This is an article that I wrote some time ago, but which definitely maintains its relevance today. May we always maintain teachable hearts.
This is an article that I wrote some time ago, but which definitely maintains its relevance today. May we always maintain teachable hearts.
And so we continue on with Psalm 119, the longest psalm in the book.
The thing I see in this passage, is the humble heart of the psalmist. A heart that says, “I don’t know everything. Give me understanding.”
He says in verses 18-19,
Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law. I am a stranger on earth; do not hide your commands from me. (Psalm 119:18-19)
In other words, “I’m a stranger around here. I’m a stranger to your laws and ways. To what you want of me. But I know you want what’s good for me. So open my eyes. Give me understanding as to what you want of me.”
He goes on to say,
Teach me your decrees. Let me understand the teaching of your precepts; then I will meditate on your wonders. (26-27)
Again, you see the humble, teachable heart of the psalmist.
He goes on to talk about how he was laid low, weary with sorrow, most likely because of his sin. And so he says, “Strengthen me through your word. I now choose to follow you. In fact, I run to follow your path.” (25-32)
Why?
“For you have set my heart free.” (32b)
Note that the last sentence refers to the past. You have already set me free. You have already forgiven me. So having been forgiven and set free, I gladly run into your path that gives life.”
Then in the next few verses, he cries out, “Teach me to follow your decrees.” (33)
And again, “Give me understanding.” (34)
And yet again, “Direct me in the path of your commands.” (35)
In short, “I don’t know. I don’t understand. Please teach me. Grant me understanding.”
So often in life, we convince ourselves that we do know. That we have all the knowledge and wisdom we need for life.
But that kind of thinking ultimately leads to destruction and shame. We must always have a heart that is humble, and open to the teaching of God.
Not only that, we need a heart that admits, “I can’t live this way in my own strength.” We talked about this in the last blog.
This is why the psalmist prays for God’s help, saying,
Turn my heart toward your statutes and not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes away from worthless things. (36-37)
And as he ends this section he says,
Preserve my life in my righteousness.
Whoa! Did you catch that? He didn’t say, “Preserve my life in my righteousness.”
He said,
Preserve my life in your righteousness. (40)
God doesn’t save us through our righteousness, but through his righteousness that he imparts to us when we put our faith in him.
The psalmist knew he could never be preserved through his own righteousness. But only because of God’s.
And it’s the same with us. So let us cast aside pride in our lives. Pride in our own righteousness. Pride in our own understanding.
Rather, let us come before God humbly, saying, “Teach me. Give me understanding.”
And when we do, God promises to do so.
As a teacher, there are few things more frustrating than having students that don’t want to learn.
I’ve been in classrooms where students show no effort whatsoever, and look almost at shock at you when you try to encourage them to do an activity.
I suppose the one thing that is worse than that are students who think they know it all. They take an attitude of “I know already. You don’t have to tell me. I already know everything.”
And yet when you ask them about the subject matter, it’s clear that they don’t know nearly as much as they think they do.
That’s what the Israelites were like, even their “priests and prophets.”
I put quotations there because what priests and prophets they had in the northern kingdom were false priests and false prophets who had syncretized the true faith with the worship of false idols.
In this passage, Isaiah pictures them as worthless men, drunk and befuddled.
These men who were supposed to lead people in the worship of God, were instead seeing wine-induced “visions” that were leading people away from God rather than toward him.
But whenever Isaiah or any of the true prophets tried to correct them, they would scoff saying,
Who is it he is trying to teach? To whom is he explaining his message? To children weaned from their milk, to those just taken from the breast?
For it is: Do and do, do and do, rule on rule, rule on rule; a little here, a little there.” (Isaiah 28:9-10)
In other words, “We already know everything. We’re not children. All he’s doing is speaking gibberish.”
(The words “do and do, rule on rule, a little here, a little there” are literally translated from what are meaningless like sounds in the Hebrew. “sav lasav sav lasav,kav lakav kav lakav, ze’ er sham, ze’ er sham.”)
It calls to mind what the Athenians said of Paul after he started arguing with them, calling him a mere babbler. (Acts 17:18)
But because of this attitude, Isaiah warns the Israelite priests and prophets that these “meaningless” words would be followed by more words that were meaningless to them, words spoken by the foreign powers that would enslave them.
God’s desire was that they would rest in him. That they would love and put their trust in him. And if they would only do so, he would be their resting place, a place where the weary could rest. (Isaiah 28:12)
But because they turned their backs on him, he said that this word that they rejected would be their downfall.
It’s the same story today. Many people hear the Gospel of Christ in all its simplicity, and dismiss it as mere babble. As a children’s story that real adults grow out of.
But by rejecting him who is our salvation, they fall into sin and eternal judgment.
Even Christians can fall into the trap of “I know.”
They go to church, and when they hear the message, they say, “I know this already.”
Or simply, “I don’t really want to hear this,” and they turn off their ears and miss what God’s trying to tell them.
In doing so, they not only miss the warnings God may be trying to give them, but also his blessings.
How about you? What do you do with the words of God? Do you reject them as mere babble? Or do you take them into your heart? Do you let them transform you?
So often, we wonder why we have so many problems in our lives. We wonder why we don’t seem to find God’s blessings in our lives. Most of the time, it’s because we’re not listening.
What kind of heart do you have?
I was talking to a friend recently, and since I had just celebrated my latest birthday, we were talking a bit about the changes that come with the years.
One thing I mentioned was that I know a lot less than I did at 24.
At 24, I thought I knew it all.
Now at … years old, I realize how little I really do know.
This is not to say I haven’t grown in knowledge and wisdom over the years. I have.
It’s just that I realize how inadequate my knowledge and wisdom was then and is even now.
My friend said it’s a sign of wisdom that I realize that. I suppose it is.
But even at my age, I still have a lot to learn.
It occurs to me as I read this story of Moses and Jethro, that I always kind of thought of Moses as a relatively young man, taking advice from an older one.
But at this point, Moses was already 80 plus years old. He was now the leader of a nation and was considered to have the wisdom to deal with all the disputes that were coming to him every day from morning to evening.
It would’ve been easy for Moses to say to Jethro, “I don’t need your advice. I hear from God. I already have the knowledge and wisdom I need. Buzz off.”
But Moses didn’t do that. He had the humility to hear the wisdom in Jethro’s words.
He also had the humility to know that God could use others to do the work he was doing, and the humility to delegate those responsibilities out.
What about us? How teachable are we?
I have to admit that I’m not as teachable as I probably should be.
Although I realize more than I did when I was 24 how little I really know, there’s still a part of me that’s proud and would like to think I know all that I really need to.
How much wiser would I be now, if I had had a more teachable heart over the years?
How much more wisdom would I have to pass on to others now if I had been willing to absorb more wisdom from others over the years?
Lord, too many times I have been unteachable. Too many times I’ve closed my heart to hearing wisdom because I thought I knew it all. Forgive me.
Soften my heart so that I may hear the wisdom that you’re trying to get across to me.
Give me the humility to seek out wisdom from others. Give me the humility to accept wisdom from others.
Let me never think I know it all. Instead, give me a heart that constantly seeks to grow in your wisdom and knowledge. In Jesus’ name, amen.