Please turn in your Bibles to Psalm 84, Psalm 84. And as we come to God's word, let me pray for us. Father, our souls long for you, the living God, and so we pray that you would now satisfy us with your word. For we pray this in Jesus' name. He who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever praised. Amen. Psalm 84. To the choir master, according to the Gittith, a Psalm of the sons of Korah. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young. At your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God, Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise. Selah. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose hearts are the highways to Zion. As they go through the valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs. The early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength until each one appears before God in Zion. O Lord, God of hosts, hear my prayer. Give ear, O God of Jacob. Selah. Behold our shield, O God. Look on the face of your anointed. For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and shield. The Lord bestows fever and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. Oh, Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you. Grass withers, the flowers fade, but the word of our God endures forever. C.S. Lewis once said, if I find in myself desires that nothing in this world can satisfy, then the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world. Augustine said, oh God, you made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. Those two quotes by C.S. Lewis and Augustine, they capture the heartbeat of the Christian life, longing for another world, longing for God. Different parts of the Bible bring this out in an intense way. The heartbeat for another world, for God, it's always there in the Bible, but in some parts it's more pronounced than others. A bit like our own heartbeat. It's always there, but sometimes it's more elevated than other times. Boys and girls, do you know what it's like when you run up and down the stairs at home? You can feel your heart racing. And if you put your two fingers on the inside of your wrist, you can feel the blood pumping through your veins. Well, that's like certain parts of the Bible. At certain points, the human longing for another world, the human longing for God is beating strong. It's pulsating away. Just think of the patriarchs in Genesis. Abraham's called to leave his home and go to another country. And when he gets there, what do we find him living in? A tent. And he never changes his abode till the day he dies, Abraham lives in a tent. Same with Isaac and Jacob. They both live in tents. Here was this promised land of Edenic paradise that had been given to them by God and none of the patriarchs ever put a shovel in the ground. They never built a house. They only ever pitched tents. Our responsive reading this morning captured it. By faith, Abraham went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. Do you see the patriarchs' faith in action? They lived in tents. They saw themselves as strangers and pilgrims on the earth. They lived loosely to this world and longingly for another world. That's how Hebrews 11 describes them. They were strangers and exiles on the earth, pilgrims looking for a homeland, longing for a better country, a heavenly one. Just think of when Sarah dies and Abraham has to purchase a piece of land from the Hittites for her grave. Do you remember what he says? I am a sojourner and stranger among you. So can I please buy a piece of land to bury my wife? You know what's so surprising about those words from Abraham? He says them after he's been living in the land 62 years. 62 years, I am a sojourner and a stranger among you. Jacob speaks the same way. When he arrives in Egypt and Pharaoh asks him his age, he replies, his age has been 130 year long sojourn. For Jacob, his life and that of his fathers, Isaac and Abraham, Terah and Shem, Noah and Seth, it was one long sojourn. They were pilgrims in this world. They could have sung with Jim Reeves, this world is not my home, I'm just a passing through. They were homesick for another world. They were homesick for God. They had desires in them that nothing in this world could satisfy, as C.S. Lewis said. They were restless for God, as Augustine said. the period of the patriarchs living in their tents. It's one of those parts of the Bible where the heartbeat for heaven is pumping strong, where the pulse beat for God is pulsating away. Another part of the Old Testament that captures this heartbeat for another world, this pulse beat for God, is the annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Each year, there were various festivals that were held in Jerusalem. The Feast of Passover, the Feast of Pentecost, the Feast of Tabernacles. And in each case, the Israelites would travel from wherever they lived to go up to Jerusalem, up to the temple, to make sacrifices, to pay their tithes, to meet with God. The temple symbolized God's dwelling place on earth. The temple in Jerusalem was like heaven on earth in microcosm. And so these pilgrimages to Jerusalem became a regular reminder to the Israelites that Canaan was not really their home. That they had a home beyond Canaan, somewhere better than Canaan. There was God's dwelling place. there was God himself. And Psalm 84 is set in the context of these annual pilgrimages to the temple. And as such, it is another moment in the Bible when the heartbeat for heaven, when the pulse beat for God is elevated. Because this psalm strips away all the pomp and ceremony of the feasts at the temple, and it gets to the very heart of what these pilgrimages were about. They were about getting to God's house. They were about getting to God. Look at verse 5. