The Antidote to Despair Text: Psalm 27:13-14
Introduction: The Sin of Fainting
We live in an age that has perfected the art of despair. Our culture marinates in it. It is the background music in our movies, the cynical assumption in our newsrooms, and the limp-wristed posture of our politicians. And because the Church is always downstream from the world when it is not actively discipling the world, this sentimental despair has seeped under our doors as well. We have mistaken melancholy for piety and have come to believe that a long face is a sign of deep thoughts. We have traded the rugged, blood-bought hope of the gospel for a therapeutic deism that is good for offering gentle platitudes but is utterly useless in a street fight.
The modern Christian too often treats despair as a regrettable but understandable emotional state, a common cold of the soul. But the Bible treats it as a sin. It is the sin of fainting. It is a failure of nerve. It is a practical declaration that God is either unable or unwilling to keep His promises. Despair is calling God a liar with your posture. It is a profound theological statement, and a damnable one at that.
David, a man well acquainted with assassins, traitors, and the constant threat of a violent death, was not a stranger to the feelings that lead to despair. But he knew the antidote. He understood that the fight against despair is not won by looking inward at the state of our feelings but by looking outward at the objective reality of God's promises. This is a battle, and the primary weapon is belief. What you believe determines whether you will stand or faint. The Christian life is not a day-at-the-beach story; it is an adventure story, and in adventure stories, the hero is frequently tempted to give up just before the deliverance arrives.
In these final two verses of Psalm 27, David gives us the theological foundation for courage in the face of overwhelming opposition. He shows us what he believed that kept him from fainting, and then he turns and exhorts us to do the same. This is not a gentle suggestion to cheer up; it is a military command to stand firm.
The Text
I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of Yahweh
In the land of the living.
Hope in Yahweh;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Hope in Yahweh.
(Psalm 27:13-14)
The Doctrinal Anchor (v. 13)
David begins with a stark admission, a counter-factual that reveals the secret to his resilience.
"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of Yahweh in the land of the living." (Psalm 27:13)
Notice the structure here. "I would have despaired UNLESS..." Despair was a live option. The circumstances were sufficient to warrant a total collapse. The enemies were real. The threats were lethal. David is not pretending that things were not as bad as they seemed. He is saying that his feelings, left to themselves, would have capsized the ship. The NIV translates it as "I remain confident of this," which is the result, but the older translations capture the raw tension better. "I had fainted, unless I had believed..."
What rescued him was not a change in his circumstances or an improvement in his emotional state. What rescued him was a belief. It was a rugged, stubborn, dogmatic confidence in a doctrinal truth. Faith is not the opposite of reason; it is the foundation of it. And faith is not the opposite of feeling; it is the master of it. David took his feelings by the scruff of the neck and forced them to submit to what he knew to be true. This is the essence of spiritual warfare.
And what was this belief? "That I would see the goodness of Yahweh in the land of the living." Let us break this down. First, the "goodness of Yahweh." This is not some vague, Hallmark-card sentiment. In the Bible, the goodness of God is His covenant faithfulness in action. It is His favor, His blessing, His deliverance, His victory worked out in the grit and grime of human history. It is a robust and tangible thing.
Second, where would he see this goodness? "In the land of the living." This is the key. David's hope was not in a disembodied, ethereal, pie-in-the-sky-when-you-die escape plan. His confidence was that God's covenant blessings were for this life, for this world. He expected to see God's kingdom advance, God's enemies scattered, and God's people vindicated here on earth. This is a thoroughly postmillennial sentiment. The goodness of the Lord is not a consolation prize for losing history; it is the engine of history. David believed God's promises were for the here and now. He believed that the Great Commission, in seed form, was going to work. He expected to see the tangible triumph of God's cause in the land of the living, which is to say, on the field of battle.
This is where so much of the modern church has fainted. We have been taught to see the "land of the living" as heaven, and so we have abandoned the earth to the devil and his minions. We have conceded history to the enemy and have contented ourselves with polishing the brass on a sinking ship. David would have none of it. He believed God's goodness was for the world, and that belief kept him from despair. If you want to stop fainting, you must believe that the gospel is for more than just your soul; it is for your city, your nation, and your world.
The Covenantal Command (v. 14)
Having laid the doctrinal foundation, David pivots from testimony to exhortation. He turns to us, his readers, and issues a series of commands.
"Hope in Yahweh; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Hope in Yahweh." (Psalm 27:14)
The first and last command brackets the entire exhortation: "Hope in Yahweh." The old King James says "Wait on the Lord." This is not the passive, thumb-twiddling waiting of a bus stop. This is the active, alert, and expectant waiting of a soldier on watch or a servant attending to his master. It is a waiting that is full of purpose and preparation. And notice the object of our hope. We are not told to hope in hopefulness, or to trust in trust. We are to hope in Yahweh. Our confidence is not in the quality of our faith, but in the character of our God. He is the covenant-keeping God who has made specific promises and has a perfect track record of keeping them.
Sandwiched between this call to hope is the command for grit: "Be strong and let your heart take courage." This is the language God used with Joshua as he was about to lead the conquest of Canaan. It is military language. It is not a suggestion to try and feel brave. It is a command to act with bravery. Courage is not the absence of fear; it is acting rightly in the presence of fear. And this courage is not something we gin up from within. We are to "let" our hearts take courage. The courage is supplied to us, based on the promises of God. We are strong because He is strong. Our hearts can take courage because He has already won the victory.
This is a call to cheerful, wartime Christianity. The world is not a playground; it is a battleground. And in this battle, God does not want us in a day-at-the-beach story. He wants us in an adventure story. And adventure stories are filled with peril, setbacks, and moments where all seems lost. It is in those moments that we are commanded to be strong, to take courage, and to wait on the Lord. We do this not by looking at the size of the enemy, but by remembering the promise that we will see the goodness of God in the land of the living.
Christ, Our Courage
This psalm, like all the psalms, finds its ultimate fulfillment in the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the one who, in the Garden of Gethsemane, faced the ultimate cause for despair. He stared into the cup of God's wrath, and His soul was "exceedingly sorrowful, even to death." He could have fainted. He could have despaired.
But He did not. Why? Because He believed that He would see the goodness of Yahweh in the land of the living. He, "for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame" (Hebrews 12:2). What was that joy? It was the joy of His resurrection, His ascension, and His coronation as King of kings. It was the joy of seeing His enemies made His footstool. It was the joy of seeing His gospel go forth and conquer the nations, bringing the goodness of God to the very ends of the earth, into the land of the living.
Because Jesus did not despair in the garden, we do not have to despair in our trials. Because He was strong, we are commanded to be strong in Him. Because He took courage, we can let our hearts take courage. His victory is the objective, historical, unshakeable foundation for our hope. Our hope is not a flimsy wish; it is an anchor, because it is hope in Him. He is Yahweh incarnate.
Therefore, when the enemy comes in like a flood, when your circumstances scream "despair," when your feelings begin to faint, you are to do what David did. You are to believe the promise. You are to believe that the goodness of our God is not some far-off distant thing, but is a present and growing reality in the world. Christ has been raised from the dead. He is ruling and reigning now. His kingdom is advancing and will not fail.
So, hope in the Lord. Be strong. Let your heart take courage. Stand your post. Do your duty. And watch as our God continues to display His goodness in the land of the living.