Please turn with me to Psalm 84. Psalm 84. And let's hear the word of the Lord together. To the choir master, according to the Githith, a psalm of the sons of Korah. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts. My soul faints, yes, longs for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young. At your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise. Selah. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion, as they go through the valley of Baca, They make it a place of springs. The early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength. Each one appears before God in Zion. O Lord of hosts, hear my prayer. Give ear, O God of Jacob, Selah. Behold our shield, O God. Look on the face of your anointed, for a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and a shield. The Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. Oh Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you. Let us pray. Father, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing in your sight. For we ask it in the name of your Son, our Savior, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God forever praised. Amen. Spurgeon called Psalm 84 the sweetest of the Psalms of peace. And what a sweet psalm it is. C.S. Lewis said, if I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world. If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world. Augustine said, oh God, you've made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. Oh God, you've made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. I think these two quotes by C.S. Lewis and Augustine capture the affectional pulse beat of the Christian life, longing for another world. longing for God. Different parts of the Bible bring this out in a vivid, intense way. The pulse beat for another world, for God, is always there in the Bible, but in some parts it's more pronounced than in others. It's a bit like our own pulse beat. It's always there, but it's more pronounced sometimes than in other times. Like when you run up the stairs, we can feel the blood pumping through our veins. And that's like certain parts of the Bible. At certain points in redemptive history, the human longing for another world, the human longing for God is pumping away. It's pumping strong. Just think of the Genesis account of the patriarchs. They all lived in tents. Abraham is called to leave his home, go to a country not his own, Go to God's promised land. And when he gets there, what do we find him dwelling in? A tent. And he never changed his abode. Till the day he died, Abraham lived in a tent. Same with Isaac and Jacob. They both lived in tents. Here was the promised land of Edenic-like paradise. And none of the patriarchs ever put a spade in the ground. They only ever pitched tents. The book of Hebrews, chapter 11, verse eight captures it like this. By faith, Abraham went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. Do you see how the writer of Hebrews shows the patriarch's faith in action? They lived intense. They saw themselves as strangers, as pilgrims on the earth because they were looking for another city whose maker and builder was God. They lived loosely to this world and longingly for another world. Just think of when Sarah dies and Abraham has to purchase a piece of land from the Hittites for her grave. Do you remember what he said? I am a sojourner and a stranger among you. Now can I please buy a piece of land to bury my wife? What's so surprising about that request from Abraham is that he makes it after he's been living in the land 62 years. Look how he talks. I am a sojourner and a stranger among you. Jacob speaks the same way. When he arrives in Egypt and Pharaoh asks him his age, he replies, the days of the years of my sojourning are 130. Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life, and they have not attained to the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their sojourning. For Jacob, his life, and that of his fathers, Isaac and Abraham, was one long sojourn. They were pilgrims in this world. They could have sung with Jim Reeves, this world is not my home. I'm just a passing through. They were homesick for another world. They were homesick for God. They had desires in them. that nothing in this world could satisfy, as C.S. Lewis would say. They were restless for God, as Augustine would say. The period of the patriarchs living in tents is one of those parts of the Bible where the affectional pulse beat for heaven is pounding away. It's pumping strong. But there's another. part in the Bible that captures this pulse beat for another world, this pulse beat for God, and that is the annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem. The annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Every year there were various festivals that were held in Jerusalem. The Feast of Passover, the Feast of Pentecost, both around Easter time, and the Feast of Tabernacles at autumn, or the fall, as you say here. In each case, the Israelites would travel from where they lived up to Jerusalem, up to the temple. They would make sacrifices, they would pay their tithes, and they would meet with God in his temple. The journey was known as a pilgrimage, and as such, it was a pilgrimage to God's dwelling place because the temple symbolized