The First Gospel - Psalm 19 - Sweeter Than Honey
For several weeks now, Citizens Church has been moving through a series called “The First Gospel”—a chronicle of God’s faithfulness through the Old Testament. This journey has taken us from Abraham and Moses to David and the Psalms, pausing at key moments to examine not just the grand sweep of Israel’s history, but the soul of its people. This past Sunday, Josh Harrison brought us into Psalm 19, a meditation on the ways God reveals Himself and the life that emerges when we truly listen.
The Prayer Book of the Bible
We’ve spent a fair amount of time considering the Psalms—not just as beautiful ancient poetry, but as the “Bible’s Prayer Book.” The Psalms, as Josh reminded us, are foundational to our spiritual formation because they teach us how to pray. More than that, they model for us a rugged honesty before God, giving voice to pain, anger, doubt, and joy. They provide language for the seasons when prayer comes easily and, perhaps more importantly, for the seasons when it does not. Sometimes, he suggested, borrowing the words of the Psalms can lift our own to God when we feel dry or hesitant.
If indeed, as tradition holds, Jesus learned to pray through the Psalms, then these prayers ought to be the foundation, as well as the inspiration, for ours.
What the Skies Declare
Turning to Psalm 19, Harrison began where David began—with creation itself. “The heavens declare the glory of God,” writes the psalmist; “the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” For six verses, David is enraptured by the vastness of creation—a universe spun into being by a God of infinite imagination and power. This, Harrison points out, is a contemplation that should still shake us: everything from the tiniest particle to the galaxies is the handiwork of the Creator. We aren’t just observing nature, we’re eavesdropping on a cosmic hymn of glory.
But, as stunning as the witness of creation may be, the psalmist does not stop there.
The Intimacy of God’s Word
In verse 7, a subtle but seismic shift occurs. The focus moves from the grandeur of God (“Elohim”) as creator, to His nearness as “the LORD” (“Yahweh”)—the One who speaks. It is not enough, Harrison argues, that we stand awestruck under the stars; what is most transformative is that this same God stoops low, leans in, and speaks to His people. David is blown away not merely by power, but by relationship. The word of God—His law, His precepts, His decrees—is not cold legislation, but radiant, trustworthy, pure, and “sweeter than honey.”
Why does this matter so much? Because, as Harrison unpacked, these words aren’t meant as spiritual snacks to make us feel better, but as the source of true wisdom and the restoration of our very humanity. God’s Word makes “wise the simple” and refreshes the whole being. The Bible pulls us back from distraction, fear, and confusion, into the center of what it means to be made in the image of God.
David’s Wonder—And Ours
Perhaps the most striking observation Harrison offered was that David is rapturous about a word that, in his time, would have been just the Torah—the law, even Leviticus! If David can find such sweetness and vitality here, how much more can we, living in the age of Christ and the full revelation of Scripture, respond with awe?
For Harrison, the challenge is not guilt or obligation, but invitation: might we recognize again what a privilege it is to open the Scriptures, to know the God who both flings stars into space and whispers our name? This is a gift too precious to ignore and too transformative to keep to ourselves.
Key Lessons from Psalm 19
The Psalms teach us to pray honestly. They give room for the full sweep of human experience, helping us express our hearts to God—even when we lack the words.
Creation reveals the glory of God, but His Word reveals His heart. The beauty and complexity of the world can inspire worship; the Scriptures invite us into intimate relationship.
God’s Word is practical and transformative. It brings true wisdom—not just knowledge—making us more fully the people God intended us to be.
We must not approach Scripture as mere duty, but as gift. If we truly grasp what we’ve been given, even our wilderness seasons become places of refreshing and renewal.
In the weeks to come, as we continue in this series, may we return—again and again—to this sweetness, letting awe and gratitude lead us deeper into knowing the One who both created the heavens and calls us by name.
