Author
Samuel Acevedo
Summary: God is our refuge, strength, and ever-present help, even when everything seems to be falling apart. Therefore, being still does not mean being passive, but ceasing to struggle to control our lives and learning to trust that He is present, hears us, and will come to our rescue in His time. To attain this stillness, we must let go of three things: fear and anxiety; hasty decisions that lead to consequences contrary to God’s will; and negative thoughts, resentment, and bitterness that contaminate the heart. Instead of taking matters into our own hands or trying to change the hearts of others, we must guard our own hearts, forgive, and surrender our battles to the Lord. Trials enable us to know the great I Am not only through what we confess, but by experiencing His power, provision, and grace. Our King may come in a way different from what we expected—humbly and without spectacle—but His presence is enough. What matters most is waiting for Him, recognizing Him, and allowing Him to reveal His glory.
Psalm 46. As you turn to that Psalm—and today we are going to consider almost the entire Psalm—welcome to Palm Sunday here, the Sunday of Palms. And as we turn to Psalm 46, I believe the key text for Palm Sunday is Zechariah 9:9, isn’t it? “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem. Behold, your King will come to you, righteous and bringing salvation, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
Now, I don’t think it takes much—as I develop this message, you will see where the prophetic Word spoken by my sister Ibelice fits in—but I imagine that many of us are here waiting. The Lord brought you to the Lion of Judah Congregation today, and if so, welcome—waiting and pleading for our King to finally appear and rescue us. It may be that He needs to rescue us from a financial crisis, or perhaps from a health situation: a loved one battling cancer or some other terrible disease. Or it may be a relationship—perhaps your marriage, siblings or friends who no longer speak to one another, a brother in a distant land who does not reply to your text or your WhatsApp message, right? That happens in families. It may be a daughter or a son who has been keeping you awake at night for some time now, and you are praying for your Redeemer to arrive now and come to your rescue. If that is where you are, welcome to the club.
Now, a question: if He—your King, your Redeemer—were to arrive, would you recognize Him? Would you wait for Him? Here I am going to develop a personal lesson, and you are going to have the privilege of living through that lesson with me. Shortly before Christmas, I came into the service one Wednesday night in the original sanctuary with a burdened heart and perhaps—do not be scandalized—perhaps on the verge of losing hope that my Redeemer would arrive in time that day.
By the way, take note: the pastors who serve at Lion of Judah also attend Lion of Judah. Pastor Samuel, which church do you attend? I go to Lion of Judah. This is my church. Pastor Roberto is my pastor. This is where I wrestle with my struggles; this is where I bring my burdens to the Lord. I am just one more client at Lion of Judah, with my own struggle before the Lord, and this is one of them.
And the burden involved the nonprofit ministry I have the privilege of leading, the Center for Academic Resources, but it had deep roots touching almost every aspect of my life. Many of you have experienced how one problem—say, a financial problem—can affect your relationships, your health as well, and so forth; or perhaps a health problem similarly affects your relationships and your finances. It was a deep-rooted problem. How many of you know what I am talking about?
And after 16 years, I have already learned my lesson; I am accustomed to the Lord arriving just in time with a miraculous solution. I live waiting for the cavalry. I am used to that by now. But that afternoon, the situation seemed perhaps more difficult than ever, and although I may not have said it aloud, I was already losing hope in my heart. In fact, deep within my heart, perhaps without even realizing it myself, I was already devising an ultimate plan B, like an airplane pilot looking for the escape route.
These things are difficult to admit and even more difficult to share, especially as a pastor. One more detail: I was supposed to preach that night. I entered the original sanctuary shortly before the service began, greeting people. And as I greeted them, I approached a sister for whom I truly thank the Lord. I dedicate this message to the Lord Jesus and to that sister with the prophetic gift who was not afraid to share it with me that night.
That sister took both my hands with great intensity and sat me down beside her. If you saw her, it would seem that this alone was a miracle, okay? She sat me beside her; she had something urgent to share with me. “Samuel, how are you? How is Marina?” Apparently, what I am going through shows on my face, right? Then she told me; she announced, “A couple of nights ago, the Lord woke me up with a burden to pray for you and Marina, and He told me to tell you: ‘Be still and know that I am God. Be still.’” That comes from Psalm 46, right? We know it: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.” Glory to God.
