King of Guilt :: Psalm 80
Psalm 80
Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved!
Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock. You are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth.
Restore us, O Lord God of hosts! Let your face shine, that we may be saved.
2.
It’s a prayer. It’s a prayer of God’s people. They’ve fallen out of favor. They’ve messed up, they screwed up, and they know it. They got caught up in worldliness and false gods. They became careless with God’s Word. They shunned God’s sacraments, his gifts of forgiveness. Their enemies have beaten them.
Psalm 80 is the prayer of refugees, God’s people of the Northern Kingdom who fled to Jerusalem in the south when the Assyrian army took over in the north.
Their homes? Gone.
Their places of worship? Gone.
Their government? Gone.
Everything they stored up for themselves. Gone.
All the things they’d put their trust in ... every last false thing that had distracted them from their heavenly king. Gone.
And so they ran. And they did the only thing you can do when all the structure, all the stability, all the things you rely on for normalcy are blown away like prairie dust in a windstorm. They ran home. To Jerusalem. To the temple. And mourning underneath their sorrow’s load, they wrote this psalm.
Restore us, O God of hosts. Let your face shine, that we may be saved.
It’s a prayer. It’s a plea. Come, Lord! Come!
Hear our prayer. Hear our plea. And do something about it, we beg you.
We are lost. We feel hopeless. We can’t do anything about the mess we are in.
But you can. We need you to save us. Please come, restore us.
Is this your prayer too?
It’s an appeal to the King, and not merely some earthly king sitting on a throne of gold, but heaven’s king, the King of Glory, the King of the universe who is in their midst.
Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel. Hear us, they cry. Listen to our plea for mercy.
We don’t deserve what we plead for. We took you for granted. We despised your good gifts, your good word, your good sacraments. We didn’t listen to you. Nevertheless, hear us ... because of who you are. Hear us, because you are that kind of King. Hear us, because you are our merciful King. You are the sparing King. You are the forgiving King.
Hear our cry.
Don’t forget, Lord, you’re the only reason we’re a people. You made us, brought us out of bondage in Egypt. Like a choice vine, you planted us in this land. We are yours.
We know we have despised your good gifts and your wise ways. We know we have treated them shamefully and lightly. We know we have ignored them and allowed ourselves to be distracted from them. We wanted all the things we thought were more important than your word and sacraments. We coveted what other people have ,,, what we think are better hymns ... better prayers ... better.
Lord, save us. Lord, restore us.
1.
It’s a prayer. It’s a plea. God’s people called on their King to act. To save them.
And so he came. Not that they were prepared for him to come.
The king came to his vineyard. He came to his own. But his own did not receive him (Jn 1:11). They prayed: Restore us. They shouted hosanna to him ... Save us.
And so he did. In the way they didn’t expect at all.
To answer their prayer, their plea. Our Lord Jesus came to them, righteous and having salvation. In return they mocked him, spit upon him, slandered him. They beat him. Then they threw him out of the city. He took their crown of guilt and thorns and ascended his throne. It wasn’t atop the cherubim, though. He took their throne they lifted high ... for all the world to see. He who knew no sin became sin was nailed to the cross, where he suffered and died. He faced the full wrath of God’s fury to answer your plea. And he dove into the depths of our despair ... into the depths of your death ... all to give you life.
Now we too can pray. And plead. Let your face shine, that we may be saved.
Through his resurrection we now have the hope of eternal life, too. Our king of righteousness has come to take away your guilt, and to give you his righteousness.
He says, Beloved, I am not afraid of your guilt. I am now the King of your guilt. I have been crowned with your guilt. Enthroned upon the wood you deserve. Your guilt is mine. And my innocence is now yours. What you deserve I take. What I deserve I give to you. You cried out, restore us. And so here I am, restoring you.
And he has, through the cross. He has through the water of your baptism. He does through the bread and wine that are body and blood.
Beloved I come to restore you. Not to burden you with these gifts but to relieve you with them. I am you king. Your guilt is mine and my peace is yours.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, I am unworthy to stand in the pulpit of this king. I am not worthy to speak in his place. And you are unworthy to sit in the court of our king. But that is the kind of king we have. He is our righteousness, our innocence, our blessedness, and our eternal holiness.
This whole night, he has been preparing you for his Advent. So give him your guilt and receive his grace. He has heard your prayer, your plea. That is the kind of king we have.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.