A Goodly Heritage - The Path Of Life Series

Introduction: The Soul's Deepest Ache

Brothers and sisters, if you look at the heart of humanity, you will find a deep and constant ache. It is the ache for security, for a joy that lasts, for a purpose that death cannot erase. Our modern world offers a thousand prescriptions for this ache. It tells us, "Find your security in a successful career! Climb the ladder!" But the ladder has no top, and the anxiety of falling is constant. It says, "Find your joy in possessions and experiences! Buy the new gadget, take the perfect vacation!" But the thrill fades, and the emptiness returns. It whispers, "Find your purpose in your own identity, in being true to yourself!" But the self is a fragile foundation, shifting and changing with the tides of emotion and circumstance.

The author of this psalm, King David, knew all about what the world had to offer. He was a man of power, a man of wealth, a celebrated hero. He had the palace, the army, and the fame. He had tasted everything the world says should satisfy that deep ache. And yet, in this psalm—what Jewish tradition calls a Michtam, a "golden" psalm—David reveals his secret. He points us away from all the fleeting treasures of earth to the one, true, inexhaustible Treasure of heaven. He shows us a life built not on shifting sand, but on the solid rock of God Himself. This psalm is a declaration of radical trust, a song of supernatural contentment, and a stunning prophecy of the ultimate hope that is ours in Christ. Let's walk this path of life together, and let its golden truths enrich our souls.

I. The Foundation: A Plea of Radical Trust (v. 1-4)

The psalm begins where all true spiritual life must begin: not with a statement of our strength, but with a confession of our need.

Verse 1: "Preserve me, O God: for in thee do I put my trust."

Imagine David as he writes this. He's a king, but his life is filled with peril—from foreign armies, from political rivals, even from within his own family. He knows his crown and his guards cannot truly "preserve" him. So he makes a conscious, deliberate choice. He doesn't just have trust; he puts his trust in God. It's an active verb. Trust is like leaning your full weight against a strong wall. You don't lean a little bit and keep one foot ready to catch yourself. You transfer your entire weight. David is saying, "God, my life, my future, my very breath—I am leaning it all on You." He then rehearses this truth to his own heart.

Verse 2: "O my soul, thou hast said unto the LORD, Thou art my Lord: my goodness extendeth not to thee;"

Do you ever need to preach to yourself? David does. He reminds his own soul of its allegiance: "Thou art my Lord." Not my advisor, not my assistant, but my Sovereign Master. And then comes this line of profound theological beauty: "my goodness extendeth not to thee." This is David's declaration of freedom from performance-based religion! He is saying, "God, my good deeds, my prayers, my worship—none of it makes You better or more complete. You don't need my goodness to be God." What incredible freedom there is in this! God's love for us is not a wage He pays for our service. He loves us because He is love. We serve Him not to earn His favor, but because we have already received it.

So if our goodness isn't for God's benefit, what is it for?

Verse 3: "But to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight."

Our faith finds its hands and feet in the community of believers. The vertical love we have for God is expressed in the horizontal love we have for His people. David says his "delight" is in the saints. Is that true for us? It's easy to be frustrated with the church. We see its flaws, its imperfections, its difficult people. But scripture challenges us to see the church as God sees it: a collection of His treasured children, the "excellent," in whom we are to find joy.

Having chosen his company, David looks at the alternative with stark clarity.

Verse 4: "Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another god: their drink offerings of blood will I not offer, nor take up their names into my lips."

Anyone who chases after a false god—and our world is full of them—is signing up for a life of multiplied sorrows. Chase the god of money, and the sorrow of greed and anxiety will follow. Chase the god of popularity, and the sorrow of loneliness and envy will be your shadow. Chase the god of political power, and the sorrow of bitterness and division will multiply. David makes a radical commitment. He will not engage in their practices or even glorify their names. He is drawing a line in the sand. His worship will be exclusive.