Psalm 119.94
4 March, 2007

It has been my custom to preach on baptism whenever we celebrate this
sacrament. So, having baptized Evangeline this morning, I will renew that
tradition. I hope that you can see that this is not some empty tradition.
There are many great blessing tied to baptism, blessings that we all need to
embrace whole-heartedly so that we might serve Jesus better and thus enjoy
what it means to be His. Our text is simple. There is no confusing language
here, no difficult theology. Yet, though simple, this portion of God’s Word
holds profound and precious truths for us. And while it may take a little
bit before we actually get to talking about baptism, never fear, we’ll get
there.

Let’s start with this. The psalmist is calling out for help. Why? It must be
that he is in some sort of trouble. This provides opportunity for me to
remind of an important theme of the Scriptures. Being a disciple of Jesus is
hard. Paul told some young Christians, ‘It is through many tribulations that
we must enter the kingdom of God.’ Last week we sang ‘Am I a Soldier of the
Cross’, a good picture of Jesus’ call to endure trouble faithfully. And
these troubles come from every direction. Some come from the remaining sin
in our own hearts, others from Satan and his demons. And all troubles come
from God as He puts our faith to the test in the hope of strengthening that
faith. Right away, we can identify with the psalmist. He is dealing with the
struggles of being a faithful disciple, just like we do.

Next, note the psalmist’s response. He cries out. Our text is a prayer to
God in response to some trouble. Now, you might be thinking that this is
pretty obvious. Why do I bother to mention it? I mention it because all too
often our response to trouble is something other than crying out to God.
Instead, we worry, try to figure out some brilliant plan to deal with this
trouble, we despair or try to ignore the whole thing. But what does the
psalmist do? He cries out to God. One of my goals for you is that crying out
to God would become a knee-jerk reaction to the troubles that you face;
prayer instead of any of those sinful responses.

Now, I’m going to raise what will sound like an odd question. Will this do
any good? That sounds odd, doesn’t it? It does until I say that most people,
including those who do pray, answer with a ‘No’. ‘I prayed about my lousy
boss, and God hasn’t changed anything.’ ‘My health is bad, it has been bad
and it’s going to stay bad. God hasn’t done anything about it, and He
probably won’t.’ ‘My life stinks and none of my prayers have made a
difference. So, this is just how it’s going to be. I just have to learn how
to deal with it.’ Now, most people don’t say these words – though many do –
but they believe them on an emotional level. They pray expecting nothing.
So, back to my question. Does praying do any good? Well, if you mean ‘If I
pray will Jesus change my life in some way that I want?’, then the answer is
a clear ‘No’. Jesus is no one’s magic wand. But if you mean, ‘If I pray will
Jesus act for my good, rescuing me from the death that is at the heart of
this trouble?’, then the answer is a hearty ‘Yes’. And He will do that in
ways that will amaze you. So, you see, crying out is a function of belief.
If you believe Jesus when He tells you He cares about you and will act and
amaze you, exceeding your wildest dreams, then you will cry out. If you don’
t believe Him, then you won’t. The psalmist believes Jesus. That’s why he
cries out. I believe Jesus. I have cried out and I have seen Him act. And He
has amazed me, using great evil for even greater good.

Let’s move on. Did you notice that when the psalmist cries out, he does so
boldly? We do not read, ‘Well, Lord, if you can see Your way clear, it would
be kinda nice if you could give me a hand.’ What do we read? ‘Save me!!’
[Comment to my readers: This is one of the places where you really need to
see a sermon being preached and not just read it.] I remember being invited
over to the home of some friends for dinner. The husband was one of the
elders of the church that Linda and I were members of. [This is before
children – a long time ago.] Preparations for dinner were getting a little
too chaotic and things just weren’t falling into place at all well. So,
Anne, our hostess, right in the midst of all of this just about shouts,
‘Lord, do something!!’ Anne must have read our text. The psalmist is almost
brash. He cries out boldly and with expectation. This is no mealy-mouthed
wish. The psalmist cries out, ‘Save me!!’ Here is an example to ponder.