Brother, I do not know what that Word does for you, but that Word sustained me. It encouraged me not only that night, but those two words, “be still,” have served as a banner for me during these weeks, in this season. It was as though the Lord were saying to me that night, “I sent that sister at that precise moment to tell you: ‘Samuel, I have not lost sight of you. I hear you. I see you, and I am coming for you. I am coming to your rescue. In the meantime, be still. In the meantime, I need you to be still.’”
As my mother often used to say, “Keep still, boy.” Tell your neighbor, “Keep still.” You have wanted to say that to your neighbor for a long time, haven’t you? “Keep still” (laughter). And in the following weeks, I have kept running into those words everywhere, even on our violinist’s thermos. He works as our director of English as a Second Language, and he came to a meeting with his thermos bearing this message. Okay, God, I get it, I get it; I understand. As they say, it was turning up everywhere: “Be still, Sam.” I understand.
The moment I received that Word, I recognized without a doubt that it was from God. No problem, I get it, God. But it was, and continues to be, a struggle for me to know how to do that. Think about it: how does God expect us to be still?
Being still is more difficult than it may seem. The parents here appear to be very familiar with the expression “Keep still.” Perhaps they have said it to someone in the back seat during a trip, maybe from here to New York. How long does that last, right? We are the same way; we find it difficult to be still. It is interesting.
One of the Words I received during this time came from Sister María Fernanda Alzamora, the wife of Evangelist Juan Carlos Alzamora. She shared a Word with Pastor Roberto—I do not know how many of you remember—and she told the pastor on the Lord’s behalf that the Lord was calling him to fight to be still.
Interesting. One translation of this text, instead of saying, “Be still and know that I am God,” says, “Stop striving and know that I am God.” In other words, combining the Word from Sister María Fernanda with this Word, it sounds like this: “Strive to stop striving.” Did I confuse you?
The Lord was calling him: “You have to stop in order to stop striving and know that I am God.” It seems like a contradiction, but it is not. Do you know why? Grammatically, “be still” is a verb phrase; it is something we do. Or rather, it is something we are—a state the Lord wants us to reach as Christians, Christians who have understood how to be still before the Lord and know that He is God. But how do we do that?
I had to come before the Lord and admit, “Father, truly, now that I think about it, I do not know how to be still in the way You expect. Show me; teach me.” I invite you to do the same: “Show me, Lord, how to be still before You.”
And first God had to show me what being still was not—the opposite of being still. In other words, the Word had to show me things I had to stop doing, things I was doing that were the opposite of being still—at least three things He is calling me to stop doing so that I may be still. Beginning with number one: Do not be anxious; do not fear; do not be anxious.
You know, many times, instead of calling us to be still, you will find that the Word calls us not to fear or not to be anxious. It is the same thing; it is the same declaration. If it does not say, “Be still,” it tells you the opposite: “Do not fear.” But it is the same message coming from the Holy Spirit, as in this declaration in verse 2 of Psalm 46, which we are now reading together. Verse 2 of Psalm 46 declares: “Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved and the mountains be carried into the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and be troubled, and the mountains tremble because of its raging.”
In other words, “Samuel, do not be afraid; do not despair.” Why? Verse 1: “God is our refuge and strength, our very present help in trouble.” Verse 5: “God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved. God shall help her at the break of dawn.” Verse 7: “The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.”
Selah. We almost never pronounce that word. The singers here know what that word means. It is a Hebrew instruction to the singers to be silent and pause at this point. That is what the Lord is calling us to do. It sounds beautiful, doesn’t it? Glory to God.
But the difficult thing is remaining conscious of it. It is one thing to declare, “God is with me, God is with me,” to confess it—(singing) “God is our refuge, our strength.” Declaring it is not the difficult part; the difficult part is being conscious that God—that God, the God of the invisible—is with us. And yet we still fear. No matter how much we declare it, we fear.
Do you remember how Jesus lay down to take a nap in the stern of the boat while a violent storm battered the boat’s deck? How did they react? Jesus is taking His little nap in the stern; the wind is destroying the sails. They wake Jesus, and Jesus gets up. I imagine Him with that calm: “And what is the problem? What is the problem?” “The problem, brother, is going to swallow us up! We are going to drown! Don’t You care?” That is literally what they say: “Don’t You care? The sea is going to swallow us, Jesus!” they say. “Hello!” (sounds of the wind blowing). “Peace, be silent; be still.” And there was a great calm.
