Psalms 112:7

He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.

Heartsease

Those who have laid hold on Christ Jesus, and are resting in the Father’s love and power, have no reason to be disquieted: should all hell be unmuzzled, and all earth be unhinged, they may rejoice with a joy undamped by carnal fear or earthly sorrow.

I. Evil tidings may come to the best of men--to those whoso hearts are fixed and are trusting in the Lord.

1. Let us remember the frail tenure upon which we hold our temporal mercies: how soon may evil tidings come concerning them. We rightly class our families first in our possessions. Our dear relations are but loaned to us, and the hour when we must return them to the lender’s hand may be even at the door. The like is certainly true of our worldly goods. Do not riches take to themselves wings and fly away? And though we have heard some almost profanely say that they have clipped the wings of their riches, so that they cannot fly, yet may the bird of prey rend them where they are, and the rotting carcase of the wealth which the owners cannot enjoy, may be a perpetual curse to them. Full often gold and silver canker in the coffer, and fret the soul of their claimant. This world at best is but a sandy foundation, and the wisest builder may well look for an end to the most substantial of its erections. Evil tidings may also come to us in another respect: we may suddenly find our health decay. That strength which now enables us to perform our daily business with delight, may so fail us that the slightest exertion may cause us pain. Certain expositors refer this passage to slander and reproach, and they translate it, “ He shall not be afraid of evil hearing.” It is one of the sharpest trials of the Christian’s life to be misunderstood, misrepresented, and belied. The more prominent you are in Christ’s service, the more certain are you to be the butt of calumny. In all these things, however, we ought to expect evil tidings.

2. Evil tidings will also come to us concerning spiritual matters, and babes in grace will be greatly alarmed. Every now and then there cometh a messenger with breathless haste, who tells us that the sages have discovered that the Bible is a fiction. But the religion of Jesus is so full of life, that her deadliest foes cannot make an end of her. We hear also at times that professors have fallen. Moreover, Satan will tell us that we are hypocrites, and conscience will remind us of sundry things which raise the suspicion that we are not soundly regenerated.

3. Moreover, the evil tidings of death will soon be brought to you by the appointed messenger The message will be given to us, “The Master is come, and calleth for thee.”

II A Christian at no time ought to fear either in expectation of evil tidings, or when the tidings actually arrive. And why?

1. Because, if you be troubled, and distracted, what do you more than other men? Where is the dignity of that new nature which you claim to possess?

2. Again, if you should be filled with alarm, as others are, you would, doubtless, be led into the sins so common to others under trying circumstances. The ungodly, when they are overtaken by evil tidings, rebel against God; they murmur, and think that God deals hardly with them. Will you fall into that same sin? Will you provoke the Lord, as they do?

3. Further, you must not give way to these doubts and alarms and fears, for, if you do, you will be unfit to meet the trouble.

4. If you give way to fright and fear when you hear of evil tidings, how can you glorify God?

III. Fixedness of heart is the true cure for being alarmed at evil tidings.

1. The Christian’s heart is fixed as to duty. He says within himself, “It is my business so to walk as Christ also walked: it can never be right for me to do contrary to God’s will. I have set the Lord always before me, and in integrity of heart will I walk all my way, wherever that way may lead.” Such a man is prepared for anything.

2. But, more comfortable than this, the Christian’s heart is fixed as to knowledge and so prepared, he knows, for instance, that God sits in the stern-sheets of the vessel when it rocks most. He knows, too, that God is always wise, and, knowing this, he is prepared for all events. They cannot come amiss, saith he, there can be no accidents, no mistakes, nothing can occur which ought not to occur.

3. Further, there is the fixedness of resignation. When we gave ourselves to Christ, we gave Him our person, our estate, our friends, and everything. It is a good thing every morning to give all up to God, and then to live through the day, and thank Him for renewing the daily lease.

4. Better still, let me remind you of one form of fixedness which will make you outride every storm, namely, fixedness as to eternal things. “I cannot lose”--the Christian may say--“I cannot lose my best things.”

