Sermon preached by Dr. John A. Huffman, Jr.
January 27, 2008
Copyright © 2008, John A. Huffman, Jr.
All rights reserved.

Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish. (Psalm 49:20)

Do you remember where you were Monday, January 23, 1994 at 4:31 a.m.?

I will never forget!

My alarm had just gone off. I was getting up early to take our teen-aged daughter, Janet, up to the local mountains for a day of skiing. There had been a fresh dump of snow.

I had just reached over and given Anne a hug and kiss before getting up when, simultaneously with that hug and kiss, our house and the rest of Southern California started shaking.

Anne and I jumped out of bed doing everything wrong. We saw the water sloshing five, six feet into the air in our backyard Jacuzzi, as we rushed down our front hall lined with plate glass to check on Janet. She was safe. But almost as quickly as the shaking had started, it stopped.

In the next hour of radio and television reports, we began to realize that the epicenter of the quake was near Anne's parents' home in Sherman Oaks. We tried to phone them but could not make connection. Then our phone rang. They had successfully gotten through to us. They said, "Please come right up! We are in shambles!" So we did, remarkably fast on the empty 405 Freeway, only to find them wandering around, dazed, in a house with shattered windows, books and other personal items strewn all over the floors.

That Monday ended up a day of family bonding, as Anne, Janet and I worked alongside Anne's parents, bringing their lives back to some semblance of normalcy. Then I had an opportunity to observe some of the earthquake devastation in the surrounding area. I saw many people, driven out of their homes, standing around, trying to decide what to do next. And I stepped into the Bel Air Presbyterian Church's newly dedicated sanctuary and saw the major damage from the shaking, as well as the flooded condition brought about by three hours of uninterrupted flow of the fire sprinkler system, which had been triggered by this massive Northridge earthquake.

Today's biblical text takes on great significance when seen in the context of the realities of Southern California life. Our last few months have been free from earthquakes but marked by drought, fires and, now, flooding. One wag stated, "We have four seasons in Southern California--drought, fire, flood and earthquake."

The older we get the more aware we are of the potential for catastrophe, the startling immediate loss from natural disasters or the slow ebbing away of wealth, beauty, health, material possessions and money.

It is in this context that we look together at Psalm 49. Psalm 49 is one of my greatest discoveries. Or, better stated, Psalm 49 has discovered me.

The final verse states this stark reality, "Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish" (Psalm 49:20).

Constantly bombarding my thoughts is a phrase that capsules this chapter and keeps pulsating through my very being: "Perishing pomp! Perishing pomp! Perishing pomp!" This keeps driving its rhythmic beat against my normal human tendencies.

What comes to your mind when you hear the word "pomp"? Is it long rows of robed college graduates solemnly processing into their gothic chapel for the baccalaureate service? They are propelled by the musical strains of "Pomp and Circumstance." Their gait is one of semi-awkward formality. Where else but at a graduation could they get by walking that way? Academic caps add a dignity, while a robe covers a body, which, moments before, could well have been flipping a frisbee back and forth across the campus mall.

Webster partially defines pomp as an "ostentatious display: an ostentatious gesture or act." To follow up on that we need a definition of ostentatious. What emerges includes words such as "pretentious" and "showy." In defining the word pretentious, Webster includes such phrases as "an allegation of doubtful value: pretext: a claim or a right to attention or honor because of merit."

It is against this background that the psalmist writes. He is addressing the world. Everyone in this world is included. He cries out:

Hear this, all you peoples;
give ear, all inhabitants of the world,
both low and high, rich and poor together.

My mouth shall speak wisdom;
the meditation of my heart shall be
understanding.

I will incline my ear to a proverb;
I will solve my riddle to the music of the harp. (Psalm 49:1-4)

This man is prepared to say something of universal significance. He wants everyone to hear it, both the low and the high, the rich and the poor. Everybody listen. A word of wisdom is coming. Then, in the following verses, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he restates what God has said so many times, both before and since. Simply stated: Pomp perishes. The things of God last. We humans look on the outside, but God looks on the heart.

First: God has a word for those of us who live in fear of powerful people.

This is a word for the underdog. Are you afraid of your boss? We all are, to some degree or another, aren't we? That person or group of persons has power over us. Our family's well-being rests in the hands of one who may not even know our family. Or we may even be afraid of power wielded by our parents, our spouse or our children. We scrape and bow before other human beings, determined to please their whims. Some of this is good. It marks us as persons willing to humbly serve. Some of this is not so good, as it dehumanizes that unique essence of personhood, which is God's gift to each of us.

Today is the day of intimidation. Popular books deal with power and intimidation. The psalmist raises a legitimate question. He asks, "Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of my persecutors surrounds me, those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches?" (Psalm 49:5-6). Then he goes on to talk about two types of powerful people.

