The Pilgrim’s First Cry: Surrounded by Liars
Introduction: The First Step is a Cry for Help
We come now to the Songs of Ascents, that collection of psalms from 120 to 134. These were the pilgrim songs, the road trip playlist for the saints of God as they made their way up to Jerusalem for the great feasts. The journey was an upward one, not just geographically, but spiritually. And it is entirely fitting that this collection of psalms, this spiritual ascent, begins right here in Psalm 120. It begins in the mud and the mire. It begins in a world full of lies.
Before the pilgrim can even see the holy city on the horizon, he must first recognize the character of the unholy city where he currently lives. Before you can go up, you must first know that you are down. And where is down? It is a place of distress, a place defined by the lying lip and the deceitful tongue. This psalm is the initial cry of a man who has had it up to here with the constant, buzzing, soul-crushing noise of falsehood. He is a resident alien in a world that hates the truth, and by extension, hates the God of truth.
Our modern world thinks of lies as a social lubricant, a necessary evil, or perhaps just a branding strategy. We are marinated in deceit, from the highest levels of government and media down to the petty falsehoods we tell ourselves. We are told that "your truth" is what matters, which is just a polite way of saying that the truth does not matter at all. Into this relativistic swamp, the psalmist’s cry is a blast of cold, clean air. He knows that lies are not trivial. They are weapons. They are poison. And he knows that the only deliverance from them is found in God.
This psalm, therefore, is the necessary starting point for any true worship. It is a prayer for extraction. It is the recognition that we are living behind enemy lines, and the first order of business is to call for air support. We are surrounded by those who hate peace because they are children of the father of lies. Our desire for the truth of God's courts must begin with a holy revulsion for the lies of the world's courts.
The Text
In my distress I called to Yahweh, And He answered me.
O Yahweh, deliver my soul from a lying lip, From a deceitful tongue.
What shall He give to you, and what shall He add to you, O deceitful tongue?
Sharp arrows of the warrior, With the burning coals of the broom tree.
Woe is me, for I sojourn in Meshech, For I dwell among the tents of Kedar!
Too long has my soul had its dwelling With those who hate peace.
I am for peace, but when I speak, They are for war.
(Psalm 120:1-7 LSB)
The Fundamental Transaction (v. 1-2)
The psalm opens with the most basic and essential spiritual transaction known to man.
"In my distress I called to Yahweh, And He answered me. O Yahweh, deliver my soul from a lying lip, From a deceitful tongue." (Psalm 120:1-2)
The psalmist begins with a testimony. "I called... and He answered." This is the bedrock of faith. Prayer is not throwing wishes at the sky; it is a transaction with the living God who hears and responds. The distress is the occasion for the call. God does not waste our troubles; He uses them to drive us to Himself. And what is the specific nature of this distress? It is the assault of words. "Deliver my soul from a lying lip, from a deceitful tongue."
Notice that this is a soul-level attack. Lies are not just inaccurate data points; they are spiritual attacks aimed at the very core of our being. A lying lip speaks falsehood, but a deceitful tongue is more insidious. It uses truth, half-truth, and clever framing to mislead, to slander, to destroy. It is the tongue of the serpent in the garden, the tongue of the false witnesses against Christ. It is the native language of hell (John 8:44).
In our therapeutic age, we are told that "words can never hurt me." The Bible knows better. Words can kill. Slander, gossip, and deceit are forms of murder. They assassinate character, destroy reputations, and poison relationships. The psalmist understands he is in a fight for his life, and his only recourse is to appeal to the God of truth. He doesn't argue with the liars. He doesn't try to "cancel" them. He turns to God and says, "Deliver me." This is the first mark of a true pilgrim: he knows where his help comes from.
The Justice of God Against Lies (v. 3-4)
Having cried out for deliverance, the psalmist now turns his attention to the liar and considers the liar's ultimate fate under a just God.
"What shall He give to you, and what shall He add to you, O deceitful tongue? Sharp arrows of the warrior, With the burning coals of the broom tree." (Psalm 120:3-4)
This is a rhetorical question addressed to the deceitful tongue itself. "What do you think you're going to get out of this? What is your final reward?" The answer is not pleasant. The answer is judgment, described with two vivid images. First, "sharp arrows of the warrior." Lies are like arrows shot from a bow, intended to wound from a distance. God's response is to turn that very weapon back on the liar. His arrows are sharper, His aim is truer, and His justice is inescapable. The punishment fits the crime. You live by the arrow, you die by the arrow.