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. Verse seven, they go from strength to strength. Each one appears before God in Zion. The pilgrimages were regular reminders to Israel that this world was not their home. They were just a passing through. Their ultimate destination was heaven, of which the temple was a little taste on earth. And if Psalm 84 does anything for us this morning, it's this. It shows us that this world is not our home. We're just a passing through. It shows us that we're strangers and exiles, sojourners and pilgrims. It orientates us to heaven. It orientates us to God. And it does this in three ways. Number one, a longing for heaven, a longing for God. A longing for heaven, a longing for God, verses one to four. Now, keep in mind that God's temple in Jerusalem was a symbol of heaven. It was a microcosm of heaven on earth. Keep that in mind as I now read verse one and two again. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts. My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. The word lovely in verse one does not mean that God's dwelling place is lovely looking. though I'm sure that it was. But if that's what the psalmist meant, it's a bit strange that he doesn't go on to describe God's dwelling place. There are no descriptions of the temple in Psalm 84. Rather, the word lovely here means something more like lovable. How lovable is your dwelling place? Oh, how I love your dwelling place. That's what the psalmist means. And his love for God's dwelling place is seen in his intense longing for it, verse two. Two opposite descriptions for this one intense longing. He faints for God's dwelling place. The blood rushes from his body in a kind of craving. And then his heart and his flesh, that is his whole person, sings for joy. Now the blood rushes back if you like, because you can't sing if you're feeling faint. These two polar opposite physical experiences, fainting and singing, together they capture the one intense longing for God's dwelling place. Being with God in his temple courts is this psalmist's one consuming passion. It's also His one amazing privilege, verses 3 and 4. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise. The sparrow is blessed to dwell in his house. The swallow is blessed to dwell in his house. The sons of Korah are blessed to dwell in his house. But why the mention of the sparrows and the swallows? It's a bit curious because they're not of any real significance in Israel. They weren't the national bird. They weren't on the national emblem. Boys and girls, if I was to ask you, what's the national bird of United States of America? My wife's from Australia, sorry. It's the emu. Because it can't walk backwards. Advance Australia Fair. But the United States of America, what's the bird? It's the bald eagle. Because it's a symbol of power and strength and speed. It's the king of the sky. But a sparrow, a swallow, what's significant about them? Well, nothing. And that's the point. Even the sparrow and the swallow find a home in God's house. I think the psalmist chooses to speak about them because he likens himself to them. which is why the my king and my God at the end of verse three makes sense. He's talking about himself being like a sparrow, like a swallow, insignificant, and yet he gets to dwell in God's house. Because in the grand scheme of things, the sons of Korah were insignificant. In fact, we might say they were undeserving. They should never have been lied near the courts of the Lord. Because decades earlier, their great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, Korah, had rebelled against Moses and Aaron and caused a rebellion in Israel. And yet, God did not punish the sons of Korah for their father's sin. The sons of Korah were sons of a sinful man, but they were still welcome in God's house. But more than that, they were insignificant in Israel as a nation. Yes, they had the privilege of being the doorkeepers, the gatekeepers at the temple courts, but they weren't the sons of Aaron who could go right into the holy place in the temple. And of the 22,000 Levites who served at the temple, the sons of Korah only made up 212 of the Levites. It's less than 1%. That's how insignificant they were. And yet, despite being undeserving sinners, despite being insignificant Levites, God let them serve in his courts. He let them dwell there, just like he let the sparrows and the swallows dwell near his altars. This is why this psalmist uses that beautiful Bible word, Blessed. Verse four, blessed are those who dwell in your house ever singing your praise. The sparrows are blessed, the swallows are blessed, the sons of Korah are blessed. because they get to dwell in his house ever singing his praise. It's the picture of the sons of Korah leading the people in procession and singing at the festivals while the sparrows and the swallows chirp away in the background. Now remember what the temple symbolized. It was a symbol of heaven on earth, which means there's a challenge and a comfort for us this morning. The challenge is that Psalm 84 is a picture of the church on earth gathering together as the temple of God singing his praises. Which means we need to ask ourselves how our hearts line up with the heart of this psalmist. John Calvin said, the Psalms are like a mirror to the soul. They reflect what's in our souls, the longings, the desires, the sorrows. But like a mirror, they're also exposing. And that's what this psalm does this morning. It exposes our hearts. And it makes us ask the question, do I long for the courts of the Lord of hosts like this psalmist? Is coming to church more a drudgery than a delight? More a burden than a blessing? That's the challenge. Remember one Sunday morning, my two little children, Zach and Hannah, said, we don't wanna go to church. It's boring. Of course, none of your children would ever say that. Well, I got down and I eyeballed them and I said, Zach and Hannah, Never say the church is boring. It's the best thing we get to do all week. It's