Psalm 130
A song of ascents.
1 Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
2     Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
    to my cry for mercy.
3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
    Lord, who could stand?
4 But with you there is forgiveness,
    so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
5 I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
    and in his word I put my hope.
6 I wait for the Lord
    more than watchmen wait for the morning,
    more than watchmen wait for the morning.
7 Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
    for with the Lord is unfailing love
    and with him is full redemption.
8 He himself will redeem Israel
    from all their sins.

This Lenten season we’ll be focusing our attention on a group of Psalms that all share the same heading. They’re all called “Songs of Ascents.” It’s an interesting title especially for a group of Psalms that seem to have come from different authors at different times for different occasions. There are a couple theories as to what this “going up” refers to and why it’s common among these 15 Psalms.

The first theory is that these Psalms were written to commemorate the return of the Israelites from their 70-year exile in Babylon. Historically, that felt like a low point for the nation of Israel. Since its inception, that was the first time it had been utterly defeated, and many of the people who were returning to Israel had never even seen it before. This was a second generation born in exile, having grown up hearing about the greatness of days gone by. And so, this return out of exile feels like coming out of the lowest point in their history.

Another theory is that these Psalms were written to be sung specifically on the occasions of going up to Jerusalem to celebrate any or all of the 3 major annual festivals: Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. Because Jerusalem literally sat up in elevation on Mt. Zion, any time you went there, you’d have to go up to Jerusalem. So, it’d make sense to call festival songs, songs of ascent.

There are more theories that I won’t bore you with tonight. I do bring this up because it’s the title of the series, but also because I want you to see how this relates to you even though you’ve likely never been to Jerusalem and you certainly haven’t been a prisoner of war in ancient Babylon.

Whether we’re wondering if 2026 is the high or low point of Christian history in Canada, whether we’re preparing to celebrate one of the most important holidays on the Christian calendar, i.e. the high, high celebration of Easter, ultimately, when we consider the words of our chosen Song of Ascents tonight, we see an explanation of why we need to go up that is universal and timeless.

The psalmist starts out this way: Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.[1]

There are a lot of reasons a person could feel low. But this goes deeper than feeling bummed that Canada won silver on Sunday or that it’s still winter outside. The psalmist makes it clear what he’s talking about here: Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.[2]

Mercy is something you need when you’ve done something wrong. And in the next verse, the psalmist confesses that that list is long: If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand?[3]

This is what the season of Lent is all about – acknowledging how deep the hole is that we dug for ourselves; taking honest stock of our spiritual condition. And there’s only one conclusion: it’s not good. No, I can’t put it that way tonight, because of all the Psalms we’ll read this year, this is the one that requires the most brutal honesty: If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand?[4]

How many sins could you confess if I gave you the next 30 seconds? There are simple ways to diagnose them. I can start with the ways that I’ve failed or even harmed someone else… in my family, at work or school, on the road, at the store, online. I can think about the ways I’ve let myself down… with behaviours that are less than flattering, thought habits I know I shouldn’t indulge. I can think about the ways I’ve rebelled against God… failing to prioritize prayer or private meditation, loving the creation more than the Creator.

It shouldn’t take long to realize how deep the guilt of sin runs. We’re not wading in the shallows. We’re drowning in the depths beyond the help of self-improvement, beyond the hope of digging ourselves out of it, beyond the reach of a handout or a leg up. We need mercy.

And because our God is great, that’s exactly what we get. If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you.[5]

If, meaning, he doesn’t. However long the list of sins you could confess – given 30 seconds or 30 years to compile it – God doesn’t look at it. God doesn’t file it in a cabinet for future reference. He redacts it. He shreds it. He incinerates it. There is not a trace of the record of your sins anymore, because he’s forgiven you. He does not count your sins against you or allow the thought of them to change the way he feels about you. He loves you, and he saves you even from the depths of the guilt and depravity of your own soul, which was beyond the help of anyone else, except for him.

And that changes everything: I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.[6]

The mere prospect of a forgiving, loving God restores the light of hope to our sin-darkened depths. And yet, thankfully, this is much more than the prospect of forgiveness. It’s the promise of forgiveness, which is why the psalmist says: in his word I put my hope. There are times when I am my own worst enemy. There are moments in every Christian’s life, when they can forgive everyone but themselves. This is not that moment, because in this Psalm you have the unequivocal Word of God promising you his undying love for you. You’re not imagining things or distorting reality. This is as clear as black and white, ink on the page.

