The God Who Marches: Presence, Power, and Provision Text: Psalm 68:7-10
Introduction: A God on the Move
We modern Christians have a tendency to domesticate God. We want a God who fits neatly into our quiet times, our church buildings, and our respectable suburban lives. We prefer a God who is stationary, predictable, and, if we are honest, manageable. But the God of the Bible, the God of Israel, is not a tame God. He is a God on the move. He is a warrior King who marches at the head of His people, and when He moves, the universe takes notice.
Psalm 68 is a triumphant, boisterous, and sprawling anthem celebrating this God. It begins with that great battle cry, "Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered." This is the song of a victorious procession, likely celebrating the bringing of the Ark of the Covenant to Zion. But as it unfolds, it looks back to the foundational event that defined Israel's identity: the Exodus. The God who is now establishing His throne in Jerusalem is the same God who tore a nation out of the jaws of an empire, led them through a howling wilderness, and met them in fire and thunder on a mountain.
Our text today is a miniature portrait of that grand march. It is a historical reflection, but it is more than that. It is a declaration of who God is for His people in every generation. He is the God who goes before us. He is the God whose presence shakes the very foundations of the created order. And He is the God who, in His goodness, provides for the needy and establishes His inheritance. We must understand that this is not just poetry about something that happened a long time ago. This is a description of the God we deal with. This is the God who has marched into our lives through the gospel of His Son. And when He marches, everything changes.
The Text
O God, when You went forth before Your people,
When You marched through the wasteland, Selah.
The earth quaked;
The heavens also dripped rain at the presence of God;
Sinai itself quaked at the presence of God, the God of Israel.
You caused abundant rain to sprinkle down, O God;
You established Your inheritance when it was parched.
Your creatures inhabited it;
You established it in Your goodness for the poor, O God.
(Psalm 68:7-10 LSB)
The Divine Warrior on the March (v. 7-8)
The psalmist begins by calling to mind the central, defining act of God in the Old Testament, the Exodus and the wilderness journey.
"O God, when You went forth before Your people, When You marched through the wasteland, Selah. The earth quaked; The heavens also dripped rain at the presence of God; Sinai itself quaked at the presence of God, the God of Israel." (Psalm 68:7-8)
Notice the posture of God. He is not carried in a golden box by the people; He goes "forth before" them. He is the vanguard. He is the one clearing the way. This is the picture of a divine warrior leading His army into contested territory. The wasteland, the wilderness, was not a neutral place. It was a place of death, of demons, of desolation. But God marches right through it. He does not teleport His people to the promised land; He leads them through the hardship. The Christian life is not a helicopter ride out of trouble; it is a march through it, but with a King at our head.
And what happens when God marches? The creation itself convulses. "The earth quaked." This is not metaphorical language for "it was very impressive." This is a reference to the theophany at Sinai, where the mountain trembled violently at the arrival of Yahweh (Exodus 19:18). The created order is not impervious to the Creator. It responds to His presence. When the King of the universe shows up, the ground on which you stand knows it. This is a profound polemic against all forms of materialism that would see the universe as a closed, mechanical system. The universe is God's house, and it trembles when He walks through the halls.
Not only the earth, but the heavens "dripped rain at the presence of God." The sky weeps in awe. This is the language of power and authority. The pagan gods of the Canaanites, like Baal, were supposedly in charge of the rain. The psalmist is declaring that it is Yahweh, the God of Israel, who commands the heavens. He doesn't need to fight some cosmic battle for control of the weather; the clouds simply obey His presence. The shaking of Sinai is mentioned specifically because Sinai was the place of covenant. It was where God formally married His people. The shaking of the mountain was the awesome display of the husband's glory and power, a terrifying and glorious reality for the people He was claiming as His own.
The Selah invites us to pause and consider this. Meditate on the fact that your God is of such a stature that the planet shakes when He passes by. This is not a God to be trifled with. This is not a buddy or a cosmic therapist. This is the holy, awesome, terrifying, and glorious God of Israel. And He is for us.
