"The Blessing of Unity" (Middlebrooks) | Psalm 133

Sanctuary

08.02.2026

Transcript

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Well, good morning. I add my welcome to Frank's. My name is Chad Middlebrook. I'm one of the other pastors here on staff. And this morning, as we just sung together Psalm 133, this is a psalm of ascent as we continue our summer series in the Psalms. And this is a song that was sung by the pilgrims, the Israelites, as they traveled to Jerusalem to worship for the festivals. And so as we come to this text, as we do each week, we're dependent upon the Spirit to work. And so let's go before the Lord now and ask him to bless the word as it's read and as it's preached, and even have this taste upon our lips this morning at the Lord's table, that it might be used to magnify the beauty of the gospel in our lives. Let's pray to that end this morning. Oh Heavenly Father, you tell us that faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ. And so we ask now that your word, as it's proclaimed this morning, that you would plant it deep into our hearts and you would grow faith through it. Lord, let this time strengthen what's weak in our faith. And Lord, let it confirm and affirm what is true. Lord, we ask this for the good of your people gathered and for the glory of your great name. In Christ's name we pray. Amen. Well, in his book, The Boys in the Boat, Daniel James Brown tells the true story of nine working-class boys from the University of Washington, sons of loggers, of farmers, and fishermen, who rowed their way to the 1936 Berlin Olympics and beat the world in front of Hitler. But Brown writes the whole book towards a single word that rowers can chase for years and never quite command. And the word is swing. Eight men sit in a thin shell of cedar, each pulling one oar. And most of the time, the rowing is kind of like a controlled violence. They're fighting against the wind, against the water, against another one another's timing within the boat. But then, without warning, it happens. The swing. The catch is the same. The drive is the same. The release is the same. And eight, stop being eight and become one. The oars begin to sound like one oar going in and out of the water. The strain disappears, and what felt like labor now disappears and feels like effortless grace. And rowers who have experienced this phenomenon, this feeling, say it's unlike anything else in the world. Now I would suspect that each one of us here this morning has felt something similar to that, maybe not in a boat, but maybe in a family. Maybe on a team. Maybe within a church. One of those rare stretches when people around us stop pulling against each other and simply move together as one. The Bible has its own word for eight becoming one, and it's not swing. God calls it unity. It says the same surprising thing that this good and pleasant experience cannot be manufactured by the people who desire it the most. It is a gift that must be received and recognized as such. So listen how David opens the psalm that we just sang. He says, Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity. That word good there means beautiful, lovely, pleasing to look at. David's not saying that unity is convenient, nor is he saying that it's efficient. He's saying it's stunning when it's put on display. When the people of God, when they dwell together in oneness, something beautiful goes on display before the watching world. But the opposite is also equally true. That when the church is fractured and there's infighting, there's criticizing of one another, there's gossiping about one another, something ugly is put on display for the world to see. And so, how do we pursue the former while guarding against the latter? This morning I want us to answer three questions about this unity that David is so moved by in this psalm. How do we embrace unity? Where does unity come from? And where is it experienced? So the first thing David tells us, as you see in your outline there, unity in the church is achieved by embracing our family ties. Look back at verse 1. Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity. Brothers, not colleagues, not acquaintances, not people who share a building on Sunday morning, but family. That's the word that David reaches for here. Now think about that for a moment, because that's not our natural instinct. Our natural instinct, if we're honest, is to see fellow human beings as competitors. We often compare within the church our spiritual walks to one another. How am I measuring up to that person? We nurse old grievances within the church. We keep score with one another. We treat other brothers and sisters as rivals rather than family that we're called to love and to serve. And D.A. Carson describes this reality very clearly and very bluntly. He says it this way: He says, the reason there are so many exhortations in the New Testament for Christians to love other Christians is because the church itself is not made up of natural friends, it's made up of natural enemies. We are a band of natural enemies who love one another for the sake of Jesus Christ. I think he's right. Because left to our own natural affinities, many of us in this room would have nothing to do with one another. Many of us don't share the same generation or the same income bracket or the same political leanings or the same personality traits. But