Last week, if you were here, we looked at Psalm 84, and the mysterious word “Selah” that appears frequently in the Psalms. I even had you say it with me, and told you that scholars were not in agreement as to it’s meaning—but probably it is some kind of liturgical or choir instruction, or (as we used it last week) a signal to take a moment to silently reflect.

Only this week did I run across Eugene Peterson’s speculation on Selah. After surveying the same scholarly confusion on the meaning of the word, Peterson offered his own conclusion:

“Lacking a clear consensus from the scholars I have felt free to offer the less scholarly but more entertaining suggestion that “Selah” is a Philistine expletive that David learned during those hard years when he was banished from Saul’s court and knocking around with ruffians and outlaws in the wilderness. He used it whenever he broke a string on his harp.” I don’t know, I usually go along with Eugene, on things…but…! I did, however, tell Kurt he was free to use “selah” if a guitar string broke this morning!

Today’s Psalm is a psalm of comfort, and it’s broken into two voices- I’m going to read the first 7 verses- clearly the voice of the Psalmist. And then skip to the last 3 verses which are God’s answering voice. Stand with me if you are able, please.

Reading: Psalm 91

Refuge. A place of shelter or protection from danger or distress.

“I will say to the Lord ‘My refuge and my fortress’” (v2).

“…you have made the Lord your refuge” (v9).

These are 2 of the 98 times in the Bible that “refuge” is used. What is a “refuge?” We know what a “wildlife refuge” is, don’t we? A space legally set aside where birds, deer, or whatever can exist without fearing that they would be hunted, at least by human beings. There are penalties for poaching or encroaching on that safety zone. A refuge is a place where you don’t have to be afraid. A refuge is a marked out place. It’s a boundaried, and protected area, a place of safety.

Safety from what? Psalm 91 takes a long time to say it, but from pretty much any kind of danger or distress. The snare of the fowler (a human trying to trap or betray you) the deadly pestilence (disease), the terror of the night (anything from demons to wild animals), the arrow that flies by day (human warare). It pretty much covers the spectrum: dangers from nature or human beings or wild animals, physical, spiritual, day, night, 24-7, you don’t have to be afraid. There’s a refuge. A place of protection.

There’s just two things I want to say about “refuge” this morning, because we have some other things we are going to do. The first is simply this: “refuge” is more than just a place, an area. Refuge is a Person. And the person is God. “I will be with them in their trouble.” Not that there is no trouble. But God stands in the midst of it with the person who trusts in Him. That is the safety. That is the reason not to fear. The fortress, the refuge, the place of safety is actually not a place. It’s a Person.

None of the fearful things listed in the Psalm can remove the refuge of God’s presence. That becomes even more clear in the New Testament. Remember what Matt read from Romans 8? “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Hardship? Distress? Persecution? Famine? Nakedness? Peril? sword?” (note: a list very similar to that in Psalm 91) No, “nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” We stand in the shelter, the shadow of the cross of Christ, safe and secure. Refuge is not in a place but a Person.

The second thing is this, that is made clear throughout the Psalm, but especially in verse 2: “You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord “MY refuge and MY fortress; MY God in whom I trust.” This is one of the things I’ve learned most from being in the Psalms again- It’s so very personal.

It’s one thing to pray “God is a refuge, God is a fortress.” It’s theologically and biblically sound, it makes a grand statement about the character and activity of God, it’s descriptive. But it’s an entirely different thing to say “MY refuge and MY fortress and MY God.” This is a step, a step of faith that many people never make. They might generally and generically acknowledge the existence of God, some facts about God, some information about God, but not know God.

It changes everything. Even living with our doubts and our complaints. It’s one thing to say “I have a problem with a god who allows pain and suffering.” It’s another thing entirely to say “God, why do You allow pain and suffering?” It’s not an idea, it’s living in tension with the God of the universe.

Maybe you came here today thinking you’d get some good information. Well, sure, maybe that happens. But I think we’re here to be with God. The comfort of this Psalm, often used by people in difficult situations, is not that it provides every answer, but that it repeatedly reassures us of God’s involvement, hand, rescue, presence in our lives.

I think I’ve told you this story once before, but I can’t read Psalm 91 without thinking of Agnes. I met her in 1996 in Minneapolis, the first year I was an ordained pastor.

Agnes was the first hospital visit I ever made there. She was 90 years old, I had never met her, and she was in the hospital with a bout of pneumonia. She had a (well-deserved) reputation for being a little feisty. And she was, but sharp as a tack. I showed up at her room, and she looked me up and down and said cooly “So you’re the new pastor” She loved to banter with me. “You know, I’m not too religious.” “Good, neither am I.”

Before I left her room that day, I asked if I could read some scripture. Earlier that morning in my own quiet time I’d read this Psalm, Psalm 91, so it was fresh in my mind. I started to read:

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,

who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,

will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;

my God in whom I trust.”

I took a long breath and snuck a quick glance at Agnes. She lay in rapt attention in her bed, apparently listening intensely. Encouraged, I kept reading:

For He will deliver you…

you will not fear the terror of the night,

or the arrow that flies by day.

My next glance at Agnes revealed that she held the same intent posture, but her eyes were now closed. Well, if you’re ninety years old, I guess you ought to be able to nap whenever you choose. A little disappointed, I continued on.

A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

This time I looked up in mid-verse, and realized with a jolt that though her eyes remained closed, Agnes was now mouthing each and every word as I read. She obviously had every word solidly memorized. I was a bit unnerved –and thankful I hadn’t skipped any verses. I read on. Somewhere around “I will protect those who know my name. When they call to me, I will answer them,” tears began to run freely down Agnes’ cheeks. When I was done, there was a long silence. Then I asked, “Agnes, will you tell me what touched you in this Psalm?”

It seems that when Agnes was twelve years old, her family lived in a tiny apartment. There was a man who lived upstairs that had become a close family friend, almost an uncle to Agnes and her siblings. On the day of her twelfth birthday, the “uncle” had pulled her aside and given her an unusual gift. “Agnes,” he said, “I am “giving” you a Psalm from the Bible. It is to be your special Psalm, Psalm 91. I want you to read it or say it every morning after you wake up, and every evening before bed.”

That is exactly what Agnes had done, for over 78 years. Morning and evening. She knew that Psalm inside and out, it was part of her. Psalm 91 belonged to Agnes. And even though she “wasn’t very religious,” somehow in that Psalm Agnes was in God’s refuge, she drew close to this God who was very, very personal.

With long life I will satisfy them,

and show them my salvation.

Refuge…is A Person. And intensely Personal.

What Agnes found in Psalm 91 was great comfort. She was in a hard place. This morning I’m asking Maxine and Gary Talbert if they would come forward and share with us about being in a hard place, and where God is meeting them there.