The second image is "burning coals of the broom tree." The wood of the broom tree was known for burning extremely hot and for a very long time. This is a picture of a slow, intense, and enduring judgment. Lies may flash and sparkle for a moment, but the fire of God's wrath against them burns long and hot. This is what we call an imprecatory prayer. It is not a sinful desire for personal revenge. It is a holy longing for God to act justly, to vindicate truth, and to bring an end to the destructive power of deceit. To pray for God's justice is to pray for the establishment of His kingdom, where lies will have no place.
An Alien in a Barbarian Land (v. 5-6)
The psalmist now broadens his lament from the specific attacks of liars to the general environment in which he is forced to live.
"Woe is me, for I sojourn in Meshech, For I dwell among the tents of Kedar! Too long has my soul had its dwelling With those who hate peace." (Psalm 120:5-6)
Meshech was a territory to the far north, near the Black Sea. Kedar was a nomadic tribe in the Arabian desert to the south. The psalmist is not giving us his mailing address. He is using these two locations as metaphors for the barbarian hinterlands. He is saying, "I feel like I am living among savages, a civilized man surrounded by violent and uncivilized people." He is a sojourner, a temporary resident, an exile. This is the condition of every believer in this world. We are strangers and aliens (1 Peter 2:11). Our citizenship is in heaven, and we are living in a hostile, foreign land.
And what is the defining characteristic of this land? Its inhabitants "hate peace." This is not just a political statement. The ultimate peace is peace with God. Those who are at war with God will inevitably be at war with His people. They hate the peace that comes from submission to Christ's lordship. They prefer the chaos of their autonomy, the conflict of their rebellion. The psalmist has lived there "too long." Every believer who has walked with the Lord for any length of time knows this feeling. We grow weary of the constant strife, the endless contention, the spiritual friction of living in a world that is fundamentally opposed to our King.
The Unbridgeable Divide (v. 7)
The psalm concludes with a simple, stark summary of the pilgrim's predicament.
"I am for peace, but when I speak, They are for war." (Psalm 120:7)
Here is the tragic impasse. The believer's disposition is for peace. The Hebrew is simply "I peace" (ani shalom). His very nature, conformed to the Prince of Peace, is oriented toward reconciliation, harmony, and goodwill. But his environment is hostile to it. He speaks words of peace, perhaps offering the gospel, perhaps simply speaking truth in a straightforward manner, and the response is aggression.
This is the experience of Christ Himself. He came offering the ultimate peace, and they crucified Him. The world's response to the gospel is often not intellectual disagreement but outright hostility. "When I speak, they are for war." Why? Because the truth is a declaration of war on their lies. The light is a declaration of war on their darkness. The offer of peace through the blood of Christ is a declaration of war on their proud self-sufficiency. There can be no neutrality. To speak of peace in the name of Jesus is to draw a line in the sand, and those who hate that peace will always choose war.
Conclusion: The Pilgrim's Resolve
So what is the lesson for us, the modern pilgrims on our own ascent? First, we must recognize where we are. We are in Meshech. We are in Kedar. We are surrounded by lying lips and those who hate peace. To pretend otherwise is to be dangerously naive. Our culture is not a neutral playground; it is a spiritual warzone, and the primary weapon of the enemy is deceit.
Second, we must know what to do about it. We must do what the psalmist did. In our distress, we must call upon the Lord. We do not combat lies with cleverer lies. We combat them by appealing to the God of all truth. We must pray for deliverance for our own souls, and we must pray for the arrows of God's justice to strike their targets.
Finally, we must understand our own posture. We are for peace. We are ambassadors of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:20). We offer the terms of surrender to a rebellious world, terms written in the blood of the Lamb. But we must not be surprised when the response is war. Our words of peace will sound like battle cries to those whose entire reality is built on a foundation of lies. This is the pilgrim's paradox. We must be men of peace who are ready for a fight.
This psalm is the first step. It is the cry of a man who knows he is in the wrong place and longs for the right one. It is the prayer that fuels the entire journey up to the city of God, that heavenly Jerusalem where truth reigns, where peace is the native tongue, and where every lip will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.