Thrones: Psalm 122

Welcome! Today we will continue our look into the Psalms of Ascent, Psalms 120-134, today focusing on Psalm 122. We will also remember the Lord together with the bread and the cup, and following that we will gather in a circle and whoever wishes can share what the Lord has been teaching them.

When I was a child, one of the highlights of the year was when we as a family would get in the car and drive from our home in Pasadena, California northward to the resort called Mammoth Lakes, a town in the Sierra Mountains at about 9000 feet above sea level. The drive, somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 miles, took about 7 hours, accounting for stops. Now in Pasadena, it almost never snows – maybe once every 30 years the snow might stick around for an hour or so. We lived in a subdivision at the foot of the mountains north of Pasadena.  There was one mountain immediately in front of us that was lower than the ones behind it,  We were so close to it that this lower mountain blocked the view of the larger ones (the frequent smog sometimes blocked the view of them all). Anyway, that lower mountain got a dusting of snow from time to time, but it wouldn’t stick around very long and didn’t look very impressive even when it did.

But the Sierras were something else. They are amazing mountains, impossibly steep and jagged, and in the winter months, unless nature played a cruel trick on us, were completely covered in snow. The drive from Pasadena to Mammoth involved driving through a flat desert, a desert canyon, and then a long drive through a valley with the Sierras on the west and a lower, smoother mountain range on the east. At times we would pass by interesting volcanic formulations, including miles-long walls of lava that seemed to have suddenly turned to stone just as if the evil Queen of Narnia herself had used her magic wand to do it. The journey would pass through a town, go back into nothingness except for the road and the never-ending line of telephone poles, and repeat, on and on and on… for a child such as I, this seemed to go on forever.

But the farther we went, the more excited I became. You could see the snow far away on the Sierra crags, but eventually we would be in a snow-covered land, up high, where the air was freezing and the wind bit into your cheeks but you didn’t care. When late in the afternoon we actually got out of the car in the village of Mammoth, it was awesome. Snow! But what made it awesome was not the snow itself, but the thought that, the very next day, we would be skiing.

If you have never skied as a child, I’m not sure I can convey the wonder of it, how fantastic it is to go up in a chairlift or a gondola or a T-Bar and then shoot down the slope, seemingly defying the laws of physics as small motions cause great turns, as cutting sideways into the hill sends a wave of snow flying as high as your head. It was awesome – but I remember, even as a child, comparing the anticipation on the drive to the reality on the mountain and wondering, is there something else that makes the reality on the mountain seem like only the anticipation on the drive? Yes, I realize this may sound strange that a child would think this, but many people have said that being out in nature in spectacular places creates a kind of spiritual hunger, a hunger or taste or anticipation for something even greater – and I believe God was calling to me even in those days, whispering, “Yes! There is something greater! Me!”

C.S. Lewis gets at something similar in Surprised by Joy. He writes: “All joy reminds. It is never a possession, always a desire for something longer ago or further away or still ‘about to be.’” I think this is profound. Do you understand what he is saying? Have you experienced it? At your deepest core, even in times of pure delight, has something in you told you that this is only a shadow of something much, much better and deeper and more powerful and more wonderful? I believe that is God calling to you, telling you not to confuse the sign with the real thing. Suppose I and my family were driving to Mammoth Lakes and once they saw the first sign for it (still in the desert valley), we pulled over the car, set up camp, and had our vacation there?! The pleasures of this world do not produce real joy, ultimate joy; they only point to it.

I think one reason I’ve been thinking about these things is that I had another one of these kinds of experiences this week. On Monday and Tuesday, Isaac, Sarah, and I went down to Atlanta to join the LINC group there. Most of you know what LINC is, but in case you don’t, LINC – which stands for Leaders Impacting Nations for Christ – is a two-month summer program for college students hosted by members of some of our sister churches in the southeast. In the program, college students live together, during the week either take classes or work jobs, and mornings, evenings, and weekends, work together in ministry, cook meals together, pray together, worship together, are presented teachings (which is why I was there and what I did on Monday night) and in general grow in Christ together. But on Tuesday mornings, those who didn’t have to work go together to share their faith on the Georgia Tech campus. This past Tuesday, Isaac, Sarah, and I each teamed up with a member of LINC to do just that. This was the first time in many years that I was able to do this kind of thing on a college campus – I’m not really able to do this at Clemson, since I am employed there – but at another campus I’m no different than any other visitor. It was an awesome experience. I had prayed God would give me some atheists to talk to, and He did. Actually it was funny because, walking back afterwards, my partner who has been going every week commented that there were more atheists this time than ever before; I sheepishly told him, “Oh, that was me. I prayed for that.” 

