Funeral Sermon Psalm 46

When The Earth Gives Way, God Does Not

A Funeral Sermon From Psalm 46:1-11 (Csb)

Opening

We have gathered today because someone we cared about is gone. That is the plain and honest truth of this moment. Whatever words are spoken here, whatever music has been sung, whatever flowers have been placed, the grief in this room is real. You did not come here today to pretend otherwise, and I will not ask you to.

Grief is not a failure of faith. It is the cost of love. When we love someone and they are taken from us, something inside us breaks open, and that is not weakness. That is what it means to be human. So if you are sitting here today with tears on your face or a hollow ache in your chest, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

But we have also gathered around a word that is older and stronger than our grief. We have gathered around the Word of God. And the psalm we are reading today was written for moments exactly like this one.

The Text

Psalm 46, beginning at verse one, reads this way in the Christian Standard Bible:

"God is our refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble. Therefore we will not be afraid, even if the earth trembles and the mountains topple into the depths of the seas, even if its water roars and foams and the mountains quake with its turmoil."

The psalmist is not describing a calm day. He is describing the worst day imaginable. Mountains falling. Oceans roaring. The very foundations of the earth shaking loose. This is the language of total catastrophe, and the psalmist chose it deliberately. He is not writing about minor inconveniences. He is writing about the kind of moment that strips everything away and leaves you standing with nothing.

A funeral is that kind of moment.

Exposition

Notice where the psalmist begins. He does not begin with a command to stop grieving. He does not begin by telling us everything will be fine. He begins with a declaration about God. "God is our refuge and strength." That word refuge in the Hebrew carries the image of a place of shelter, a high rock you run to when the flood is rising. And the word strength here is not merely about power in the abstract. It is the kind of strength that is made available to someone who has none of their own.

In other words, the psalmist is writing for people who are exhausted and afraid. He is writing for people whose strength has run out. He is writing for people in this room today.

Verse two begins with the word "therefore." That word is doing important work. Because God is our refuge and strength, therefore we will not be afraid. The courage the psalmist describes is not the courage of someone who has no reason to fear. It is the courage of someone who has found a reason not to. There is a difference. The psalmist is not pretending the mountains are not falling. He is saying that even when they fall, God is still God.

Moving to verses four and five, the scene shifts. The psalmist describes a river whose streams bring joy to the city of God. In the middle of all that chaos and shaking, there is a place of stillness and gladness. And the reason for that stillness is stated plainly: "God is within her; she will not be toppled." The presence of God is what makes the difference. Not the absence of trouble. Not the absence of loss. The presence of God in the middle of it all.

Verse ten contains one of the most recognized lines in all of Scripture: "Stop fighting, and know that I am God." That phrase is sometimes quoted as though it were a gentle invitation to a quiet moment. But in context, it is a command spoken to a world in upheaval. It is God declaring his sovereignty over every force that threatens to undo us. Stop. Be still. Know who I am. I am God, and I have not moved.

The psalm closes in verse eleven with the same declaration it offered in verse seven: "The Lord of Armies is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress." The Lord of Armies is a title that speaks to God's absolute authority over every power in heaven and earth. And yet this same God is called the God of Jacob. Jacob was a man who wrestled with God, who failed repeatedly, who was broken and limping and still held on. The God who commands armies is also the God who stays with broken people. That is not a small thing. That is everything.

Pastoral Application

When someone we love dies, the earth gives way. That is not a metaphor. It is exactly what it feels like. The ground that felt solid and familiar shifts beneath your feet. The future you had imagined no longer exists. The voice you expected to hear is silent. And in that shaking, you need a refuge that does not shake.

The psalm does not promise that grief will be short. It does not promise that the questions will be answered. It does not explain why death comes when it does or why it takes the people it takes. What it does promise is this: God is present. God is strong. God is a refuge that the worst this world can offer cannot destroy.

For those of you here today who know Jesus Christ, who have placed your faith in him, this promise belongs to you. You can hold it with both hands. The same God who raised Jesus from the dead is the God who is with you in this room today, and he is not distant or indifferent. He is near. He is your strength when you have none.

For those of you here today who are not sure where you stand, who have come today and found yourself face to face with the reality that life is fragile and that none of us knows how much of it we have, I want to speak to you plainly and without pressure. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a set of rules to follow so that God will like you. It is the announcement that God, in his love, sent his Son to take on death itself, to die in our place, and to rise again so that death would not have the final word. That offer is open to you. Not because you have earned it, but because God is that kind of God. If today has stirred something in you, do not let it pass. Talk to someone. Open a Bible. Ask the questions you have been carrying.

Conclusion

The mountains may shake. The waters may roar. The earth beneath our feet may feel like it is giving way. But the psalm does not end in the roaring water. It ends with God. "The Lord of Armies is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress."

That is where we stand today. Not on the certainty that grief will not come. Not on the promise that loss will not find us. We stand on the certainty that God is our refuge and strength, a helper always found in times of trouble. And that is a ground that does not give way.

May God be that refuge to every person in this room today.

Sources Consulted

1. The Holy Bible, Christian Standard Bible (CSB). Nashville: Holman Bible Publishers, 2017.

2. Kidner, Derek. Psalms 1-72. Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1973.

3. Goldingay, John. Psalms, Volume 2: Psalms 42-89. Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007.

4. Spurgeon, Charles H. The Treasury of David. Vol. 2. Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 1988.

5. VanGemeren, Willem A. "Psalms." In The Expositor's Bible Commentary, Volume 5. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.

6. Craigie, Peter C. Psalms 1-50. Word Biblical Commentary. Waco: Word Books, 1983.