YEAR 3, WEEK 36, Day 19, Sunday, 6 September 2026

https://literalword.com/esv?q=Psalm+140;+Ezekiel+3

Observations from today’s readings and today’s S-WOD, Sunday, 6 September 2026:

Psalm 140:1-3 — Deliver me, O LORD, from evil men; preserve me from violent men, who plan evil things in their heart and stir up wars continually. They make their tongue sharp as a serpent’s, and under their lips is the venom of asps! Selah

David begins without pretending that everyone is basically well-intentioned. There really are people who deliberately plan evil, stir up conflict, manipulate others, and use words to wound and destroy. Their violence begins “in their heart” before appearing through their actions and speech. Jesus taught the same truth: “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34). The poisonous tongue reveals a poisoned heart.

Paul later quotes this psalm while describing the universal corruption of humanity: “The venom of asps is under their lips” (Romans 3:13). It is easy to read Psalm 140 thinking only about the evil people from whom we need protection. Scripture eventually turns the mirror toward us. Apart from grace, the same sinful nature resides in every human heart. We may not plot violence against another person, but anger, slander, gossip, manipulation, resentment, and the desire to win at another’s expense grow from the same fallen soil. Any lack of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, self-control, gratitude, and hope reveals a lack of faith in and faithfulness to the Lord. There are no grace graduates.

This is why merely identifying evil in other people can never be the final Christian application. We need both deliverance from the evil around us and deliverance from the evil within us. Jesus came to accomplish both. At the cross, the perfectly righteous One was surrounded by violent men, falsely accused, mocked, and condemned, yet “when he was reviled, he did not revile in return” but entrusted Himself to the Father who judges justly (1 Peter 2:23). He then bore the judgment deserved by sinners so that those who trust Him might receive new hearts and increasingly become like Him.

David therefore teaches us to take evil to God rather than becoming like the evil we oppose. Proverbs warns against inserting ourselves unnecessarily into another person’s quarrel and against the destructive power of deceitful speech (Proverbs 26:17-28). When confronted by hostility, our first response should not be retaliation, counterattack, gossip, or manipulation. It should be prayer. Am I bringing those who hurt or oppose me before God, or am I allowing their sin to produce the same kind of sin in me?

Psalm 140:4-5 — Guard me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked; preserve me from violent men, who have planned to trip up my feet. The arrogant have hidden a trap for me, and with cords they have spread a net; beside the way they have set snares for me. Selah

David’s enemies are not merely attacking openly; they are setting traps. The imagery reminds us that evil often works indirectly. Temptation itself operates this way. Satan rarely advertises the destruction at the end of the path. He presents the bait while hiding the hook.

David therefore asks God not only to defeat his enemies but to “guard” his steps. That is an important distinction. Sometimes our greatest need is not for God immediately to remove difficult people or circumstances, but to preserve us from stumbling because of them. Another person’s sin can become Satan’s opportunity to tempt us into anger, bitterness, fear, pride, compromise, or revenge.

Jesus taught His disciples to pray, “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil” (Matthew 6:13). Our security is not found in believing we are clever enough to recognize every trap. It is found in abiding in Christ, walking by the Spirit, and remaining dependent upon the Father. The Christian life is not self-sufficient vigilance but dependent vigilance.

Psalm 140:6-8 — I say to the LORD, You are my God; give ear to the voice of my pleas for mercy, O LORD! O LORD, my Lord, the strength of my salvation, you have covered my head in the day of battle. Grant not, O LORD, the desires of the wicked; do not further their evil plot, or they will be exalted! Selah

David moves from describing his enemies to declaring who God is: “You are my God.” That changes everything. The decisive reality in David’s circumstances is not the number, determination, or cunning of his enemies but his relationship with the sovereign Lord.

“You have covered my head in the day of battle.” David remembers what God has already done. Past grace becomes evidence for present trust. The God who protected him yesterday has not changed today. Biblical faith repeatedly looks backward in order to move forward. Israel remembered the Exodus; David remembered the lion, the bear, and Goliath; Christians remember the cross and empty tomb. “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all” can certainly be trusted with everything we face today (Romans 8:32).

Yet notice that David still prays. Confidence in God’s sovereignty does not produce passivity. Because God rules, David asks Him to act. Prayer is one expression of resting in God’s sovereignty, not an alternative to it.

This is particularly important “in the day of battle.” Paul tells believers to put on “the whole armor of God” because our ultimate struggle is spiritual (Ephesians 6:10-18). Christ does not promise His followers freedom from conflict. He promises His presence within it. The question is not whether we will encounter battles, but whether we will fight them in dependence upon Christ or in the strength of the flesh.

