Do me a favor. Find your Bible and read Psalm 48 in its entirety out loud. Read it from this perspective… a personal perspective. One that understands that you, because of your sacred status as a believer in Jesus Christ, are the living temple of the living God’s, living Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19). That the outward and visible signs of the old covenant, which were once carved in stone, have now moved inward and are carved upon your heart by the precious blood of the cross. Read Psalm 48 that way and when you are finished… walk about your temple and compass around her walls. And then…
- Count your towers.
- Consider your ramparts.
- View your citadels.
Towers. Migdal in the Hebrew language meaning, “elevated stage, pulpits, raised bed.”
Ramparts. Cheyl in the Hebrew language meaning, “fortress, wall.”
Citadels. Armown in the Hebrew language meaning, “palace.”
Thus, count your stages; consider your walls; view your palace.
What God is asking us to do with this passage of scripture is not only to ponder this holy admonition as it occurred in context a couple of millennia ago, but greater still to ponder its worthiness as it pertains to our lives right now. I don’t know about you, but as I walk about my “temple” this day, I’m not sure I see what God sees. The last few weeks of my life have been a blur at best, and I seem to be crumbling to rubble rather than rising to the “temple status” as described in Psalm 48.
I have no personal pulpits to mount (although my family might disagree). No gleaming ramparts to display. No citadels in which to stage my kingdom. Instead, I have boxes and stress and precious few moments of intimate exchange with my Father. No, when I look around at this crazy mess that I call my life, I don’t see much personal application in keeping with the status of Psalm 48. But then again, I don’t always see like my Father sees.
It’s not my pulpits or my best efforts at polishing my life or even the thrones that I ascend that give occasion for my Father’s notice. None of my self-impressed notions, self-imposed restrictions, or self-maintained guidelines garner me the attention of my King. What makes me attractive to him—what elevates me above all the other “fortresses” that are being erected around me in hopes of garnering the world’s notice—is the One, luminous stronghold who lives within my temple walls:
“God is in her citadels; he has shown himself to be her fortress.” {Psalm 48:3}
Indeed he has… shown himself to be my fortress—the Hebrew word misgab meaning, “high place, refuge, secure height, retreat.” I shudder to think of how miserable my life would be living right now if not for the saving, long-reach of Father God. If he were not my high place… my retreat, then my walk about within my palace would be a futile attempt at grasping for personal significance. And quite honestly, who of us needs that kind of exhaustion? Trying to matter to the world without the fortification of and identification with the King will, indeed, leave us with our rubble rather than his restoration. If we’re counting on the outward manifestations of our “pretty” to serve as a lasting impression for the generations to come, then we are one generation away from being forgotten.
Why? Because our attempts regarding our “outward” don’t last; God’s continuing perfection of our “inward” is enduring. When we allow the Master Builder his hands in our palace construction, our tower raising, and our fortress fortification, then what is left behind is something worthy of survey and remembrance. Therefore, precious sojourners on the pilgrimage of grace…
Count your towers. Consider your ramparts. View your citadels.
Because of Jesus, you are a gleaming temple fit for the presence of the glorious, ever-present, always-with-you, King. Only he can bring such beauty to the messiness of your flesh. Only he can make Psalm 48 an up-to-date “write” for your life; mine as well. Thus, I pray…
Walk with me, Father, around my temple today. Together, let us count these towers, consider these ramparts, and view these citadels from your heavenly perspective, not mine. Where there is crumbling, Lord, repair the brokenness. Where there are personal pulpits erected for personal means, tear them down and replace them with your cross. Where there is dullness, shine me with the lustrous revelation of that first, Easter morning sunrise. You are what makes me beautiful and worthy of the next generation’s pause. Today, I humbly ask you to come and make my temple a commendable home for your heart. Thank you for making Psalm 48 a good “write” for my life. Amen.
Peace for the journey,
PS: Please note that all word study references were obtained from Studylight–a wonderful website devoted to helping the average Bible reader strengthen his/her understanding regarding the original language/text of Scripture. Check them out.
Copyright © July 2010 – Elaine Olsen