God's dwelling place on earth. The temple was heaven on earth. It was a microcosm of heaven on earth. And so these pilgrimages to Jerusalem were a regular reminder to the Israelites that Canaan was not their home. They were just a passing through. Their real home was where God dwelt, in his temple. And for that brief time up in Jerusalem, they had a touch and a taste of heaven on earth. And Psalm 84 is set in the context of these pilgrimages to the temple in Jerusalem. And as such, it is another moment in the Bible when the affectional pulse beat for heaven, for God, is pumping strong. Because this psalm strips away all the pomp and ceremony of the feasts at the temple, all the fuss and fancy, and it gets to the very heart of what these pilgrimages were all about. They were about dwelling with God in his temple. They were about getting to God. They were a regular reminder to the Israelite that this world was not their home. They were just a passing through. Their ultimate destination was heaven. Just as David said in Psalm 27 verse 4, One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after. that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple. And if this psalm does anything for us it shows us that this world is not our home. we're just a passing through. This psalm orientates us beyond this world and shows us where the desires of our hearts ought to be directed. Now before we go any further let me make an important qualification. When I say this world is not our home I don't mean earth below is not our home and heaven above is. Of course There's a sense in which that is true. When we die, our body and soul are separated and our soul goes to be with the Lord in heaven. And there's a sense that when we end our earthly pilgrimage, we go home to heaven. We enter what theologians call the intermediate state. It is a happy state of blessing with God in his heavenly courts. But it is only an intermediate state. which means that there is an ultimate state that awaits us, the glorious state of resurrected bodies in a new heavens and a new earth. So when I speak of longing for another world, we ought not to think only of our souls going to heaven when we die and entering that intermediate state. We also ought to think of our resurrected bodies in a new heavens and a new earth, which will be our ultimate home forever and ever. If I could illustrate that distinction between the intermediate states and the glorious state of resurrected bodies. In Philippians, Paul says in chapter one, verse 21, I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. That's the intermediate state. But in Philippians chapter three, in the same letter in verse 20, he says, but our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that we will be like his glorious body. Both states can be called heaven. So when I use heaven, I'm referring to the intermediate state and the ultimate glorified state. So with that qualification in mind, that this world is not our home, we're just a passing through, waiting for the intermediate state, waiting for the ultimate state of a new heavens and a new earth with glorified bodies. Let's look at this psalm with that qualification in mind. Let's look at it under three headings. This psalm shows us three ways in which the psalmist pulses His heart pulses for heaven, how it pulses for God. Number one, a longing for heaven, a longing for God, verses one to four. Now as I read these verses, keep in mind that God's temple in Jerusalem was a picture of heaven on earth, where God lives. And you'll see how this psalm reveals a longing for heaven, a longing for God. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts. My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Now the word lovely does not mean that God's dwelling place is lovely looking. I'm sure it was. But if that's what the psalmist meant, it's a bit strange that he doesn't then go on to describe what God's dwelling place looks like. There's not one description in this psalm of what God's dwelling place looks like. Rather the word lovely here means something like lovable. How lovable is your dwelling place O Lord of hosts. How I love your dwelling place is really what the psalmist means. And his love for God's dwelling place is seen in his intense longing for it. Verse two, my soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord. Two opposite descriptions for this one intense longing. He faints for God's dwelling place. The blood rushes from his body in a kind of craving for the place. Then his heart and his flesh sing for joy. That is, his whole being sings for joy. Now the blood rushes back, if you like, because you can't sing if you're feeling faint. These two polar opposite physical experiences, fainting and singing, together they capture this one intense longing for God's dwelling place. Being with God in his temple is this psalmist's one consuming passion. So much so that he expresses envy at those who get to live there permanently, verse three and four. Even the sparrow finds a home and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young. At your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. He's envious of the sparrows who get to go and find a home in the arches of the temple roof. He's envious of the swallow who makes her nest in