Faithfulness Under Opposition
I am going to confess something to you. In college, I took a class called “Walking.” And I made a B. I tripped. Just kidding. I didn’t trip, but I, embarrassingly, did make a B.
This passage today is marked by the Hebrew letter ג “gimel,” and it carries a sense of movement and reliance. In the Hebrew tradition, gimel is often associated with walking and taking one step at a time. That is exactly what the psalmist is doing here. He is turning to God for grace to keep moving, for guidance to stay on course, and for strength to endure the challenges ahead.
What makes this section so powerful is its raw honesty. The psalmist doesn’t shy away from the reality of opposition. He feels the weight of living as a sojourner, someone who doesn’t quite fit in this world. He is confronted by the arrogance of others and the schemes of those who want to tear him down. But instead of being crushed by it all, he presses into God’s Word. He finds life and clarity and joy and amazement in Scripture.
That is the heart of this passage and turning to God’s Word not just for answers but for the strength to keep going. So as we open this text today, let’s see what it means to walk faithfully one step at a time, trusting that God’s Word is enough to sustain us through whatever we face.
Psalm 119:17-24
God’s grace brings life, and His Word brings wonder. (17-18)
Verses 17 and 18 say, “Deal bountifully with your servant, that I may live and keep your word. Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.” This is one of the most humble and honest prayers you’ll hear. The psalmist isn’t coming to God like he’s entitled to anything. He calls himself “your servant,” recognizing his place before the Almighty. He knows he doesn’t deserve anything from God, but he boldly asks anyway. Why? Because he knows that God is abundant in grace. He knows that if he’s going to live, really live, it’s only because God pours out His goodness.
But notice how he doesn’t stop at just asking to live. He says, “that I may live and keep your word.” This isn’t about survival. It’s not about just getting through life or scraping by. He’s saying, “God, I want to live the kind of life You’ve called me to. I want my life to be shaped by Your Word, not my own desires.” That’s humility. He’s not asking for blessings to serve himself. He’s asking for blessings so he can serve God.
And then comes the second half of his prayer, and it’s so raw and desperate. He says, “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.” Think about that. He’s admitting he can’t see. He’s saying, “God, I’m blind to the beauty and wonder of Your Word unless You show it to me.” That’s a level of dependence that most of us aren’t comfortable with. We like to think we’ve got it all figured out. We open our Bibles and expect to understand it all on our own. But the psalmist knows better. He knows that without God’s help, he’ll miss it.
Have you ever felt that way? Like you’re trying to read the Bible, but it’s just not clicking? Or maybe you’ve heard people talk about how amazing God’s Word is, but you don’t feel it for yourself. That’s why this prayer is so important. The psalmist is showing us how to come to God, not with pride or self-sufficiency, but with humility and hunger. He’s saying, “God, I can’t do this without You. I need You to show me the wonders of Your Word.”
Our sinful nature isn’t the only part of us that is fallen and affected by sin. Our mind is too. In theology that’s called the noetic effects of sin.[1] Noetic comes from the Greek word for mind, nous. You cannot fully understand God’s Word until you are regenerate, until you are made new. We are not just blind apart from our salvation in Christ. We are dead. We are unable to comprehend the things of God. But once your heart is opened, so is your mind. The psalmist is hitting on that here. He knows he is blind to God’s ways and God’s words apart from God’s works.
H.B. Charles says, “The Bible is clear enough for any literate person to understand its basic message. The clarity of scripture is not the problem. The problem is that sin, Satan, and suffering close our eyes.” He then quotes Charles Bridges, who wrote: “What then is the prayer? Not – give me a plainer Bible – but open my eyes to know my Bible. Not – show me some new revelations besides the law – but make me to behold the wonders of the law.”[2] And the psalmist knows what’s truly to be found in God’s Word—wondrous things.
Let’s talk about that word “wondrous” for a second. He’s not just asking for something interesting or insightful. He’s asking to see things that will leave him in awe of God. The Bible isn’t just a rulebook. It’s not just a collection of stories. It’s filled with the wonders of who God is and what He’s done. When was the last time you came to Scripture expecting to be amazed? Not just informed, but moved to worship because of what you see?
This reminds me of Luke 24:45, where Jesus opens the minds of His disciples so they can understand the Scriptures.
44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, 46 and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, 47 and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things.
John Wesley said, “I want to know one thing – the way to heaven. God himself has condescended to teach the way. He hath written it down in a book. Oh, give me that Book! At any price, give me the Book of God!”
