Resting in God

My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content. Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore. Psalm 131

When it comes to reading the Bible, there are times to get your teeth into stuff that is often demanding and difficult. Some of the Old Testament prophets, or what to us are strange, alien books like Leviticus, are good examples; so too some of the New Testament letters or the Book of Revelation. If we are serious about growing in the Christian life we need to roll our sleeves up.

But there are other times when we need to lay that aside and simply rest in God: when we need milk rather than meat – times, say, when we’re specially tired or stressed or overworked. And it’s so that we can do that that the Bible contains little gems like Psalm 131.

I’ve printed the whole psalm above; it’s just three verses. But in those few words it conjures up a beautiful picture, that of a small child (“weaned”: not just a baby) at peace in its mother’s arms. I invite you to see yourself in verses 1-2 – and to see your “mother” as God himself.

The psalmist starts by claiming to be humble: “My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty…”

Now, you could find a problem with that straight away! Isn’t there a certain pride precisely in claiming to be humble? Even if you haven’t read Dickens’ novel David Copperfield (it isn’t short!) you may well have seen a film of it, and the wonderful name Uriah Heep is very likely known to you. He’s the nasty, unctuous, creepy, nauseating character who is always wringing his hands in mock lowliness and declaring how “umble” he is. Ugh!

But I’m sure the psalmist isn’t remotely like that. Whereas Uriah Heep is putting on an elaborate show to achieve his own ends, the psalmist is truly humble. He knows that God sees right through all pretence, and so he makes no great claims for himself.

He says his eyes “are not haughty”. That’s a very vivid word – you can almost see the proud person looking literally right down his nose at his “inferiors” as if they’re an annoying speck of dirt (there’s a perfect example in Luke 18:11-12). May God help us never to develop a superior attitude to other people, whatever their roots, their social class, their appearance or educational background! A word to some of us?

Then the psalmist recognises his own limitations: “I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.”

I’m content, he says, to live out the life God has allotted me. I’m sure he would also say that if he felt God calling him to something “higher” he would be quick to respond – his words here aren’t a cop-out from taking on heavy responsibility or playing his part in sorting out knotty problems. But he is not ambitious in a wrong sense.

The proper Christian attitude to ambition can only be: “All I want is to find, and then to do, what God wants me to do.” There’s an important warning there – how many people have wrecked their lives by overreaching themselves and ending up humbled because they refused to be humble?

There’s a hint in the psalm that this attitude towards life hasn’t always come naturally. The psalmist tells us that he has “calmed and quieted his soul”, which suggests that there have been times when he has been anything but calm and quiet – times when he’s had to take himself in hand.

Some years ago now there was something of a fad: people were teaching that the secret of the Christian life was to “let go and let God”, as if knowing God was some kind of spiritual “trip” where you just floated away on a heavenly cloud nine. But that is wrong. True, the psalmist can describe himself as “content”. But (like the apostle Paul in Philippians 4:10-13) this is something he has “learned”. Hard experience can sometimes be our best teacher.

What is the secret of true contentment? I would suggest four vital ingredients… One, I know God loves me. Two, I know God has saved me. Three, I know God has a place for me in his purposes. And four, I know I am, right now, in that place, however hard or easy it may be.

And so the psalmist can simply say “like a weaned child I am content”. Is that something you can say?

The psalm changes gear in the final verse. From talking to God, the writer now talks to his fellow Israelites: “Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and for evermore”.

I think of that as an invitation rather than a command. And it is an invitation for us, the new “Israel”. God is our loving heavenly Father-and-mother. So trust him! rest in him! enjoy him!

Loving Father, please save me from a proud heart or haughty eyes. Please help me to want only the purpose you have for me in this earthly life – and so teach me what it means to be content. Amen.