The Fool's Sickbed and God's Prescription Text: Psalm 107:17-22
Introduction: The Self-Help Lie
We live in an age that has perfected the art of the alibi. Modern man is a master of evasion, a virtuoso of victimhood. Our therapeutic culture has taught us to locate the source of our problems anywhere but within ourselves. It was my upbringing. It was my environment. It was my brain chemistry. It was systemic injustice. It was anything and everything except my own transgression, my own iniquity, my own foolishness.
The world has a thousand diagnoses for our misery, and every last one of them is designed to let us off the hook. Consequently, the world has a thousand remedies, and every one of them is a lie. They tell you to look within for your strength, to manifest your own reality, to speak your truth. This is the gospel of self-help, which is really no gospel at all. It is the equivalent of telling a man drowning in quicksand that the solution is to pull himself up by his own bootstraps. It is not just unhelpful; it is cruel. It is a damnable lie because it keeps men from the only one who can actually help them.
The Bible, in stark contrast, does not flatter us. It tells us the truth, and the truth is often brutal before it is beautiful. The truth is that a great deal of our misery is home-brewed. We are the architects of our own afflictions. We forge our own chains. We mix our own poisons. And until we are ready to admit this, we are not yet ready to be healed. Psalm 107 gives us four case studies of God's steadfast love in action, delivering His people from various troubles. The section before us today deals with the third category of rescued men, and it is perhaps the most relevant for our self-deceived generation. It is the story of fools who made themselves sick with their sin, and the God who healed them anyway when they finally cried out to Him.
This is not a message our world wants to hear. It wants a God who affirms, not a God who afflicts. It wants a God who enables, not a God who saves. But the God of the Bible is not a cosmic therapist; He is a holy Father. And because He is a good Father, He is not afraid to use the bitter medicine of affliction to bring His foolish children to their senses. This passage is a severe mercy. It is a diagnosis that wounds in order to heal, and it provides the only prescription that can ever truly cure the soul-sickness of sin.
The Text
Ignorant fools, because of their way of transgression,
And because of their iniquities, were afflicted.
Their soul abhorred all kinds of food,
And they reached the gates of death.
Then they cried out to Yahweh in their trouble;
He saved them out of their distresses.
He sent His word and healed them,
And provided them escape from their destructions.
Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness,
And for His wondrous deeds to the sons of men!
Let them also offer sacrifices of thanksgiving,
And recount His works with joyful singing.
(Psalm 107:17-22 LSB)
The Sickness of Sin (v. 17-18)
The psalmist begins with a blunt and unflattering diagnosis.
"Ignorant fools, because of their way of transgression, And because of their iniquities, were afflicted. Their soul abhorred all kinds of food, And they reached the gates of death." (Psalm 107:17-18)
The Bible does not mince words. The subjects here are "fools." In Scripture, a fool is not someone with a low IQ. A fool is a moral category. The fool is the one who says in his heart, "There is no God" (Ps. 14:1). He is the one who lives as though God does not matter, as though God's laws are irrelevant, as though his own desires are ultimate. And this psalm tells us exactly how this foolishness manifests: in "their way of transgression" and "their iniquities."
Notice the direct causal link. "Because of" their sin, they "were afflicted." This is covenantal cause-and-effect. This is the law of the harvest: you reap what you sow. This is not to say that all suffering is the direct result of a specific, personal sin. Job's friends made that error, and God rebuked them for it. The disciples made that error with the man born blind (John 9:2). But it is a massive overcorrection, and a profoundly unbiblical one, to say that no suffering is the result of personal sin. This passage states it plainly. These fools are in a hospital bed of their own making.
Their affliction is described in stark terms. Their soul "abhorred all kinds of food." This is a picture of profound life-sickness. Food is necessary for life, and a healthy appetite is a sign of a healthy body. When someone is so sick that the very thought of nourishment is repulsive, you know they are in a bad way. Sin does this to the soul. It corrupts our appetites. We begin to hate what is good for us, God's Word, fellowship, prayer, and we begin to crave what is poison. The fool in his transgression loses his taste for the bread of life and finds himself starving, yet disgusted by the only thing that can save him.
The end result of this self-induced spiritual anorexia is that "they reached the gates of death." Sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death (James 1:15). This is not just a metaphor. A life of debauchery, drunkenness, sexual license, and bitterness will quite literally destroy your body. But more than that, it brings you to the precipice of eternal death, to the very gates of Hell. The fool thinks his path of transgression is the path of freedom and life, but it is a dead-end street. He is knocking on death's door, and it is about to open.
The Desperate Cry and the Divine Word (v. 19-20)
Just when all hope seems lost, the fool finally does the one thing he should have done in the first place.