Verse 40 of Mark 4 has Jesus looking at the disciples and asking them, “Why are you so afraid? How is it that you have no faith?” “Then they feared with great”—now they truly were afraid, if they had not been before—“with great fear, and said to one another, ‘Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?’” And the answer is that He, the same Lord, the same God who was taking His little nap in the stern of the boat, is the same God of Psalm 46: “The nations raged; the kingdoms were shaken. He uttered His voice, and the earth melted.” He is the same God. He is with us, and we have to train and condition ourselves to the fact that He is near—He is near—and not be afraid.
First, do not fear; do not be anxious. The second thing we must stop doing if we want to learn to be still is this: do not do anything hastily; do not do anything hastily. Do not run ahead and take matters into your own hands. What does this mean? Today God is telling you, “I see you; I am coming for you.” You say, “Glory to God.” But I do not know whether we do not believe Him or whether we find Him a little slow or lazy. Why don’t we give Him a hand? We lend Him a hand and help Him.
Do you remember how Ishmael, Abraham’s son, was born? God promised Abraham and Sarah a son despite their advanced age—Abraham was nearly a hundred years old—but God took a long time to fulfill the promise. Perhaps many of us here have a promise God gave us years ago, and we are still waiting for it.
And Sarah and Abraham decided to give God a hand with the promise. Abraham had a son with Hagar. Sarah says to Abraham, “Look, get to it” (laughter). “God understands. Perhaps it is God’s will. Glory to God. Get to it, and may God go with you.” And Ishmael came from that—Ishmael.
And brothers and sisters, as Sister Ibelice was declaring, to this very day the relationship between the descendants of Ishmael and the descendants of Isaac is a disaster. Perhaps God can glorify Himself in the matter, and He will, because He loves us and does not abandon us. But I can assure you that this was not God’s plan for Abraham and Sarah, and an Ishmael is not what God has in mind for you either.
In our desperation, we are capable of creating—be careful about this, my brothers and sisters—in our desperation, we are capable of creating an Ishmael, brothers and sisters, an Ishmael. Perhaps it means leaving the church, perhaps abandoning your studies or quitting your job, sending an angry message on Facebook and spreading it to the four winds. And to get ourselves out of a predicament, we stretch the truth a little, right? Or we bend the rules at work—or, more dangerously, the law—to escape a trial.
Sometimes serious consequences accompany our Ishmaels. In His love and grace, God picks up the pieces and repairs the damage we leave behind. He does not turn away from you; He commits Himself to working with you despite your stubbornness. But it is not what He had in mind for you. I am sure that many of the plans I was devising at that moment that night would have given birth to an Ishmael. Who knows whether I would be here today? Satan might have prevented you from hearing this message today if I had carried out my plan B instead of waiting for the One who arrived—glory to God—in His time and in His way.
But imagine this: one day in glory, explaining it to the Lord, with the Lord asking, “Samuel, what were you thinking? Why did you do that? Didn’t I tell you I was coming for you? Why didn’t you wait for Me?”
Do not rush. I am sure that I already have a couple of Ishmaels running around in the yard whom God, in His sovereignty, has visited with His grace. But what I want is God’s perfect will for my life, and that is what you want as well.
Number three, the third thing we have to let go of: do not harbor negative thoughts, do not harbor negative thoughts. Anger, grudges, resentments, etc. Perhaps your fears will not lead you to do something rash; in fact, perhaps you are not even in a position to do anything, but instead you internalize your fear, you internalize your stress, and you poison yourself by harboring grudges against people who perhaps do not see things as you do, or whom you are convinced have hurt you, or taken something away from you, or denied you something you think you deserve—a boss, a former friend, a former husband, a former wife, a pastor. As time passes, that grudge turns into resentment; give resentment some time and it becomes bitterness—bitterness against the whole world in your heart—and eventually turns your heart into a garbage dump: your heart, the temple of the Holy Spirit, grieving Him within you.
That is what Ephesians chapter 4 warns us about. That is like taking a dumpster, emptying it out here in front of the altar, and turning that into your heart. Being still requires us to put away, as Ephesians chapter 4, verse 31 says: “Let all bitterness, wrath, clamor, and evil speaking, and all malice, be put away from you; and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God also forgave you in Christ.” Listen to the pastor’s message from last week about grace; it is the same idea.
Here, “Be still, and know that I am God” is a call to let God fight our battle with His armor and not ours. God’s weapons are not of this world, but they are more effective. In fact, one of my favorite passages in this glorious Psalm, for me, is verse 9: “Our God is the God who makes wars cease to the ends of the earth, who cuts the bow, who breaks the spear, who burns the chariots in the fire.” God’s method may not be the method you prefer, because God’s method is to put an end to wars and conflicts once and for all and establish His peace, His well-being.