the eaves of the temple. She gets to have her young just above his altars. The birds have easy and free access. They come and go as they please. Boys and girls, we're out in the countryside here. You've maybe seen some barns as you were driving here to the Sulphur Springs. Did you see the swallows and the birds flying in and out? Well, maybe not. They're probably sleeping on the way or on the iPad for peace and quiet for the parents. But if you ever go to a farm and you look up at the barn, watch the swallows, watch the sparrows fly in and out. And notice, they never ask the farmer for permission. They just fly in and they fly out. They come and go as they please. But this psalmist can't come and go as he pleases to the temple. He has to make a pilgrimage to get to God's temple and then he has to leave again for months at a time. This is why he's envious of the sparrows and the swallows. They get to go in and out whenever they want. That's why he's envious of this other group, not just the sparrows and the swallows. He's envious of those who live in the temple of God, the priests, the Levites, the gatekeepers. He's envious of them because they get to live in God's house singing his praises continually. Verse four, blessed are those who dwell in your house ever singing your praise. I've been reflecting on this recently since the death of our daughter, Layla. One Sunday evening, three and a half years ago, while we slept at nine months in her mother's womb, Leila quietly slipped away on a Sabbath rest to her eternal rest. On a day of rest, she entered her eternal rest. I still remember those days of longing for her to come back. longing to feel that little kick in her mother's womb. Four days later, she was stillborn. And then the next day, we handed her over to a hospital personnel grief officer, and we walked out of the hospital without her. I can still remember the sharp, searing pain of leaving her. As Jackie held her, I kissed her on the forehead and said, my sweet, sweet Layla, we'll see you on the other side. There's not a day that goes by that we don't long for her to return, to come back to us, even just for a day. But think about what we would be asking of her. We'd be asking her to leave the courts of the Lord of hosts, to leave her home in heaven where she gets to praise God continually. Why would we ever ask her to leave that? Blessed are those who dwell in your house ever singing your praise. Samuel Rutherford wrote to a mother once who had lost her child and said that the Lord has cut off one of your branches so that you might grow higher and closer towards heaven. You see, life is not about those who have gone before us coming back to us. It's about us going to them. The psalmist here doesn't want the sparrows and swallows confiscated. He doesn't want them to come and live with him in his house in the countryside. He wants to go and live where they live. The psalmist doesn't want the priests and the Levites and the gatekeepers to have to leave the temple and go and visit him where he lives. No, he wants to go and live where they live. He wants to go and live in God's dwelling place, in God's heaven, because blessed are those who dwell in your house ever singing his praises. Now notice how the stanza ends. It doesn't end with a place, it ends with a person. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, there's the place, ever singing your praise, there's the person. C.S. Lewis once said, Heaven is Oxford, lifted up and placed in the middle of County Down, Northern Ireland. C.S. Lewis was a genius. He was born in Belfast. He holidayed every year in Ireland, in the north of Ireland and the south. He holidayed every year after he left when he was at university and a professor at Oxford and Cambridge. Now Lewis, he got the right county and country, but he got the wrong university. But I will forgive him as a fellow Ulsterman. I'll forgive him for that blind spot. But notice what he was saying. Heaven is Oxford lifted up and placed in the middle of County Down, Northern Ireland. What he was saying was, heaven is not just a beautiful place like County Down. For Lewis, heaven is a beautiful place because it is an inhabited place. When he spoke about Oxford being lifted up and placed in County Down, he was speaking about Oxford, the university city, with its students and professors and town folk and libraries and culture. Lewis was saying that heaven is about the people as much as the place. And that's what this psalmist is saying. Heaven is a praiseworthy place. but only because it is inhabited by a praiseworthy person, God. That's why this psalmist finds God's dwelling place so lovable, because the Lord of hosts, the living God, is so lovable. Heaven is only heaven because of who lives there. Did you notice how dominant the references to God are in this psalm? 14 or 15 times God is referred to with a whole bunch of different titles. That's more than one reference per verse. Only six references to God's dwelling place. The psalmist does not just long for heaven. He also longs for the God of heaven. He's longing for a person more than a place because it's God who makes heaven heaven. Heaven is only heaven because of who lives there. