The Terrifying Goodness of God Text: Psalm 65:5-8
Introduction: A God Who Governs
We live in an age that wants a manageable God, a domesticated God, a God who can be safely tucked away into the private sphere of personal devotion. The modern mind, and sadly, many a modern Christian mind, is comfortable with a God who is a celestial therapist, a divine butler, or a sentimental grandfather. But the God of the Bible, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is none of those things. He is the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth. He is not safe; He is good. And His goodness is a terrifying thing to His enemies.
The psalmist here in Psalm 65 is not content to speak of God in hushed, abstract tones. He points to the hard realities of the physical world and the turbulent stage of human history and declares that God is the one running the show. This is a profound offense to the secularist, who sees only impersonal forces and random chance. It is also a rebuke to the deist, who imagines a God who wound up the clock and then retired to a safe distance. And it is a sharp corrective to the timid pietist, who wants God to be in charge of his heart but is embarrassed to suggest He is also in charge of the tectonic plates and the United Nations.
This psalm is a celebration of a God who answers, who establishes, who stills, and who makes the cosmos sing. It connects His work in creation directly to His work in salvation and judgment. The same power that holds the mountains in place is the power that brings salvation to the ends of the earth. The same authority that quiets the raging seas is the authority that silences the rebellion of nations. This is a holistic worldview. There is no corner of reality, from the farthest sea to the dawn's first light, that is not under His direct, personal, and absolute governance. To worship this God is to see His fingerprints everywhere, and to understand that the grammar of His power in the natural world is the same grammar He uses in the salvation of His people.
The Text
By fearsome deeds You answer us in righteousness, O God of our salvation, You who are the trust of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest sea; Who establishes the mountains by His strength, Being girded with might; Who stills the rumbling of the seas, The rumbling of their waves, And the tumult of the peoples. They who inhabit the ends of the earth are in fear on account of Your signs; You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.
(Psalm 65:5-8 LSB)
Fearsome Righteousness (v. 5)
The psalmist begins with the nature of God's interaction with His people. It is not tame; it is awesome.
"By fearsome deeds You answer us in righteousness, O God of our salvation, You who are the trust of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest sea;" (Psalm 65:5)
When God answers prayer, it is not always in a still, small voice. He often answers with "fearsome deeds," or as some translations put it, "awesome things." These are acts that inspire awe, reverence, and a healthy dose of fear. Think of the plagues in Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the fire on Mount Carmel. These were answers to the cries of His people, and they were terrifying to behold, not just for the Egyptians, but for Israel as well. Our God is a consuming fire, and when He acts, the world takes notice.
And notice the context of these fearsome deeds: He answers us "in righteousness." God's power is not arbitrary or capricious like the pagan gods. His awesome displays of power are always in accord with His perfect, holy character. They are righteous answers. When He judges the wicked, it is righteous. When He delivers His people, it is righteous. This is the foundation of our trust. We can trust Him precisely because His fearsome power is governed by His unwavering righteousness. He is not a cosmic tyrant; He is the holy King.
Because of this, He is the "trust of all the ends of the earth." This is a profoundly missional and postmillennial statement. The psalmist sees a future where the knowledge of this fearsome, righteous God extends beyond the borders of Israel to every nation, every tribe, and every remote island. The God of Israel is not a tribal deity. He is the God of all salvation, and the whole world is His rightful possession. The Great Commission is the engine that fulfills this prophecy, as the gospel goes forth and men and women from every corner of the globe learn to place their trust, not in their idols or in their own strength, but in the God who answers by fire and by water.
Governing Creation (v. 6-7)
From God's work in salvation, the psalmist turns to His work in creation, showing that the same mighty hand is behind both.
"Who establishes the mountains by His strength, Being girded with might; Who stills the rumbling of the seas, The rumbling of their waves, And the tumult of the peoples." (Psalm 65:6-7 LSB)
First, God "establishes the mountains by His strength." The mountains were, for the ancient mind, symbols of permanence, stability, and immovability. But they are not self-existent. They are established. They are put in place and held in place by the sheer strength of God. He is "girded with might," like a warrior preparing for battle. This is a polemic against the nature-worship of the pagans. The mountains are not gods; they are God's handiwork. They are creatures, and He is the Creator. Their stability is a derived stability, entirely dependent on His ongoing, powerful will.