He starts out talking about the wealthy.

How many times have you sat in a committee meeting hesitating to speak up when someone of wealth was in that room? How much deference do we pastors show to the wealthy in our congregations? How inclined are we to avoid church discipline when it could mean the loss of a substantial giver? How instinctually do we go under cover with our own moral values when someone with wealth who has some say in our future says or does something that is directly opposed to what we believe is right?

The psalmist corrects our perspective, stating an obvious truth. Rhetorically, he asks why we fear the persons who trust in their wealth and boast in their riches.

Truly, no ransom avails for one's life,
there is no price one can give to God for it.
For the ransom of life is costly, and can never suffice,
that one should live on forever and never see the grave. (Psalm 49:7-9)

Simply stated, you can't buy off God! It makes no difference how much money you have. The Rockefellers, the Guggenheims could not get one bit closer to God because of their fortunes. Nor can Warren Buffett or Bill and Melinda Gates purchase twenty-four hours of additional life's breath. The Rothschilds can buy big international companies, but they can't purchase eternal life.

Some years ago, I observed the interesting actions of a wealthy friend. This was in another part of the country, so don't try to figure out his name. He was a good looking man, but he was beginning to age. He feared nothing so much as old age. He would buy any potion or travel to any health spa that dangled the promise of perpetual youth. He loved to drink and eat rich foods. One day, he read about a special youth therapy offered in one of the Caribbean islands. I will never forget how startled I was as he described this promise of perpetual youth, its costs, its conditions and its process. Those undergoing treatments were to totally abstain from tobacco, alcoholic beverages and rich foods for thirty days prior to treatment. Then they would fly to this exclusive health resort. There, they would be administered injections made from the embryos of unborn lambs. The financial cost was astronomical. Government restrictions kept these treatments from being administered here in the United States.

Enthusiastically, my friend observed his thirty days of total abstinence. We bid him farewell. A few days later, he returned to the United States in the peak of health. He felt like a brand-new man. Some of us were never quite sure whether the injections had anything to do with it or whether it was just that the thirty days of total abstinence had begun to take its positive effect.

One thing for sure, my friend couldn't add one single day to his life. He knew it, in spite of the fact that he tried in every way possible to prolong his existence. Some months later, the phone rang. His daughter was on the line. "Dad has just had a heart attack. We're now on the way to the hospital."

I rushed to the emergency room. There, they worked on a heart massage. Then up to the cardiac division of Intensive Care. The very finest doctors, who were close personal friends, couldn't purchase one extra day, no matter how great his money. One of the most vivid memories from my younger years of ministry was that of standing there watching one of the wealthiest men I'd ever met to that point in my life, stripped down to his Jockey shorts, as everyone around him tried to keep him alive but couldn't! There, before my eyes, a man who had everything I could ever dream of having materially died.

All the rest of us may be impressed by wealth. God isn't!

Not only does the psalmist have something to say about the wealthy.

He also has a word to say about the wise.

Remember how God complimented Solomon? The Lord was impressed by this young man who, when given the opportunity to have anything he wanted, asked for wisdom. Again, the psalmist makes his point. Even the wise die. He writes, "When we look at the wise, they die; fool and dolt perish together and leave their wealth to others" (Psalm 49:10).

Do you catch this? There's no need to live in fear of people who are more powerful because of their wealth or because of their intellects. We are all together in this human family--the rich, the poor, the intelligent and the persons less intellectually gifted. We are mortal human beings. Dress us up like Barbie dolls in the fanciest clothes, the most impressive trappings, and you still have a common, ordinary person inside.

Pomp perishes. The things of God last. We human beings look on the outside. God looks on the heart. The one to fear is the Lord--not the wealthy, not the wise, not the person of power who can intimidate. "Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish" (Psalm 49:20).

Second: God has a word for those of us with foolish self-confidence.

Not only are we to avoid fear of others more powerful. Some of us who have grown comfortable, self-sufficient are alerted to our self-deception.

Some of us live in fear of the powerful who dress handsomely in their prestigious garments. We look at them in admiration, only to find that there are no pockets in shrouds. Then, if are not careful, we can develop a self-confidence of our own, forgetting that we, too, are part of this process.

Each of us has a tendency toward distorted self-confidence.

The psalmist writes, "Such is the fate of the foolhardy, the end of those who are pleased with their lot" (Psalm 49:13). They, too, are subject to perishing pomp.

There are basically two kinds of confidence. God wants you to be the master of confident living. It really boils down to the difference between self-confidence and God-confidence.