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, when he was dying of cancer, had a friend visit him and the Christian friend said to him, Doctor, shall we pray for you to be healed? And Martyn Lloyd-Jones looked at him and said, don't hold me back from the glory. He was about to go and see God. the living God in all his glory. No longer by faith, now by sight, don't hold me back from the glory. So that's what this opening stanza of Psalm 84 shows us, a longing for heaven, a longing for God. Second, a journeying to heaven, a journeying to God, verses five to seven. The last stanza ended with a blessing on those who live in God's house, ever singing his praise, and this stanza begins with a blessing on those who journey to God's house. Verse five, blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. In other words, blessed are those who are already in heaven, and blessed are those who have the journey to heaven fixed in their hearts. have pilgrimage fixed in their hearts." That's what the phrase highways to heaven refers to. Blessed are those who have the pilgrimage to heaven fixed in their hearts. Such people, says the psalmist, are a source of refreshing comfort. as the pilgrims travel through the valley of Baca. We're not exactly sure where the valley of Baca was, but most commentators think Baca refers to balsam trees, which were in the valley of Rephaim, southwest of Jerusalem. It was the one pilgrim route for those in the south that involved walking through a valley. It was perhaps the most difficult route to Jerusalem because this valley would have been dry in the autumn, feast of tabernacles, and there was danger because it was close to the Philistines. But more than that, Baka sounds exactly like the Hebrew word for weeping. This is the valley of weeping. Perhaps the balsam trees wept their gum. It's why Isaac Watts and John Light's version of Psalm 84 has the phrase veil of tears. Yet the psalmist says that those who go into this veil of tears with their strength firmly rooted in God and with pilgrimage in their hearts, they turn a dry place into a place of springs. In other words, their lives become a blessing to those who journey with them. I wonder if you've ever heard of the saying about some Christians, oh, so-and-so is so heavenly minded they're of no earthly use. Have you heard that saying? Yeah, it's an absolute load of nonsense. Those who are so heavenly minded are of great earthly use because they remind us that this world is not our home. We're just a passing through. Leila was incredibly heavenly minded. and she has been of great earthly use. That's why we call her Layla the Evangelist, because she's pointed us to God. She's pointed us to another world. She said to us, this world is not your home. You're just a passing through. And when you meet people like that, people who are so heavily minded, They comfort us along the way. They remind us that heaven is our home. That our destiny is the new heavens and the new earth. They teach us to live loosely to this world and longingly for another world. I have a dear friend called Sam who has had leukemia. He's nearly died on a number of occasions. He has, in God's kindness, been in remission now for a number of years. But he has what's called the graft versus host disease. He had to have two bone marrow transplants, and the second one worked. But he now suffers terribly. His skin, if you see him, he looks like a burns victim with the way his skin has reacted to this graft versus host disease. And as of yet, there seems no healing for Sam in this life. We pray for it, we long for it with him, but so far he continues to live in what he describes as a limbo. Neither getting better, not really getting much worse, just living in limbo with these terrible symptoms that he has to deal with day in and day out. Do you see when I go to visit with Sam, who's a believer, he is a spring to me. I come away refreshed because you know what Sam does? Sam lifts my eyes off this world and points me to another world because at this moment that's what he hopes for. He hopes for heaven. He hopes for healing. He hopes to meet God. He longs for the day when he will run and skip and jump again. He's focused on another world. I wrote an article recently on Sam 84 I sent it to him, and I just wrote at the top, Sam, you are my spring. You are a spring in my valley of tears. He lifts my eyes to another world. He lifts my eyes to God, and that's where our lives are heading, verse seven. They go from strength to strength. Each one appears before God in Zion. Notice, all mentions of God's dwelling place have now disappeared. The journey is now solely focused on getting to God in Zion. The destiny of our earthly pilgrimage is not to a place, but to a person, to God. Which is what the psalmist then prays for in verses 8 to 12, which brings us to our third point. We've seen a longing for heaven, a longing for God, We've seen a journeying to heaven, a journeying to God, and now, third, a prayer to reach heaven, a prayer to reach God. Verses eight to nine. O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer. Give ear, O God of Jacob. Behold our shield, O God. Look on the face of your anointed. For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and shield. The Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O Lord God of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you." Now