Remember you’re just passing through. (19-20)
Verses 19 and 20 say, “I am a sojourner on the earth; hide not your commandments from me! My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times.” Do you feel the weight of that? The psalmist is pouring his heart out to God, saying, “I don’t belong here.” He’s not at home in this world, and he knows it. He’s a stranger, an outsider, someone who feels the ache of not fitting in. He’s walking through a world that doesn’t reflect the values of the God he loves, and he’s saying, “God, I can’t make it without You.”
This isn’t just poetic language. This is someone who feels the tension between where they are and where they know they’re meant to be. A sojourner doesn’t settle down, and they don’t get too comfortable. They know they’re just passing through, and that’s how the psalmist sees his life. He’s not rooted in this world. He’s living for something bigger, something eternal. 1 Peter 2:11 calls us “sojourners and exiles,” and Philippians 3:20 reminds us that our citizenship is in heaven. But the psalmist doesn’t just acknowledge this reality. He lives it.
And then he says something so vulnerable: “Hide not your commandments from me!” He’s not demanding anything from God. He’s pleading. He knows he can’t navigate this life without God’s Word. He’s admitting his weakness, his dependence, his need for direction. This is someone who’s desperate for God to show up and speak. Have you ever prayed like that? Have you ever cried out to God because you didn’t know what else to do or where to go? That’s the kind of prayer the psalmist is offering here.
It's like being lost and desperate to find your way home. You’re calling out for help, for anyone to navigate you to the right path, to the one that leads home. You have to first admit you’re lost before you will ever find your way home. You’ll keep heading in the wrong direction.
And then verse 20 takes it even deeper. He says, “My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times.” Not occasionally. Not when it’s convenient. At all times. This isn’t casual. This is hunger. This is thirst. This is someone who knows that God’s Word is the only thing that will sustain them. It reminds me of Psalm 42:1, where it says, “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.” That’s the kind of longing the psalmist is talking about. He’s not satisfied with anything less than God’s truth.
But let’s be real. How often do we live like this? How often do we come to God’s Word with this kind of desperation? Most of us treat the Bible like it’s optional, like it’s something we’ll get to if we have time. But the psalmist isn’t treating it that way. He’s saying, “I can’t live without it.” He’s showing us what it means to crave Scripture the way you’d crave water in the desert.
This is what it means to live like a sojourner. It means recognizing that this world is not your home and living like it. It means letting go of the things that don’t last and clinging to the one thing that does. It means waking up every day and saying, “God, I need You. I need Your Word to guide me, to sustain me, to keep me going.”
So here’s the question. Do you see yourself as a sojourner, or are you too comfortable here? Are you living with an eternal perspective, or are you distracted by the temporary? And what are you longing for? Is it God’s Word, or is it something else?
As we transition to the next 4 verses, hear what H.B. Charles says:
“In the first four verses of this stanza, we see one who struggles for God’s word. In the last four verses of this stanza, we see those who struggle against God’s word. Every person is on one side or the other. Which side are you on? If you are on the Lord’s side, he will sustain you as you suffer at the hands of those on the other side.”
God’s justice lifts you when the world brings you down. (21-22)
Verses 21 and 22 say, “You rebuke the insolent, accursed ones, who wander from your commandments. Take away from me scorn and contempt, for I have kept your testimonies.” The psalmist isn’t sugarcoating what it feels like to live in a world that opposes God. He’s not pretending it’s easy. He feels the weight of people’s scorn and contempt, and he takes that weight straight to God.
In verse 21, the psalmist says something we don’t like to talk about much. He says, “You rebuke the insolent.” He’s reminding himself that God sees the arrogance and rebellion of people who ignore Him. God is not blind to the proud. One of the meanings the Hebrew letter gimel carries with it is pride.
The psalmist isn’t ignoring the injustice of those who mock His Word. God doesn’t just see it. He rebukes it. That word “rebuke” isn’t soft. It’s not a gentle nudge. It’s the holy God of the universe confronting people who think they can live without Him. The psalmist knows this, and it’s where he finds peace. He doesn’t have to fix it. He doesn’t have to carry the burden of justice. He knows God will handle it.
In verse 22, he prays, “Take away from me scorn and contempt, for I have kept your testimonies.” That’s such an honest prayer. He’s saying, “God, this is hard. The insults are real, and they’re heavy. But I’m clinging to Your Word anyway.” Do you see the tension in that? He’s being attacked, but he’s not giving up. He’s staying faithful even when it costs him.