If our confidence is in the Lord, then we have a better understanding of who we are. We have come to grips with the great doctrine of Creation. We are constituted in the very image of God himself. As human beings, we are special persons. We confront the doctrine of the Fall. We see that each of our lives is defaced by sin. Sin is spiritual, not moral. When we truly confront the fact of our spiritual rebellion, we become aware of our common need. We have no room for self-confidence. We are set free to confront that third great doctrine of Redemption. God enhances your view of yourself as you see yourself created in His image and redeemed from sin by His grace.

No longer are you and I forced to build great projects to our own personal honor. No longer do we measure success or failure on the basis of how large an estate we will leave for our children. Buildings need not be named after us. As affirming as are honors given, these are not necessary, unless we begin to slip back into a false self-confidence.

Psalm 49:11 tells how the self-confident are locked into their graves, even though they have named lands after themselves. "Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though they named lands their own."

Every one of us is familiar with the city and the state named New York. Do you know how that city was named? I didn't. I thought it simply was named after that city in Northern England by the name of York. I thought we had a New York just like we had a New London and a New Hampshire.

The real answer is that, when James, the second son of Charles I, became the Duke of York, he was granted title to New Amsterdam, because he had made a nuisance of himself to his brother, the king. Do you know what he promptly did? He changed the name of New Amsterdam to New York. He was going to perpetuate the memory of himself. He did a pretty ineffectual job, didn't he? Very few people have successfully perpetuated their memories. Even if they do, what does it accomplish for them? They are not even around to enjoy hearing their name spoken.

Those of us who are trying to make a name for ourselves, who have a high degree of self-confidence to the neglect of God-confidence, are described in fascinating terms. The psalmist says that we are like sheep headed to Sheol. Death will be our shepherd. We are on our way to the grave. By this, he does not mean the place where our bodies are deposited. Nor does he mean the place of eternal punishment. He is reiterating the fact that we are all headed toward the end of this life. The person who has power over us and we ourselves, in our own self-confidence, who have power over others, are all headed for the place of departed spirits. We will die.

Let these words settle in.

Such is the fate of the foolhardy,
the end of those who are pleased with their lot.
Like sheep they are appointed for Sheol;
Death shall be their shepherd;
straight to the grave they descend, and their form shall waste away;
Sheol shall be their home. (Psalm 49:13-14)

What a terse word of warning. If you and I are trying to build prestige, reputation and notoriety for ourselves, we are following a false goal. You know the character of sheep. They follow their shepherd. They move in flocks. If the leader unknowingly stumbles over the edge of a cliff, the whole flock will move straight forward, not sensing the danger, and stumble over the cliff.

So the question comes, who will you have for your shepherd? Will it be death? Would it be that orientation toward perishing pomp? Pomp perishes. The things of God last. Man looks on the outside. God looks on the heart. "Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish" (Psalm 49:20).

This basically becomes a matter of attitude.

Riches in themselves are neither good nor bad. It's how you view them. It is what you choose to do with them. God rewarded Solomon not only with wisdom but with riches also. The Bible does not demand that we live lives of poverty. It does call us to an authentic evaluation of our possessions.

Remember that magnificent parable of Jesus? He told of a rich man, whose land had produced so much he didn't know where to store all his crops. He decided to tear down his barns and build larger ones. Remember his rhetorical words? "'And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry'" (Luke 12:19).

God had this man's number. God called him precisely what he was. Jesus tells us God's response:

"But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God." (Luke 12:20-21)

I often think of my predecessor at the First Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Dr. Robert Lamont. I learned so much from him. On one occasion, he capsuled so well what I am trying to say. He talked about how Judas criticized the woman at Bethany for making such an elaborate gesture toward Jesus. She had just poured that expensive ointment on our Savior's feet. Judas snidely remarked how much better it would have been to have given that money to the poor. Dr. Lamont said, "Judas was one of those persons who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing."

Third: God has a leveling word of hope.

It reads, "But God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, for he will receive me" (Psalm 49:15).

What God is really trying to get through to us here is that He confronts each one of us as equals. He is not impressed by how much money you and I have. He is not impressed by how fancy or modest is your home. Material things are important, but they're not the most important. Even your intelligence and your use of that in a way that leads to wisdom, as important as that is, is not the most important thing with God, especially if it's something you and I parade to impress other people.

God just doesn't find himself impressed by our outward appearance.

The prophet Samuel was sent to look for a new king to replace Saul. God sends him to Bethlehem. He is to look over the sons of Jesse. Eliab had it all. Samuel thinks that this must be God's choice. This young man was quite impressive. God counters Samuel's instinctual human response, saying, "But the Lord said to Samuel, 'Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart'"(1 Samuel 16:7).

That's quite a leveler, isn't it? It helps us confront spiritual reality. It cuts out all the superficial values by which we judge others and ourselves.

