The Savior's Resumé (Psalm 15)

It’s been said that the problem with people in the Bible Belt is that they don’t have enough Bible under their belt. That is to say, even though the Southern region of the United States is replete with churches on virtually every street corner, there still seems to be a lack of biblical knowledge. And I agree, in general, with that sentiment. After all, is there really such a thing as having “enough” Bible under your belt? Yet, I fear that the greater problem in these areas of the world that are saturated with Scripture is not a lack of accurate Bible knowledge, but a lack of accurate Bible understanding. Many in the Bible Belt have grown up hearing the memorable accounts of Noah’s ark, Jonah’s whale, and Solomon’s temple. They’ve memorized large swathes of Scripture in their AWANA programs. Virtually everyone in their neighborhood and community attends church, and indeed, their church building has been like a second home to them.

Unfortunately, however, amidst this culturalized form of Christianity lies the great danger of moralism: viewing and using the Bible like a guide to make good people better, to make nice people nicer. When everyone in a community is charming and polite, it’s easy to confuse Southern hospitality with biblical conversion—and then wrongly assume that you’re right with God because of the former. Steve Lawson recognizes this about modern preaching when he says, “Unfortunately, much of contemporary preaching seems out of balance, having become too much like what someone described as ‘a mild-mannered man standing before mild-mannered people urging them to be more mild-mannered.’”[1]

This is perhaps no more evident than in the way that many view Psalm 15. As a wisdom psalm, it asks what is essentially the most important question anyone could ever ask. It then answers its own question with profound clarity. Yet, the implications of this passage can easily be missed by those who overestimate their own spiritual condition.

The Predicament Humanity Faces (Psalm 15:1)

A Psalm of David

O Lord, who may abide in your tent?
Who may dwell on Your holy hill?

Written by David, this psalm begins with his incredibly soul-searching question. By mentioning God’s “holy hill” (Mount Zion), David was contemplating the holiness of God either in preparation for, or reflection upon, the establishment of corporate worship in Jerusalem. He wondered about the merits needed to be with God in such a majestically holy dwelling place. As king of Israel, he understood that he had been appointed for his position in order to unite his people to be in fellowship with their God (cf. 2 Sam. 5:12), and he well knew the grave consequences of being spiritually unworthy of being near the Lord.

After all, decades beforehand, the Philistines (who had captured the Ark of the Covenant) eventually returned it to the land of Israel, and a number of Israelite men gazed upon the Ark in direct violation of God’s commands (cf. Num. 4:19-20). Letting their curiosity get the better of them, they treated this most holy furnishing as a common object of interest. In that moment, over 50,000 of them were supernaturally slaughtered (cf. 1 Sam. 6:19). The response of those who survived? “Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God?” (1 Sam. 6:20). And thus the Ark was left in the home of a man named Abinadab. Years later, then, in preparing to move the Ark from Abinadab’s home to its final place in Jerusalem, David commissioned two brothers Uzzah and Ahio, along with a number of other men, with the task of transporting it to the city (cf. 2 Sam. 6:3). The men loaded it up on a cart and began the journey, but while in transit, the oxen pulling the cart nearly toppled it over. Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark to keep it from hitting the ground—and that was a grave mistake. The Lord struck him dead in an instant.

Dr. R.C. Sproul explained the situation as follows:

In the first place, we wonder why in the world the Ark was being transported in an oxcart. It was to be transported on foot. There were loops at the edge of the throne, through which stays were inserted to make sure that no human hand touched the throne. But they were in a hurry, and they put it in the oxcart. And they’re going down, and Uzzah did the unthinkable—he touched the throne of God.

But we say: “So wait a minute, why did he do it? His motive was pure. He was trying to preserve the throne of God from being desecrated by the mud.” But the presumptuous sin of Uzzah was this: he assumed that his hands were less polluted than the dirt.[2]

Knowing about these disastrous encounters with God’s holiness, David left the Ark in the home of a man named Obed-edom for three months before finally resuming its journey to Jerusalem. But one thing is for sure: he never forgot those events. On the contrary, David—full of fear—wisely asked, “How can the ark of the Lord come to me?” (2 Sam. 6:9).

And that is precisely the same principle underlying his question in this psalm.

If God is holy (which He is), and if man is sinful (which he is), how can there be ongoing fellowship between the two? The Hebrew word for “dwell” used in this psalm refers to “living, settling down, staying, or being established in a place,” making the question that much more arresting: If even a glance or a touch of the Ark is enough to kill a man, how could anyone dare to be a permanent guest in God’s royal house? More generally speaking, who is fit to be in peaceful relationship with his Creator?

This is the great predicament that humanity has faced ever since being exiled from the Garden of Eden.

