The Songs of Ascentنموونە

The City That Cannot Be Shaken

Psalm 125

One of my favorite traditions at my alma mater was a Sunday evening, student-led, candlelit worship service called Catacombs. During my freshman year of college, we would pack out the small chapel at the center of campus. Most weeks, people would be standing outside, peering in from the sidewalk to join in because there was no room left in the building. Those Catacombs services were a beautiful thing. Hundreds of young men and women gathered together to sing to the Lord. I loved it.

However, that old chapel at the center of campus was torn down the summer after my freshman year. A new and much larger chapel had been constructed nearby, so there was no need for the old building, which had stood in its spot for some forty years. Catacombs still happened, but it was never quite the same in the new chapel. There was no longer the need to arrive early to find a spot to sit; there was plenty of room to spread and sprawl. The worship sounded different—not bad—just different in such a large, open space. But there was no going back. The old chapel was gone.

I don’t visit campus much these days, but when I do get back, I’m no longer surprised when I see that some beloved building from my memories is gone and a new one has risen to take its place. That’s just the way things go. Not much is permanent.

For pilgrims headed to Jerusalem, one thing was certain: Mount Zion would be there when they arrived. The psalmist connects its permanence to God’s faithfulness: “Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever”(Psalm 125:1). It’s likely that “Mount Zion” is shorthand for the city of Jerusalem itself and the temple of God, the idea being that God will protect his people“as the mountains surround Jerusalem” (v. 2).

Of course, Jerusalem and the temple were destroyed, not once but twice; first, when King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon rolled into town in 586 BC and then again in AD 70 when General Titus came with tens of thousands of Roman troops. All that’s left of the second temple today are the retaining walls put in place by Herod the Great.

With this history of destruction, it seems somewhat misguided to use the permanence of Mount Zion as a simile for the security of God’s people. Yet the Holy Spirit knew what would happen on that bit of dirt when he inspired the psalmist to pen these words. This wasn’t wishful thinking or religious overstatement. There is a city in heaven, a new Jerusalem that can never be toppled. This is the Mount Zion that will stand forever. See Hebrews 12:22, 28.

As for the temple, Jesus said, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days” (John 2:19). This confused the people, “but the temple he had spoken of was his body” (v. 21), which the powers of darkness tried to destroy on the cross. And so, Jesus is the everlasting temple—God’s presence in our midst forever and ever. John brings it all together in the book of Revelation, recording what he saw (and didn’t see) in the new Jerusalem that descended from heaven. See Revelation 21:22.

As followers of Jesus, our hope is not tied to anything in this world. It is much more secure than that. I cannot wait to worship in the new Jerusalem, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find a small candlelit chapel somewhere in the midst of all that glory, ready to be packed out on Sunday evenings.