Psalm 14:7

The Longing for Home Text: Psalm 14:7

Introduction: The Universal Ache

Every man, woman, and child knows what it is to be in exile. We are born into it. We are born east of the garden, and the ache of that displacement is the fundamental background noise of our entire lives. We try to silence it with every imaginable distraction: entertainment, ambition, politics, chemical stupors, and false religions. Our entire culture is a frantic, noisy attempt to convince itself that this current state of affairs is normal, that this captivity is freedom, that this pigsty is home. But it is not home, and deep down, everyone knows it. The fool says in his heart there is no God, as the first verse of this psalm tells us, and the necessary consequence of that atheism is a world gone sour, corrupt, and abominable. When you declare your autonomy from God, you do not become a free man in a brave new world; you become a captive in a world you have just rendered meaningless.

The world promises liberation and delivers bondage. It promises wisdom and delivers foolishness. It promises life and delivers death. And so the people of God, in every generation, have felt this tension. We are in the world, but not of it. We are citizens of a heavenly kingdom, but we are also tasked with bringing that kingdom to bear on this earth. We live in the midst of the ruins, but we carry the blueprints for the new city. This creates a holy longing, a righteous discontent. It is the same ache that David expresses here. It is not a cry of despair, but a cry of hope. It is the confident expectation that God has not abandoned His world to the fools, but has a plan of salvation, a plan of restoration, a plan for bringing His captives home.

This verse is the hinge upon which the whole psalm turns. After diagnosing the universal depravity of man, a depravity so profound that "there is none who does good, no, not one," David does not conclude with a shrug of resignation. He concludes with a prayer that is also a prophecy. He looks for a salvation that must come from outside the broken system of man. He looks to God's holy hill. He looks for a divine intervention that will not just pardon individuals but restore a people and make the world glad. This is the gospel in miniature. This is the Old Testament saint longing for the very thing we now possess in Christ.


The Text

Oh, that the salvation of Israel would come out of Zion! When Yahweh restores His captive people, May Jacob rejoice, may Israel be glad.
(Psalm 14:7 LSB)

Salvation from Zion

We begin with the source of this great hope:

"Oh, that the salvation of Israel would come out of Zion!" (Psalm 14:7a)

This is an exclamation, a heartfelt cry. The psalmist is looking at the world, a world full of practical atheists eating up God's people like bread, and he longs for deliverance. But notice where he looks. He does not look to a political coalition, or a military strongman, or a new educational initiative. He looks to Zion. Why Zion? In the Old Testament, Zion was the mountain in Jerusalem where the temple stood. It was the place where God had chosen to place His name. It was, symbolically, the seat of His government on earth, the place where heaven and earth met. To say that salvation comes from Zion is to say that salvation is God's initiative, and it comes from His established presence with His people.

This is a thoroughly God-centered hope. Man cannot save himself from the mess he has made. The fool who says there is no God cannot pull a divine salvation out of his own empty hat. The rescue must come from God's throne room. But we who live on this side of the cross know that this is more than just a reference to a location in Palestine. The writer to the Hebrews tells us what Zion is now. "But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to myriads of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven" (Hebrews 12:22-23). Zion is the Church. It is the assembly of God's people, where Christ the King reigns.

And who is the salvation of Israel? The word for salvation here is Yeshua. It is the name of Jesus. The psalmist is crying out, "Oh, that Jesus would come out of Zion!" And He has. Jesus Christ, the salvation of God, has come forth from the heavenly Zion. He descended into our world, lived, died, and rose again. He has established His government, His Zion, which is the Church. And from this Zion, His salvation now goes forth into all the world. The salvation David longed for is not a future, abstract hope for us; it is a present reality and a spreading dominion. It is the gospel of the kingdom, which flows like a mighty river from the City of God, bringing life wherever it goes.


The Great Reversal

Next, the psalmist describes the nature of this salvation. It is a restoration from captivity.