Next, He "stills the rumbling of the seas." If mountains represent stability, the sea represents chaos, turmoil, and untamable power. The ancient world was terrified of the sea. Their mythologies were filled with sea monsters and chaotic water deities. But the God of the Bible is not threatened by the sea. He stills its rumbling. He tells the waves where their proud boundary is (Job 38:11). When Jesus stood up in the boat on the Sea of Galilee and rebuked the wind and the waves, He was not just performing a neat miracle. He was demonstrating that He was Yahweh in the flesh, the one who, by His mere word, commands the chaos of the deep.
And then comes the crucial connection: He stills the rumbling of the seas, the waves, "And the tumult of the peoples." The Bible frequently uses the imagery of the raging sea to describe the rebellious, chaotic, and proud nations of men (Isaiah 17:12-13; Revelation 17:15). The political turmoil, the riots in the streets, the arrogant counsels of kings and presidents, the "tumult of the peoples," is, to God, no more threatening than a crashing wave. He who can calm the ocean can just as easily calm the nations. He who sits in the heavens laughs at their raging (Psalm 2:4). This gives the people of God immense confidence. We are not to be terrified by the headlines or the political posturing. The God who set the mountains in place and who muzzles the sea is the same God who governs the affairs of men. History is His story, and He will bring it to its appointed end.
The Doxological Creation (v. 8)
The result of God's fearsome deeds in salvation and His mighty works in creation is a worldwide response of both fear and joy.
"They who inhabit the ends of the earth are in fear on account of Your signs; You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy." (Psalm 65:8 LSB)
Those who live at the farthest reaches of civilization, who might not have the written law, are still confronted with God's "signs." These signs are His mighty acts, both in nature and in history. The plagues on Egypt were signs. The resurrection of Christ is the ultimate sign. And the response to these signs is fear. This is not a cowering, servile terror, but a reverential awe. It is the beginning of wisdom. When God reveals His power, the only sane response is to fall on your face.
But fear is not the only response. God also makes the whole of creation erupt in joyous praise. "You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy." The Hebrew here is vivid. The outgoings of the morning and the evening are made to ring out, to give a ringing cry. This is not simply sentimental poetry. It is a theological statement about the nature of reality. Creation is not a silent, neutral backdrop. It is a liturgical choir, and God is the choirmaster. The daily cycle of sunrise and sunset is a perpetual sermon, a twice-daily doxology to the Creator's faithfulness and glory.
The dawn shouts with the joy of new mercies, of light conquering darkness, of resurrection. The sunset shouts with the joy of a day's work completed, of faithfulness sustained, of the promise of rest. This is the rhythm God has woven into the fabric of the world. And we are meant to join the song. Our lives are to be tuned to this cosmic liturgy. When we see the sunrise, we should hear it shouting of God's glory and add our "Amen." When we see the sunset, we should hear its praise and join the chorus.
Conclusion: Trusting the God of Thunder and Silence
The God of Psalm 65 is the God who is. He is not a projection of our wishes or a product of our religious imagination. He is the one who establishes mountains and saves men by fearsome deeds. He is the one who silences the roaring sea and the tumultuous nations with equal ease.
This is the God we worship. This is the God we trust. We do not trust in our own strength, which is less than a whisper. We do not trust in the stability of our governments, which are as chaotic as the raging sea. We place our trust in the God of our salvation, whose righteousness is the foundation of His fearsome power.
Therefore, when the nations rage, we are not to be shaken. Our God stills the tumult. When the foundations of the earth seem to tremble, we are not to fear. Our God established the mountains. And every morning, when the sun rises, and every evening when it sets, we have a standing appointment to join the joyous shout of all creation. We are called to live in this world, God's world, with a deep-seated confidence and an irrepressible joy, knowing that the one who makes the dawn and sunset sing is the same one who has secured our salvation and who holds all things together by the word of His power.