Why Are You Cast Down?

By Wendy Wood

In Psalm 42 and 43, the sons of Korah repeatedly say the phrase, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” These men are using a phrase familiar to shepherds.  A “cast down” sheep is one who has fallen over onto his back.  Sheep in this position are unable to right themselves.  They are completely helpless with their spindly legs and wide bodies to be able to turn over and get up.  This upside down position is extremely dangerous for sheep.  First of all, a sheep that is cast down is vulnerable to predators.  A wolf or coyote or bear could easily kill and eat a sheep that is upside down.  Secondly, the sheep’s four compartment stomach is in danger of building up gases that cut off circulation from the legs and result in death in a day or so.  A shepherd who has lost sight of one of his sheep will search carefully and diligently knowing that a missing sheep might be in trouble. A cast down sheep requires immediate action and the shepherd must restore the sheep’s blood flow and health to ensure the sheep will survive.

Phillip Keller from “A Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23” writes, 

“Again and again I would spend hours searching for a single sheep that was missing.  Then more often than not I would see it at a distance, down on its back, lying helpless.  At once I would start to run toward it - hurrying as fast as I could - for every minute was critical.  Within me there was a mingled sense of fear and joy: fear it might be too late; joy that it was found at all”.

The bible uses the analogy of sheep to describe God’s chosen people, believers in Christ who are adopted into God’s family.  Isaiah 53:6 says, “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”  We are like the helpless sheep who wander off and get turned upside down and are unable to right ourselves.  Psalm 79:13 says, “But we your people, the sheep of your pasture…”  and Psalm 119:176 says, “I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant, for I do not forget your commandments.”  When sheep are mentioned in scripture we should pay attention because these references tell us about our condition as humans.

The picture of sheep in the bible is to show us our true state of being.  We are dependent on God, our Shepherd for everything.  Sheep cannot find food for themselves, nor can they defend themselves against predators.  Left on their own, sheep will not survive.  Matthew 9:36 says sheep are harassed and helpless without a shepherd.  Without our Lord and Shepherd, we are doomed to eternal death.  We can do nothing to make ourselves “right” with God.

Sheep are foolish.  Sheep will leave a lush pasture of green grass to feed on brown dead grass for no reason.  Sheep cannot find their way back to their own sheep pen.  Sheep do not know or use wisdom to make decisions.  Psalm 73:22 tells us that we too were foolish and ignorant and “a beast” before we were called by God.  Without God and His wisdom, we are foolish and our lives are without purpose.

Sheep wander off and get lost.  Sheep may wander because they are scared and flee, but they cannot find their way home.  Sheep may wander because they are just following the other sheep, not aware of where they are going.  Sheep may wander because they are curious and want to inspect something interesting more closely.  All of these reasons take them away from their shepherd and lead them to danger.  Without a shepherd, sheep cannot survive.  Isaiah 53:6 says “we like sheep have gone astray” and Hosea 11:6 says that “My people are bent on backsliding from me”.  The picture of both sheep and God’s people is that we are prone to wander.  We are prone to chase after other gods and idols for happiness and satisfaction.  Just like sheep, we put ourselves in danger when we wander from God.

Sheep are also stubborn. In Psalm 23, David talks about the shepherd using a rod and staff to comfort the sheep.  A stubborn sheep who continues to wander off or pursue its own way, needs a rod of correction to keep it safe.  Shepherds must watch continually for sheep who insist on going away from the flock.  This is for the stubborn sheep’s protection and safety.

So in Psalm 42 and 43 where the sons of Korah talk about their own souls being “cast down”, they are making a reference to sheep.  They are saying they feel like sheep turned over on their backs and unable to get up or provide any help or hope to itself.  This Psalmist is stuck.  Most likely they have been “listening” to their own thoughts as they have been pursued by ungodly people and feel helpless to defend themselves.  Psalm 43 starts out with “Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause against ungodly people, from the deceitful and unjust man deliver me.”  This Psalm is written by people who are overwhelmed in sadness and hurt from being falsely accused and tormented by people who are evil.  Our souls become “cast down” when we start listening to ourselves rather than going to God as our Shepherd.

In what ways do we listen to ourselves and become cast down?