what we share is the person of Jesus Christ. Christ has made us family, uniting us to himself, and therefore uniting us to one another. A diverse group of people that he's brought together. And this isn't a metaphor that we can opt out of. It is the truth that must reshape how we look at other brothers and sisters in the body that we have nothing in common with and we find hard to get along with. Let's sit with that thought just for a moment. So who in this church do you find yourself measured yourself up against rather than seeing them and loving them as family? Is there a brother and sister within the congregation that you quietly filed away as a rival? Or maybe they're a threat to you? Or maybe it's just someone that you feel like I can take or leave, whether I see them on Sunday morning or not? Ask yourself honestly. Do I believe that this person is family in Christ? Or have I only treated them as someone who I just see every now and then? Because what would it look like this week to actually take steps towards godly, familial affection and affinity toward that person that just came to your mind? To see them as part of the family. Because the more that we embrace our identity as the family and body of Christ and live as God's family, the more the world sees the beauty of the gospel put on display by the way that we love one another. And so if unity is a family tie that we're called to embrace, then David's quick to remind us it's also something we don't manufacture on our own. And that's the second thing he tells us. Unity is received as a gift from above. Look back at verse 2. It is like the precious oil on the head running down on the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down on the collar of his robes. Do you notice that repetition? Running down on the beard, running down on the collar. The oil doesn't originate on Aaron's beard or on his robes. It originates on his head and then flows downwards, saturating everything beneath it. This is the anointing oil of the high priest that we see described in Exodus 30. Poured out so lavishly that it runs down his head, onto his beard, onto his collar, and the garments that he wore. And on that collar sat the ephod and the breastplate. And what was inscribed on that was the twelve tribes of Israel. Twelve families. Twelve different histories, each with its own rivalries and grievances with one another. Israel's history of the twelve tribes was not tidy and neat if you go back and read the Old Testament. It was messy. Includes Saul's paranoia as he was king and jealousy over David, the civil strife among all the judges that God appointed within Israel. And then eventually you had the division of the kingdom itself. So unity among these twelve tribes was never natural, it was never automatic. It had to be given, it had to be poured out, commanded from above, covering every tribe alike with the lavish oil. That's precisely David's point here. Unity is not something that the 12 squabbling tribes just pieced together by their own strength. It came down as a gift from God to his chosen people. And what was poured out on Aaron in shadow form, Christ, our great high priest, the greater high priest, has now brought in substance, giving the Holy Spirit to unite a new and greater household of faith. As if that wasn't enough, David gives another image to make the same point, but more strikingly, he says it's like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. Now we may read that and go, okay, that's great. We have to understand that Mount Hermon was 120 miles north of Mount Zion. So geographically, this is an impossibility that the abundance of dew that fell on Mount Hermon could actually touch Mount Zion. And David knows this. That's his point precisely. He's describing something by all natural expectations should not happen. But yet it does because God ordains it. Now do you see the parallel of the good news of the gospel itself here with that image? By every natural expectation, sinful strangers, estranged from a holy God, hostile to him, deserving judgment, should have no way of becoming beloved children of God. And yet the word became flesh and dwelt among us. Christ took on flesh, and in John's language, he tabernacled among his people, among an undeserving people, to bring redemption and blessing to those who had no hope of salvation in and of themselves. And so if the gospel itself is this kind of impossible, gracious descent, the sun coming down to earth, then we shouldn't be surprised that the unity that this produces in the church has the same character. It is given by God. It's a gift. It's not manufactured horizontally among us. And notice too that word dwelt. It means past, excuse me, it doesn't mean pass through. It means to soak in. Think about that dew, that image again of soaking into the ground, becoming one. That's, I think, a hard truth for us as Americans to grapple with. Dwelling together. Because in our Western individualistic view of faith, communities kind of take or leave it. We can attend, we can consume, we can leave on Sunday morning and never truly engage with one another within the body. But this psalm is not going to let us off that easy. Because the blessing is not given to isolated believers. David says a blessing is given to brothers and sisters who dwell together, who live life together with all of its messiness. Because dwelling