When you die, you'll carry nothing with you. Your glory won't follow you. You may get some happiness in this life. Praise may come your way. Then it's all over. That's basically what is being said in Psalm 49:16-19.

Do not be afraid when some become rich,
when the wealth of their houses increases.
For when they die they will carry nothing away;
their wealth will not go down after them.
Though in their lifetime they count themselves happy
--for you are praised when you do well for yourself--
they will go to the company of their ancestors,
who will never again see the light.

Your judgment in the life to come will not be measured on human standards. We enter this world naked. We go out of this world naked.

This point was driven home to me on several occasions. I remember the awe with which my parents held the aviation hero Eddie Rickenbacker. Anne and I served the Key Biscayne Church in Florida from 1968 through 1973. That little island, with a population of six thousand people, was connected to Miami by the Rickenbacker Causeway. Eddie Rickenbaker and his wife lived in a villa at the Key Biscayne Hotel. We met a couple of times in the latter years of his life. Then it fell my responsibility to lead a memorial service for him in both Key Biscayne, Florida, where he had spent his final days, and in New York City, where he had spent much of his active business life.

What a thrill it was to share the platform with Jimmy Doolittle, the flying ace, and Lowell Thomas, the well-known newscaster. Our nation has produced its heroes. How exciting it was for me as a young man to rub shoulders at those two services with some of the great leaders of business, politics and aviation. There is an exhilaration that comes from being near those who are famous. Then, suddenly, the exhilaration evaporated, as I realized that some time in the future every humanly great person would become only a memory. Life will be over. Their riches will be gone. The great reputation dims. To some of the younger people in this sanctuary, the names Eddie Rickenbacker, Jimmy Doolittle and Lowell Thomas draw a complete blank. These American heroes entered and left this world just as all of us do. Death is a great leveler.

No, don't be afraid of the gifts that God has given to you. That's not the central thrust of this text. We are simply called to realize that our beautiful trappings evaporate. Our pomp perishes. Only the things of God last. World War aces, well-known newscasters, company chairpersons, prime ministers and presidents, at the time of death, can fall back only on the mercy of Almighty God. We are all on a level. Fortunately, it's a level of hope.

The grand message is that God has ransomed our souls from the power of death. He really has. That's the miracle of God's grace. That's why Jesus Christ went to the cross. That's why His blood was shed. He knew all our human effort geared to attain eternal life is simply perishing pomp. Instead, we are called to simple trust in the Savior!

Do you catch the exhilaration? You and I are set free to be ourselves. We are set free to express our needs. We are set free to share with each other in the community called the church. We are set free to bear one another's burdens. No longer are we dependent on that agonizing effort to be people we know intuitively we can never be. No longer need we strive for that high place, discovering when we get there that we are just a little boy or a little girl in an important position.

Ours becomes an attitude of simple trust in the Savior. How beautifully this has been brought home to me through my years of pastoral work.

Some years ago, I was hospital calling on a dear friend named Erma. She had served her Lord so faithfully through the years. I had no knowledge of her financial circumstances. What I knew was that she loved Jesus. She had been so faithful in supporting all that was done for her Lord. There she was in her hospital bed. Her arms had turned a ghastly bluish-purple. Some strange combination of antibiotics and other medication had caused a chemical explosion within her, producing this strange blood problem.

That day, she had been through an exhausting series of tests. Her left arm had been punctured some twenty to thirty times. They had just unhooked another intravenous needle. She had received several blood transfusions.

I looked into Erma's eyes. She couldn't hide the suffering. Nor could she hide the puzzlement. No glib words would erase the difficulty she was facing.

Then, a precious smile came over her face. She said, "Here I've been wondering why I've had such a siege this winter. Now this. In my discomfort, I found myself like a little girl calling for Daddy. Suddenly, I remembered what Daddy would tell me when I called for him. He'd say, 'Erma, someday you'll call for me and I'll not be able to come. Someday you'll need me and I'll not be here. But remember, Erma, your daddy also has a Father. I need Him every day. And, Erma, remember when your daddy can't come, your daddy's Father can.'"

Then Erma shared how she was sensing God's presence in her time of need. Her father's Father was her Father, too. He was ministering to her in her need.

What a contrast to perishing pomp. How tragic are the ways we fear others so strong. How sad are our efforts to build our own prestige, which is worth so little in our extremity. What a contrast is that simple, straightforward trust in the Lord of that faithful servant such as Erma. Hers is no artificial prop. Hers is spiritual reality. Hers is no temporary equipment for this life. It is one with eternal quality. Hers is no perishing pomp. Hers is that leveling hope of one who depends on the strength available to all--the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Pomp perishes. The things of God last. We humans look on the outside. But God looks on the heart. What does He see in you?