Firstly, like sheep who are careless and stand in soft, uneven ground and then fall over, God’s sheep become careless in the disciplines of grace and instead rely on grace of the past to sustain them.  When a believer gets lazy about spending time with God, trusting in God’s daily mercies and grace, and tries to sustain themselves through past grace, the believer falls too.  John Piper, in his book “Future Grace”, argues that each day we must trust in God’s grace for that day.  The promises of God, that He is with us, that His grace is enough, that we will spend eternity with Him, all are true because God daily supplies the grace to be faithful to His promises.  It is not enough to look at the past and cling to past grace, we must actively trust that God continues to provide what is needed every moment of the day.  It is only through repentance, humility, and God’s grace that we are “righted” from being cast down in self sufficiency.

Secondly, sheep tip over when their wool becomes too heavy and cumbersome to withstand.  The wool may have clumps of dirt and the sheep simply can’t stay on its feet.  God’s sheep are often weighed down by sin and distractions.  Hebrews 12:1 tells us to lay aside every weight and sin which so easily entangles us”.  Often the weight of pride is too great to withstand.  When we convince ourselves that our way is best, that we should have been treated better than we were, that we deserve better than we have, we are upside down in God’s kingdom.  God opposes the proud (James 4:6).  We are “cast down” when we think in opposition to God because we are deluding ourselves into thinking we are something that we are not.  Our pride blinds us and leaves us helpless, hovering near death.  There is nothing more dangerous to our souls that having God oppose us.

Sheep may also be cast down due to obesity.  A sheep may overeat out of foolishness and become so heavy it cannot stay upright. God’s sheep may became cast down when the interests and distractions of the world become too great.  When a believer is drawn into social media, news, materialism, or sexual immorality promoted by the culture, he may become cast down.  The mind is fed by worldliness rather than the Word of God.  We need God’s Word to transform our minds so that we are not conformed to the world.  We get stuck in sinful patterns of thoughts and desires and become unable to rescue ourselves.

But God has provided the help and hope we need when we are cast down!  Psalm 23 tells us that “He restores my soul”.  The word restore means to “turn back” or “turn again”.  When we are cast down, we are in need of God who “turns us back” to a right position with Him.

God is our faithful Shepherd who seeks diligently to find His fallen sheep and right them.  John 10 tells us that God is our good Shepherd.  He leads his own sheep by name (verse 3).  God goes before His sheep and His sheep follow Him (verse 4).  Jesus calls Himself the door where all true sheep can find pasture (verse 9).  Jesus is the only way to be “right” with God.  We must be made upright by the atonement of His blood for our sins as we receive salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone.  Verse 11 tells us Jesus is the good Shepherd who lays His life down for His sheep.  As the faithful, perfect Shepherd, no one is able to snatch God’s sheep from His hand (verse 29).  

In a “Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23”, Phillip Keller continues to describe a shepherd’s response:

“As soon as I reached the cast ewe my very first impulse was to pick it up.  Tenderly I would roll the sheep over on its side….  Then straddling the sheep with my legs I would hold her erect, rubbing her limbs to restore circulation to her legs.  This often took quite a little time.  When the sheep started to walk again she often just stumbled, staggered and collapsed in a heap once more.  All the time I worked on the cast sheep I would talk to it gently…. Always couched in language that combined tenderness and rebuke, compassion and correction.

Little by little the sheep would regain its equilibrium.  It would start to walk steadily and surely.  By and by it would dash away to rejoin the others, set free from its fears and frustrations, given another chance to live a little longer.”

As Keller was a careful, prudent shepherd, our Father and Shepherd is holy and perfect.  God through Christ has made a way for His sheep to be rescued and redeemed from their cast down position.  God offers His grace and mercy new every single day for us to trust and live by in whatever circumstances we face.  God gives us His word and perfect guidance for every situation.  2 Peter 1:3-4 says “ His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.”  We are foolish sheep who chase after worldliness or allow pride to distract from partaking in the divine nature.  We experience emotional sadness and despondency when we are choosing to be foolish, stubborn, wanderers from God’s word.

As the sons of Korah respond to their cast down souls, “Hope in God!” we need to do the same.  Don’t foolishly keep wandering or being stubborn about how you are living.  Speak truth to yourself.  “Hope in God!”. Remind yourself of God’s promises and choose to trust that He is faithful to keep them.  Rather than neglecting God’s word, fellowship with other believers, and prayer time alone with God, tell yourself “Hope in God” and then take steps to use the graces God has given you to grow in trusting Him more deeply.  