Psalm 140:9-11 — As for the head of those who surround me, let the mischief of their lips overwhelm them! Let burning coals fall upon them! Let them be cast into fire, into miry pits, no more to rise! Let not the slanderer be established in the land; let evil hunt down the violent man speedily!

These are difficult words, especially when read beside Jesus’ command to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). But David is doing something important: he is placing judgment into God’s hands rather than taking vengeance into his own. He is asking the righteous Judge to stop evil.

The New Testament does not eliminate the longing for justice. It deepens our understanding of who has the authority to execute it. Paul commands, “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God,” because vengeance belongs to the Lord (Romans 12:19). Immediately afterward he commands believers to feed a hungry enemy and give drink to a thirsty one (Romans 12:20). We may pray that God restrains wickedness, exposes lies, protects victims, brings oppressors to justice, and causes evil plans to fail while simultaneously praying that our enemies repent and receive the same mercy we received in Christ.

“Let evil hunt down the violent man” expresses a principle Scripture repeatedly confirms: eventually sin catches up with the sinner. A person may temporarily prosper through deception, slander, violence, or manipulation, but no one finally escapes God. “Whatever one sows, that will he also reap” (Galatians 6:7).

Yet the Gospel should make us tremble before merely celebrating that truth. If God gave each of us only what our sins deserved, none could stand. At Calvary, Christ willingly received the judgment our evil deserved so that sinners who repent and believe might be reconciled to God. The cross simultaneously assures us that God takes evil infinitely seriously and that He offers astonishing mercy to evil people, including us.

The paradox of the cross therefore becomes part of the paradox of the Gospel-centered life we now live in Christ. The God of perfect justice Himself satisfied the demands of justice through the blood of His Son, because He desires that sinners should not perish but turn to Him and receive eternal life (2 Peter 3:9; John 3:16). God did not accomplish reconciliation by overlooking sin but by paying its terrible price Himself. That same heart should increasingly become ours through union with Christ. We may rightly desire God to bring justice into broken circumstances and relationships, while at the same time desperately praying for those who persecute us, longing for their repentance, salvation, and reconciliation with God. We seek justice without surrendering God’s heart for the sinner.

That is especially challenging in a world where “justice” can easily become respectable language for getting even. The Gospel calls us beyond retribution to forgiveness. Forgiveness is a kind of forward giving: rather than remaining imprisoned by past injury or present brokenness, we surrender our personal claim to vengeance and move forward in hope that God may yet bring repentance, healing, and reconciliation. This does not mean pretending evil did not happen, removing appropriate consequences, or abandoning the pursuit of justice. It means refusing to let another person’s sin determine the condition of our own heart.

Jesus said that following Him requires denying ourselves, taking up our cross daily, and following Him (Luke 9:23). Nowhere may that self-denial become more costly than when we have genuinely been wronged. The flesh calculates what the offender deserves; Christ leads us to seek even our offender’s ultimate good. We remember that the grace we extend may cost us something, but infinitely less than the grace extended to us cost Christ. We forgive people who do not deserve forgiveness because we live every day by mercy we never deserved ourselves. Our willingness to forgive while still entrusting justice to God is therefore one evidence of genuine fellowship with Jesus, who from the cross prayed for those crucifying Him (Luke 23:34). When I am offended, what rises most naturally within me — vengeance or mercy, bitterness or prayer, the desire to make someone pay or the desire that they be reconciled to God? And what does that response reveal about how deeply I am living Christ’s command to love God and love others?
Psalm 140:12-13 — I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and will execute justice for the needy. Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name; the upright shall dwell in your presence.

David began, “Deliver me,” but ends with, “I know.” Prayer has redirected his attention from the apparent power of evil to the certain character of God. The Lord sees the afflicted, defends the helpless, and will ultimately establish justice. Evil may appear to win temporarily, but it cannot write the final chapter.

Yet David’s greatest expectation is not merely that his enemies will disappear. “The upright shall dwell in your presence.” This is the destination toward which Scripture continually moves. The greatest blessing God gives His people is God Himself. Jesus died “that he might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18), and Revelation ends with God dwelling with His redeemed people and His servants seeing His face (Revelation 21:3; 22:3-4).

That changes what deliverance means. We naturally want God to remove whatever threatens our peace. God’s greater purpose is to draw us more deeply into Himself and make us like Christ even while difficulties remain. The Christian’s confidence is ultimately not that nothing painful will happen, but that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:35-39). Is my greatest desire simply for God to change my circumstances, or for my circumstances to drive me deeper into His presence?