"Then they cried out to Yahweh in their trouble; He saved them out of their distresses. He sent His word and healed them, And provided them escape from their destructions." (Psalm 107:19-20)
Notice the word "Then." It is at the lowest point, at the gates of death, with nowhere else to turn, that they finally cry out. This is the kindness of God in affliction. God will often let us run to the end of our own rope, because it is only when we are hanging over the abyss that we are finally willing to look up. He brings us to the end of ourselves so that we might come to the beginning of Him. Their prayer is not eloquent. It is a cry. It is the desperate, raw plea of a man who knows he is finished.
And God's response is immediate and gracious. "He saved them out of their distresses." He does not say, "Well, you made your bed, now you can lie in it." He does not demand a period of probation to see if they are really serious. The moment the cry of repentance and dependence goes up, the hand of salvation comes down. This is the nature of our God. His mercy is not a trickle; it is a flood.
And how does He save them? This is crucial. "He sent His word and healed them." God's primary instrument of healing and salvation is His Word. This is true in the physical realm; Jesus healed the centurion's servant simply by speaking a word from a distance (Matt. 8:8-13). It is true in creation; God spoke and the universe came into being. And it is supremely true in our salvation. God's Word is not mere information; it is a creative, powerful, life-giving force. When God speaks, things happen.
This points us directly to the Gospel. Who is the ultimate Word that God sent to heal us? "In the beginning was the Word... and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:1, 14). Jesus Christ is the Word of God incarnate, sent to heal us from the ultimate sickness of sin and to rescue us from our ultimate destruction. He is the divine prescription. He is the cure. Our healing does not come from our own efforts or resolutions. It comes from an external, powerful, divine Word spoken over us and sent to us. God spoke Jesus into the world to save us, and He speaks His gospel into our hearts by the Spirit to apply that salvation.
The Obligatory Response: Thanksgiving (v. 21-22)
Having been rescued from the brink of death by sheer grace, there is only one appropriate response. The psalmist now turns from narration to exhortation.
"Let them give thanks to Yahweh for His lovingkindness, And for His wondrous deeds to the sons of men! Let them also offer sacrifices of thanksgiving, And recount His works with joyful singing." (Psalm 107:21-22)
This is the refrain of the entire psalm, and it is the central duty of the redeemed man. "Let them give thanks." Thanksgiving is not an optional extra for the sentimental. It is the fundamental posture of the creature before the Creator, and especially of the saved sinner before the Savior. To be ungrateful is the essence of paganism (Rom. 1:21). To be grateful is the essence of true faith.
What are they to be thankful for? Two things. First, for "His lovingkindness." This is the great Hebrew word hesed. It is covenant loyalty, steadfast love, undeserved mercy. They are to thank God not just for the deliverance, but for the character of the God who delivers. He saved them not because they were worthy, but because He is merciful. Our gratitude must be rooted in the goodness of God, not in our own perceived value.
Second, they are to be thankful for "His wondrous deeds." God's love is not an abstract sentiment; it is active. It accomplishes things. It saves. It heals. It provides escape. We are to be specific in our gratitude. We should be able to point to the mighty acts of God in history, in the cross and resurrection, and in our own lives.
This thanksgiving is not to be a private, internal feeling. It must be expressed. "Let them also offer sacrifices of thanksgiving." In the Old Covenant, this was a literal peace offering. In the New Covenant, we offer the sacrifice of praise, the fruit of our lips (Heb. 13:15). We are to gather as the people of God and publicly give Him thanks. This is what we do every Lord's Day. The Eucharist itself is the great Thanksgiving meal.
And we are to "recount His works with joyful singing." Our testimony is a weapon. We are to tell the story of our rescue. We were fools. We were sick with our own sin. We were at death's door. We cried out. He sent His Word, Jesus, and He healed us. This is the story we have to tell, and we are to tell it with joy. A sullen Christian is a contradiction in terms. A saved man who does not sing is an anomaly. The joy of our salvation should be audible.
Conclusion: From Fool to Worshiper
The journey described in these verses is the journey of every single Christian. We were all ignorant fools. We all walked in the way of transgression. We were all afflicted with the terminal soul-sickness of our own iniquities. We had no appetite for God, and we were at the gates of death.
But God, in His rich mercy, did not leave us there. He brought us to the end of ourselves. He orchestrated our troubles and our distresses so that we would have nowhere else to look but up. And when we finally cried out to Him, He did not hesitate. He sent His Son, the eternal Word, who went to the cross to take our foolishness and our sickness upon Himself. He went through the gates of death for us, so that we might be healed.
He sent His Word and He healed us. This is the gospel. And because this is true, our lives must now be characterized by the final verses of this passage. We are to be a people of perpetual thanksgiving. We are to offer our entire lives as a sacrifice of praise. And we are to joyfully sing the story of our redemption to anyone who will listen.
So, do you see yourself in this passage? Have you owned your foolishness? Have you recognized that your deepest problems are not "out there" but "in here?" Have you cried out to the Lord in your trouble? If you have, then He has saved you. He has sent His Word and healed you. Therefore, let us give thanks to the Lord. Let us offer our sacrifices of praise. And let us recount His works with joyful singing, now and forever.