Footnotes and references used:

Joel Beeke, “The Lord Shepherding His Sheep” page 112.

Phillip Keller, “A Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23”, page 62

Joel Beeke, “The Lord Shepherding His Sheep”, pages 21-22
 Joel Beeke, “The Lord Shepherding His Sheep, page 113-114.  This blog is using his 3 ideas for why sheep become cast.
Phillip Keller, “A Shepherd’s Look at Psalm 23”, page 63.

PLEAD TO GOD LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT—BECAUSE IT DOES

Shar Walker 

When life gets hard, I find myself turning to slave narratives and Negro spirituals and poetry. That, and the book of Psalms.

The Negro spirituals remind me I come from a long line of men and women who have endured horrific seasons of excruciation that seemed eternal. These songs and poetry are evidence of my ancestors’ hope and faith that God heard them, even when it felt like their suffering had no end—even when it seemed like God was silent. It’s comforting reading and singing about the perseverance of others.

The Psalms remind me that my spiritual lineage goes back even farther to God’s people who are no strangers to lament (Ps. 6:6; 13:1–4; 102:1–11). From wilderness wanderings to prosperity to conquest to exile, the Israelites knew suffering as a close—and often unwanted—confidant.

THE POWER OF LAMENT

When we feel helpless, out of control, or scared, some of us are tempted to go into action mode. We do everything we can to ensure our suffering is minimized with little collateral damage.

But what if our first response was to sit in our mess and pray to God? What if, instead of trying to fix this, we were honest to God how we’re doing and what we’re feeling. What if we simply lamented?

Lament is crying out to God with no immediate hope of relief. Or as Canadian writer Jen Pollock Michel describes lament in Surprised by Paradox:

In language that seems hardly admissible in God’s throne room, as men and women pray to God, they try making faithful sense of the mystery of their suffering—and the love of God in the worst of circumstances. Lament, with its clear-eyed appraisal of suffering alongside its commitment to finding audience with God, is a paradoxical practice of faith.

In America, where we have come to expect prosperity, lament likely seems strange to many of us. Foreign, even. Biblically, there is a powerful history of lament—in the wilderness, throughout Psalms, during the exile.

As our hands crack from the ever-growing stain of soap and hand sanitizer and we breathe recycled air through masks, the current season of pandemic presents the joyous opportunity to have our faith strengthened through this foreign, but ancient, form of prayer.

REMEMBER GOD’S TRACK RECORD—IT’S GOOD

We’re forgetful beings. We’re prone to absent-mindedness. When life is good we tend to feel like we don’t need God.

We’re equally prone to forget God’s track record of faithfulness when things are bad because grief easily overwhelms us to the point where we can only see the despair of the moment. Looking forward—to the ever-growing ambiguity of the future—only causes more anxiety. The stress of what is can cloud our memory of what was. Sadness can blur our recollection of how God has shown up in the past.

In Psalm 44—a corporate psalm of lament—the psalmist begins by reminding readers of God’s goodness, a truth that had been passed down for generations. Truth celebrated by the covenant community. “God, we have heard with our ears—our ancestors have told us—the work you accomplished in their days, in days long ago” (Ps. 44:1).

We worship the same God as our spiritual ancestors. When we read stories that are thousands of years old and we hear the miraculous ways God showed up for his people, we can easily assume a “that was then, this is now” mentality. And yes, in some exegetical circumstances, this is true. Yet he’s still the same God. When moments come that make it hard to see God in our present times, we must not forget to look back. In her book, Michel goes on observing:

Lament was carried on in these acts of remembering. Whenever it became difficult to see God in the present, these ancient men and women conjured up scenes from the past. They let their story part the clouds of divine obscurity and tell them something about God’s nature.

Israel told and retold the story of their deliverance. They recalled and passed on to generations the narrative of God’s faithfulness despite their failures. Perhaps, in this season you need to be reminded of the Lord’s character. Remind your church how God has provided for you and been near to you in past seasons of suffering. As a church, remember and thank the Lord for the previous seasons of corporate trials you have endured.

DESCRIBE YOUR FRUSTRATION TO GOD IN DETAIL—HE CAN HANDLE IT

“Have you been honest with God about your disappointment?” I was shocked by the question from a trusted friend. I was more surprised that my answer was “no”.

Prepping and planning comes naturally to me in the face of unexpected change—prayer doesn’t. Honestly, I’d vented in my head and to my husband a bit, but I didn’t do much beyond that. There were people who have it much worse, so why complain about my small issues from the stresses of working from home with an infant?

