The Terrible Meekness of God Text: Psalm 76:7-10
Introduction: The Modern Allergy to Fear
We live in a sentimental age, an age that has domesticated God. Our generation wants a God who is more of a celestial therapist than a consuming fire. We want a God who affirms, who validates, who pats us on the back, but we have no category for a God who is, as the psalmist says, fearsome. The modern church, in many quarters, has developed a severe allergy to the fear of the Lord. We have traded the terror of Sinai for the tranquil affirmations of a self-help seminar. We have exchanged the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for a God who is respectable, manageable, and, quite frankly, boring.
But the God of the Bible is not safe. He is good, but He is not safe. He is a lion, not a kitten. And this psalm, Psalm 76, is a potent antidote to our trivializing tendencies. It is a song of triumph, celebrating God's victory over His enemies. It reminds us that our God is a warrior King who breaks the bow and shatters the spear, and who rises to execute judgment. This is not a God you trifle with. This is not a God you can put in your pocket.
The world fears many things. It fears economic collapse, political instability, climate change, and irrelevance. But it does not fear God. And because it does not fear God, all its other fears are amplified and distorted. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, which means that the refusal to fear God is the beginning of terminal foolishness. And that foolishness is on full display all around us. When men will not fear God, they will fear everything else. They will fear a virus, they will fear pronouns, they will fear the weather. But the man who fears God is liberated from all lesser fears.
This passage confronts us with the stark reality of God's character. He is fearsome in His anger, silent in His judgment, and sovereign over the very wrath of His enemies. And in the middle of this terrifying portrait, He rises to save the humble. This is the great paradox of the gospel. The God who is a terror to the proud is a refuge for the meek. His fearsomeness is the very foundation of our security.
The Text
But You, You are fearsome; And who can stand in Your presence when once You are angry? You made Your cause to be heard from heaven; The earth feared and was quiet When God arose to judgment, To save all the humble of the earth. Selah. For the wrath of man shall praise You; With a remnant of wrath You will gird Yourself.
(Psalm 76:7-10 LSB)
The Unbearable Holiness of God (v. 7)
The psalmist turns from the defeated enemies of God to address God directly.
"But You, You are fearsome; And who can stand in Your presence when once You are angry?" (Psalm 76:7)
The repetition of "You" emphasizes the stark contrast. The mighty kings of the earth are nothing; their chariots and horses are asleep. But You. You are the one to be feared. The word "fearsome" is not just about being impressive or awe-inspiring. It carries the weight of genuine terror. This is the kind of fear that makes your knees knock. This is the kind of fear that Isaiah felt when he saw the Lord high and lifted up and cried, "Woe is me! For I am lost!"
Why is God fearsome? Because He is holy. His anger is the automatic, righteous, and utterly pure reaction of His holiness against sin. We have tried to declaw the anger of God, treating it as some embarrassing, primitive attribute that a more enlightened age can dispense with. But a god who is never angry at sin is not a holy god. A god who is indifferent to child-trafficking, to murder, to blasphemy, to arrogance, is a moral monster. The anger of God is not like our petty, selfish tantrums. His anger is the white-hot purity of His love for righteousness and His hatred for evil. It is His justice in motion.
And the psalmist asks the ultimate rhetorical question: "who can stand in Your presence when once You are angry?" The answer is, of course, no one. Not in their own strength. Not on their own merits. When God's anger is kindled, all human pride, all self-righteousness, all our pathetic little resumes of good deeds, are consumed like dry stubble in a furnace. This is the terror of the law. This is the reality that drives us to the gospel. You cannot stand before this fearsome God. You must fall before Him. And if you will not fall in repentance, you will be flattened by judgment.
The Awful Silence of Judgment (vv. 8-9)
The scene then shifts from God's character to His decisive action in judgment.
"You made Your cause to be heard from heaven; The earth feared and was quiet When God arose to judgment, To save all the humble of the earth. Selah." (Psalm 76:8-9)
God's judgment is not a back-room deal. It is a public proclamation from heaven. He does not mumble. His verdict thunders. And the response of the earth is telling. It "feared and was quiet." This is not the quiet of peace, but the stunned, breathless silence of a courtroom when the judge enters. All the noisy rebellion, all the arrogant posturing, all the defiant shouts of sinful men cease. When God arises, all creation holds its breath.