at first sight, verse nine feels rather out of place, doesn't it? I mean, if you take verse eight, it runs quite nicely into verse 10. O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer. Give ear, O God of Jacob, for a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God. So the question is, what is verse nine doing there? Behold our shield, O God. Look on the face of your anointed. He moves from speaking about trying to journey towards God and Zion. He moves from speaking about the temple to speaking about the king because the word anointed here is a reference to the king and shield is a metaphor for the king. So it's a prayer for Israel's king. But why did the king appear all of a sudden? Well, because the king was responsible for the prosperity and protection of God's people and God's temple in Zion. The prosperity of the temple, the prosperity of the people depended upon the king. If Israel's king was disobedient, then God's curse fell on king and people, and if God's curse fell on them, then they became vulnerable to the surrounding nations. Just think ahead to the exile. When Judah went into exile, it was because their kings fell into sin. And God brought his curse down on them. And what did that curse involve? The Babylonians coming in. And what did they do to the temple? They destroyed it. So there was no meeting with God in his temple anymore. And so this psalmist prays that God might behold the king and look with favor on him. So that the people will have this ongoing access to God. Because the access to God in the temple is dependent on the king. And we see that in verse 10 and 11 because of the two little words, for, at the beginning of verse 10 and then again at verse 11. The psalmist is giving us the reasons why God, why he wants God to look with favor upon the king. Behold our shield, O God, look on the face of your anointed, for, because a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. This verse contains two comparisons. The first one is temporal. A day in God's courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. That's one day in three years. The second comparison is spatial. Being on the edge of God's house, on the threshold, is better than living as a doorkeeper in the tents of wickedness. with all its seeming pleasures. Years ago, when we were about to leave Cambridge to come to America, we went down one Sunday afternoon to King's College Chapel. I wanted to take Ben in to let him hear the last even song in Cambridge and to hear it live. And when we got there, we were late and the doors were locked. There are these old wooden doors that are hundreds of years old. And we went and we tried to get in, but they were locked. So we pressed our ears against the door, longing to get in. And we stood there in the cold. It was absolutely freezing. And we stood there for one hour in the cold with our ears pressed against these doors. Do you know why? Because through those doors we heard the sound of angels singing. It was so beautiful, the choir boys singing these songs. And we would rather have stood there for one hour in the cold than being at home all afternoon in front of the fire. And that's what this psalmist is doing here. He's comparing one day in the courts of God than better than a thousand elsewhere. And he compares it with the tents of wickedness, with all the fleeting pleasures of the world. He's saying one day in your courts, even on the edge, on the threshold of your house, just one day on the threshold would be better than a thousand days in the middle of the tents of wickedness with all the seeming pleasures of sin. Now, why are these courts so incomparable? Why are they so desirable in verse 10? Well, the answer is there in verse 11. Four, because the Lord God is a sun and a shield. The Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. Why are God's courts incomparable? Why are they so lovable? Because God is there. Because God is there. Why is standing on the threshold of heaven better than dwelling in the midst of the world's pleasures? Because God lives in heaven. And he is a son. In that heavenly country bright, need they no created light? Thou it's joy, it's light, it's crown. Thou it's sun, which goes not down. The sun is a picture of light and life. The shield is a picture of protection. God is our light and life and protection. He gives grace, favor. He gives glory, honor, and he gives good things. grace, glory, and good things come from the God who is light and life, who is a protection to all who take refuge in him. This is why the psalmist prays for God's favor on the king, so he can keep getting access to this God, the God of grace and glory and good things. Now what are these good things? that he does not withhold from those who walk uprightly. Well, in the context for Israel, I think they would have been the material blessings of a promised land, of a fruitful womb, of a good harvest, which were all a foretaste of the future inheritance in heaven. But what are they for us New Testament Christians? Well, I don't think it's a promise of a spouse, or children, or a job promotion, or good health, or the right house purchase, or all of your children happily married off and lots of grandchildren. I don't think it's any of those things. All of those things