Now, how is it that our psalmist can be so confident, so bold? Is it because
he’s had some special experience reserved for the few? Does he have some
special ability that can be gained only after many years of disciplined
effort? There must be something that makes the psalmist different from the
rest of us, something special that gives him this boldness, right? Well, no.
He gives us the reason for his confident boldness. He tells us why he prays
in the way that he does, expecting Jesus to act. What does he say? ‘I am
Yours; save me.’ I remember this time my younger brother and I went to some
department store with my mother. She was looking at some things on sale.
Another woman there knocks over my brother. He’s something like four years
old at the time. My mother speaks to the woman, probably asking her to be
more careful or the like. The woman tells my mother that it is my brother
who should be more careful and watch out for her. That was the wrong thing
to say. Have I told you before that my mother was a strong-willed Puerto
Rican, born and bred in New York City? [God tamed her over time, but this
was before she was converted.] I have this image – fifty years old by now –
of my mother nose to nose with this woman saying, with quite a bit of heat,
something like, ‘So, since you’re smaller than I am does that you need to
watch out for me?!?’ My brother is knocked down. He cries out. My mother
immediately takes action. Why? That’s her child. The bad response of that
other woman sends my mother into attack mode to protect her child. Is your
God any different when it comes to caring for His children? Is He more
‘reasonable’ in that wimpy sense? Life knocks you down. You cry out. What
does God hear? He hears one of His children and He acts. Or do you think
that my mother was a better parent than your God is? Who can cry out like
the psalmist and expect God to respond? You can. And the reason is clear.
You can because you are His.

The only way that you can cry out with bold confidence like the psalmist is
if you are convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are His. It’s
here that some of you have such struggles. ‘How do I know that I’m His? How
can I be sure?’ Consider a wedding. The key part of any wedding is the vows.
You can leave out a lot, but as long as you have the ‘Do you’, ‘I do’, you’
ve still got a wedding. It’s at that point that everything changes. Two
people are now joined together by God. Because of those vows, these two are
now Mr. and Mrs. A new relationship exists which did not before those vows.
That’s what happens in baptism. By baptism a new relationship is
established. Because of her baptism, Evangeline is now a child of God. Now,
please note this. Does saying ‘I do’ create that new relationship all on its
own? Are these magic words? No. God creates and establishes that new
relationship. It’s just that He uses vows as a tool to that end. Likewise,
there is no magic in baptism. It doesn’t create this new relationship on its
own. God creates it. It’s just that He uses baptism as tool. There is,
however, a very important difference between wedding vows and baptism. In a
wedding both sides do something. Both sides have to act by their vows for
there to be a marriage relationship created. In her baptism, Evangeline was
totally passive. This is a reflection of the simple yet profound fact that
our relationship with the Father is because of the grace of Jesus in the
Gospel. It’s all about grace. Evangeline is now a child of God, and she has
done nothing to cause that. We have such a hard time with grace but there it
is. As she grows, she will be taught to cry out to Jesus. When confronted by
one of life’s many troubles she will cry out, ‘Save me!’ If doubt comes
because of an over-active conscience or the schemes of the evil one, if the
questions come, ‘Can I do this? Will Jesus hear and care? But I’ve been such
a terrible sinner! What if the problem is my own fault?’ then this is how
she needs to respond. ‘I AM YOURS! Save me! And I know that I am Yours
because You promised that to me. You promised that to me at my baptism. The
promise flowed into my heart even as the water flowed over my head.’ And it
is her bold crying out that is evidence of her faith in the promise. Her
hope is not that she is good enough, wise enough, or in any other way worthy
of Jesus responding to her prayer. Her hope is our text. ‘I am Yours; save
me.’ And she knows that this is true because of her baptism.

My goal here is simple. I want each one of you to be able to cry out to
Jesus just like the psalmist did. That means crying out instead of all of
the other sorry responses we all fall into. That means crying out boldly,
instead of almost apologizing to Jesus for disturbing Him. That means crying
out actually expecting Jesus to act, just as a child expects his mother to
act when he cries out in need. And the reason that you can do all of this is
because of what Jesus did at your baptism. He promised!