5. I believe that holy gratitude is one blessed way of fixing the soul on God and preparing it for trouble.

IV. The great instrument of fixedness of heart is faith in God. “His heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.” You see that we have come hither by progressive steps. Evil tidings may come to an heir of heaven; he ought not to be afraid of them; the way to be prepared for them is to have the heart fixed and prepared, and the method of having the heart fixed is confident trustfulness in the Lord. God is never away from any of His children, but He is nearest to those who are the most sad, and sick, and troubled. If there be one sheep in the fold that is more watched over than the rest, it is the weakest sheep. “He carrieth the lambs in His bosom, and gently leadeth those that are with young.” (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Trust in God the best antidote against fear

1. The truster in the Lord shall not be afraid of tidings of wrath and condemnation from the law of God.

2. The truster in God shall not be afraid of sin’s recovering its dominion over him.

3. The truster in the Lord of hosts shall not be afraid of tidings of calamity to the Church of God.

4. The truster in God shall not be afraid to hear of public national disasters.

5. The truster in the Lord shall not be afraid of tidings of persecution for the sake of Christ.

6. The truster in the Lord shall not be afraid of the tidings of arduous duties, to which he finds himself altogether unequal.

7. The truster in the Lord shall not be afraid of tidings of personal worldly losses and afflictions.

8. The fixed truster in the Lord shall not be afraid of the evil tidings of his own death.

9. The fixed truster in God shall not be afraid of tidings of judgment.

Learn--

1. That fearful doubts and apprehensions are no part of the character of a Christian.

2. The true principle of a steady and upright practice, namely, trust in God.

3. The reason why God often makes His people to hear evil tidings; and that is, to try their trust in Him.

4. What unhappy persons are believers! If the truster in God is afraid of no evil tidings, they have reason to be afraid of everything; for the wrath of God abideth on them, and His wrath is comprehensive of all evil, both in this world and that which is to come. (A. Swanston.)

The unreasonableness of fear in the Christian

1. The anxiety of the Christian partakes of the unreasoning terror of childhood. The nervousness of little children is often extreme. What agonies of suspense! what excruciating listening! what cold sweats the little ones suffer when alone in the darkness! But, growing older, we discover how groundless and foolish this childish terror was, and that all the suffering which arose out of it was absolutely needless. In the dark night, when we were almost paralyzed by fear, how a father’s or mother’s reassuring voice scattered the ghosts, and once more restored to us sweet sleep! Shall it not be thus again as we listen to the voice of the Heavenly Father? Carlyle considers “that the extent to which we have put fear under our feet is a good measure of manhood”; and it is certainly a sign of the reality and growth of the spiritual life that we walk with increasing confidence.

2. The fear of the Christian partakes of the unreasonableness of the terror of the savage. Ignorant of the laws which govern the system of nature, the savage is the victim of the wildest and most distressing fancies. The storm, the eclipse, the lightning and thunder inspire him with boundless terror, because he interprets them by an arbitrary and gloomy imagination. But it is entirely different with the educated European. He has come to understand the great and beautiful laws which regulate the movements of earth and sky and sea; and with perfect confidence and satisfaction, with entire admiration and delight the astronomer and meteorologist look upon the very phenomena which occasion the savage the ghastliest terror--the vast horror of the untutored mind gives place in the breast of the philosopher to a rational confidence. The anxiety of the Christian has its origin in a defective faith in the Divine government of the world, and is so far kindred with the fear of the superstitious heathen. When we once believe in our very heart that God rules, that He rules well, and that He rules perfectly for the individual as for the universe at large, we regard disturbing events with serene confidence and hopefulness; but how slowly we come to understand and rest in this wise and loving sovereignty!