But God doesn’t keep score when listening to our prayers. When we’ve completed our lament, he doesn’t follow up with, “Well, that person has it way worse so you should be grateful.” His ever-listening attentiveness is saying, “Tell me more.”

In Psalm 44:9-16, the psalmist details Israel’s national distress: “You hand us over to be eaten like sheep and scatter us among the nations” (Ps. 44:11).

Humiliation, disgrace, and shame are upon them as an unwanted covering. They felt the weight of all this humiliation, disgrace, and shame. The psalmist holds nothing back in his outpouring to the Father. Telling God of the present disaster and distress opens up an opportunity for one to recognize his merciful response. Again, Michel is so helpful here:

There is every indication that God’s mercy is as reliable for suffering that is banal as for suffering that is big. And this is one of the great mysteries of divine love, that I need make no defense for the worthiness of my trouble and the rightfulness of my need.

Of course, there are times we should be more grateful, but biblical lament invites us into an honest and vulnerable conversation with the Lord, no matter how seemingly big or small our problems.

PLEAD TO GOD LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT—BECAUSE IT DOES

Lament can feel like we’re praying to an empty room. We pour out our hearts to God, and it feels like he is silent. The psalmist exclaims, “Wake up, LORD! Why are you sleeping? Get up! Don’t reject us forever! . . . Rise up! Help us! Redeem us because of your faithful love” (Ps. 44:23, 26).

Over and over the psalmist comes back to the Lord and makes his pleas known boldly and clearly. In fact, his prayers of lament and his pleas to God are evidence of his faith.

Our faith in God likewise is strengthened through persistent prayer. After all, we keep returning to the throne room of grace because we believe God is still with us and hears us amid our trials. As soon as we forget this, our suffering appears unbearable.

At times, our life is full of tear-stained pleas to God. We come back, again and again and again, through prayer. We call out knowing he has a proven track record, realizing he can handle all our frustrations. We can cry out to him in honest petition.

He’s a God who hears, and he is a God who sees. He has heard the cries of our spiritual ancestors. Let’s lament knowing he hears our tear-stained pleas as well.

SharDavia “Shar” Walker lives in Atlanta, GA with her husband and son. She serves as the Senior Writer for the North American Mission Board (NAMB). Shar is a writer and a speaker and is currently pursuing an M.A. in Christian Studies at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. You can find more of her work at www.sharwalker.com.

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Grumbling: A Family Tradition

David McLemore 

So, how’s your quarantine going?

Isn’t it wonderful? We can’t go anywhere. We can’t do anything. All our plans are canceled. Maybe you can work from home like me, but I find it just makes my house unbearable at times. My kids are stir-crazy and I’m ready to get back to normal.

Normal. Remember those good old days? Like when we went to restaurants and sporting events and concerts. We had all we needed. But now? Look at us now. We’re basically prisoners! And for what? A virus? Come on!

Whose fault is this anyway? Surely, “they” could’ve stopped this. It didn’t have to be this bad. But they’re a bunch of failures. We always knew it, didn’t we? Can’t get anything right on a normal day, and when crisis knocks on the door, well, there goes our lives.

A LONG LINE OF GRUMBLERS

If walls could talk, would they, like a child, repeat the echoes of your grumbling? Mine would. I’m an expert grumbler. It’s too cold in winter and too hot in summer. The food was good but the service was slow. The night was long but sleep was short. Nothing is ever just right. Has it ever been? Reading the Bible, it appears my disposition isn’t mine alone. We come from a long line of grumblers.

Perhaps nowhere in the Bible is this clearer than in the story of Israel’s wanderings during the Exodus from Egypt. While isolated in the desert, God’s people quarreled with Moses because there was no water to drink—admittedly a big problem in the middle of the desert (Ex. 17:1–2). Moses responded by asking, “‘Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?’ But the people thirsted there for water, and the people grumbled against Moses” (Ex. 17:3).

This was hardly their first go at grumbling. By chapter 17, they’ve been at it for a solid two months as they entered the Desert of Sin (Ex. 15:24; 16:2, 7–9, 12). Yes, God led them out of slavery in Egypt but their nomadic desert life didn’t satisfy their appetites. Oh, remember the meat pots and fullness of bread in Egypt! Better to die there with full bellies and no freedoms than in deliverance with empty stomachs! Does God know what he’s doing?