We shared the gospel and bridge diagram with the first person we met, a Catholic who seemed really receptive, and then we proceeded to talk with various atheists, agnostics, people who think you are saved by works, and finally a strong Christian at the end. I could sense God giving me the words to say, the passages to bring up, analogies to explain things – I’m going to say it, this was better than skiing. And then, even better than all that was when after we got back to where we were staying, to be able to talk with Isaac and Sarah and hear about their experiences sharing the gospel and how much joy it gave them, and to marvel at what God has done in my family – that my own children find the same joy that I do in sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with lost sheep – this was way, way better than skiing. And yet – as I’ve thought about it this week –even this is only a sign, only a shadow, only a hint, of what we will find when we are at last and forever in the presence of Christ.  I am still on a journey – just like the drive from Pasadena to Mammoth, skiing brought me closer, and Tuesday’s experience at Georgia Tech brought me closer still, but I have not yet arrived.

The Psalms of Ascent are understood to be songs perhaps sung on a journey into Jerusalem and up the steps into the Temple courts and beyond. In Psalm 120, which we looked at last week, we find the verse “Woe to me that I dwell in Meshek, that I live among the tents of Kedar.” (Psalm 120:5) – the focus here is on a location far outside Jerusalem. And then in Psalm 121, which we also looked at, we find “I lift my eyes up to the mountains.” (Psalm 121:1) It is as if he is getting closer, approaching Jerusalem. And now look at the beginning of 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, Jerusalem. – Psalm 122:1-2

We are here! We’ve made it! The long journey is over! But yet, it’s not over…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. – Psalm 122:3-4

See, we’ve arrived at Mammoth, but we haven’t started skiing yet. See, we’ve shared the good news with the lost as a family, but we’re not in His presence yet, we’re not in heaven with Him yet. We have yet to go up, together with all the tribes, to praise the name of the Lord.

We do get a foretaste of this though, right here in church. Are we not a bunch of the tribes of the Lord? Is this not a good description of us? And we are here, together. I want to emphasize that word. The Israelites’ joy was multiplied by the fact that the tribes were gathered together to do this. I don’t know if you’ve thought about this, but over the years and decades and centuries, the tribes of Israel began to have their own bit of accents, their own preferences in clothing, their own ways of doing things. Some, on the coast, frequently fished. Those in the desert did not. Some primarily did farming. Some primarily raised livestock. In the New Testament, notice how everyone else seemed to immediately notice that the disciples were Galileans. I’m sure this process began much earlier. My point in all this is that God delights to bring together His worshipers from the ends of the earth. What we see here in Psalm 122 was only a shadow of what Christ is doing all over the world and will do when He returns. People from every tribe and nation and tongue will gather together to praise His name, the name of the Lord. And likewise what we have here in our church – people from different states, even different countries, various backgrounds, from the true southerners to the northern transplants, to weird people like me – but hey, at least I’m from Southern California! My point is that the joy and unity we have in one another worshiping the Lord, as we think about how God has blessed us to be the body of believers that we are together, as God continues to bless us and add to our number – all of this “reminds. It is never a possession.” The joy we feel is really a desire for the reality we can’t yet see creating the shadow we do see.   

There stand the thrones for judgment, the thrones of the house of David. – Psalm 122:5

What thrones is this talking about? Well, there was a throne that David sat in, and then Solomon made another throne. It may be that both were kept. The plural may instead be a “plural of majesty”; an example of this is the name Elohim, plural because of the “im”, which is a plural ending, one of the names of God. In any case, Solomon’s throne is described in I Kings 10:

Then the king made a great throne covered with ivory and overlaid with fine gold. The throne had six steps, and its back had a rounded top. On both sides of the seat were armrests, with a lion standing beside each of them. Twelve lions stood on the six steps, one at either end of each step. Nothing like it had ever been made for any other kingdom. – I Kings 10:18-20

The twelve lions were symbolic of the twelve tribes of Israel. Twelve, yet all lions, symbolic of the lion of the tribe of Judah – that is, Christ. I think this is a great picture; all the tribes are “in Christ,” in the Lion.