3. The fear of the Christian partakes of the unreasoning alarm and anxiety that we sometimes perceive in the brute. A bit of vapour from a passing engine will create a panic in a flock of sheep or herd of cattle; they fly panting before the empty whiff of steam as if it were a wolf or leopard. Are not we equally absurd? We are haunted by imaginary fears, we are alarmed beyond expression by baseless imaginations, we see dark omens in things and events which do not and which cannot harm us. Most of us have sniffed ruin in bits of vapour, and suffered martyrdoms in frantic efforts to escape them. How much wiser it would have been to repose and feed in the green pastures into which the faithful Shepherd leads us! And we habitually give way to a causeless and useless anxiety about the things of life which is entirely irrational. The beavers at the London Zoological Gardens are fed every day and have nothing to fear from the weather, but their old instincts are strong, and they make a fussy show of storage against the winter; and the few branches which are given them only in make believe they engineer with the greatest industry and ingenuity; everything is really done by their keepers for their protection and provision, but they are unconscious of it all, and in a feeble way they store and build as if they were in the wilds and everything depended upon their forethought and toil. How much is this like our gratuitous and abortive anxiety in relation to the government of God! (Anon.)

Not afraid of evil tidings

An eminent divine, eccentric but honest, said pleasantly and religiously that he was never afraid to open his letter bag. He was in full possession, we may conclude, of the “mens conscia recti,” the upright consciousness. He lived, as he himself expressed it, with all his windows constantly wide open, that is, the world was ever welcome to fasten the prying inquisitive corner of its evil eye upon him and all his doings. Living thus honestly, as in the day, he had nought to fear from messenger or letter bag. He opened his daily letters fearlessly. That expression of Sydney Smith’s was a familiar version of our text. It expresses the enviable calm of an honest and good heart. The first who feared was Adam. Guilt caused his fear. “I heard Thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid!” “Why?” “I was naked. My soul in its disobedience was exposed to the all-seeing Eye. I was uncovered of the robe of duty and obedience, and I dreaded punishment. I feared my physician’s face.” All along the pages of history runs a stream of like fear. Poor old Jacob, waiting his sons’ second return from Egypt. The trembling mother, watching and awaiting the fate of her bulrush ark. David, lying upon the earth and listening with strained ear, to every faint whisper of the servants, as they spoke of his guilt-born child. Felix, wondering as he listened to each round period, how near and nearer judgment was coming. All these are examples of human nature afraid of evil tidings. But trusting in the Lord God, we need fear no evil, and no tidings of evil. The black seal will then only mean, “here is another messenger to tell me my own time draws near.” The consumption, and the growing weakness, and all the other heralds of death will find us prepared with the utterance, “O God, my heart is fixed, my heart is fixed, I will even sing and give praise.” The little harmless speculation, the haps of the regiment, the delay of the ship, the story about the son or daughter, the witness to our misdeed, the enemy, the slanderer, the possible danger, the probable affliction--all, everything, whatever betide, whatever befall, whatever may threaten--can then only bring out the calm declaration, “My heart is fixed--O God, Thou knowest my heart is fixed, trusting in Thee.” There have been men, and women too, who have read with brave solemnity their own warrant of death; over whom the glittering axe has had no terrors, the fire and fagot no unworthy influence. Their heart has been fixed. Of all which this is the point. See that we have our hearts fixed upon God, our feet upon the Rock of Ages, our house built firmly, our sin’s penalty transferred surely. Then we need fear no evil tidings. (S. B. James, M.A.)