The middle chapters of Exodus (15–17) are a master class in the art of grumbling. Paul said, “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction” (Rom. 15:4). But rather than submitting to the tutelage, I find my proverbial stomach too empty. I place myself among the frustrated Israelites, joining their ranks instead of learning their lessons. Who can blame me? It’s a family tradition.

DO ALL THINGS WITHOUT GRUMBLING

As the pages turn from the Old to New Testament, the family line and its tendencies don’t appear to improve very much. We don’t have the contextual details as we do with our desert-dwelling ancestors, but we find the Apostle Paul confronting what must have been a similar situation in the Philippian church. “Do all things without grumbling,” he says (Phil. 2:14).

Were they hungry and thirsty too? Did they find God less than who he promised to be?

I hear Paul’s words and I want to obey. I really do. The problem is, it’s hard. Some people seem never to have had a bad day. I wonder if I’ve ever had a good one. And these days of quarantine aren’t helping.

Every hour brings worse news than before. Sure, I have my moments of peace and contentment. But in all things? What do you mean by all, Paul?

Maybe it’ll help to define the word grumbling.

NO COMPLAINT OR DISPUTE

Grumbling must be distinct from complaint. Complaint feels too formal. I never go that far. I’m not filling out a form or sending an email. I’m not bringing this before the elders or anything. I’m just voicing my displeasure—informally and off the cuff, you know? No big deal, really. It’ll pass.

A complaint might get me somewhere, but I’m not looking for a handout. I’m not the kind of person who wants to speak to the manager. I just hope the waiter overhears me wondering where he is. I hope he sees my face as I take that first bite of less-than-expected taste. I just hope the two-star Facebook review I posted is filled with agreeing comments. Maybe things will start to change then, but probably not.

The real difference, in my opinion, lies here: a complaint gets you something you feel cheated out of, but that’s not my angle. I’d much rather let everyone know it’s their general failure in life that’s caused my displeasure. You know, like God leading a people into the desert with a meek leader like Moses and a severe lack of basic provisions like food and water. How can someone like that be trusted in trying times?

So maybe the lesson is this: to complain is to ask God why he’s not giving water in the desert and plead for him to provide; to grumble is to say there’s not water because God doesn’t care. The first seeks to obtain something. The other seeks only to destroy.

In Philippians 2:14, Paul commands the people not to grumble but also not to dispute. Grumbling rarely disputes anyone’s decisions. It doesn’t rise that high. It lays low in the water, like the roar of a wave that comes crashing all around. It might get you wet, which can be annoying, and it has enough salt and sand to rub you the wrong way, but the grumble isn’t there to argue. Arguing requires facts and reasoning. Grumbles don’t. The grumble grows out of emotions. The catalyst is the way one feels, which influences the way one thinks. The grumble doesn’t want to take anyone to court; it just wants everything fixed—now.

ACCUSATION

The problem, however, is that the grumble does inevitably take someone to court. The Israelites’ grumbling soon rose to Moses and then to God. How did God hear grumblings? The murmur was louder than they thought.

God got involved, which seemed to be an overreaction, really. Grumblings wither and fade. Once it’s off the chest it’s like mist in the morning, right? But Moses took it to God. He asked, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me” (Ex. 17:5). God’s answer was weighty. “Pass on before the people, taking with you some of the elders of Israel, and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. Behold, I will stand before you there on the rock at Horeb” (Ex. 17:5–6a). God received their grumbling as an accusation against himself. He stood trial.

I think I’m beginning to see the lesson. Though it doesn’t look like it initially, grumbling is accusation. The Israelites weren’t merely venting their frustrations. They were accusing God of not being a provider. In fact, they were saying he was worse than Pharaoh. He must not have thought it through. A million people in the middle of the desert. “Yeah, God. Great idea.”

Their grumbling was a viral event, not quarantined to a small few. It was airborne and highly contagious. If I jumped in the DeLorean and headed back to that ancient and sandy land, I wouldn’t hear the story of God’s great rescue but the story of God’s great scandal: desert life without water. If I knew nothing of their history, I might be prone to think Egypt was a land of Eden and Pharaoh a king of kings.

