Psalm Chapter 18

Psalm 18: The God Who Comes Down

What happens when a single human being, cornered by death, cries out to God? According to this psalm, the entire cosmos shudders in response. The earth shakes. The foundations of the hills tremble. Smoke pours from divine nostrils, fire from his mouth, and God — the God of all galaxies — rides down on a cherub through the darkness to rescue one man. This is not restrained theology; it is breathless, magnificent poetry from a man who has felt the grip of death loosen and is trying to find language large enough for what happened. David piles image upon image — rock, fortress, buckler, high tower, deliverer — because no single word will do. And buried in the torrent of cosmic rescue is a line of shocking gentleness: thy gentleness hath made me great. The same God who thundered in the heavens and shot out lightning is, at close range, gentle. This is the scandal of the psalm: that the most violent rescue in the Psalter is performed by the most tender hands. He drew me out of many waters — not with indifference, but with delight.

00:00 I Will Love Thee, O Lord
00:30 The Sorrows of Death
01:00 He Heard My Voice
01:30 The Earth Shook and Trembled
02:00 He Rode Upon a Cherub
02:30 Drawn Out of Many Waters
03:00 Recompensed in Righteousness
03:30 With the Merciful, Merciful
04:00 Feet Like Hinds' Feet
04:30 Girded with Strength
05:00 Head of the Nations
05:30 The Lord Liveth