Psalm 84: Lovely

Psalm 84 begins with a declaration that the rest of the psalm flows from, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts!” It is the shout or song of a pilgrim, someone trying to get to Jerusalem, to the temple, the house of God. There is a mixture of praise and desperation, longing and rejoicing in the heart of the writer. He calls out to God because He knows that God is with him, but at the same time, he longs to be where he knows God is. The house of God was more than a physical building, it was more than what we would call the temple, a synagogue or even a church building, it was the place of comfort and confidence, it was the place they ran to, but also the place they came out from. It was more than lovely, it was the place they loved, but maybe more than anything else, it was the place where they knew they would be loved.

The Hebrew word that is translated as “lovely” in verse 1, “How lovely is your dwelling place”, is “yediyd”. More than “lovely” it means “beloved”. I have been to some lovely places in my life. I have visited some cities that were beautiful, some homes that were nothing short of spectacular, I have stood in the mountains and looked out over the ocean and had my breath taken, but there have been very few places in my life that I could call beloved. For something to be called beloved, it means that they are dearly loved. My wife and my children are beloved, my family and my friends are beloved, the people God has joined my heart to in my community and across continents are beloved. In fact, the only reason I love certain places is because of the people that dwell there.

I often say that my second favorite place in the world is General Santos, Philippines, and I explain, that the only reason that it is second is that my family is not there. Traveling is such an interesting thing for me. I get to travel, but I am not one that particularly likes traveling. I do not find great pleasure in seeing sites or being able to explore other cultures, but I do love people. Over the last few years, I have tried to travel to the Philippines twice each year. I have made friends and ministry partners there that I dearly love, people that are like family to me, churches that I love as if they were my own, pastors and missionaries that I respect and admire greatly. When I start planning a trip I cannot wait to get there, my heart gets excited for the people I will see, the friends I will visit, the work that we will do together, it is not the place I look forward to, it is the people in the place. The really interesting part is that by the end of my two weeks in General Santos, I cannot wait to go home. I do not miss the food or my bed, I miss my people, those whom I call beloved.

The psalmist was not simply excited to go to God’s house, but to get to the house where God was. This song is about love for God that drives to pilgrimage to God’s house, to God’s presence. This may sound silly or simple, but love desires presence. We actively seek out the presence of those we love. Jesus’ love for His apostles was cemented in one of His final promises to them, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Paul wrote that God demonstrates or shows His love for us in “that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” I John 3:16 says “By this we know love, that he (Jesus) laid down his life for us”. Then in I John 4:19 he said boldly, “We love because he first loved us.” God’s actions reveal His love, He sent His Son, Jesus willingly died, the Father raised Him to life and then together they sent the Holy Spirit, to dwell not just with us, but in us, forever. Do you see where love leads? It was not just the sending, the dying or the resurrecting, it was the indwelling, the immovable, unwavering presence. Love does not just give, it desires presence.

That is the theme of Psalm 84, getting to God, not because God is absent, but because the author wants more. Is not that the paradox of God’s presence? In His presence we are both filled and emptied, satisfied and made hungry, satiated and thirsty. The psalmist knows that God is always with him, but he also wants to always be with God. That is the purpose of the song, not to get to God’s presence, but to give his presence to God. He is not crying out for God; He is crying out to God. Read the psalm closely, there is none of the language we have seen before. He is not dry and parched, he is not under attack and afraid, he is not questioning from grief or doubting in anxiety, he is grateful that the Lord is near, and he has set his heart to be nearer.

We pray so often for God to be with us, but how often do we do the work of being with Him? That is what pilgrimage was; that is what going to God’s house is supposed to be. It cannot be about getting to God because we know that God has come to us, it is about giving ourselves to God. It is not about getting from Him but giving to Him, not about hearing His voice but allowing Him to hear ours. We are not weary pilgrims hoping to have our needs met, we are citizens of heaven confident in the goodness and kindness of our King. We are not entitled children coming to get the portion we deserve; we are Mephibosheth eating every meal in awe that he has been seated at the King’s table. It is not the house that is lovely, the One in the house is beloved. The psalmist said, “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.” In our vernacular, “I would rather be in standing room with you, than have the best seat with anybody else.” Is that how lovely God is to us? Has His love captured our hearts in such a way that only He can satisfy our desires? Has His presence with us caused us to long to give our presence to Him? Is He lovely or beloved? Do we go to His house to get things from Him or to give ourselves to Him? His dwelling place is only lovely if we love the One who dwells there.