Hope in God. His forgiveness reaches deep.

I’m not afraid of the ocean per se. I’m happy to go to the beach and swim in the waves. I’ve flown over it before and it doesn’t bother me. But I will admit, the thought of swimming out in the deep sea does make me quite uneasy. It takes a certain kind of courage to do that. Usually when you see a video of someone jumping out of a boat into the ocean, they’re a thousand miles out to see and there is not a single other boat around them. It’s just them. One boat. All alone as far as the eye can see. Then they’re jumping into water that is so deep it’s impossible to know what’s beneath them. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but I think at that moment I’d have an acute awareness of them.

Being in the sea isn’t really scary. But being in the deep sea is a different story. It’s a place that can feel you are beyond the reaches of salvation. Even if someone from the shore wanted to rescue you, it would be extremely difficult to get to you and even more difficult to find you. And it’s not infrequent for us to have this sense of being beyond the reaches of salvation with the Lord. Our psalm this morning is going to show us how deep God’s forgiveness reaches.

Main Point – Hope in God. His forgiveness reaches deep.

Prayer

Psalm 130 offers us two truths that will point to the depth of God’s forgiveness. Followed by two responses. We’ll look at the two truths followed by the two responses. But immediately our psalm begins by painting a bleak picture.

Truth #1 – We are all in the depths (vs. 1-2)

READ VS 1-2

Our psalmist opens with a very honest assessment of where he is. “I’m crying to you out of the depths.” This word refers to the ocean depths. We’re talking somewhere that is inconceivably low. If you accidentally drop your keys into your pool. Through a little frustration and effort you could swim down and recover them. If you drop your keys into the ocean’s depths, there isn’t a force on earth that could ever draw them back up for you again. They’re gone.

And it is this place that the author says he is in, the depths. It’s a place that each of us have visited at some point. There are some who have visited the depths more often than others. Some people might even say that they feel as if they have lived in the depths for much of their lives. It’s a place of desperation.

This image of being in the depths is so appropriate because it communicates so many things. First, it communicates the hopelessness experienced by the person. I’m lost and will not be found again. It also communicates isolation. Being in the depths is a place where you are completely alone. In Psalm 88, the author also describes himself as being in the depths and he says, “Darkness is my only friend”. In the depths you feel despair and you feel so horribly alone. No one understands you. No one has experienced what you have experienced. You’re alone. Everyone you know feels miles above you, over the surface of the water, but you are isolated in the deep with no one but darkness.

The depths also communicate feeling crushed. In the ocean, as your descent continues the weight of all the water on you piles up. It becomes so heavy that regardless of whether or not you have access to air, your body can’t handle the pressure and is crushed.

Despair. Isolation. Crushing weight. This sounds a lot like something today we might call depression, a word that’s literal meaning it to be pushed down. This psalmist is crying out to God because he’s had a bad day. He lost his phone or his car broke down.. He’s crying out from the depths. It may be that it took him quite some time to arrive at this place. Slowly over the course of weeks or months he continued to despair. He continued to lose hope. He steadily distanced himself from others. And now here he finds himself at the bottom of the ocean.

How did he get here? There’s no single common cause that is responsible for all people who are in the depths. But this psalm mentions a common one. We see in the rest of the psalm that his great problem is his iniquities or his sins. And his great solution is for forgiveness.

Now, I would never be so foolish as to claim that if you feel you are in the depths it is most certainly a result of your own personal sin. Sin has affected this world in such a way that even when we are not guilty of something specific, the nature of a fallen world can still have a crushing effect on us. But I also would not be so foolish as to say that if you are in the depths it cannot be because of your sin. This psalm seems to be an example of someone who sinned and as a result of their sin they are being crushed.

Let’s illustrate this with an extreme example and then work our way backward to show how this might be true. Someone who has committed violent crimes and is now imprisoned for life may come to the point where they recognize they are in the depths. They sit in their cell and they feel an intense despair, isolation, and crushing weight. But as they consider how they arrived here, they can see the choices they made that resulted in it. If God is gracious to them, they may recognize the pride in their life through which they thought they were above the law. They thought they would never face the consequences of their actions. They thought they would be safe though they walked in the stubbornness of their hearts. It is their own sinfulness that has brought them here.