We live in a noisy, clamorous world. Everyone has an opinion, everyone is shouting. The wicked are loud. Their rebellion is boisterous. But there is a day coming when God will arise, and all that noise will stop. A profound and terrible silence will fall upon the whole earth. In that silence, every mouth will be stopped, and the whole world will be held accountable to God.
But notice the purpose of this terrifying judgment. God arises "To save all the humble of the earth." This is the gospel at the heart of the storm. The same act of judgment that silences the proud is the very act that saves the humble. God's judgment is a two-edged sword. For the arrogant and defiant, it is condemnation. For the meek, for those who have taken refuge in Him, it is deliverance. God does not just save us from our sins; He saves us from our enemies. He saves us by judging our enemies. The cross was the ultimate act of judgment. God arose in judgment against sin and poured out His wrath upon His own Son. And in that same act, He saved all the humble who would ever believe.
And then we have that word, "Selah." Stop. Pause here. Think about this. Let the weight of it sink in. The silence of the earth under judgment, and the salvation of the humble. This is a truth to be meditated on. Don't rush past it. The God who makes the whole world shut up is the same God who bends down to save the lowly. Ponder that.
Sovereign Judo (v. 10)
Verse 10 contains one of the most profound statements in all of Scripture about the absolute sovereignty of God.
"For the wrath of man shall praise You; With a remnant of wrath You will gird Yourself." (Psalm 76:10)
This is a staggering claim. Not only does God defeat the wrath of man, He makes it serve His own purposes. He turns it back on itself to bring Him praise. Think about that. The very rebellion, the very hatred, the very defiance that men shake in God's face, He co-opts and uses as an instrument of His own glory. This is divine judo. God uses the momentum of His enemies to throw them.
The supreme example of this is the cross of Christ. The wrath of Judas, the wrath of the Sanhedrin, the wrath of Pilate, the wrath of the mob, all conspired to murder the Son of God. This was the pinnacle of human wrath, the most wicked act in the history of the world. And what did God do with it? He used it to accomplish the salvation of the world. Their greatest act of rebellion became the centerpiece of God's plan of redemption. Their wrath praised Him. It displayed His wisdom, His justice, His mercy, and His love. It became the theme of eternal anthems of praise.
This is true of all human wrath. The persecution of the early church by Rome only served to spread the gospel throughout the empire. The attempts by secularists to drive Christianity from the public square only serve to purify the church and expose the bankruptcy of their own worldview. The rage of the LGBTQ lobby against God's created order only serves to highlight the beauty and goodness of that order for those with eyes to see. God takes the lemons of man's wrath and makes lemonade.
And the second clause is just as potent: "With a remnant of wrath You will gird Yourself." This means that God allows a certain amount of human wrath to be unleashed, the amount that will serve His purposes. The rest of it, the "remnant," He restrains. He puts a leash on it. He girds Himself with it, like a warrior putting on a belt. This means that no evil, no persecution, no suffering that befalls the people of God is random. It has all been measured and permitted by a sovereign God who is using it for His glory and for our good. The devil thinks he is advancing his kingdom, but he is only ever running errands for God. God is in absolute, meticulous control. The wrath of your enemies against you is not ultimate. God is. He will use what is necessary to praise Him, and the rest He will simply shut down.
Conclusion: Where Do You Stand?
This passage leaves us with no neutral ground. There are only two kinds of people in the world: the proud who will be silenced by God's judgment, and the humble who will be saved by it. There are only two responses to this fearsome God: defiance or fear. Arrogance or awe.
The wrath of man is a noisy, futile, and ultimately self-defeating thing. It is the impotent rage of a creature shaking his fist at the sky. But the wrath of God is a holy, terrifying, and cleansing fire. And you are on a collision course with that wrath, unless you have found a refuge.
The only place to stand when God is angry is behind the cross. The only one who could stand in God's presence was the one who was God Himself, Jesus Christ. And on the cross, He absorbed the full, undiluted fury of God's anger against our sin. He stood in the storm so that we could stand in the quiet aftermath. He faced the terror so we could find the peace.
Therefore, the call of the gospel is a call to humility. It is a call to stop your own striving, to lay down your own rebellious wrath, and to bow before the fearsome King of heaven. It is a call to fear Him, and in fearing Him, to be delivered from every other fear. When you see that the very wrath of your enemies is simply a tool in the hand of your heavenly Father, what is there left to be afraid of? He is fearsome, yes. But for those who are in Christ, His fearsomeness is our fortress. His anger has been satisfied. And He arises now, not to judge us, but to save us, the humble of the earth.