are good things, but like Job, you can suffer the loss of such things while seeking to live and walk uprightly. So what are these good things that God does not withhold from us? Well, I think the answer is found in comparing verse 10 and 11. The word better in verse 10, is the same word in Hebrew for the word good in verse 11. For a day in your courts is good or better than a thousand elsewhere. No good thing does God withhold from those who walk uprightly. In other words, the good thing that God does not withhold from us is being with God in his courts. God does not withhold heaven from us. God does not withhold himself from us. Because what God gives us in the gospel of his son is himself. But of course that is only true if he looks with favor on his anointed king. Which means for us he must look with favor on his son Jesus Christ our king. One of the ways in which the Psalms connect to Jesus is by presenting experiences that Christ himself would experience. What I mean is, the psalmist, or the person described in the psalm, like the blessed man in Psalm 1, or the anointed king in Psalm 2, or the righteous sufferer in Psalm 3, the person described in the psalm is a type of Christ in their experience. But the fullest and the most perfect expression of their sufferings or their disappointments or their desires is only found in the life experience of Jesus Christ. They are mere shadows. The sons of Korah who write this are just expressing shadow desires, imperfect desires, partial desires. But when Jesus comes and he sings the Psalms, he was the great Psalter singer. When he comes and sings the Psalms, he perfects these desires. He brings them to their ultimate perfect consummation. He was the true faithful Israelite. He perfectly experienced and expressed the desires of Psalm 84, especially the intense pulse beat for God and for heaven. Jesus was the son of man, born of Mary, but throughout his life he never forgot that he was a son of heaven. During his earthly ministry he wandered from place to place like his patriarch fathers before him. He never pitched a tent to dwell in. Foxes have holes, birds of the air have nests, but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head. He went one further than the patriarchs. They had tents to dwell in. Jesus didn't even have a tent to dwell in. He had nowhere to lay his head. This world was not his home. He was just a passing through. The life of our Lord in the Gospels is one of those moments like the patriarchs in Canaan and like the pilgrimages to Jerusalem, where the affectional pulse beat for heaven, for God, is pumping strong. Jesus is the ultimate pioneer pilgrim, the one who in his earthly life embodied the perfect longing for heaven, the perfect longing for God, and because he perfectly lived out that longing, God looked with favor on his anointed one, on our anointed king, This was evidenced in his death when the temple curtain was torn in two. God removed the angelic barrier that had stood between him and humanity since Adam had sinned in the garden. And then after his resurrection, Jesus blasted through the clouds into heaven to sit down at the right hand of God in the heavenly temple, the Mount Zion above. For the joy set before him, he endured the cross and then sat down at his father's right hand. Hebrews 12. Jesus went home. This world was not his home. And in his resurrected, glorified state, he became the first fruits of the new creation, our future home of the new heavens and the new earth. But remember what Jesus said to his disciples before he left. If I go away, I go to prepare a place for you. In my Father's house are many mansions, and if I go away, I will come again, so that where I am, you might be also." Do you see the destiny that awaits us? Where I am, you might be also. Jesus is our anointed King who secured our entrance into that heavenly temple above, and when we die, Our souls will go to be with him, and when he returns in glory, our bodies will be resurrected, and we will go to dwell with him in a new heavens and a new earth forever. And when Jesus finally does bring us into that bright, into those bright courts of heaven, to the endless day, we will find that C.S. Lewis and Augustine were right. We were made for another world. We were made for God. Because those deep longings that we experience now will be met then, fully and finally. But they will be met not simply in a new creation. They will be met essentially in God himself. Let us pray. Father, you made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. We thank you that you have reached down in your electing, sovereign, free love, and you have sent your spirit into our hearts, and you have shed abroad in our hearts a deep love for you, a love for your son, the Lord Jesus, your anointed one whom you looked with favor upon. We thank you that you have given to us faith in Christ, we thank you that you have given to us a love for the Savior and a longing for heaven, a longing for you. And we pray that this Psalm would remain with us for days and weeks and months and years to come and that it would strengthen that affectional pulse beat for your place and for you, the living God. So please help us in this life and please bring us safely to those bright courts above. In Christ's strong name, amen.