You do not win, she does not win, the other person does not win; the One who won was God. And if we are His creatures, if you are the apple of His eye and God wins—hey, you won too. Perhaps you would have lost more in that mess. Do not concern yourself with trying to shape other people’s hearts; be still. Do not concern yourself with other people’s hearts. That is not to be touched; that is not our responsibility.
The king’s heart, the Word says—and everyone’s heart—is where? In the hand of the LORD. And if there is something you need to be concerned about, use that energy to tend to your own heart, your own heart. Seriously, what does God see when He looks at your heart?
When you are alone before the Lord, bring that to Him. And many of these resentments, grudges, and feelings of bitterness, when they decide to visit us, do so precisely during our times of prayer—a bombardment at that very moment. We open the Word, we become still, and the last thing Satan wants is for you to have fellowship with the Holy Spirit. “You love bitterness, you love holding a grudge. Do you remember what they did to you?” Look, and you waste that precious time on poison, when you should be saying to the Lord: Make me a man of love, so that You may see love, kindness, mercy, a habit of forgiving offenses; may God find nothing that limits His grace in you. That is what this is about.
I want my heart to be a clean channel through which God’s grace can flow, so that His grace and His revelation may reach me. That is what this is about, and let God take care of other people’s hearts. Hand them over to God. Bring your enemies list—Nixon apparently kept one in a safe (laughs)—look, bring your enemies list, take it out, and do not leave here without bringing it to the Lord’s feet. Better yet, nail it to the cross and leave it there; in fact, especially if you are one of those enemies.
Many of us carry resentment against ourselves, convicted because of Ishmael. Let that go; the blood of Christ covers a multitude of sins. The Lord forgave you. If God says to you, “I love you,” you say to Him, “Thank You.” If God says to you, “I forgive you,” you say to Him, “Thank You.” If God says to you, “A clean slate,” you say to Him, “Thank You, Jesus.” Nail it to the cross, and do not let that burden you either.
My brothers and sisters, if that is what we have to stop doing, then what does it mean to be still, Pastor? How does verse 10 go again? “Be still,” and what? “And know that I am God.” Another translation says: “Stop striving, and know that I am God.” Stop striving to be the boss of your own life, of your own world, and know that I am God—and you are not.
Another way that text has been translated is this: “Be still and know the I AM.” That is a legitimate way to translate that Hebrew phrase: be still and know. You come to know the great I AM, and that is what God wants through all this. You see a struggle, you see a problem, you see a challenge, you see your worst nightmare unfolding before you, you see a lion that wants to swallow you alive. God sees an opportunity to show you His glory. God sees an opportunity for you finally to know who He truly is. You have sung about Almighty God, the God who is invincible in battle, the God who provides, the God who heals, the living God, the God who rose from the dead; but until you find yourself in a real predicament, you will not know Him, you will not know Him. And if you are struggling, scheming, and trying to get your own way—“I am going to fix this”—you confess that God is your Savior, your Rescuer, but you keep on struggling. Then the Lord, in His fatherly love, takes hold of you and says: “Hey, son, be still. Leave that to Me. Let Me work here; leave it to Me and let Me show you My glory.”
“I hear you,” says your Redeemer. “I am coming for you.” Again, that passage in Zechariah reads: “Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion; shout for joy, daughter of Jerusalem. Behold, your King will come to you.” And up to this point we all say, “Glory to God!” But then it continues: “Righteous and having salvation, humble and riding on a donkey”—not a warhorse—“on a colt,” moreover, “the foal of a donkey.” The Lord comes in riding on the colt of a donkey: “Here I am; I have come to rescue you.”
And you do not say anything, but you look at Him a little strangely, and the Lord says, “Am I not what you expected?” “No, Lord, I expected You, You know, like in those Mexican movies, with all Your powers, and revolvers everywhere, and surrounded by cavalry. I don’t know, like the hero from The Lord of the Rings, something like that. But You couldn’t even find the mother? Did it have to be the colt?”
You know? He does not have to draw attention to Himself when He arrives. He is the King of glory—of glory. The Lord’s glory pours out of His very pores. His presence is glory enough.
He may resolve your affairs precisely as you expect Him to, or He may have another plan—a plan you may not understand, but one that will bring Him glory and lead you to understand Him much more deeply than before. What matters is that your King has arrived, your King has arrived; and God forbid that He should not find us waiting for Him.