The Great Contradiction Text: Psalm 49:15
Introduction: Two Ways to Die
The world is full of rich men who are going to die. This is not news. The fool and the wise man, the cattle on a thousand hills and the man who thinks he owns them, all share the same destination. They all leave their wealth to others and their bodies to the dust. The psalmist here in Psalm 49 spends a good deal of time rubbing our noses in this brute fact. The wicked trust in their wealth, they name lands after themselves, they build their little empires as though they were going to last forever. But their pomp will not follow them down into the grave. Death is the great shepherd of the fools, and he herds them all into the pen of Sheol.
This is the wisdom of the world. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Grab what you can, because the grave gets the rest. It is a worldview built entirely on what can be seen, what can be held, and what will inevitably be lost. It is a philosophy with a shelf life that expires at the last heartbeat. And against this grim, horizontal certainty, the psalmist erects a towering, vertical contradiction. He plants a flag of defiance in the face of the universal grave.
The entire psalm sets up a contrast between two kinds of men who face one great enemy, death. There is the man who trusts in his riches, and there is the man who trusts in God. Both men will die. The grave is not an optional detour for the righteous. But, and this is the pivot upon which all reality turns, they do not die in the same way, and they certainly do not end in the same place. One is herded by death into oblivion; the other is received by God into life. Our text today is the great declaration of this glorious distinction. It is the Old Testament hope of resurrection, stated as plainly as you could wish.
Many modern evangelicals have been sadly taught that the Old Testament saints lived in a gray fog, with only a dim and murky hope of life after death. This is a slander against the faith of our fathers. The hope of Israel was always the resurrection of the dead. Job knew that though worms destroy his body, yet in his flesh he would see God. Abraham saw Christ's day and was glad. And here, the sons of Korah sing with full-throated confidence that God will pull them out of the clutches of the grave. This is not some new-fangled doctrine; it is our ancient hope.
The Text
"But God will redeem my soul from the power of Sheol, For He will receive me. Selah."
(Psalm 49:15 LSB)
God Will Redeem (v. 15a)
The verse begins with a great adversative, a "but." The fool goes down to the grave, his glory does not descend with him, he is like the beasts that perish... BUT. This "but" is the hinge of history.
"But God will redeem my soul from the power of Sheol..." (Psalm 49:15a)
The word for redeem here is padah. It means to ransom, to buy back. It is a commercial term, a marketplace word. The psalmist understands that his life is forfeit. He is in hock to the grave. He cannot pay the price to get himself out. The previous verses make this plain: "No man can by any means redeem his brother or give to God a ransom for him, for the redemption of his soul is costly, and he should cease trying forever" (vv. 7-8). You cannot bribe death. Your 401k is worthless currency in that kingdom.
So if man cannot pay the ransom, who can? "But God will..." The psalmist throws himself entirely upon the redeeming grace of God. This is a confession of utter helplessness and total confidence. I cannot do it, but God will. This is the essence of faith. This is not wishful thinking; it is covenantal certainty. God is a redeeming God. It is His nature. He redeemed Israel from the hand of Pharaoh, and the psalmist is confident He will perform a greater exodus still, an exodus from the grave.
And what is it that God will redeem? "My soul." In the Hebrew mind, the soul (nephesh) is not some wispy, ethereal ghost in the machine. It refers to the whole person, the seat of life, the individual himself. The psalmist is not hoping for a disembodied spiritual existence, but for the redemption of his very life from the grip of death. He expects to be bought back, whole and entire.
From the Power of Sheol (v. 15b)
The psalmist is specific about the enemy from which he will be rescued.
"...from the power of Sheol..." (Psalm 49:15b)
The Hebrew is literally "from the hand of Sheol." Sheol, in the Old Testament, is the realm of the dead. It is the grave. For all who died, righteous and wicked, Sheol was the destination. It was not what we now think of as Hell, the lake of fire, or Gehenna. That final place of judgment is distinct. Sheol was the waiting place. For the wicked, it was a place of darkness and foreboding. For the righteous, it was a place of conscious rest, what Jesus would later call "Abraham's bosom" (Luke 16:22). They were safe, but they were waiting. They were waiting for the promised Redeemer to complete His work. They could not be perfected apart from us (Heb. 11:40).