And that gives me hope that despite myself – despite the fact that I just can’t put the shovel down and I keep digging the hole deeper every day – God will never stop forgiving and redeeming me because no matter how many times I fail, his love never does: Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.[7]

In this Lenten season, as we consider the Songs of Ascents, the first step we take up is out of the depths of sin and guilt and into the comfort and joy of God’s forgiveness. The list of our sins may be long, but by God’s grace it is long gone. And that leaves us lingering in the goodness and love of a God who has redeemed us from all our sin, through the Passion, i.e. the suffering and death of our Saviour Jesus that we commemorate tonight and every Wednesday night throughout this season of Lent.

Until then, call on the Lord for mercy and know that he hears you. Confess your sins to him, and know that he forgives them. Wait for the Lord and put your hope in his Word, for with him is unfailing love and full redemption. Amen.

[1] Psalm 130:1,2

[2] Psalm 130:2

[3] Psalm 130:3

[4] Psalm 130:3

[5] Psalm 130:3,4

[6] Psalm 130:5,6

[7] Psalm 130:7,8

Matthew 4:1-11

1 Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. 3 The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”
4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. 6 “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:
“‘He will command his angels concerning you,
and they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”
7 Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 9 “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”
10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”
11 Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.

Jesus Did It Better

How many of you have been paying attention to the Olympics? It’s hard with the time difference, but there are apps to watch events live or highlights after the fact. There are websites that track medal counts. It’s fun to see the events and the athletes that compete in them.

My wife and I say the same thing almost every Olympics – they should really provide context by putting a normal person in each of the events. How well would a mechanic do in doubles figure skating? How far would a lawyer fly off the ski jump? Then we could really know how impressive it is what these athletes – these gold medalist, world champions – do.

In a way that’s what Matthew shows us today. He shows us Jesus pulling off a world-class, gold medal type performance. Only, what Jesus is doing in Matthew 4 isn’t something obscure, something we’ve never seen or done before; it’s our daily, lived experience, just done better.

Matthew tells us that before the water from Jesus’ baptism was dry, the same Spirit that descended on him in the form of a dove, filled him and led him out into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil, where he fasted for 40 days and 40 nights, so that at the end of that time – in what must be one of the biggest understatements in the whole of Scripture – Matthew tells us, he was hungry.

That’s when the world-class effort began. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”[1]

It almost sounds reasonable. Jesus was hungry and as the Son of God he had the power to do what the devil was suggesting. It almost sounds reasonable, but then again, every temptation does, doesn’t it?

Here’s something to remember about Jesus’ fast. He didn’t impose it on himself. The Spirit led him into the wilderness to fast without food for forty days, with the implicit promise that the Father would sustain him. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how that’s human possible, but this wasn’t even unprecedented. God did the same thing for Moses when he was receiving the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai: “Moses was there with the LORD forty days and forty nights without eating bread or drinking water.”[2] God took care of Moses and had already sustained Jesus for this long. To make bread now would be to break faith in God to provide.

The devil does the same thing to us, doesn’t he? He meets us in our weakness and causes us to question the goodness of our God. Money’s tight. You’re not sure how you’re going to get by. What’s the first thing you trim from your budget – your internet or your offerings? Your health deteriorates. You’re not sure how you’re going to get through. Where’s the first place you turn – your medicine cabinet or your knees in prayer?

We fall prey to those kinds of temptations to diminish our faith in God – or lose it altogether – all the time. But how did Jesus fare? He says, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”[3] Jesus didn’t appeal to the authority and power that were rightfully his. Instead, he used the same tool that God has placed into your hands: “It is written.”

Jesus won round one, but the devil was undeterred: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”[4]

The devil is no fool. Seeing Jesus’ commitment to the Word of God, Satan tried to use that against him. Instead of losing faith in God to provide, now the Tempter wants Jesus to trust God too much, if that were possible, i.e. to put God to the test. Instead of causing Jesus to question his Father, he’s trying to coax him into being over-confident and self-confident.

The devil does the same thing to us, doesn’t he

I really love this one quote by a Bible commentator, in part because of how dated it is, but at the same time because of how timeless its application is: “A church member, admonished because at a circus he had eagerly rushed into a corrupt side show, defended himself by saying, ‘I cannot deny that I went there, but while I was there I was constantly praying, “Turn my eyes away from worthless things.”’”[5] We may not go to circuses and waste our time in salacious side shows, but how many sinful activities do we engage in while simultaneously asking God to forgive us for what we are currently doing? How many times have we prayed, “lead us not into temptation,” but then willingly walked straight into one?

