A Fortress in the Chaos Text: Psalm 46:1-3
Introduction: The Unshakeable Reality
We live in an age of manufactured panic. Our headlines scream of crisis, our politicians thrive on fear, and our culture is addicted to the adrenaline of impending doom. The earth, it seems, is always on the verge of changing, and the mountains are perpetually about to shake. Whether it is a virus, a climate catastrophe, an economic collapse, or the latest political outrage, we are constantly being told that the foundations are crumbling and that we ought to be very, very afraid.
But the Christian is called to a fundamentally different posture. Our stability is not located in the stability of the circumstances. Our peace is not a byproduct of peaceful times. Our confidence is not in the strength of the mountains, the calmness of the seas, or the approval of men. The Christian faith is not a fair-weather faith. It is a faith for the storm, a faith for the earthquake, a faith for the day when the mountains themselves are hurled into the heart of the sea.
This psalm, Psalm 46, is a song for exactly such a time. It is a song of defiant trust. It is a declaration of where our true stability lies. Martin Luther, in the midst of the tumult of the Reformation, with the entire world shaking around him, drew immense strength from this psalm. His great hymn, "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God," is little more than Psalm 46 set to a tune of rugged, masculine confidence. It is a song for men who know the world is a dangerous place, but who know their God even better.
The world offers two basic responses to chaos. The first is Stoicism, which is a grim-faced, stiff-upper-lip attempt to pretend the chaos doesn't matter. The second is Epicureanism, which is a frantic attempt to distract yourself from the chaos with pleasure. The Bible offers a third way, which is not denial and not distraction, but defiant faith. It is to look the chaos squarely in the eye, to acknowledge its full, terrifying power, and then to look away from the chaos and to our God, who is our refuge and strength. This psalm teaches us not to find our footing in a stable world, but to find our footing in an unshakeable God, even as the world comes apart at the seams.
The Text
God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change
And though the mountains shake into the heart of the sea;
Though its waters roar and foam,
Though the mountains quake at its lofty pride. Selah.
(Psalm 46:1-3 LSB)
Our Unassailable Position (v. 1)
The psalm begins not with the problem, but with the solution. It does not start with the trouble, but with the deliverance. It grounds our reality in God before it even acknowledges the chaos of the world.
"God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble." (Psalm 46:1)
This first verse contains three declarations about God that form the bedrock of our confidence. First, God is our refuge. A refuge is a place of safety, a fortress, a high tower. It is a place you run to when the enemy is attacking. It is a defensive position. When the arrows are flying and the spears are thrown, you do not stand in the open field; you get behind the stone walls. The world is full of troubles, and these troubles have teeth. God does not promise that we will never be attacked, but He does promise to be our fortress when we are. To say God is our refuge is to confess that we are not sufficient in ourselves. We need a place to hide, and He is that place.
Second, God is our strength. This is the offensive counterpart to the defensive refuge. He is not just a place we hide, but He is the power by which we fight. He is our strength. This means the power to endure, the power to stand, the power to advance does not come from our reserves of grit or determination. It is supplied by God. We are weak, but He is strong. When we are called to stand against the roaring seas of cultural opposition, we do not do so by mustering our own courage. We do so by drawing on His infinite strength. He is both our shield and our sword.
Third, He is a "very present help in trouble." The Hebrew here is emphatic. He is a help found to be exceedingly near. This is crucial. God is not a distant, deistic landlord who wound up the world and then went on vacation. He is not a far-off help. He is not a help that might show up eventually. He is a "very present" help. When the trouble hits, He is already there. He is not on His way; He has arrived. This demolishes any notion that God is a detached observer of our suffering. He is intimately, actively, and powerfully present in the midst of it. The trouble does not take Him by surprise. He is found in the trouble, a present help.
The Consequent Confidence (v. 2)
Because of who God is, as declared in verse 1, a logical conclusion follows. The psalmist uses the word "Therefore," connecting our theology to our psychology. Right thinking about God leads to right feeling about the world.
"Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change And though the mountains shake into the heart of the sea;" (Psalm 46:2 LSB)
This is not a command to stop feeling the biological sensation of fear. This is a declaration of settled conviction. We will not give way to fear. We will not be governed by it. Why? Because our refuge is secure. Our strength is sufficient. Our help is present. The stability of our souls is not tied to the stability of the planet.
And notice the extremity of the language. "Though the earth should change." This is not talking about a minor inconvenience. This is de-creation language. This is the complete undoing of the established order. The "mountains" are the very symbols of permanence and stability. In the ancient world, nothing was more solid, more immoveable than a mountain. And the psalmist says, even if the most stable things we know are ripped from their foundations and thrown into the chaotic sea, we will not fear.
This is a direct assault on our natural way of thinking. We naturally assume that our internal peace depends on external stability. If my job is secure, if my health is good, if the nation is at peace, then I can be at peace. The psalmist flips this entirely. He says that our internal peace is grounded in God, and therefore external chaos cannot touch it. Our confidence is not in the things that can be shaken, but in the God who cannot be shaken. This is the great Creator/creature distinction at work. The entire created order can come undone, but the Creator remains, and because we are in Him, we remain with Him.
The Roaring of Chaos (v. 3)
Verse 3 continues to paint the picture of this cosmic upheaval, giving it sound and fury.
"Though its waters roar and foam, Though the mountains quake at its lofty pride. Selah." (Psalm 46:3 LSB)
The sea in Scripture is often a symbol of chaos, of the raging of the nations, of untamed and destructive power. Here, the waters "roar and foam." This is a picture of violent, arrogant rebellion. The mountains "quake at its lofty pride." The pride belongs to the swelling sea. The chaos is personified as an arrogant, prideful force that makes even the mountains tremble.
This is a perfect description of the spirit of our age. The nations rage. The cultural waters roar and foam with prideful rebellion against God and His created order. They seek to unmake the world, to dissolve every distinction, to cast down every standard. And many in the church see this and their knees knock. They see the mountains of civilization quaking, and they are filled with fear.
But the psalmist, having witnessed this terrifying display, concludes this section with a single word: "Selah." The exact meaning of Selah is uncertain, but it is a musical or liturgical notation, likely calling for a pause. It says, "Stop. Think about that. Let it sink in." After describing the entire world dissolving into a roaring, chaotic mess, the Spirit of God tells us to pause and reflect. What are we to reflect on? We are to reflect on the truth of verse 1 in light of the chaos of verses 2 and 3. Pause, and remember your refuge. Pause, and remember your strength. Pause, and consider that even this roaring sea is a creature, and our God is the Creator. He sets its boundaries and says, "Thus far shall you come, and no farther" (Job 38:11). The foaming pride of the sea is no match for the sovereign decree of God.
Conclusion: Where to Stand
So where does this leave us? It leaves us with a choice. Every day, we choose where to locate our sense of stability. We can place it in the mountains, in our institutions, in our bank accounts, in our political leaders. And when we do, we will be in a constant state of anxiety, because all those things can and will be shaken.
Or, we can place our stability where the psalmist does. We can stand in the fortress. We can declare that God, and God alone, is our refuge and strength. This does not make the troubles go away. The waters will still roar. The mountains may very well quake. The Christian life is not a promise of a placid sea, but a promise of an unsinkable boat and an unshakeable Captain.
When the world shakes, it is a test. It is designed to reveal what we are truly trusting in. A shaking world is God's mercy to us, because it forces us off of the sinking sand of our own self-reliance and onto the solid rock of His faithfulness. Therefore, let the earth change. Let the mountains fall. Let the waters roar. We have a refuge. We have a source of strength. We have a very present help. Pause on that. Selah.