The Precepts God Requires (Psalm 15:2-5b)

He who walks with integrity, and works righteousness,
And speaks truth in his heart.
He does not slander with his tongue,
Nor does evil to his neighbor,
Nor takes up a reproach against his friend;
In whose eyes a reprobate is despised,
But who honors those who fear the Lord;
He swears to his own hurt and does not change;
He does not put out his money at interest,
Nor does he take a bribe against the innocent.

Having asked the question, David goes on to outline the spiritual characteristics of those who would be qualified to enjoy into fellowship with God. Over the course of six couplets, he describes the righteous requirements, as represented in thought, word, and deed, of anyone who would be counted worthy to stand in the presence of a holy God.[3]

The first principle (v. 15:2a-b) refers to walking with integrity and working righteousness, which emphasizes comprehensively holy conduct. To “walk” with integrity, speaks of a person whose ways are entirely blameless and morally well-rounded, with every part of his life reflecting godliness.[4] To “work righteousness” speaks of a life marked by obedience to the Word of God—not merely giving lip service to it, but actually “working” it by putting it into practice (cf. Jas. 1:22). The totality of God-honoring living is summarized by these two aspects.

The second principle (v. 15:2c-3a) refers to speech, first focusing on speaking truth “in” (or better understood as “from”) the heart—speech that comes from what you genuinely believe, without hypocrisy or doublespeak. It then describes the one who refrains from using his tongue to destroy the reputation of others—being a slanderer or “tale-bearer.” It’s been well said that flattery is saying to a man’s face what you would never say behind his back, and gossip is saying behind a man’s back what you would never say to his face. Both of these sins are perfectly encapsulated in this couplet.

The third principle (v. 15:3b-c) refers to relationships with others. Jesus said that the second greatest commandment is “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31, et al.). Thus, “doing evil” to neighbors would be hindering or harming them in any way you would never wish upon yourself. The second component of this couplet speaks of not taking up a reproach against a friend, referring to those would join in unfairly discrediting a person in the eyes of others—and although it uses the word “friend,” it is actually the same Hebrew word as “neighbor” in the preceding phrase. Of course, it must be said that if you have to ask, “Who is my neighbor?” you have pharasaically missed the point (cf. Luke 10:25-37).

The fourth principle (v. 15:4a-b) refers to spiritual priorities as indicated by what a person values or esteems in others. Rather than envying the life of a “reprobate” (a worthless, polluted, dirty, or morally depraved man), or desiring fellowship with God-haters, this qualification describes someone who holds their lifestyle in contempt—seeing no value in the debauched prosperity of the Hollywood celebrity, popular entertainer, or famed athlete. And it must be noted that this characteristic is not about hatred for the person, which would stand in contradiction with Christ’s command to love our enemies (cf. Matt. 5:44). Rather, it’s about refusing to praise them for their earthly success, as indicated by the second half of the couplet: instead of esteeming God-haters, this principle describes honoring God-fearers.

The fifth principle (v. 15:4c-d) refers to consistency of character, particularly as it relates to honoring promises. The one who is worthy of access to God “swears to his own hurt,” meaning he keeps his promises even when the circumstances are no longer favorable. This person maintains a commitment when tempted to abandon it, and sticks to his beliefs even when tempted to conceal them. This would apply to the dad who vows to spend time with his daughter, but reverses course when a business opportunity arises, or the churchmember who agrees to help with a church ministry event, but cancels at the last minute in favor of a more appealing recreational activity. But it would also apply to those who hold to biblical convictions in one moment, only to abandon them when such convictions go against society’s values. Such a person is like Peter, who denied Christ when danger was imminent (cf. Luke 22:54-62). The kind of person who is worthy of being in fellowship with his immutable Creator is the one who “does not change.”

The sixth and final principle (v. 15:5a-b) refers to finances. Mosaic Law strictly prohibited charging fellow Israelites interest on loans (cf. Exod. 22:25, Lev. 25:36). For a person to be in a financial difficulty that would require a loan meant that the last thing he needed would be additional debt. Thus, this principle would apply to any attempt at taking advantage of an individual’s dire circumstances. The final line in this series of qualifications, speaking of taking bribes against the innocent, would exclude those in judicial authority who allow money to influence what should otherwise be an unbiased ruling—particularly in condemning a person who has done no wrong. Of course, this qualification could encompass anything from a judge in a court of law to a conflict of interest in business matters. A truly godly man has no price (cf. Matt. 4:8-10).

The Peace Jesus Provides (Psalm 15:5c)

He who does these things will never be shaken.

So, how does your life measure up to the aforementioned precepts? Make no mistake about it: this is not a multiple choice exam, in which you only need to select one option among many. Nor is this like horseshoes or hand grenades, in which close enough is good enough. The reality is that if you have failed to personally, perfectly, and perpetually meet these standards, your life is not worthy to be on God’s holy hill—you are not qualified to stand in the presence of a holy God. Even if you have lived a “mostly righteous” life, with perhaps only a momentary moral lapse—reaching out your hand to touch the Ark for a split second like Uzzah—you can rest assured that heaven is above your pay grade. The present-tense participles in this passage grammatically preclude a “mostly good” life. It’s all or nothing, now and forever.