a blessing. That's the challenge. Do we view it as that? But there's also a comfort. Remember the temple was a symbol of heaven on earth, which means that the real symbolism of this psalm points us upwards to heaven, to the church, triumphant in heaven. who get to sing God's praises continually. Did you notice the little word, ever? In verse 4, blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise, constantly, continually singing. That's not us, is it? We come, we go. But those loved ones in heaven, in Christ, They are constantly living there, constantly singing His praise. That's the comfort for us. They have never been more blessed. Of course, we miss them, our loved ones in Christ who have departed this world, some of them earlier than we had expected or hoped. They leave a massive hole in our lives. One of the peculiar pains of death is the absence that death brings into our lives, the empty crib. the empty bed, the empty space at the table, the empty shoes at the front door, the absence at Thanksgiving or Christmas. And when we feel that absence, what do we long for? We long for our loved ones to come back to us just for one more day, one more day in the crib, one more day at the table, one more night in the bed, one more Thanksgiving, one more Christmas. But think about what we'd be asking of them. We'd be asking them to leave the courts of the Lord of hosts, to leave their home in heaven where they get to praise God continually. Why would we want them to have to leave that? Yes, we're grieved by their absence, but they are blessed by God's presence. That's the comfort here. They're in God's presence singing his praise. And that's the point. It's not just the place that makes them blessed. It's the person. Did you notice how verse four ends? Ever singing your praise. Verse four ends, not with a place, but with a person. C.S. Lewis once said that heaven is Oxford lifted up and placed in County Down, Northern Ireland. Now, being from County Down, Northern Ireland, I want to say in a very unbiased way, he was a genius. But like all geniuses, he had his blind spots. He got the right county, the right country, but the wrong city. Should have said Cambridge. But as a fellow Ulster man, I'll forgive him that. But notice what C.S. Lewis was saying, heaven is not just a beautiful place like County Down, Northern Ireland. For Lewis, heaven is a beautiful place because it's an inhabited place. When he spoke about Oxford being lifted up and placed in County Down, he was speaking of Oxford, the university city, with the professors and the students and the townsfolk and the libraries and the culture. Lewis was saying that heaven is about the people as much as it is about the place. And that's what this psalmist is saying. Heaven is a praiseworthy place. because it is inhabited by a praiseworthy person, God. That's why this psalmist finds God's dwelling place so lovable, because the Lord of hosts, the living God, is lovable. Heaven is only heaven because of who lives there. Did you notice the frequency of references to God in this psalm? 14 references to God, only six to his dwelling place. This psalmist is not just longing for heaven, he's longing for the God of heaven because it's God who makes heaven heaven. Heaven is only heaven because of who lives there. That's the first thing that this psalm shows us, a longing for heaven, a longing for God. Second, a sojourn to heaven, a sojourn to God, verses five to seven. The last stanza ended with a blessing for those who live in God's temple, verse four. This stanza begins with a blessing for those who journey to God's temple. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. In other words, blessed are those who are already in heaven, and blessed are those who have the journey to heaven fixed in their hearts. That's what the phrase highways to Zion refers to. Blessed are those who have pilgrimage fixed in their hearts, who know their pilgrims and live like their pilgrims. Such people, says the psalmist, are a refreshing comfort as the pilgrims travel through the valley of Baca on the way to Zion. We're not sure exactly where the Valley of Baca was but commentators think Baca refers to balsam trees which were in the Valley of Rephaim in the southwest of Jerusalem. It was the one pilgrim route that walked through a valley. And it was a dangerous route because the Philistines were nearby and it was dry. There were no natural springs. But more than that, Baka sounds like the Hebrew word for weeping. Perhaps the balsam trees wept their gum. This was the valley of weeping. That's why Isaac Watts and John Light's versions of Psalm 84 have the phrase veal of tears, V-A-L-E, veal of tears. You notice what this psalmist says, those who go through this veil of tears with their strength firmly rooted in God, with pilgrimage in their hearts, they can turn a dry place into a place of springs. In other words, their lives become a blessing to those who journey with them. I wonder if you have ever met a Christian that someone has described as so heavenly minded that they're of no earthly use. You ever heard that saying? Yeah, it's a load of absolute nonsense. A person who is so heavenly minded is of great earthly use because they remind us that this world is not our home. We're just a passing through. They remind us that the highways to Zion should be fixed in our hearts, that we should live loosely to this world and longingly for another world. Have you ever met someone like that? It was once said of Richard Sibbes after his death, heaven was in him before he was in heaven. Heaven was in him before he was in heaven. Ever met someone like that? I had a dear friend called Sam, who went to be with the Lord at the beginning of 2020. He died just short of his 30th birthday after more than a decade-long battle with leukemia. He recovered from leukemia on a number of occasions, but he