Ezekiel 3:1-3 — And he said to me, “Son of man, eat whatever you find here. Eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and he gave me this scroll to eat. And he said to me, “Son of man, feed your belly with this scroll that I give you and fill your stomach with it.” Then I ate it, and it was in my mouth as sweet as honey.

Chapter 3 continues exactly where chapter 2 ended. Ezekiel cannot simply carry God’s message; he must consume it. God’s Word must enter him before it comes through him. What he will proclaim publicly must first transform him privately.

This is more than acquiring biblical information. God tells him to “feed” on the scroll and “fill” himself with it. Scripture is meant to penetrate our thinking, desires, priorities, reactions, and behavior. The psalmist similarly says that God’s words are “sweeter than honey” (Psalm 119:103), while Jeremiah testified, “Your words were found, and I ate them” (Jeremiah 15:16).

As we saw in Ezekiel 2, this imagery finds an even richer fulfillment when we come to Christ. Jesus is the Word made flesh and the Bread of Life (John 1:14; 6:35). At the Last Supper He gave His disciples bread and the cup as signs of His body given and His blood poured out for them (Luke 22:19-20). Ezekiel’s scroll is not a prediction of the Lord’s Supper, but both images remind us that God’s truth is not intended merely to remain external to us. Through faith we receive Christ Himself, and through the Spirit and the Word His life increasingly shapes ours.

As mentioned previously (but worth repeating), there is truth in the familiar saying, “You are what you eat.” Through the Gospel we become new creations in Christ, united with Him so deeply that Paul could say, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20; 2 Corinthians 5:17). Jesus prayed that His people would share this extraordinary union: “I in them and you in me” (John 17:23). As we abide in Christ and His words abide in us, the Spirit increasingly conforms us to His image (John 15:4-7; Romans 8:29). Before we can faithfully speak Christ to the world, Christ must increasingly be seen in us. John said Jesus was the embodiment of the word as the Word, and we too much become the embodiment of His word, of the Word, Jesus.

Ezekiel 3:4-7 — And he said to me, “Son of man, go to the house of Israel and speak with my words to them…. But the house of Israel will not be willing to listen to you, for they are not willing to listen to me: because all the house of Israel have a hard forehead and a stubborn heart.”

Ezekiel’s greatest obstacle will not be communication but rebellion. He is speaking the right language to people who can understand his words perfectly well. Their problem is that they do not want to hear them.

Jesus repeatedly encountered the same response. “The light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil” (John 3:19). Our deepest spiritual problem is not lack of information. Sin bends the heart away from God. We need more than better arguments; we need new birth.

This also explains why faithful proclamation does not guarantee a favorable response. God explicitly tells Ezekiel that many will reject his message before he begins. Ezekiel’s success therefore cannot be measured by popularity, applause, or visible results. His responsibility is faithfulness.

The same is true for Christ’s ambassadors. We are entrusted with “the message of reconciliation” and sent into the world on Christ’s behalf (2 Corinthians 5:19-20). We naturally want people to respond positively, and love should make us deeply desire their salvation, but obedience cannot depend upon their anticipated reaction. We represent Jesus, not the current version of morality, and we cannot edit His message according to what an audience is willing to hear.

Ezekiel 3:8-11 — “Behold, I have made your face as hard as their faces, and your forehead as hard as their foreheads. Like emery harder than flint have I made your forehead. Fear them not, nor be dismayed at their looks…. Son of man, all my words that I shall speak to you receive in your heart, and hear with your ears…. speak to them and say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord GOD,’ whether they hear or refuse to hear.”

God does not promise Ezekiel an easier audience. He strengthens Ezekiel for the audience He has given him.

There is an enormous difference between spiritual courage and human stubbornness. Israel is stubborn against God; Ezekiel must become steadfast for God. One comes from pride, the other from dependence. God is not telling Ezekiel to become abrasive, combative, or insensitive. He is making him resistant to the fear of man.

“Fear them not.” How much Christian silence begins precisely here? We anticipate rejection, embarrassment, damaged relationships, accusations of intolerance, or simply an uncomfortable conversation, and therefore say nothing. We can disguise fear as sensitivity and call avoidance peace. But biblical peacemaking is not merely keeping everyone comfortable. Christ’s ambassadors have been given the ministry of reconciliation — calling people to be reconciled to God through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:18-20).