together means that we're living lives that are woven into one another's. Our burdens shared, our sins shared, our worship shared together. Not just our schedules overlapping for an hour or two on Sunday. So where have we settled for a privatized faith? Quietly assuming that our relationship with God is this solo transaction and we don't have to engage with anybody else and be known by anyone. And in our small mountain community up here, there's a strong temptation towards isolation and withdrawal. And what that looks like is we keep people at arm's length. For fear if we get too close, they might find out who we really are and we might be exposed. Our sin might be known. Our struggles, our failures might be put on display. And we're scared to death that others might talk about that in other circles. And so we show up, but we don't let ourselves be known. And we don't seek to know others. And in guarding ourselves in this way, we miss out on the very thing that God has earned and purchased for us and gifted to us, which is the blessing of unity with his people. Those who know our shame, they know our imperfections, and yet still love us with the same grace of the gospel. Is that not what we all desire? Ask yourself this morning: do you resist real connection and closeness within the body of Christ here at LNPC? Think of a specific gift that God's poured out to you. Maybe it's a mentor he's brought into your life that's really encouraged you, helped you grow. Maybe it's a small group that you've got uh part of, been a part of, and you've been able to see benefit of that of living life together with others. Or maybe it's just someone who's come alongside of you in a hard season of life that's been an encouragement to you. Do you see and name those things as God's grace to you, as his provision for you? Or do you see them as things that you've earned, you deserve because of what you've done for God? Because grace like that isn't meant to remain a private memory. It's meant to be shared, spoken of to those around us of God's work in our lives. And so, what's one concrete way this week that you could allow yourself to be poured into by others by making your needs known to those around you? And even to pour out yourself into the lives of others who have needs. Rather than remaining isolated, scared, and self-sufficient. Because life forevermore is the blessing that God ultimately promises here in Christ. Unity is where that blessing is tasted right now, in the here and now. Not as a mechanical result of us being saved, but the family life that God calls us, his adopted children, to live into. And this leads us to the third reality that David speaks of, which is unity is tasted in a particular place. Look at the end of verse 3. For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life forevermore. There. Not everywhere in general, but there to a specific people in a specific place. And in David's day, that location was Zion, the temple. A place where God's presence dwelt among his gathered people corporately. But in the New Testament age, we know that is the church. The gathered body of Christ, consisting of people from every nation, gathered together to be nourished by the word of God, to feast upon the sacraments, to bear one another's burdens, and to encourage one another in obedience to Christ. Notice who does this commanding here. The Lord is the one who commands the blessing. This isn't a prize that we win by trying really hard. No, it's a blessing that God has decreed and even now is partially fulfilling as a foretaste of his promise of life evermore. He's gifted unity, and we are called to maintain and strive and seek that unity at all cost. Because, you know, non-Christians, they often notice the disunity, the hypocrisy that exists within the church, and they say, You want me to be a part of that when y'all can't even get along? No thanks, I'm good. But as we should recognize, that instinct, at least in that respect, is actually more aligned with Jesus than they probably think and that we probably think. Because Jesus himself couldn't stomach the disunity and the quarreling among his own people. Remember the night before he was crucified in John 17, he's got his disciples, their own fighting and their own failures fresh on his mind. And he goes before the Father and he prays for them. But what does he pray for them? He doesn't pray for their success. He didn't pray for their comfort. He prays for their oneness, their unity with one another. He prayed that they may be, all may be one, just as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they may also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. Jesus tied the credibility of the gospel itself to the visible unity of his body. The church. And so when outsiders point to the disunity and they walk away unconvinced of the gospel's power, whether they know it or not, they're actually echoing the very same concern that was at the heart of Christ when he prayed for us, his church. Where have we as a church, where have we settled for a false peace? Where have we stayed quiet about sin? Sidestep truth for peacekeeping, a facade of unity, rather than doing the hard work of pursuing genuine unity among God's covenant people. Because real unity is never bought by silence. And so, what would it cost us to pursue truth and love together instead of one at the expense of