I fear that in a similar fashion there are times when we bring this crushing weight on ourselves as well. We find ourselves exhausted and overwhelmed. We are alone and not truly known by anyone. We don’t see joy and hopefulness in our future, but a life sentence. Is it possible that our choices have brought us here? Have we lived with such pride that we thought we could go more and do more than everyone else? Did we hear the warnings of others telling us to slow down and to take a break and we didn’t listen? Did we think we could make foolish decisions about what we put into our bodies, yet we would somehow be the exception and would be unaffected by it? Have we thought that we could walk away from God, from his church, and from his word, and though other people might need those things, we’re the exception to the rules? Did we think we would be safe though we walked in the stubbornness of our hearts? And now we’ve reached the depths.

But even in the depths, our psalmist recognizes an immense truth. He is at the lowest point he has ever been. He’s deep in the ocean. And God, God is far away. He is high above the highest heavens. The distance between God and this person appears to be insurmountable. Yet, he cries out to God, knowing that despite the great distance. God can still hear him.

READ VS 1-2

There’s a desperation here in his voice. I hope you can recognize it. It’s the desperation of a man who knows there is nothing he can do to resolve his problems on his own. Every person he was close with has left him. Every idol he thought would help him recover has failed him. Every strength and ability he had has become worthless. There is only one hope for him now. If the one who is perfectly strong turns his attention towards him and shows him mercy. He is pleading for mercy.

Let me say this very dogmatically. If you have not arrived at this point and made this call for mercy, then you are not a Christian. Because this is what entrance into the Christian life looks like. Becoming a Christian is not when you think, “I’m doing pretty well, I bet God would be glad to have me on his team.” It’s not when you think to yourself, “I’ll make a deal with you God. I spend my life doing a bunch of good things for people, then when I die you bring me into heaven.” The entrance into Christianity is when you realize, I am hopeless. I am dead. I have drowned. Have mercy on me God. And you do so with confidence that though God seems so far from where you are, he will hear you and he will respond in graciousness. And we don’t abandon this attitude after accepting Christ. We keep it. We live in recognition that without God’s grace, I will sink.

It’s this graciousness that the author highlights after he calls to the Lord.

Truth #2 – With God there is forgiveness (vs. 3-4)

READ VS 3-4

I was reading a book on marriage recently and the author told the story of a couple who was in marriage counseling. They were experiencing strong bitterness and resentment toward one another. When the counselor asked the wife why she felt resentful towards her husband, she said, “This is why”. And she pulled out an enormous notebook where she had written down every wrong that her husband had done to her over the years of their marriage. She had quite literally kept a record of wrongs.

And that’s what this phrase “mark iniquities” means. It means counting up all the wrongs done against him and holding you accountable for every one of them. This wife had a notebook. God’s book would be quite bigger. How could you possibly withstand that type of judgment? Let’s say it only came from your spouse. They wrote down every cross word you ever said. Every time you failed to show them love. They recorded every cold shoulder, every raised voice, and every rude comment. I would have a sizable book.

What if your family had also been keeping a book? They had kept it ever since you were a child. They recorded every tantrum you threw, every act of selfishness, every defiant rebellion, every shouted word, and every lie. I don’t know if you remember how embarrassingly foolish you were as a child, but I certainly do. A notebook isn’t going to cut it anymore. I’m going to need a thick 3-ring binder.

And what if on top of the record your spouse and your family kept, you friends and coworkers kept a book. Each inappropriate joke, each bit of gossip, every moment of laziness, and every foul word were written down in ink. You can see how if the people who knew you recorded absolutely every sin you committed, you would be crushed under the weight of it.

But this enormous stack of binders and notebooks doesn’t even put a dent into the record God has. He sees your secret sins. He knows what you do when others aren’t around. He knows what you watch, what you read, and what you say in the dark. He knows our thoughts. He counts every time we sin boldly in our minds right in front of other people because there is no way they’ll ever know my thoughts. I’m not sure how this is possible, but he can count each of our sinful attitudes. He knows what our general sinful disposition is towards people who don’t look like us. He knows our distaste for obeying his commands. He knows the bitterness we hold onto in our hearts. If he were to count these in a book, how massive would it be? But does he do that? Does God keep a record of every wrong we’ve ever committed and record them somewhere with some sort of permanent ink?