There is a difference between being a peacemaker and simply being peaceable in the sense of avoiding conflict at any cost. Jesus was perfectly loving and yet frequently spoke truths that offended those determined to resist God. John the Baptist lost his life after confronting Herod’s sexual sin (Mark 6:17-29). Paul was beaten, threatened, imprisoned, and rejected, yet continued proclaiming Christ because some would hear and believe.

But Ezekiel must first “receive in your heart” the words he will proclaim. This guards us from becoming people who wield Scripture against others while remaining untouched by it ourselves. We must know God’s Word in order to share God’s Word, but we must also live under the authority of the Word we proclaim. Truth without Christlike character easily becomes harshness; claimed love without truth becomes sentimentality. Christ embodies both grace and truth (John 1:14), and His ambassadors must increasingly reflect both.

Am I reluctant to speak biblical truth because love requires patience and wisdom, or because I am afraid of what someone may think of me? And when I do speak truth, does my manner resemble Jesus?

Ezekiel 3:12-15 — Then the Spirit lifted me up…. The Spirit lifted me up and took me away, and I went in bitterness in the heat of my spirit, the hand of the LORD being strong upon me…. And I sat there overwhelmed among them seven days.

Ezekiel obeys, but he does not go casually. He is carried by the Spirit while “the hand of the LORD” is strong upon him, yet he also goes “in bitterness in the heat of my spirit.” God’s servants can be obedient while simultaneously feeling the enormous emotional weight of what God has called them to do.

Then Ezekiel does something remarkably important: “I sat where they sat.” Before speaking, he spends seven days among the exiles, overwhelmed by what he sees.

There is a lesson here for anyone entrusted with truth. Faithful proclamation is not detached from compassion. We should never speak casually about judgment, sin, suffering, or hell. Jesus wept over Jerusalem even as He pronounced judgment upon it (Luke 19:41-44). Paul spoke of “great sorrow and unceasing anguish” for unbelieving Israel (Romans 9:2). Truth becomes distorted when we enjoy condemning the people we are supposed to love.

Christ did infinitely more than sit where we sit. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). He entered our suffering, experienced temptation without sin, bore our griefs, and ultimately took our sins upon Himself. The Gospel produces ambassadors who do not shout truth safely from a distance but enter people’s lives with compassion, patience, and love.

Ezekiel 3:16-19 — And at the end of seven days, the word of the LORD came to me: “Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me. If I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely die,’ and you give him no warning… that wicked person shall die for his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. But if you warn the wicked… you will have delivered your soul.”

The watchman had one fundamental responsibility: see the danger and sound the warning. He could not control whether people listened, but he could not remain silent.

That distinction is essential. Ezekiel is responsible for proclamation, not conversion. Only God can change a heart. Likewise, Christians cannot argue, manipulate, pressure, or engineer anyone into the kingdom of God. The Spirit gives new birth (John 3:5-8). Our responsibility is faithfully to bear witness to Christ and proclaim the Gospel.

Yet that does not make our responsibility small. If danger is real, silence is not love. Proverbs commands, “Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter,” and warns against pretending not to know when God knows the heart (Proverbs 24:11-12). Jesus has entrusted His church with the Great Commission: make disciples, baptize them, and teach them “to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20). Evangelism that never speaks of repentance is incomplete, and discipleship that never calls believers to obedience turns grace into something Jesus never taught.

Still, the manner matters. Peter commands believers to give an answer with “gentleness and respect”; Paul calls us to humility, gentleness, patience, and love; James describes heavenly wisdom as “peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits” (1 Peter 3:15; Ephesians 4:2; James 3:17). Courage and gentleness are not opposites. Both are characteristics of Christ.

Ezekiel 3:20-21 — “Again, if a righteous person turns from his righteousness and commits injustice…. because you have not warned him, he shall die for his sin…. But if you warn the righteous person not to sin, and he does not sin, he shall surely live….”

The watchman’s responsibility extends beyond warning obviously wicked people. God’s people themselves need warning. Spiritual drift is real, and yesterday’s obedience is never permission for today’s rebellion.

We must read this within Ezekiel’s covenant setting rather than importing every detail directly into New Testament teaching about justification. Our righteousness before God does not rest upon maintaining a sufficient record of good behavior. The Gospel announces that sinners are justified by grace through faith in Christ and clothed in His righteousness (Romans 3:21-26; Philippians 3:9).

But grace never makes continued sin irrelevant. The Christ who justifies also transforms. Scripture repeatedly warns against a profession of faith that produces no corresponding fruit. Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15), not because obedience purchases salvation but because union with Christ produces a changed life. The Spirit progressively conforms those who belong to Christ to His image.

