Psalm 121 from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.

We have something of a problem this morning. Our text is about a helper, but most of us don’t need help. Or so we think.

I remember 12 or so years ago helping lead a Youth Retreat. The one leading the singing stopped in between songs and asked the 40 or so teenagers in the room, “Does anyone have anything you’d like us to pray for?” What followed is probably what you’ve experienced quite a few times. It’s what we call deafening silence. But what the Worship Leader did next is what sticks with me. He quipped, tongue firmly in cheek, “No needs? Great!” He’d made his point; we sang the next song.

“I can do it” kicks off in the crib. From there, it merely picks up steam. When men open the box, they stick out their chests and throw aside the instructions. A friend might call offering help in a busy season. Unfathomably, though moments before you told your spouse that you’re completely overwhelmed, you reply, “Thank you so much. That’s kind of you. But we’re ok.”

Further, we applaud this brand of autonomy. One of my favorite Tony Allen moments from his time with the Grizzlies was in January of this year. The Grizz were playing the Golden State Warriors, the best team in the NBA by a long shot. The bad guys are up by 24 in the second half. Finally, in the fourth quarter the coach brings in Tony Allen and sticks him on Steph Curry. Little by little, the Grizz chip away at the lead. After scoring 30 points in the first 3 quarters, the so–called “Warriors” scored 13 in the final quarter. The Grizz won in overtime. But the moment I remember––that’s pertinent––is when one of the TV mics picked up Tony Allen in that fourth quarter. Allen’s shutting down one of the great shooters in the history of the NBA, almost by himself. Though teams often double–team Curry, the TV mic picked up Tony yelling over and over, “I don’t need no help.”

And he didn’t. And everyone loved it. And, of course, it’s fine on the court.

But if you’re always thinking, “I got this” and those who surround you think more highly of you if you “got this” then your notions of self–sufficiency can get out of control. You can convince yourself that in all things you have no need. And the culture, even church culture, might applaud you.

I’m not saying we need more entitled whiners. There are plenty.

But this is a text about help. And if you think you don’t need it, it has almost nothing to say to you.

Note first,

1. Who is my Helper?

This Psalm is one of the Psalms of ascent. The Pilgrims, some assert, sang these Psalms as they traveled to Jerusalem. While they might not have been composed for that purpose alone, they include themes traveling pilgrims would find helpful.

And few of these ascent Psalms are as clearly about a journey as this one. But this journey is not safe. This is not download the audiobook, hop in the air–conditioned SUV, and turn on the cruise. This is more like hiking the Appalachian trail if it were located in the Middle East. There are no travel blogs; no spruced up rest stops. On this journey, you’re braving the elements. This is a dangerous trip.

Psalm 121 will detail much of this. The Psalmist begins, I lift up my eyes to the hills.

Last Sunday morning, as I was getting ready to preach Psalm 67, I told Jim I was looking forward to studying 121 this week. And in something of a side comment he said, “You know there’s a good bit of debate about verses 1 and 2.” I think the look on my face made clear to Jim I was completely unaware. I’ve always had an assumption about the interpretation of these verses. Debate over 121? No way.

But Tuesday afternoon after I read my first commentary, I alerted Jim, “Guess what? You were right.”

Now, the debate doesn’t affect the application of the Psalm. Not in the least bit. And it is yet another thing we can’t know for certain unless we were sitting next to the Psalmist while he was writing it.

But the debate is essentially over which direction the pilgrim is head[...]