It would appear that he does. Look at Revelation 20 with me.

“Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. From his presence earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened… And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. And the sea gave up the dead who were in it… and they were judged, each one of them, according to what they had done.  - Revelation 20:11-14

There is such a book. And it’s dreadful. It’s one that we would hope would never see the light of day. Yet God says the day comes when the book will be opened. It will be read publicly. And we will receive a just sentence for every single item listed.

Who will be able to stand on that day? When the judge reads the crimes, what will our defense be? We won’t be able to deny any of it. It’s true. It’s all true! You might come up with some plausible sounding excuses for a few of them - oh I was tired that day or I was hungry or that person had really been pushing me too far and they set me off. But what percentage of the millions of recorded instances will you be able to mount an acceptable defense for?

The Revelation passage goes on to describe everyone whose works are read in this way as being thrown into the lake of fire, into Hell. No one will be able to defend themselves.

“If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?”

This isn’t a problem for some people, only the worst sinners. This is clearly a problem for every one of us. But the next verse is such a sweet deliverance.

“But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.”

I’m convinced that the entire psalm hinges on this truth. I would even be so bold to say that the entire Bible hinges on this truth. We have more than earned our place in Hell, but there’s forgiveness. Somehow, some way God says, I’m not going to hold this record against you. I’m not going to make you accountable for every one of these things.

And look at verse 4 again, he says “With you there is forgiveness, SO THAT you may be feared.” That’s an odd response to forgiveness right? You would expect the response to be thankfulness or joy. But instead it’s jaw-dropping awe. Bewilderment. An act so great that it puts us in a speechless daze that it could ever be done. What kind of forgiveness is this? The book of Micah says it this way:

“He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities underfoot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.” - Micah 7:19

That’s the place where we were, at the bottom of the sea, crushed by our own sins. And yet we’re removed from those depths somehow and our sins remain there. How does this happen? Perhaps you could imagine the image of God reaching his long arm deep into the bottom of the ocean, picking up a sinner in his great hand and brushing off all of the heavy weights, anchors, and burdens that weigh them down. Then he draws them up out of the sea and places them on dry ground.

Only that’s not how it happened. God didn’t reach his arm out of heaven to save us. But became a small, fragile, mortal man. He stepped off of his throne and instead of reaching into the depths, he dove in. He held his breath and he swam down into the dark. He swam straight into the danger. He found you. But instead of brushing off the weights bearing you down, he wanted to be certain that they could never be drawn up and entangle you again. So he takes the weights off of you. He takes the anchors and burdens that you had put on yourself and that had caused you to sink. He places every one of them on himself. And he allows the ocean floor to open itself and swallow him up along with our sins.

When you surface from the water and you climb onto a rescue boat are you not in awe? This is such forgiveness that it causes us to fear. Who is this man? Why would he do something like that for me? He’s Jesus Christ. And he does this because he’s good.

I’ve spent a lot of time describing the depths of our sins because if you don’t understand how much you’ve been forgiven, you won’t be in awe of the Lord. Jesus said the one who is forgiven much loves much, but the one who is forgiven little loves little. Our life is a story of the depths of Christ’s forgiveness. The Bible is a story of the depths of Christ’s forgiveness. And when we recognize that there’s an awe that comes on our hearts, a gratitude beyond words, and an immense love for the one who has immensely saved.

Your book has been thrown into the depths of the sea. When the day of judgment comes and the Lord turns to open it, there will be nothing there. Only a small note, with your name, that says “Sins paid for. Saved by Christ.”

The psalmist has drawn out for us two truths, that we are all in the depths and yet with God there is forgiveness and in the rest of the psalm he’s going to offer two responses to those truths.

