as a deep, constricting distress like the psalmist. I think the key thing here is what we deep down feel is the standard.

I felt deep distress when I lived in Russia, because lying, corruption, and distrust were standard. Russians did not feel the same level of distress, because they accepted that standard. That was just the way life was. In the same way, we will not deeply long for shalom in our world, in our country, in our villages, or in our church if deep down we have accepted a lower standard. That is why we need to keep reading our Bibles, why we need to keep going to home groups to read our Bibles together — to remind ourselves of the standard of shalom that God expects.

We looked recently in our sermon series at Acts chapter 2, where we were told that the early church:

All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favour of all the people.

That is the standard that God sets for the church. C.S. Lewis put it like this: we are often like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he can't imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday by the seaside. We are far too easily pleased, said Lewis. We won't long for the city of peace if we have accepted a lower standard of what shalom really means—the healthy, complete and utterly harmonious functioning of the family, the church and the world.

Perhaps this morning you are in fact keenly feeling a dysfunction, perhaps in your family, perhaps in your own body. Perhaps there's a situation in the news which is really disturbing you. Psalm 120 allows us to give voice to that pain, to say woe is me that I have to live in such a situation. It doesn't require us to put a brave face on it, but it does require us not to wallow in it, but to look forward to a better future.

And so now, secondly, let's look at what the psalmist says about looking forward to peace. So returning to verse 1, we see that at the outset the psalmist trusts and hopes that his distress will not be permanent.

I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me.

And then as we look through the rest of the psalm, notice that the resolution to his problems is framed as being in the future in verses 3 and 4.

What will he do to you. Deceitful time.
He will punish you.

You may be thinking, well, hold on, wait a second. How is the solution to a belligerent mindset punishment with sharp arrows and burning coals? Well, the word punish isn't actually in the original. The idea is this. What is the comeuppance for lying and deceiving? Nothing good, says the psalmist. Those who live by the sword will die by the sword. A culture of lying, deceiving, refusing to make peace may benefit those who practice these things for a bit. But sooner or later, the lying, the deceiving, the belligerence will hurt those who practice it too.

And we must not think this is some kind of karma, some kind of impersonal law of nature that what goes around comes around. Our Bibles include the words, he will punish you for a reason. The psalmist has cried out to the Lord, save me from deceit. and the salvation of peace, of shalom, will come when justice is carried out.

Think back to Russia. Why is it that they all just accept that you have to pay the university if you want good grades for your kids, or that it's part of life to pay protection money to the mafia? Why do they just shrug? Because these people get away with it and they're never justly punished. Sadly, it's human nature to get away with it as much as you can before justice is brought to bear.

I think of Neville Chamberlain and his famous declaration that he has secured peace for our time after the Munich agreement with the Nazis. But now we know, and many at the time knew full well that the Nazis were lying. They were seeing how much they could get away with.

Churchill was no saint, but he knew that when it comes to deep evil, shalom peace requires justice being seen to be carried out. Because remember, shalom means a healthy, complete, and harmonious unit. And sometimes this requires the removal of whatever is preventing such health and harmony.

So at this point, we need to consider several things. First of all, we were created to be in a healthy, complete and harmonious whole with other humans and with God. But sin entered in and it threatens to prevent such health and harmony between us, between other people, between us and God. Therefore, sin had to be removed.

Like the Nazis, it had to be seen to be publicly brought to justice and defeated. So for God, there were two options. Bring sinful humans to justice or take the punishment upon himself. And he chose the latter on the cross.

Christianity is all about peace. It's all about shalom with God. It's about the fact that we were the ones who have lied about God and refused his offers of peace. He was a man of peace and we instead preferred war with him.

So the central question of Christianity is this, are you at peace with God? Do you admit that you are by nature his enemy? Do you accept that peace is only possible on his terms, because only he can secure it? So each of us must ask ourselves that question this morning.

We must also remember the Psalms of Ascent are about movement from a low place up to a high place, from disharmony to harmony, peace and shalom. Psalm 120 is a freeze frame of being in that low place, when the high place of shalom seems a long way off.

Perhaps that is you this morning, feeling not at all in a place of harmony, but longing for it. whether in your body, in your family, or in the world. Psalm 120 reminds us, God will. God will bring shalom. He's promised it. He's God, so he will do it. He will bring us to the eternal Jerusalem, the heavenly city of everlasting peace. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

So this morning, let us be those who long for peace, who long for the completeness of perfect shalom. Let us not be content with a lower standard. Let's make sure we're not those who have lying tongues or who prefer to keep conflict going rather than to resolve it. And let us make sure we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ and his crucifixion. And let us hold to our sure and certain expectation that one day we will enter into our master's rest, where sorrow and sighing will flee away, and he will wipe every tear from our eyes.