The people had a point. What good is emancipation if you die a few weeks later with a parched tongue and cracked lips? They looked at their life and could see only the grim circumstances staring back at them. They forgot the plagues in Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, and the manna from heaven. They forgot their Rescuer, Deliverer, and Redeemer. The roar of their grumbling drowned out the song of their Savior. God had done mighty things before, but they disbelieved he could do them again. Rather than the path God was taking them, all they saw were walls. And those walls echoed to and fro throughout the land.

WATER FROM THE ROCK

God heard their grumbling, and he stood on the rock before them. Then he told Moses, “You shall strike the rock, and water shall come out of it, and the people will drink” (Ex. 17:6).

In 1 Corinthians 10:4, Paul looks back at this event and makes the shocking statement that Christ was the Rock. The water the people drank didn’t come from nowhere. It came from the judgment of God in Christ. Moses didn’t strike an inanimate object. He struck the Lord himself. Grumbling always strikes, and, ultimately, it always strikes the Lord.

But the gospel tells us that God takes that strike himself. Instead of standing on the rock and blasting the Israelites away, he stands on the rock and bears the punishment. This was just the beginning of God’s long-suffering. What started as a grumble in the desert rose to a cry in Pilate’s court: “Crucify him!” (Luke 21:23).

Alone on the cross, instead of grumbling, Jesus took our grumblings upon himself as the representative Grumbler. He died under them, struck by the judgment staff of God. When the soldiers came to Jesus to ensure his death, they “pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water” (John 19:34). That water was, as Paul says, the same spiritual drink the Israelites drank in the desert (1 Cor. 10:4). It came from a rock back then but came in Christ once for all on the cross. A drink of living water for all of us grumblers.

That’s the real family tradition—God’s grace for grumblers.

So how’s your quarantine going? Mine’s better than ever before, thanks for asking. I have all I need.

David McLemore is an elder at Refuge Church in Franklin, Tennessee. He also works for a large healthcare corporation where he manages an application development department. He is married to Sarah, and they have three sons. Read more of David’s writing on his blog, Things of the Sort.

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Do Everything Without Complaining

Article by Scott Hubbard

Editor, desiringGod.org

“Do all things without grumbling” (Philippians 2:14). It’s remarkably easy to breeze by this command without really hearing those two intrusive words: all things.

Do all things without grumbling? Yes, all things: Wake up with a sore throat, receive criticism, pay a parking ticket, shovel spring snow, host houseguests, discipline your children, change a flat tire, answer emails, and do everything else without one murmuring word. “This is a hard saying,” we might be tempted to say. “Who can listen to it?” (John 6:60).

Many of us wake up set to “grumble,” and move through our days murmuring at a great variety of objects that get in our way. We may dress it up in nicer words: “venting,” “being honest,” “getting something off my chest,” or even “sharing a prayer request.” But God knows what we’re doing — and if we really think about it, we often do too. Grumbling is the hum of the fallen human heart, and often a hallmark of Christians’ indwelling sin.

And that makes non-grumblers a peculiar people in this world. As Paul goes on to tell us, those who “do all things without grumbling” burn like great suns in a world of darkness (Philippians 2:14–15).

The Voice of Discontentment

Paul’s use of the word grumbling (and his reference to Deuteronomy 32:5 in the next verse) takes us back to the desert between Egypt and Canaan, where we meet that group of experienced grumblers. What do their forty years in the wilderness teach us about grumbling?

They teach us that grumbling is discontentment made audible — the heart’s contempt escaped through the mouth. It is the sound we make when we have “a strong craving” for something we do not have, and we begin to grow restless (Numbers 11:4; Psalm 106:14).

The object of our craving need not be evil; often it isn’t. The Israelites, for example, reached for pleasures quite harmless in themselves: food and water (Exodus 15:24; 16:2–3; 17:3), a safe passage to the Promised Land (Numbers 14:2–4), comfort (Numbers 16:41). But their desires for these good things somehow turned bad: they wanted them sooner than God chose to give them; they wanted them more than God himself.

So too with us. We want a relaxing evening at home, but we get a call from a friend who needs help moving. We want a job that feels meaningful, but we get stuck among spreadsheets. Or, more significantly, we want the future we planned for, but we get one we never wanted.

“Unfair,” says some voice within us. “That’s not right,” says another. Desires become expectations; expectations become rights. And instead of bringing our disappointment to God, and allowing his words to steady us, we let unmet desire fester into discontentment. We grumble.