Response #1 – Wait for the Lord, hope in His Word (vs. 5-6)

READ VS 5-6

The author says he’s crying out to God for forgiveness. He knows that the Lord forgives. And yet now it says that he’s waiting. What’s he waiting for? Has he not yet been forgiven? Do we ask God to forgive our sins and then he takes his time in responding? Maybe he’ll forgive us in a couple months or in a couple of years.

No. I believe this man has already been forgiven. God immediately saves those who call on him. So what is it that he’s waiting for? Though we’ve been saved from the penalty of our sins, it’s still very clear that the effects of sin are all around us. We’re still tempted. We’re still drawn towards sin. We still make sinful decisions. We still suffer the effects of our sin and others sins. We still worry and fear and doubt.

But the day comes when all of those will be removed entirely. Death will be no more. Tears will be no more. Sin will be no more. The psalmist has experienced incredible deliverance, but God’s not done. There is still more to come. He says in verse 5, “in his word, I hope”. Which word is he talking about? Simply, he’s talking about every promise God has ever made. Any of the ones that haven’t yet come to pass. He’s challenging us to open up God’s Word. Find anything God promises will happen that hasn’t happened yet, even the most outlandish ones.

“I will strengthen you and help you” Ok. I don’t feel strong and helped right now, but that one's still coming. “Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted”. I don’t feel comforted right now. Instead, I’m still mourning. But I’m waiting for this one too. I know it’s coming. “Humble yourself before the Lord and he will exalt you.” I’ve been trying to act gentle and meek and submissive to those who lead me for a long time and there has been no exaltation. But I’ll continue to wait. I’ll continue to be patient. If God is so good as to be able to accomplish such a massive salvation, surely he can keep each of these promises.

And I love the image he uses of a watchman waiting for the morning. The watchman stands on the wall of the city. He has to stay awake all night when he’d rather be sleeping. It’s boring. It’s tedious. But he has to remain extremely vigilant the whole time. He’s drifting off to sleep. He’s doing anything in his power to stay awake and hold on a bit longer. And the whole time he’s thinking, “When will that sun rise? When will that sun finally rise?” He just has to keep holding on until the sun rises and his work is done. He can finally rest.

Let me tell you what he’s not wondering. He’s not thinking, “I wonder if the sun will rise this morning. Maybe I’ll be stuck in this position forever. Why should I bother staying awake? Why should I bother fighting? There’s no hope coming.” No. No watchman has ever thought that. The rising of the sun each morning is one of the very few things in this life that you can be absolutely certain will happen every time.  There is no chance the sun will not rise.

And it’s with this certainty that the psalmist views every one of God’s promises. He’s the great deliverer. He’s the one who swims to the depths of the sea to save. There is nothing that could possibly stop him from fulfilling every one of his words. “So go ahead and look”, he says. Open God’s word. See what he says he will do for you. Then keep being vigilant. Keep guarding the wall. And wait for his word with the same certainty that you wait for the morning.

Finally he ends his song with one more response we should have to God’s great kindness.

Response #2 – Call others to hope (vs. 7-8)

READ VS 7-8

The rest of the psalm has been about the psalmist’s personal interactions with God, but now he turns to everyone around him and says, “This is for you too!” Because he’s experienced such massive blessing and forgiveness from the Lord. He can’t help but share it with those around him. He almost reviews the whole psalm in microcosm.

Israel, call out to the Lord! Let him hear your pleas for mercy! For with him there is forgiveness. There is steadfast love. There is redemption. And then wait patiently because he will absolutely redeem you! Just as sure as the morning comes.

This psalm gives each of us a responsibility. And each of us is sitting here in a different place. For those who are in the depths our call is to wait. To place our hope in God. To call out to him with the certainty that he will arrive like the morning. And for those of us who have experienced God’s great deliverance, and we have the confidence that God keeps his promises, find those who don’t. Find those who are struggling and share that confidence with them. Tell them your story. Tell them how God saved you from the depths. Call them to hope. Christ didn’t save you so that you could keep it to yourself.

Our sin has sunken us to depths that are far greater than we could ever know, but Jesus Christ has provided a salvation more immense than we could ever imagine. If the Lord should mark our iniquities, who could stand? But with him there is forgiveness so that he may be feared. Hope in God. His forgiveness reaches deep.

Prayer