Thrones are a recurring theme throughout the Bible. Notice the similarities in the visions of Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel:

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of His robe filled the temple. Above Him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of His glory.” At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke. “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined… - Isaiah 6:1-5a

Spread out above the heads of the living creatures was what looked something like a vault, sparkling like crystal, and awesome. Under the vault their wings were stretched out one toward the other, and each had two wings covering its body. When the creatures moved, I heard the sound of their wings, like the roar of rushing waters, like the voice of the Almighty, like the tumult of an army. When they stood still, they lowered their wings. Then there came a voice from above the vault over their heads as they stood with lowered wings. Above the vault over their heads was what looked like a throne of lapis lazuli, and high above on the throne was a figure like that of a man. I saw that from what appeared to be His waist up He looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire, and that from there down He looked like fire; and brilliant light surrounded Him. Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around Him. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell facedown …– Ezekiel 1:22-29

As I looked, thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took His seat. His clothing was as white as snow; the hair of His head was white like wool. His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were all ablaze. A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before Him. Thousands upon thousands attended Him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him. The court was seated, and the books were opened. […] In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into His presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed. I, Daniel, was troubled in spirit… - Daniel 7:9-10, 13a

I share these awesome images because they remind me that the best is yet to come – that He is so holy, so powerful, so beautiful, so terrible (if I may use the word in a good sense) that we will think we cannot possibly stand before Him. And we won’t – we’ll bow, tears streaming from our eyes. But He will wipe away every tear. Our joy will find its fulfillment in Him.

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 family 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. – Psalm 122:6-9

Back to our Psalmist. Back to Jerusalem. Our traveler is so awestruck by arriving in Mammoth, I mean Jerusalem, that it leads him to pray for its peace and security. I like how he says “for the sake of my family and friends” – it is the joy of these relationships, the love he has for them, that motivates him to pray for peace and security. Does your love for your family and friends, for those of our church body, motivate you to pray? Does your joy lead to prayer? It should.

As we turn to remembering the Lord with the bread and the cup, I want to talk about another throne we see in Scripture – the cover of the ark of the covenant, also called the mercy seat. Inside the ark was the two stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments as well as the golden pot of manna and Aaron’s rod that had budded. The ark was the most sacred object in the temple in Jerusalem, and it resided in the innermost area of the temple called the Holy of Holies. The mercy seat was where the Spirit of God rested in the temple. It was a seat, or throne, for the Spirit. From this place God dispensed mercy to man when the blood of the atonement was sprinkled there.

Once each year, the high priest would purify himself, enter the Holy of Holies, and sprinkle the blood of animals sacrificed for the atonement of the sins of the people on the mercy seat. Think about the symbolism: the blood covered the cover of the Law; in a way it concealed the people from the condemning judgment of the Law. The Greek word for the mercy seat (used in Hebrews 9) is hilasterion. This word is used only one other time in Scripture: in Romans 3. In the passage, I’ve underlined where this word appears.

Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by the works of the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of our sin. But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement through the shedding of His blood—to be received by faith. – Rom. 3:19-25

That is, God presented Christ as a mercy seat, as a throne, for us. “All joy reminds. It is never a possession, always a desire for something longer ago or further away or still ‘about to be’.” The joy of our salvation reminds us that it is Jesus Christ who has done everything for us. He is the blood. He is our mercy seat. He is our forgiveness of sin. He is our future. He is our King.

C.S. Lewis also wrote in Surprised by Joy, that as believers even joy is not our goal, Christ is. Speaking of joy as an end unto itself, Lewis writes “When we are lost in the woods, the sight of a signpost is a great matter… but when we have found the road and are passing signposts every few miles, we shall not stop and stare. They will encourage us and we shall be grateful to the authority that set them up. But we shall not stop and stare, or not much; not on this road, though their pillars are of silver and their lettering of gold. We would be at Jerusalem.” That is, our hearts, mind, and will are focused only on Jerusalem. And our Jerusalem is Christ.

I encourage you now to spend some time remembering the Lord with bread and the cup, as He Himself instructed us to do. Pour out your heart to Him – confess to Him, thank Him, praise Him, worship Him. He is our all in all.