suffered most terribly from the crippling graft-versus-host disease, the bone marrow transplant that had saved his life, actually attacked his own body. It attacked his organs, his skin, and it robbed him of many of the basic comforts and joys that we all took for granted. And over the years, I would meet up with Sam in Sydney or in Oxford when he went to study there, even with his illness. And every time I met Sam, as his health started to decline more and more, I came away feeling refreshed. with my eyes lifted up to heaven because Sam's focus had shifted from this life to the life of the world to come. He once told me, I just live for two days, today and that day. because this life had held out no hope for him. There was no healing. There was no recovery. And so he longed for heaven. He longed for God. He had no strength in himself. His strength was in God. And as he made his way to God in the heavenly Mount Zion, heaven was in him before he was in heaven. And that's where our lives are heading. Verse seven, they go from strength to strength. Each one appears before God in Zion. Do you see that? The ultimate destiny of life is a journey to God in heaven. Interestingly, in this second stanza, all mention of God's dwelling place has disappeared. We're now just focused on God, journeying to God. A sojourn to heaven, yes, But really, it's a sojourn to God, which is what the psalmist then prays for in verses 8 to 11, which brings us to our third point, a prayer to reach heaven, a prayer to reach God. Verses 8 to 10, a prayer to reach heaven, a prayer to reach God. A longing for heaven, a longing for God, a sojourn to heaven, a sojourn to God, and now, a prayer to reach heaven, a prayer to reach God. The prayer is there in verse 8 and 9. O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer. Give ear, O God of Jacob. Selah. Behold our shield, O God. Look on the face of your anointed. It's a personal prayer about reaching God in Zion, and yet, sort of out of nowhere, left field, as we'd say, he starts talking about a shield, an anointed one. Boys and girls, in ancient times, when a king would go into battle, he would go into battle with two things in his hand, a sword and a shield. And the shield became a symbol of the king, a symbol of his protection for his people. And that's what this psalmist is referring to when he says, behold our shield. He's saying behold the king, behold our anointed one. But the question is, why is he praying for him when he's been talking about the temple? What has the king got to do with God's people getting to God's place? Well, quite a lot actually. Because the prosperity of God's people and the protection of God's temple in Zion was dependent on the prosperity of God's king. If God's king was obedient, God would protect him and give him victory over his enemies and the people would have continual access to the temple. But if the king was disobedient, God would punish them and hand them over to their enemies, and the temple would be destroyed, and the people would no longer have access to God's dwelling place. Just think ahead to the exile. Israel and Judah's kings disobeyed God, and so the Babylonians come in, take them off into exile, and destroy the temple. They no longer had access to God's place. They no longer had access to God because the king had sinned. And that's why this psalmist prays that God would behold the king, that he might look with favor on the face of his anointed because he knows if the king prospers, then I have constant access to his dwelling place. That's what the word for is doing at the beginning of verse 10. Behold our shield, O God, look on the face of your anointed, for a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I'd rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. Verse 10 contains two comparisons. The first is temporal. A day in God's courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. That's one day to three years. The second comparison is spatial. Being on the edge of God's house, on the threshold, is better than living as a doorkeeper in the tents of wickedness with all their seeming pleasures. Remember a number of years ago, just before Jackie and I came to live in Philadelphia, we were living in Cambridge, and it was our final Sunday, and so I said, Jackie, let's go down and catch the last Evensong at King's College Chapel. So we got Ben all wrapped up. It was a cold winter afternoon in December, and we headed down, but we got there too late. The doors were shut. So instead, we decided to press our ears up against these ancient doors. And in the freezing cold, we stood there for one hour. Do you know why? Because we heard the sound of angels singing. And we would rather have stood there in the cold than being at home all day in front of the fire. because what we heard was incomparable. And that's what this psalmist is saying. He longs to be with God and so he prays for favor on the king because he wants access to God's courts because God's courts are incomparable. And why are they incomparable? Not because the angels are singing. but because God is there. Verse 11, for the Lord God is a sun and shield. The Lord bestows favor and honor. Heaven is incomparable because God is in heaven. And what's so special about God? He is a sun. In that heavenly country bright, Need they no created light? Thy its light, its joy, its crown, Thy its sun, which goes not dying. Heaven is incomparable because God is there. And he is a sun, it's a picture of life and light. He is a shield, it's a picture of protection and safety. He is our life and light, our protection and safety. And look what he gives, grace, favor, glory, honor, and good things. This is why the psalmist prays for God to show favor on the king, so that he can keep getting access to God's place, so that he can keep getting access to God, the God of grace, glory, and good