The Gracious Provider for the Parched (v. 9)
From the terrifying display of power, the psalm immediately pivots to the tender display of provision.
"You caused abundant rain to sprinkle down, O God; You established Your inheritance when it was parched." (Psalm 68:9)
The same God whose presence makes mountains quake is the one who sends a gentle, abundant rain. The word for "abundant rain" here speaks of a generous, willing gift. This is not a grudging provision. God is not stingy. After the awesome display of power, which could rightly cause fear, He shows His fatherly care. He knows what His people need.
He sends this rain to establish His "inheritance when it was parched." Who is His inheritance? Deuteronomy 32:9 tells us plainly: "For the LORD's portion is His people; Jacob is the allotment of His inheritance." We are His inheritance. We are the parched land. In the wilderness, Israel was physically thirsty and exhausted. But this points to a deeper reality. In our sin, we are spiritually parched, dry, and barren. We are a wasteland, incapable of producing any fruit for God.
And what does God do? He sends the rain of His grace. He pours out His Spirit. This is what the prophets promised, that God would "pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground" (Isaiah 44:3). The same presence that shakes the mountains is the presence that refreshes the soul. He doesn't just give us enough to get by; He sends an "abundant" rain. Our God is a God of glorious superabundance. He doesn't just quench our thirst; He establishes us, makes us firm, and secures us as His treasured possession.
The Good Shepherd for the Poor (v. 10)
The result of God's gracious provision is that His people can live and thrive where there was once only desolation.
"Your creatures inhabited it; You established it in Your goodness for the poor, O God." (Psalm 68:10)
"Your creatures" here can also be translated as "Your flock" or "Your host." It refers to the congregation of Israel. Where there was once a parched wasteland, a flock now dwells securely. God does not just rescue His people from Egypt; He settles them in a place of blessing. He makes a home for them.
And notice the reason. He does all this "in Your goodness for the poor, O God." The "poor" here are the humble, the afflicted, the needy. This is not primarily about economic status, though it includes that. It is about spiritual posture. It refers to those who know they are helpless and have no resources in themselves. It is the opposite of the proud, the self-sufficient, and the rebellious. God's goodness is directed specifically toward those who recognize their bankruptcy before Him. As Mary sang in her Magnificat, "He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty" (Luke 1:53).
God establishes His people. He makes a place for them. He provides for them. He does it out of His sheer goodness. And He does it for those who know they don't deserve it. This is the heart of the gospel. We are the poor. We are the parched inheritance. We are the flock with no pasture. And God, in His goodness, has marched into our desolation.
Christ the Divine Warrior
This entire picture finds its ultimate fulfillment in the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the one who went forth before His people. He marched through the ultimate wasteland, the wilderness of sin and death. He went before us to the cross.
When He did, the earth quaked again. When Jesus gave up His spirit, "the earth shook, and the rocks were split" (Matthew 27:51). The heavens grew dark. The presence of God was dealing with the sin of the world in the person of His Son, and creation groaned and trembled in response. The cross was the ultimate Sinai, the place where the terrifying holiness of God and the covenant-making love of God met in a world-shattering collision.
And from that cross, what flows? An abundant rain. The water and the blood that flowed from His pierced side are the fountain of grace for a parched world. Through His death and resurrection, He has poured out the Holy Spirit upon His inheritance, His people. He has taken us, the spiritually poor, the bankrupt, the needy, and He has established us in His goodness. He has brought us into His flock and made us to dwell securely in Him.
The God who marched through the wilderness for Israel is the God who has marched out of the tomb for us. He is still on the move. He is still going before His people, leading us through the wastelands of this life. And His presence is still a terrifying reality for His enemies and an abundant, life-giving rain for His people. He is still the God who makes the mountains tremble, and He is still the God who in His goodness provides for the poor. Therefore, let us follow our warrior King with confidence and with joy, knowing that the one who leads us is the Lord of heaven and earth.