Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. (Psa 51:12-13)
“Renewable” is a hot word. Like alchemy of old we’re transfixed on the idea that we can create for ourselves a source of energy—of life!—that we can always return to and find it ready to give us good things. That’d be nice, sure. But what I really need is a renewable source of peace, of contentment, of approval and acceptance, of clear guidance, of help in my distress. I want joy. All the time. Because it leaches from my heart. This world is like a heat sink for joy: it constantly dissipates it.
Psalm 51 introduces us to the source of renewable joy.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation.
Let’s observe. First, God’s salvation is meant to produce joy. Joy is the proper condition of those who have received the work God has done. Second, it is God’s work, of course. I think the King James said, “Thy,” which my narcissistic heart turned into “my.” Not that I thought that I had accomplished salvation by anything I’d done, but that I viewed the saving work of Christ as primarily a thing that belonged to me. It was mine. This is not true. First of all it is something that God has done; it is His. He shares it. It’s called “grace.”
Third, joy in God’s salvation is not an automatic feature. The proper emotional state of someone for whom God has done all this, to whom God has given all this, is joy. But we don’t often have that proper emotional response. We often feel joyless, even though we are saved. The Psalmist feels joyless.
There may be many reasons why he is joyless, but the context is some clue: “A Psalm of David, when Nathan the prophet went to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.” Perhaps joylessness in salvation is the proper emotional state for someone who has traded God’s love for an immediate, short-term, pleasure, and found it to be a foolish swap. When I’ve filled myself on sand-sandwiches, roast meat is more nauseating than appetizing. Hearing of God’s love when I’ve been neck deep in self-destructive behavior would be like attending a joyous birthday party when you’re hungover. No joy in Mudville!
But the more immediate truth stated here is that joy in God ebbs and flows. And, fourth, it is restored to us as, again, a work of God. So salvation is all grace, all God’s gift. But so too, as sinners, is a renewed sense of it’s being wonderful. Salvation is grace; joy in salvation is grace. And, thanks be to God, grace is kind of His main thing!
What does this suggest for us today? Perhaps firstly a caution against compounding our bad feelings for our sin with bad feelings about how bad we feel for our sin. That’s a toxic brew! Feelings are feelings, neither good nor bad. And the first step on the staircase out of that dungeon is to turn, again, to Jesus: “Please, restore to me joy in You.” Wherever you are today, if it’s badish, take that step. God is eager to exalt His salvation, eager to give us joy because of Jesus. This is a prayer He is motivated to approve!
And so return to the most fundamental truths of your situation. You are a sinner who needs saving. God is a God who saves. You are still a sinner who needs saving. God is still a God who saves. And so you may, from time to time, do epically stupid things. But when that happens, know that God is still the God of an epically wonderful salvation.
If self-flagellation worked, we’d all be shredded beef. But the only thing that ever has worked, here, there, or yonder, is God’s saving love. There’s joy in them-there hills, friends. And the first act of obedient faith is a pause for prayer, for prayer is reattaching our minds to God’s saving love, to hope. “Restore joy in My salvation for you? Absolutely! I’d love to!”
Our God and His Good News is the only truly Renewable that’s ever been. Long after the universe is a smoking husk, He’ll still be there, blazing, for you. And that’s Him, here now too. Enjoy.
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