Truth be told, this psalm is not primarily a description of how righteous we are, nor of how righteous we can be, but is instead a standard of how righteous we must be if we are to be in fellowship with God. Those who keep these precepts will “never be shaken,” meaning they will have a perfect standing before a perfect God; they will enjoy unbroken enjoyment of the full blessings of God’s presence.

With that in mind, anyone with an ounce of honesty will admit that he or she has not met this standard, meaning such a person has not achieved the right to enjoy heaven in the presence of God. Don’t be deceived: if you lean on your own merits, you will be shaken. It will not go well for you when you stand before the Lord on that day (cf. Heb. 9:27).

Consider the following comments from missionary Paul Washer:

The Psalms of David confront us with man’s greatest dilemma: “Who may ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted up his soul to an idol, nor sworn deceitfully.” Any man who entertains even the remotest possibility that there is a personal and moral God must tremble at David’s question. Unless he is an imbecile or his conscience has been seared beyond use, he must recognize that he does not possess the necessary qualifications to stand approved before the Judge of all the earth.[5]

Yet, there is one man—the Lord Jesus Christ—who has always done what is pleasing to God (cf. John 8:29). While on earth, He was tempted in every kind of way that we are, and yet never sinned (cf. Heb. 4:15). In fact, His daily sustenance was based on obeying the Father (cf. John 4:34). Therefore, this psalm is actually a description of His resumé, not yours. Your resumé is found in the psalm that precedes this one: Psalm 14. But the good news of the Gospel is that Jesus was punished on the cross as if He lived the Psalm 14 life, so that all who believe in Him can be treated as if they’ve lived the Psalm 15 life. It is the great exchange, the great substitution, the glorious doctrine of imputation—getting credit for the perfect righteousness of Christ through faith alone in Him, as He took the blame for the sinful life of His people when He died on the cross (cf. 2 Cor. 5:21, Rom. 4:3). True worshipers approaching the tabernacle in David’s day would have also needed to realize that they only had fellowship with God on the basis of imputed righteousness.

Thus, don’t think for a moment that this psalm is a means to attain (nor maintain) fellowship with God. Don’t fall for the trap of moralism. It is instead the perfect standard of righteousness earned by the Lord Jesus Christ through His active obedience, credited to all who believe. This cannot be overstated enough. Do not mistakenly view this psalm as your route to peace with God. Don’t confuse the metric with the means, or the standard with the solution. “Trying harder” to meet Psalm 15’s qualifications is not how you should respond to the first verse; looking to Jesus in humble faith is how you should respond.

Expositor Alistair Begg says just as much (in his winsomely wonderful Scottish accent):

You see, this is very, very important, because it would be possible for somebody to get the wrong end of the stick and think that Psalm 15 represented four steps in a ladder, up which you went to acceptance with God. So you get your walk right, then you get your talk right, then you get your vote right, then you get your deal right. And when you get them all right, boop!—out you come at the top, and you’re in the group. And that is the way the Bible is so often taught. The people come on a Sunday and the person says, “Now why don’t you just pull up your socks and be a good guy? Why don’t you go out and be one of those thousand points of light? Why don’t you go out and be a nice person?” The person says, “That’s exactly right! My wife said that to me this morning! I’m going to try to go out and be a nice person this week, because that’s what I should be. I’ll try and be a faithful person.” You go out the door and you find out how nice you are within fifty-five seconds. And suddenly you're face-to-face with the fact that if all the fellow at the front has got to say is, “Pull up your socks for Jesus’ sake,” you can't do it. Now what are you going to do?[6]

Should Christians pursue Psalm 15’s list of godly attributes? Most definitely. But not as a means of standing blameless before God—those who are trusting in Christ have permanent peace with God through Him (Rom. 5:8). Instead, our pursuit of righteousness should be a way of thanking our Lord for His perfect righteousness, credited to us by grace alone, through faith alone (cf. Rom. 12:1, Col. 3:16-17). Because of Him, we will never be shaken. Though the entire world will one day be rattled in judgment (cf. Hag. 2:6-7), those trusting in Him won’t feel even the slightest of tremors. Hallelujah!


References:

[1] Steven J. Lawson, Famine in the Land: A Passionate Call for Expository Preaching (Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers, 2003), 64.

[2] https://www.ligonier.org/learn/series/holiness-of-god/holiness-and-justice

[3] Steven J. Lawson, Holman Old Testament Commentary: Psalms 1-75 (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2003), 80.

[4] Ibid., 80.

[5] Paul Washer, The Gospel's Power & Message (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2012), 13-14.

[6] https://www.truthforlife.org/resources/sermon/take-the-test-pt-1