The devil loves to exploit our overconfidence, and he does it with great effect. But it didn’t work on Jesus. Again, he replies, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”[6] Jesus didn’t waste his time toying with temptation to try to prove how strong he was. He demonstrated true spiritual strength by again quoting God’s Word – a tool that God gives to you – and then illustrating whose approval he craves most, i.e. not the devil’s or the world’s or his own, but his Father’s.

Then, finally, the devil approaches Jesus with a supernatural revelation, showing Jesus all the kingdoms of the world in an instant, and lying through his teeth: “All this I will give you, if you will bow down and worship me.”[7]

Jesus had to know that the kingdoms of the world weren’t the devil’s to give away. Jesus also knew that he wasn’t there to sit on a throne on earth anyway. He had come to seek and save the lost – not from worldly oppression or natural disaster or social injustice, but from sin. And yet the devil is still no fool. He knew Jesus’ love for the people of the world and offered them to him at a bargain price: “All this I will give you, if you will bow down and worship me.”[8]

One thing we do know about Jesus is that he wasn’t exactly excited to die on the cross. He even prayed to his Father to find another way to save the world. And so, even though he knew the Father’s plan, and even though he knew how unrealistic and irrational this temptation was, it was still a temptation.

Again, who of us hasn’t been in the same position? We know the Word. We know God’s promises. We know what kind of behaviour God expects from us, and what kind of things we can expect from this life – that it’s not always going to be gumdrops and lollipops. And yet, when the Tempter paints a picture of what life could be or maybe what we think life should be, we bite, even though we know how unrealistic and irrational that temptation is. All the problems in our marriage aren’t going to be magically resolved if we seek solace in someone else’s arms. Our feelings of insecurity aren’t going to disappear if we fret away every hour of the day trying to earn enough money to make it through the month.

Satan so often capitalizes on our impatience and how intimidating a prospect it is to be obedient to God in everything all the time.

But how did Jesus fare? He says, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”[9] Jesus’ desires did not blind him to reality, nor was he daunted by how difficult the rest of his life was going to be. He may not have looked forward to the cross, but not even the most elaborate lies of the devil could sway him from going there.

Jesus won! He beat the devil. And amazingly he did it not by wielding his almighty power, not by playing the God card, but by using the same tool that God gives you.

But here’s where we need to be careful not to draw the wrong conclusion or learn the wrong lesson. Jesus was a human, just like us. He was tempted in every way, just like us. He used the same tool that God gives us. But that doesn’t mean that we should think that we could what Jesus did. That’d be like me handing you a pair of ski jumping skis and expecting you to make it off the 140m jump alive.

We don’t fall into temptation because we don’t know enough or because we don’t try hard enough. Even when we know the devil is whispering in our ear, even when we know that what he is tempting us to do is wrong, even when we know what the right response should be, we don’t always do it, do we? Because we’re weak, and the devil is wily, and sometimes we just want to sin.

If this passage were only a guide for how to repel the devil, it would have value, but it wouldn’t be enough. Jesus doesn’t just set an example for us here. He sets the standard. He does what you and I consistently fail to do, and he does it – not because it’s fun but because he loves you.

Jesus loves you enough to take on human flesh and blood, to expose himself to 40 days (and 30+ years) of temptation, to be vigilant and perfect his whole life long, so that, as Paul put it in our second reading for today, through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.[10]

Jesus is your champion. And by his victory he made you more than a spectator of his glory. He made you a sharer in it by his grace. His perfect life and his innocent death forgave all your failures and sins, and gave you the goal – the gold medal standard – salvation and eternal life in him.

So don’t be just a spectator in your spiritual Olympics. Resist the devil as Jesus did. Make use of the Word of God as Jesus did. Apply it when temptation comes, and when your flesh fails nevertheless, turn to your champion for the forgiveness he won for you, through hard trial and vigorous effort, through his perfect obedience and innocent death, and know that his victory is yours no matter how well or poorly you do, because Jesus did it better. Amen.

[1] Matthew 4:3

[2] Exodus 34:28

[3] Matthew 4:4

[4] Matthew 4:6

[5] William Hendriksen, Exposition of the Gospel According to Luke, (Grand Rapids, Baker Book House, 1978), 240.

[6] Matthew 4:7

[7] Matthew 4:9

[8] Matthew 4:9

[9] Matthew 4:10

[10] Romans 5:19