"When Yahweh restores His captive people..." (Psalm 14:7b)

The ultimate captivity is not political or economic. The ultimate captivity is sin. We are born slaves to sin, held in bondage by the fear of death, and in thrall to the prince of the power of the air. This is the universal condition of the fool who denies God. He thinks he is autonomous, but he is in chains. The Old Testament is filled with stories of physical captivity, the bondage in Egypt, the exile in Babylon, but these are all living parables of this deeper, spiritual reality. They are shadows pointing to the great substance.

When does Yahweh restore His captive people? He did it decisively at the cross. Christ, our Passover Lamb, led a new exodus. He entered the strongman's house, bound him, and plundered his goods, setting the captives free. As Paul says, "He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son" (Colossians 1:13). This is the great turning, the restoration of the fortunes of His people. It is not just about forgiving our sins; it is about breaking the power of sin. It is a release from prison. It is a homecoming.

But this restoration is not just a one-time event at conversion. It is an ongoing reality. As the gospel goes forth from Zion, from the Church, Yahweh continues to restore His captive people. He is restoring families, communities, and nations. This is the heart of our postmillennial hope. We believe that the Great Commission is not a holding action until the final retreat. It is a rescue mission that succeeds. Christ is in the business of setting captives free, and He will continue to do so until the knowledge of the Lord covers the earth as the waters cover the sea. He is restoring His people, and that restoration project includes the whole of life and the whole of the world.


The Result of Redemption

Finally, we see the result of God's saving work. It is explosive, uncontainable joy.

"May Jacob rejoice, may Israel be glad." (Psalm 14:7c)

Gladness is the necessary fruit of genuine salvation. When a man understands the depth of the pit from which he has been rescued, when he sees the strength of the chains that have been broken, his only possible response is joy. This is not a superficial happiness based on circumstances. It is a deep, theological gladness rooted in the character and actions of God. It is the joy of the prodigal son who was dead and is alive again, who was lost and is found. It is the joy of a liberated people.

Notice the names used here: Jacob and Israel. These are the names of the one patriarch who wrestled with God and prevailed. Jacob was his name in his conniving weakness. Israel was the name God gave him in his redeemed strength. The use of both names is significant. It encompasses the whole people of God, in our weakness and in our God-given strength. It points to the true Israel, the Church, which is composed of all those, Jew and Gentile, who have been grafted into the covenant family through faith in the Messiah.

This joy is not a private affair. It is corporate. Jacob rejoices, Israel is glad. This is the sound of a redeemed community. It is the sound of worship. It is the sound of a people who know they have been rescued and who cannot keep silent about it. This is the gladness that ought to characterize the Church. We are the liberated people of God. We are the ones who have seen the salvation of God come forth from Zion. Our gatherings should be the most joyful places on earth, because we have the most reason for joy. Our God has turned our captivity. He has brought us home.


Conclusion: Living in the "When"

The psalmist cried out, "Oh, that..." and "When..." He lived in the time of longing and anticipation. We live in the time of fulfillment. The salvation of Israel, Jesus, has come out of Zion. Yahweh has, in Christ, restored His captive people. Therefore, the command to rejoice is not a future hope but a present obligation.

We are Jacob, still wrestling, still weak, still limping. But we are also Israel, the people who have seen God face to face and have been preserved. We are the evidence that God's plan of restoration is underway. The world is still full of fools who say there is no God. They are still corrupt. They still devour God's people like bread. But their reign is short. Their time is ending. The King has come forth from Zion, and He is setting His people free.

Therefore, let us be glad. Let our lives, our families, and our churches be characterized by this deep, defiant joy. This gladness is not a denial of the world's brokenness; it is the answer to it. It is a weapon. It is the flag of the invading kingdom, planted on enemy soil, declaring that this world belongs to our God and to His Christ. He has turned our captivity, and the joy of that homecoming is just beginning.