Established on God

Here is a most remarkable type of man--quite out of the line of our every-day experience. One is impelled to look back at the earlier verses of the psalm to see who “he” may be! Not afraid of evil tidings! quite a unique person, then--calm as he scans the startling telegram, serene and composed while he reads the black-edged sheet! There is a moral dignity in a character which is not easily shaken and swayed to and fro by every wind of circumstance; we would all like to be possessed of a character firmly rooted, established; therefore the text ought to have an interest for us all. In writing “evil tidings” the psalmist was thinking of what we commonly call bad news, and to enter into his meaning it is necessary to realize the world’s bad news. How much there is! The world seems full of it; so full, indeed, that the glad news of God--the good news of the kingdom of heaven--is often unheeded for this cause alone. The world’s bad news reaches us in many ways. We read it on placards and newspaper headlines. A “Stella” goes down, an express train is wrecked, a mine is flooded, or the first shot is fired and a bloody war begins! These are the common “evil tidings” of the world. We can all most fervently join in that petition of the Litany--“From lightning and tempest; from plague, pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death, good Lord, deliver us!” Now, I want rather to direct your thoughts to the man who is not afraid of the world’s bad news even at its worst. “He shall not be afraid of any evil tidings.” Who is he? In the Biblical examples and teachings about the righteous man, there is a moral grandeur and dignity unsurpassed in the literatures of the world. Where else in the realm of literature should we go--even if we were not Christians--to find a more exalted and dignified description of man at his best? In the far Eastern literatures of China and India we can easily find sages, dreamers, and adepts of occult philosophy. In Greek literature we meet with heroes, poets, and philosophers in abundance. In Roman literature there is no lack of soldiers, statesmen, and lawgivers; and there are stories among them all of men who knew how to endure the extremity of suffering without making any sign of despair. But the Hebrew literature of the Old Testament flowers in the portraiture of the righteous man. For the moment we may omit any reference to the New Testament as outside the region of mere literary comparison. In reviewing these facts the question naturally arises, Why is the righteous man the flower of Hebrew literature? And the answer is inevitable: Because the Hebrew Bible is the product of men who had a sense of God, the holy and just One, the eternally righteous One! The righteous man is rooted on the rock; that is, the roots of his faith are closely entwined round the central rock of the universe--“the Rock of Ages.” “His heart is fixed, standeth fast, trusting in the Lord.” The most modern of the world’s mystics, Maurice Maeterlinck, seems to have entered deeply into the meaning of our text. In his latest book he asks the question, “Is the sage never to suffer?” And when Maeterlinck writes “sage” he means the good, the truly wise man. “Is the sago never to suffer?” he asks. “Shall no storm ever break on the roof of his dwelling, no traps be laid to ensnare him? Shall wife and friends never fail him? Must his father not die, and his mother, his brothers, his sons--must all these not die like the rest?” And to his own questions Maeterlinck answers, “ Needs must the sage (or good man) like his neighbour be startled from sleep by blows at the door that cause the whole house to tremble. He, too, must go down and parley. But yet, as he listens, his eyes are not fixed on the bringer of evil tidings; his glance will at times be lifted over the messenger’s shoulder, will scan the dust on the horizon in search of the mighty Idea that perhaps may be near at hand.” Could we find a better commentary on our text? In this spirit--old as Abraham, yet new-born to-day--we can face all the events of the coming time, and

“Greet the Unseen with a cheer!”

No doubt the Messenger of Sorrow will knock at all our doors, for it is not his custom to pass any by; but while we listen to his message we can lift our glance over his shoulder, and seeing Jesus, who has overcome the world, we call “be of good cheer” and say, “Whatever thy news may be, there shall no evil befall us, for our heart standeth fast and trusteth in the Lord.” (A. E. Hooper.)

The fixed compass

The pattern saint of this psalm is happy as well as holy. Evil tidings, when they come, will pierce a good man’s heart; but in two things he has an advantage over those who know not God: first, he is not kept in terror before the time by the anticipation of possible calamity; and next, even when calamity overtakes him, he does not look upon it in blank despair. He knows that it is the chastening of a Father, and is sure that love is wielding the rod. “His heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.” This man has a solidity and an independence which others never know. His heart is fixed. It is something to have one’s mind made up and settled. No man can be happy as long as he does not know his own mind--does not know what he would be at. On the contrary, “if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.” To have an object in view, and to go straight at it, constitutes in a great measure the difference between a useful and a wasted life. We obtain here an interesting glimpse of the true relation in which the children stand to our Father in heaven. It is a matter of the heart, more than even of the intellect. True religion is not a matter into which a man is driven against his will; it is a matter that he seeks with desire, as the hart panteth for the water-brooks. The heart goes to God; the desires of the new nature flow out in that direction: “Nearer to Thee, my God; nearer to Thee.” And then, when you come nigh in the covenant, God is not a terror, but a trust. The magnet of the ship’s compass is in this aspect very like a godly man in the course of his earthly pilgrimage. The magnet on the sea and the believing soul in this life are firmly fixed on one side, and hang loose on the other. Both alike are fastened mysteriously to the distant and unseen, but are slack and easily moved in all their material settings. Precisely because they are unattached beneath, they are free to keep by their hold on high; and precisely because of their hold on high, they do not turn round with every movement of their material supports. (W. Arnot, D.D.)