Introduction

We all need divine help, even those who appear strongest and most self-sufficient among us. Revd. Mark Fletcher explores Psalm 121’s timeless wisdom about finding help in life’s perilous journey, using the powerful metaphor of mountains to remind us that true strength comes not from ourselves but from the God who never slumbers. This sermon reveals why self-reliance ultimately fails and how recognizing our vulnerability leads us to the One who guides us safely home.

It is, I think, an amazing privilege to live in view of the mountains day by day. Never take that for granted and never fail to allow the mountains to speak, to hear the song that they sing. John Ruskin once said, “The mountains are the great cathedrals of the natural world,” and I think he’s right.

They are an amazing experience of beauty and of wonder. On a clear day, they will stop you in your tracks. Words fail us. There is something sublime about them. It is like a glimpse of eternity. I’ll never forget the first time that we saw Mont Blanc many years ago on our first visit to Chamonix, and it was a cloudy day and we were busy going about our business, and then the clouds parted and there was this vast, looming, dazzling, radiant, massive mountain that transported us out of the everyday. It was something transcendent and frankly intimidating. The mountains speak to our souls. And what is it that they speak of? Well, they speak of course of the grandeur of God. They say, “You think this is impressive? Imagine the one who made them. You think this is beautiful? Imagine how beautiful is the one who crafted them.”

I think they also rather put us in our place. Their sheer size reminds us of how small we actually are, and they brilliantly challenge our tendency to self-centeredness. You cannot really think that the world revolves around you when confronted by something so immense. They stir awe in us in the full sense of that word.

There is something overwhelming about them. They remind us how vulnerable and how transient our lives are. And all of these things I think are good for us. I think there’s something really healthy about it to be in the midst of the beauty of creation, to remember our right place in the world. This is humility—not to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to.

Instead, we lift our eyes to the mountains and we remember our right place in creation. I think we should do that every day. Don’t fail to listen to what the mountains have to say to you. But also don’t make the mistake, as so many do, of only seeing the created things and not the one who created them. Of only seeing that which was made and not recognizing of whom they speak.

Don’t be like a traveler in a new city who finds themselves at the threshold of a great cathedral who never enters in to discover the God of which it speaks. The mountains are awesome and slightly intimidating when you get up close to them. We have a rather romantic view of them. And then when you’re actually confronted by them, they rather set the heart racing.

And it’s interesting that that is the response of the psalmist, of the writer of our psalm who says, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from?” Can you hear what they’re actually doing is sort of confronted by the grandeur saying “Help!” And the response of the psalmist is to recognize their own limitations, their own vulnerability.

You know, in the ancient world, the mountains were really looked on as dangerous places—to be, if possible, avoided, and to travel amongst them was to be in inhospitable territory. And the truth is that despite all of our technology, all of our satellite navigation and Gore-Tex, if you get caught in the mountains when the storm clouds gather or the snow begins to fall, or darkness starts to descend, things get very serious very quickly, don’t they?

We realize how vulnerable we actually are, and I think it’s true also in our lives that to live in this world is to live in a perilous place. And just as a competent mountaineer has a deep respect for the mountains, a wise person has a deep awareness of the pitfalls of life. They watch their step. They remain vigilant, and they know where to find help.

The Psalmist writes verse two, “Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” You see, the mountains aren’t the only thing that speak, and the writer looks to the heavens and to the stars of the sky and the vastness and wonder and intricacy of creation, and says, “The one who made all of this—they are the one that I need to find my help with.” God is my help.

Some of the most serious situations that I find that people get themselves into is when they’ve got used to being self-sufficient, when they believe that they are in control, and then the storm hits and they discover that they are not really in control. And that they believe that they can rely on themselves until it gets very, very serious. And we need to know at times like that where we go, where we find strength, who will guide me through. If I rely only on my own ability or my own intellect, or my own stamina, or my own resources, it will only get me so far.

And the time will come when I find myself in a precarious place. I think back to some of my most serious experiences in the mountains, and it’s almost always where I have just pushed myself a bit too far. Pushing on when I wasn’t sure where I was going, following a path that turned out not to be a path, finding myself off route and in serious terrain and not having the wisdom or the humility to turn around.

If you only rely on yourself, you will find how perilous life can be. The psalmist says, put your trust in the one who has gone ahead of you. In the guide who can navigate you through life. Verse three, “He will not let your foot slip. He who watches over you will not slumber or sleep.” Jesus says, “Follow me and I will lead you on the right paths.”

Walk in his ways. Listen carefully to his teaching and you will have a sure footing. And if you’ve been a Christian for some time, beware of complacency, which is one of the most dangerous things on the journey. Allow the wonder and beauty of creation, and its seriousness too, to remind you not just of the glory of God, but the need for a trustworthy guide through this perilous life.

Because of course the journey through the mountains can be very hard. We tend to just remember the beautiful bits, the early morning beginning, the mountaintop experience. But what happens in between those two experiences is an awful lot of hard work and your heart racing and you thinking, “My goodness, this is harder than I thought.”

And the pack feels very heavy and your feet ache along the way. In the midst of the journey, when you are feeling tired or hungry and things are starting to hurt, this psalm is there to keep you going. In fact, most of the Psalm actually is encouragement that says, “Don’t give up. Don’t be afraid. The Lord is watching over you.”

He is your guide and your shelter. Verse seven: “The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life.” Because all of us at times in our lives do walk through the wilderness, through dangerous and precarious paths. We walk through the darkness and the storm, but the psalmist says that God is there and he is your shelter and your strength.

Sir Edmund Hillary famously once said, “It is not the mountain that we conquer. It is ourselves,” and this is a psalm to remind us, to help us to conquer our fears and our weariness. It says, if God is powerful enough to create all of this, then he can take care of you. Put your trust in him. Find in him the shelter from the storm, the shade from the blazing sun. When the difficulties and the dangers are greatest, reach out and find that He is there for you.

And he will ultimately bring you home. Verse 8, “The Lord will watch over your coming and your going both now and forevermore.” There is nothing more joyful than a great homecoming after a great adventure. The light in the distance that shows your journey is almost done.

And if you will allow him, Jesus is the one who can guide you all the days of your life and ultimately bring you home rejoicing. And the day will come when this long, weary road will come to an end and in Christ, we will find safe lodging and a joyful welcome home. Psalm 121 is one of the greats. Isn’t it wonderful?

Write it down, memorize it. Allow it to write itself upon your heart. It is a Psalm of faith, a psalm for the traveler far from home. Look to the mountains. Let them speak to us. Let them sing of the glory of the one who made them. But even more than that, let them remind you of the one who is our guide and our helper, our shelter from the storm who navigates us through the fears and the dangers all the days of our life.

And will one day bring us home. Amen.