Sheol had a "hand," a power, a grip. It held its subjects fast. No one had ever broken out. But the psalmist declares that God is going to perform a jailbreak. He is going to reach His own hand into the hand of Sheol and pull His child out. This is a prophecy of resurrection. It is a direct contradiction to the finality of the grave that the worldly man accepts.
And we know how God accomplished this. He did it by sending His own Son, Jesus Christ, into the very hand of Sheol. Jesus died and was buried. He descended into Hades, as the creed says. But Sheol could not hold Him (Acts 2:24). Its hand was not strong enough. Why? Because He was not a debtor to death. He had no sin of His own. He was the costly ransom that no man could pay. And when He came out of the tomb on the third day, He did not come out empty-handed. He came leading a host of captives, all the Old Testament saints who had been waiting in faith. He plundered Sheol and transferred them to glory. He holds the keys of Death and Hades (Rev. 1:18). Because He lives, the psalmist's hope was not in vain.
He Will Receive Me (v. 15c)
The verse concludes with the ultimate destination of the redeemed soul.
"For He will receive me." (Genesis 49:15c)
This is a beautiful and intimate statement. The word for "receive" is the same one used to describe Enoch, who "walked with God; and he was not, for God took him" (Gen. 5:24). It speaks of being brought into God's own presence. The psalmist is not just rescued from a bad place; he is welcomed into the best place. He is not just let out of prison; he is invited into the palace.
This is the Christian's hope. To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (2 Cor. 5:8). We are not just saved from Hell; we are saved to God. He is the prize. The ultimate end of redemption is not just escaping the flames, but being received into the loving fellowship of the Trinity. This is what Christ purchased for us. "Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory" (John 17:24).
The rich fool is received by the grave. His cronies give him a grand funeral, and then he is forgotten. But the righteous man, though his funeral may be simple, is received by God Himself. This is the great reversal. The world honors the man who dies with the most toys. God honors the man who dies with the most faith.
Selah
And then the psalmist adds one final, crucial word.
"Selah." (Genesis 49:15d)
We are not entirely certain what this word means, as it is a musical or liturgical notation whose precise meaning has been lost. But the best understanding is that it calls for a pause. Stop. Think about that. Let it sink in. The instruments may have swelled here, or there may have been a profound silence.
The psalmist has just made one of the most audacious claims in the history of the world. He has looked the universal enemy, death, right in the eye and said, "You will not have me. My God is coming for me." After a statement like that, you need a pause. You need to let the weight of it settle. The world says death has the final word. The psalmist says God has the final word. Selah. The world says the grave is a pit. The psalmist says it is a doorway through which God will receive him. Selah. The world says to trust in your riches. The psalmist says God is my ransom. Selah.
This is a moment to stop and worship. It is a moment to let the truth rearrange your furniture. What are you afraid of? What are you trusting in? This verse calls us to pause and re-evaluate everything in light of this great contradiction.
Conclusion: The Ransomed Man
This verse is a bright, shining jewel of gospel hope in the Old Testament. It shows us that the faith of a true saint is the same in every age. It is faith in the God who redeems, the God who raises the dead.
For us, who live on this side of the cross, this hope is not a future prophecy but a present reality, grounded in a historical fact. Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead, and He is the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep (1 Cor. 15:20). The ransom has been paid, not with silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ. The hand of Sheol has been broken. The power of death has been defanged.
Therefore, we do not have to live like the wealthy fools described in this psalm. We do not have to build our little kingdoms and name our pathetic little lands after ourselves. We can live with open hands, because our treasure is in heaven. We can face death without fear, because we know it is not a period, but a comma. It is not a dead end, but an exodus. We know that our Redeemer lives, and that because He lives, we will live also.
The promise of the psalmist is your promise, if you are in Christ. "But God will redeem my soul from the power of Sheol, for He will receive me." Do you believe this? Is this the bedrock of your life, or are you still trying to build on the shifting sands of this world's wealth and pomp? The grave is coming for all of us. The only question is whether it will come as a shepherd to herd you to judgment, or as a defeated enemy whose keys are held by the one who will receive you into glory.
Selah.