Murmuring Against Our Good

Grumbling is more than the voice of discontentment, however. It is also the voice of unbelief. We grumble when our faith in God’s good purposes falters. Unwilling to trust that God is crafting this disappointment for our good, we have eyes only for the painful now.

When the Israelites finished burying the last of the wilderness generation, Moses revealed God’s purpose in all their desert trials: “[God] led you through the great and terrifying wilderness . . . that he might humble you and test you, to do you good in the end” (Deuteronomy 8:15–16). What a tragic commentary on those graves in the desert. On every tombstone in that wilderness were carved the words, “We grumbled against our own good.”

God had already told them as much after their first episode of grumbling. He presented them with a choice: They could either “diligently listen to the voice of the Lord your God” (Exodus 15:26), or they could follow the raging mob within themselves. Well, we know the story. They followed the mob.

Our own grumbling, likewise, relies on an interpretation of God, ourselves, and this world that is utterly out of step with reality. (Of course, it feels like reality; the serpent’s voice always does.) We grumble because we have diligently listened to a voice other than the Lord our God’s, and have begun to repeat the words. Instead of crying out to God, “Help me trust you are good!” we mutter and spill and vent — the equivalent of saying, “God, your ways are not good.”

Let Go of Grumbling

Like all temptations common to man, the temptation to grumble always comes with “the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). But how? How can we confront our own tendencies to murmur and, amazingly, begin to “do all things without grumbling” (Philippians 2:14)?

1. Repent of wayward desires.

When you do recognize some grumbling words, stop and ask yourself,

What am I wanting right now more than I want God’s will?
What craving has become more important than God’s commandments?
What desire has grown sweeter than knowing Christ Jesus my Lord?

Grumbling does not spout forth from us because of a problem out there, but because of a problem in here. No outward circumstance compels us to grumble. The same apostle who said, “Do all things without grumbling,” was wearing chains for the gospel as he wrote. Yet Philippians is drenched in gratitude, not grumbling (Philippians 1:3; 4:14). More than that, at the center of Paul’s letter is a Savior who humbled himself to the point of death, even death on a cross, without one murmur (Philippians 2:5–8).

God has given us everything we need to let go of grumbling — even in prison, even on the road to our own execution. In addition to recognizing our grumbling, then, we need to repent of those wayward desires that would keep us from saying with Paul, “It is my eager expectation and hope that . . . Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death,” whether by comfort or disappointment, whether by hope fulfilled or hope deferred (Philippians 1:20).

2. Remember God’s word of life.

Because our grumbling relies on a false interpretation of reality, we need God to reinterpret our circumstances for us. Therefore, as Paul tells us, we put away grumbling by “holding fast to the word of life” (Philippians 2:16).

Hold fast implies effort and attention. Grumbling will rarely flee if we merely wave around vague thoughts of God’s goodness. We need to take specific words from God and, with ruthless intensity, hold on to them tighter than we hold on to our words of discontentment.

What words from God should we hold fast to in these moments? Any that confront our inner clamor of voices with the truth of God’s abundant goodness (Psalm 31:19), our benefits in Christ (Psalm 103:1–5), the brightness of our future (1 Peter 1:3–9), God’s sovereignty over trials (James 1:2–4), and the pleasures of obedience (Psalm 19:10–11), for example.

Or, to stick near the context of Paul’s command, consider holding on to this gem of a promise: “My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). Glorious riches for every need are ours in Christ. Hold fast to that word.

3. Respond to God in faith.

Finally, take these words and turn them back to the God who is our very present help (Psalm 46:1). In other words, replace grumbling with its righteous opposite: prayer. Every decision to grumble is a decision not to pray, not to pour out our hearts before God, not to draw near to his powerful throne of grace. Likewise, every decision to pray is a decision not to grumble.

Of course, even in prayer the fight continues. Our minds will often wander back to whatever person or circumstance has agitated us. But keep bringing your mind back around. Keep wrangling your focus back to the God who made you, knows you, loves you, bought you, and will bring your holiness to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6).

Grumbling cannot abide in the presence of this Jesus. Over time, it must make way for gratitude. It must bow the knee to faith. It must give way to praise.

Scott Hubbard is a graduate of Bethlehem College & Seminary and an editor for desiringGod.org. He and his wife, Bethany, live in Minneapolis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/do-everything-without-grumbling

A Different Kind of Profanity

Article by David Prince

What would you do if one of your children walked in your house and spoke a string of four-letter words? What would you do if one of your children walked in your house grumbling? I fear that most of us would drop everything and confront their intolerable use of four-letter words (and rightly so) but would say nothing about the grumbling or maybe say something like, "I am sorry you are having a bad day." You may say, "Yes, but the four-letter words are profanities." So is grumbling.