things. What is the good thing that God does not withhold from us? Well, I think the answer's found in comparing verse 10 and 11. The word better in verse 10 is the same word in Hebrew as the word good in verse 11. In other words, the good thing that God does not withhold from us is being with God in his courts. God does not withhold heaven from us. God does not withhold himself from us. Hence why the psalmist ends in verse 12, oh Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you. In other words, all true blessing is found in God himself. But as we saw in verse nine, That blessing only comes to us through His anointed King. Blessing for us is only possible if there's favor for Him, the King. Which means for us today, God must look with favor on Jesus Christ, the anointed King. And the great good news of the gospel is that He has God has looked with favor on Jesus, our anointed king. Because in his life, he perfectly embodied the desires and sentiments of this psalmist. In the Old Testament King David expressed similar sentiments to this psalmist. Psalm 27 verse 4, one thing I have asked of the Lord that will I seek that I may dwell in the house of the Lord forever and gaze upon the beauty of his face. And then he went and slept with another man's wife. Solomon was the same. He built the temple that this psalmist is singing about and he stood in the midst of that temple and he gave a prayer of adoration and dedication to God. And then he went and slept with many women and they turned his heart away to worship other gods. all the way through the Old Testament, there's a search for a king whom God will look with fever upon to give the people permanent, irreversible access to his dwelling place. But there was none. Until Jesus, that is. In Jesus, we have the perfect embodiment of these desires, lived out in perfect obedience under God's law. Just think about Jesus' life. As a young boy, where did he love to spend time? At the temple, a symbol of God's home in heaven. When he was 12 years old, he stayed at the temple. When his parents went back to Nazareth during one of the feasts, He stayed not out of disobedience to them, but out of love for his father's house. And when he entered public ministry at 30 years old, he frequently visited the temple, even cleansing it from being a marketplace of commerce to a meeting place of prayer. Jesus was like the sons of Korah, protecting the courts of the Lord of hosts from unclean influences and making it a house of prayer and praise. He was like the king, building a house for God's name, like David and Solomon before him. But unlike them, he could sing this psalm perfectly. in his infant years, in his adolescent years, in his adult years. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts. My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. The life of Jesus is one of those parts in the Bible, like the patriarchs in Canaan, like the pilgrimages to Jerusalem, where the heartbeat for heaven is pumping strong, where the pulse beat for God is pulsating away. Jesus was the perfect pilgrim, the ultimate stranger in exile, the one who left his home in heaven and sojourned among us for a time. He was like the patriarchs, wandering from place to place. Foxes have holes. The birds of the air have nests. But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. This world was not his home. He was just a passing through. And what he passed through was also his own valley of Baca, his own veal of tears, his own valley of suffering. And as he passed through it, the highways to Zion were perfectly fixed in his heart. But for the joy set before him, he endured the cross. What was that joy? It was the joy of going back to his father in heaven and sitting down at his right hand. Truly, it could be said of Jesus, heaven was in him before he was in heaven. And because he perfectly exhibited the desires of this psalmist, living in obedience under the law, God looked with fever on him. Do you remember, boys and girls, what happened when he died at the temple? The curtain was torn in two from top to bottom. What did that symbolize? God was saying, I've found the king. I've found the perfect king. The way into my presence is now permanently open. Come, come and dwell in my house. That's what he said to the thief on the cross, isn't it? Today, you will be with me in paradise." Because he was about to rip the curtain. And then after his resurrection, he ascended into heaven. He blasted through the clouds and went into that Mount Zion above. But do you remember what Jesus said to his disciples before he left them? If I go, I go to prepare a place for you. in my father's house are many mansions. And if I go away, I will come again, so that where I am, you might be also." This is what every Christian longs for. It's what we sing for, like that old American folk song, I have a home beyond the river. I have a mansion bright and fair. I have a home beyond the river. and I will dwell with Jesus there. When Jesus does bring us into those bright courts of heaven, into that mansion bright and fair, then we will find that C.S. Lewis and Augustine were right. We were made for another world. We were made for God. because the partial, imperfect desires that we have now will be met fully and finally and perfectly, not in a place, but in a person, in God himself. And so we pray, come, King Jesus, and take your people home. Let us pray. We close with a prayer by John Donne. Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening into the house and gate of heaven, to enter into that gate and to dwell in that house where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light. No noise nor silence, but one equal music. No fears nor hopes, but one equal possession. No ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity. In the habitation of your glory and dominion, world without end, in Jesus' name. Amen.