This is why Christian community requires more than encouragement. Love sometimes warns. “Exhort one another every day” so that none may be “hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3:13). We need brothers and sisters willing to encourage us when discouraged, correct us when drifting, and point us back to Christ when sin begins deceiving us.

Do I love people enough to tell them truth they may not want to hear? And am I humble enough to receive that same truth when God sends someone to warn me?

Ezekiel 3:22-27 — And the hand of the LORD was upon me there…. Then the Spirit entered into me and set me on my feet…. “And I will make your tongue cling to the roof of your mouth, so that you shall be mute…. But when I speak with you, I will open your mouth, and you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord GOD.’ He who will hear, let him hear; and he who will refuse to hear, let him refuse….”

Ezekiel has just been commanded to speak, and now God makes him silent. The apparent contradiction teaches him something essential: being commissioned to speak for God does not give him permission to say whatever he wants whenever he wants. His mouth belongs to God.

“When I speak with you, I will open your mouth.” Ezekiel must learn both courageous speech and disciplined silence. God’s ambassador does not substitute personal opinion, cultural fashion, political ideology, common sense, or even clever religious ideas for God’s revealed truth. He speaks because God has spoken.

Jesus repeatedly used similar words: “He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15). Jesus Himself modeled perfect dependence upon the Father, saying, “I do nothing on my own authority, but speak just as the Father taught me” (John 8:28). If the sinless Son spoke in complete submission to His Father, how much more carefully should His ambassadors guard their words?

The Spirit who entered Ezekiel and set him upon his feet also reminds us that God’s work cannot be accomplished merely through human ability. Jesus told His disciples that they would receive power when the Holy Spirit came upon them and then become His witnesses (Acts 1:8). Christian witness is therefore neither passive silence nor self-powered boldness. We abide in Christ, receive His Word, depend upon His Spirit, and go where He sends us.

That brings Ezekiel 3 back to where it began. First, eat the Word. Then go. First, receive; then speak. First, allow God to work within you; then become His instrument to others. The goal is not simply to become better at explaining Christianity. As we abide in Christ, His Word abides in us, His Spirit transforms us, and His character increasingly becomes visible through us. Then our lives and words together testify, “Thus says the Lord.”

Psalm 140 and Ezekiel 3 complement one another powerfully. Psalm 140 shows us how to respond when evil comes against us; Ezekiel 3 shows us how to respond when God sends us toward those who resist Him. David refuses to take vengeance into his own hands and instead entrusts evil to the righteous Judge. Ezekiel is forbidden to retreat into fearful silence and must faithfully deliver God’s warning. Together they protect us from two opposite errors: retaliating against a hostile world or withdrawing from it.

Christ perfectly fulfills both pictures. Surrounded by false witnesses, slanderers, and violent men, He did not retaliate but entrusted Himself to His Father. Yet He never softened or concealed the truth to avoid opposition. He loved His enemies enough to die for them and loved them enough to call them to repentance. At the cross, He bore the judgment our rebellion deserved, rose from the grave, reconciles sinners to God, gives His Spirit to those who believe, and now sends us into the same world as His ambassadors.

Our calling therefore begins neither with fighting the world nor fixing the world, but with abiding in Christ. We receive His Word into our hearts, allow it to expose and transform us, depend upon His Spirit, trust the Father with opposition and injustice, and faithfully speak the Gospel entrusted to us. We leave judgment and results with God. Our responsibility is faithful, loving obedience. Where has fear kept me silent when love required truth? Where has anger made me want retaliation when faith required trusting God? Is God’s Word merely something I read and discuss, or is it transforming how I think, speak, respond to opposition, and represent Christ?

“Cross” Fit S-WOD (Spiritual Workout of the Day) – 6 September 2026: Identify one person today with whom you have either avoided a needed spiritual conversation or experienced tension or opposition. Spend five uninterrupted minutes praying for that person rather than against them, asking God to examine your own heart first. Then, if there is a biblical truth, Gospel encouragement, warning, or invitation you have been avoiding because of fear, communicate it today in a way that is truthful, specific, gentle, and clearly motivated by love.

Pray: “Father, You are my God and the strength of my salvation. Guard my heart from fear, bitterness, retaliation, and the desire for people’s approval. Feed me with Your Word until it shapes what I think, love, say, and do. Keep me abiding in Christ and make me increasingly like Him. Fill me with Your Spirit so that I will neither remain silent when You call me to speak nor speak from my own pride and opinion. Give me the courage of Christ, the compassion of Christ, and the character of Christ. Help me entrust judgment and results to You while faithfully carrying Your message of reconciliation to others. Amen.”