We tend to reason that grumbling is not a big deal because it is not actually doing anything it is simply talk. In contemporary American culture grumbling is often ingrained as a way of life and many treat it as harmless personal therapy. We tend to rename it as something like venting in order to remove the stigma. Grumbling is so habitual that we often miss the irony of our words when we stand in front of closets full of clothes and murmur that we do not have anything to wear. Or when we stand before refrigerators packed with food and say we don't have anything to eat.

In the Bible, grumbling is described as corrosive. A grumbling spirit never stays self-contained but begins to infect all aspects of life and thought with an entitlement worldview. Parents who model grumbling or treat it as acceptable when their children grumble are placing their kids in character quicksand. Grumbling and thankfulness cannot coexist. One always vanquishes the other. A grumbler becomes immune to gratitude because no matter what happens circumstances will always bump up against our personal desires.

In Exodus, the Israelites leave Egypt walking between sovereignly walled up water; then, within one month of that event the awe-inspired gratitude is erased. Why? They are thirsty (Ex 15:22-17:7). The irony that they saw the power of a God who can control the Red Sea and now a bit of thirst has them complaining should not be lost on us. Moses had courageously been used by God to confront Pharoah and lead the nation out of bondage in Egypt but now they get a bit hungry and ask him, "Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger" (Ex 16:3).

God had provided them water and he now provides them bread and quail. They are instructed to gather only as much bread as they need for each day, but not everyone obeys (Ex 16:20). When they get thirsty again and say, "Why did you bring us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?" (Ex 17:3). You get the point. Grumbling vanquishes awe-inspired gratitude. Moses rightly asserts, "Your grumbling is not against us but against the LORD" (Ex 16:8). The same is still true. Parents who grumble and permit their children to grumble are catechizing them in discontent with the Lord.

In the New Testament, John 6:25-59, Jesus asserts himself as the "bread of life" after his miraculous feeding of the five thousand (John 6:1-15). Jesus, like Moses, provides bread and meat for the people. Jesus tells them that they are to believe in him (John 6:29). Ironically, the people who just saw an amazing sign say they require a sign to believe. Jesus said, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst (John 6:35). How do they respond? "So the Jews grumbled about him" (John 6:41, see also, 43, 61). The Greek word for "grumble" is "gonguzō," which actually sounds like murmuring.

Paul tells the church at Corinth not to grumble as Israel did in the wilderness (1 Cor. 10:5-11). He says, "these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come" (1 Cor 10:11). James admonishes his readers not to "grumble" against each other' (James 5:9). Likewise, Peter tells his readers to "show hospitality to one another without grumbling" (1 Pet 4:9). In Philippians, Paul exhorts the church to have the mind of Christ and reflect his self-sacrificial example on display in his incarnation and crucifixion (Phil 2:5-11). Then, one of the first applications of how to do so is, "Do all things without grumbling or disputing" (Phil 2:14).

There seems to be a vast discrepancy between the way most of us think about grumbling and how the Bible speaks of it. We are wrong, the Bible is right. Parents often fixate on grades, success, and achievement in the lives of their children. However important these things are, they are far less significant than whether or not our children become grumblers with an entitlement worldview. To profane is to treat that which is holy as common. In Christ, our very lives are holy and our words are sacred. That reality is why grumbling in the Bible is profanity.

Grumbling is doing something, something profane and corrosive. Grumbling vanquishes thankfulness and makes us insensibly immune to awe. In other words, when we grumble, we are using our words to preach hellish sermons, not holy ones--sermons for which Satan would gladly say, "Amen." May we see grumbling as profanity against God, and correct it in our lives and in the lives of our children.

About the Author: David E. Prince is pastor of preaching and vision at Ashland Avenue Baptist Church in Lexington, Kentucky and assistant professor of Christian preaching at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is the author of In the Arena and Church: The Promise of Sports for Christian Discipleship and Church with Jesus as the Hero. He blogs at Prince on Preaching and frequently writes for The Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, For the Church, and Preaching Today.

Posted at: http://www.reformation21.org/blog/2018/12/a-different-kind-of-profanity.php