My soul breaketh for the longing that it hath unto thy judgments at all times (Psalm 119:20).
“Sacred greed” is the striking phrase C. H. Spurgeon used in a sermon on this verse (“Holy Longings,” MTP #1586), and we might call the same passion of our inspired text “sacred lust” with even better warrant (Gal 5.17). Lust simply means desire, but since it has such strong sexual connotations in modern English, I have chosen “sacred desire” as the best descriptive phrase for this verse. I would grab your attention without needlessly offending your sensibilities.
Our natural desires (those which are part of our human constitution, now fallen, and common to all people, converted and unconverted alike) are either amoral (such as for food, drink, rest, etc.) or immoral, as inordinately for things allowed or illicitly for things forbidden. Because our natural sinful desires lead us to immoral and hurtful acts in our unconverted state, some have fallen prey to thinking that desire itself is evil, and therefore that utopia comes by the total elimination of desire altogether. For example, it seems that Buddhism teaches that desire is the source of all suffering, and the Buddha is reputed to have said, “If you desire all happiness, abandon all desires.”1 This is evil counsel leading to death (Prov 14.12), as Spurgeon pointed out:
[Only] dead things have no aspirations or cravings. You shall visit the graveyard, and exhume all the bodies you please, but you shall find neither desire nor craving. Longing lingers not within a lifeless corpse (ibid.).
We do not need the death of desire but its spiritual turning and transformation. In fact, the whole process of conversion and progressive sanctification can be described in terms of desire, as Augustine observed and Spurgeon paraphrased him, in a quote most valuable for deeply understanding Psa 119.20:
At first there is an aversion in the heart to God’s Word, and desire after it is a matter of growth. After aversion is removed there often comes an indifference in the heart; it is no longer opposed to godliness, but it does not care to possess it. Then, through divine grace, there springs up in the soul a sense of the beauty of God’s Word and will, and an admiration of holiness; this leads on to a measure of desire after the good thing, and a degree of appetite for it; but it shows a considerable growth in grace when we ardently long after it, and a still larger growth when the soul breaks because of these longings (ibid).
We would notice three things about sacred desire from this verse, and then offer a little towards applying these truths practically.
ITS REALITY
This verse is the psalmist’s own true and candid testimony. It is very personal and deep, “my soul.” He speaks of a very great, passionate feeling, a “longing,” yearning desire, a desire that had mastered his heart, driving his life as a whole and his daily activities in a particular direction. The verse’s first phrase has been rendered very precisely this way, “my soul languishes for longing for” (NET Bible notes). “Languish” in its archaic sense means “to pine with love or grief.” It means to want something so badly it hurts, and the protracted state of yearning even makes one “heartsick,” but in the spiritual realm, this is healthy.
It is a blessed thing when the soul is so stretched with desire that it is ready to snap, or when, like a vessel full of fermenting liquor, the working within threatens to break up the vessel altogether. The text represents the agonizing of an earnest soul. Such a state of things shows a considerable advancement in the divine life; but when a believer has those desires “at all times,” then is he not far from being a full-grown Christian (ibid.).
The psalmist bears a similar witness in other places: “Behold, I have longed after thy precepts” (119.40). “I opened my mouth, and panted: for I longed for thy commandments” (119.131). “I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord; and thy law is my delight” (119.174). “My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God” (84.2).
Jonathan Edwards recorded in his journal that soon after his conversion,
I felt then great satisfaction as to my good estate; but that did not content me. I had vehement longings of soul after God and Christ, and after more holiness, where with my heart seemed to be full, and ready to break; which often brought to my mind the words of the psalmist, Psa 119.20, My soul breaketh for the longing it hath. I often felt a mourning and lamenting in my heart, that I had not turned to God sooner, that I might have had more time to grow in grace. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things; almost perpetually in the contemplation of them. I spent most of my time in thinking of divine things, year after year; often walking alone in the woods, and solitary places, for meditation, soliloquy, and prayer, and converse with God (Memoirs).
We dwell upon the reality of sacred desire because people who have never experienced it may doubt its real possibility, but as these holy men of God are not liars, their testimony is credible.
ITS CONSTANCY
The psalmist testified that this sacred desire was his experience “at all times,” “alway” (1560 Geneva Bible), “continually” (HCSB). It was his normal, daily experience, not something only felt in fits and starts, or the exception to the rule of his life. Surely there was some variation or fluctuation of his desire in its degree, but it was always unquenched, deep, sincere, and life-dominating.
Again, even true believers may have a tendency to be skeptical that such a thing is possible for sinful saints in this life, but here we have proof that it is. Admittedly it reflects “considerable advancement in the divine life,” but an advancement which is actually attainable before we get to heaven, and therefore, to be most diligently sought until found and preserved once acquired. Don’t lose hope for it!
ITS OBJECT
This constant, sacred desire was directed toward God’s Word. “My soul breaketh for the longing that it hath unto thy judgments at all times.” In this context, God’s judgments do not refer to His condemnation or punishments, but to His Word as it expresses His evaluation of right and wrong, good and evil. In those days it was likely almost the whole corpus of inspired Scripture was merely the Pentateuch—the first five books of Moses—but today it includes the canon from Genesis to Revelation.
Again, nothing appears more ridiculous to sinners than that anyone should have such a heartsickness to hear, read, study, and meditate on the text of this Book, and nothing less ridiculous to sympathetic saints. The plain reason that real Christians have such a regard to the Word of God is that we love the God of the Word. Whoever loves God will love His Word, with the same kind of love and in the same degree, because we commune with God in His Word. This is not “bibliolatry,” as if we worshipped the Bible, but simply a recognition of the Scriptures as the greatest means by which we come to know, enjoy, and serve God. Scripture itself justifies such a high view. “Thou hast magnified thy word above all thy name” (Psa 138.2).
ENCOURAGEMENTS
Spurgeon concludes his great sermon with several points of application which I would use for this devotional meditation.
First, if you know anything at all experientially of this sacred desire, God is at work in your soul, and you may take heart from this. If you were still in your sins, you would have no sincere cravings after genuine spirituality and communion with God. This tender plant is always the evidence of divine grace; left to yourself your heart would only grow weeds of worldliness. By this you may examine yourselves, whether you are in the faith, and even with the smallest true evidence, may conclude that you are in a state of saving grace, and comfort yourself.
Second, the result of God’s work is very precious. The desire itself is sparing you the inexpressible misery of apostasy, and driving you to pursue a deeper knowledge of Scripture and a more intimate relationship with Christ. Further, this good work God has begun in you is bound for completion, as God cannot fail in His sovereign purpose (Isa 46.9-11; Phil 1.6; 3.21). Remember, too, that prayer is both an expression of this sacred desire and a means for its paradoxical simultaneous increase and gratification.
Third, if you must confess that you totally lack this sacred desire, then go without delay to Jesus for it just as you are, in all your spiritual deadness.
Is not your insensibility one of your worst sins? A hard-hearted child is one of the most hateful of beings. You may pity and excuse many things, but not hard-heartedness. “Thou art the man.” Thou art the hard-hearted child! Cease then to pity yourself, and learn only to condemn. Give this sin no quarter. Treat it not as a misfortune, but as unmingled guiltiness. You may call it a disease; but remember that it is an inexcusable sin. It is one great all pervading sin added to your innumerable others. This should drive you to Christ alone. As an incurable leper you must go to Him for cure (Horatius Bonar, God’s Way of Peace).
The Lord grant us all in ever-increasing measure this quickening gift of sacred desire. Amen.