the other? And here's where I think the tension lies with all of us. Because we all want to experience what David is describing here in Psalm 133. We want a church family that feels like home. It feels like family. But we're far less eager for the work that it takes to grow into this unity that God has gifted to us. Because unity is not produced by wishing for it or waiting on it to happen. We grow into this unity by having the hard conversations instead of avoiding it. By seeking reconciliation with those that we have issues. By actually showing up and being involved in one another's lives. This kind of biblical unity means we have to be engaged and show up with one another. We have to do the hard work of wading into the messiness that happens in living in a fallen world with other sinners. We have to extend forgiveness when we hurt each other. We have to be engaged when it would feel easier just to walk away and move on to someone else. The blessing that David describes here is commanded by the Lord, but it is experienced by those who do the spirit led work of actually living together. And when we do this work, something remarkable happens. We discover that the believers That sits across the aisle from us, whom we have nothing in common on the surface, we actually share something deeper together than we realize. We share the cross. We share the spirit that indwells our hearts together. And we share the new birth in Christ. Our differences don't threaten that unity. They actually highlight it. They become the beauty to be displayed to the world around us when they see the diversity of this body that is unified in Christ. And notice what this means for us and how we pursue this unity. As we said a minute ago, this oil runs down, the dew falls down. Both move from this high source to everything underneath it. And so our posture can never be self-reliant. We don't generate this unity, we receive it, and then we labor in step with what God has already poured out among us. But that takes humility. Humility that we often have a hard time submitting to. Recognizing that the Spirit has to produce this in us. I have to yield to the Spirit instead of my own desires and my own rights. But when a congregation strives after unity and the power of the Spirit, something happens that no strategy can produce. Our enjoyment with the Lord Jesus increases. Our love for each other and our joy of doing ministry together and carrying out the mission of God increases. And then as a byproduct, the watching world sees us how we love one another, even though we are so different from one another. And they go, how does that happen? I want that. Jesus said it best in John 13. By this, everyone will know that you're my disciples. If you love one another, if you have unity. Near the end of the movie of Remember the Titans, the season is one, but the team's captain, Gary Bertir, is lying in a hospital bed, paralyzed from a car wreck. And Gary is white. But months earlier, he and Julius Campbell, a black teammate, had despised one another when they met each other at camp. They were, by all natural measures from the world, enemies. Different neighborhoods, listening to different music, opposite sides of the town that didn't want them to mix. But through the season, they become friends. And Julius comes to walk into the hospital room where Gary's laying in the bed, and the nurse says, Sorry, only Ken allowed in here. To which Gary raises his head off the pillow and says, Are you blind? Don't you see the family resemblance? That's my brother. Two men who hourly couldn't be any more different. Now only one word could describe them: brothers. Only kin allowed. That sign hangs on this table this morning. This is a family meal. And here's the wonder of the gospel that when the world looks at us, this odd, mismatched community of natural enemies, and asks, what could possibly bring them together? This is the answer. Our bond is in the lavish blood of Jesus Christ that pours down on the multitude of your sins and my sins, uniting us to himself and uniting us to each other. We are family. We get to partake of this meal together. We get to live in the unity that Christ has purchased for us. And man, is that beautiful? When the world gets to see that. So come to this table, not because you're worthy to accept it and take it. Come because you've been united to the one who has set this table. Come and behold what this table points to. The death of Christ. But don't just behold that reality. Come and taste. Because this is a foretaste of the great wedding feast that we will all partake together when perfect unity exists at Christ's return. Let's pray. Oh Heavenly Father, just as Jesus prayed for those who would believe through the message of the apostles, Lord, we ask that we too would be one. One with each other, one with you, so that the world would see and believe that you sent your Son, Jesus Christ, to die for sinners. Lord, would you let your glory dwell in us, drawing us into the same perfect unity that Jesus shares with you so that the world would know that we are loved with the same very love that you have loved your beloved Son. And Father, now as we come to this table, let it be one more sign of the unity that Jesus prayed for us, his church, and a taste of the glory that we will one day share with him at his return. We ask this in Christ's matchless name. Amen.