This is where it gets so real for us. When people mock you for your faith, when they tear you down for standing on God’s truth, it is so tempting to fight back. It’s so tempting to want to prove yourself or defend your name. But the psalmist is showing us a better way. He’s saying, “Let God handle it. Let God be your defender.” He knows that God’s justice is enough. He knows that God sees what others don’t, and He will take care of it.
And here’s the beautiful thing. When you trust God with your pain, it doesn’t break you. It frees you. You don’t have to carry the weight of trying to fix everything. You don’t have to let bitterness eat away at your soul. You can release it to the God who sees, the God who knows, and the God who rebukes the proud.
Opposition can’t break a heart that delights in God’s Word. (23-24)
Verses 23 and 24 say, “Even though princes sit plotting against me, your servant will meditate on your statutes. Your testimonies are my delight; they are my counselors.” The psalmist is facing powerful enemies. These aren’t random critics or anonymous online trolls. These are people with influence, people who have the power to literally make his life miserable. They’re plotting against him, scheming to tear him down. And yet, his response is so unexpected. He doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t defend himself. He turns to God’s Word.
He says, “Your servant will meditate on your statutes.” That’s not passive, as it may seem. That’s a declaration of war against fear and anxiety. The psalmist is saying, “I won’t let their schemes consume me. I’m going to fix my mind on something bigger.” Meditation on Scripture isn’t just reading a verse and moving on. It’s holding onto God’s Word. It’s letting the truth of Scripture sink so deep into your heart that it reshapes how you see everything. The psalmist isn’t pretending the opposition isn’t real. He’s just choosing to focus on something greater.
And then he says, “Your testimonies are my delight; they are my counselors.” The psalmist isn’t just reading God’s Word because he feels obligated. He delights in it. He finds joy in it. He lets it counsel him. When the world is pressing in, God’s Word is his guide, his comfort, his source of peace. He’s not running to people for advice. He’s not letting fear make his decisions. He’s letting Scripture tell him what’s true and what matters.
Opposition is real, and it hurts. But it can’t break a heart that finds joy in God’s Word. So instead of reacting, meditate. Instead of letting fear take over, delight in Scripture. Let it be your guide. Let it be your peace. Let it bring you safely home.
Every longing of the psalmist finds its fulfillment in Jesus.
Think about it. The psalmist cried out for God to deal bountifully with him, to pour out grace so he could live and walk in obedience. That cry finds its ultimate answer in Jesus. God sent His Son to deal with us not according to what we deserve but according to His abundant grace. Jesus said, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). The life the psalmist prayed for is the life Jesus offers—a life made whole by His death and resurrection.
And when the psalmist prayed for God to open his eyes to see the wonders of His Word, Jesus fulfilled that prayer too. He is the Word made flesh. The greatest wonder of Scripture is Jesus Himself, stepping into our broken world to save us. On the road to Emmaus, Jesus opened the eyes of His disciples to see how all of Scripture points to Him. He’s not just the source of life. He’s the focus of every page of God’s Word.
And what about justice? The psalmist trusted God to deal with the proud and protect the faithful. Jesus is the ultimate fulfillment of that justice. On the cross, He bore the weight of all our sin and rebellion so that we could be forgiven. And in His resurrection, He conquered sin, death, and every power that opposes God. One day, He will return to set all things right. Every insult, every injustice, and every wound will be healed because Jesus is the perfect Judge and King.
But here’s the heart of it all. This psalm reminds us that God’s Word is our salvation. And Jesus is that Word. He’s the one who gives us the grace to live, the guidance to walk through this broken world, and the joy to endure even the hardest trials. And He’s inviting you into that life today. If you’ve been trying to navigate this life on your own, if you feel the weight of opposition or the emptiness of living for things that don’t last, Jesus is calling you to come to Him.
He lived the perfect life we couldn’t live. He died the death we deserved. And He rose again so that we could have eternal life, not just someday, but right now. He’s offering you grace, forgiveness, and the kind of life the psalmist longed for—a life that’s built on God’s truth and filled with His joy.
[1] https://www.gotquestions.org/noetic-effects-of-sin.html
[2] https://hbcharlesjr.com/resource-library/sermon-outlines/sustaining-grace-in-gods-word-psalm-11917-24
