John Wesley : The Way Back to God
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart,
O God, you will not despise. Psalm 51:17
The way back to God has always been and still is, through sacrifice. What can we bring
as a sacrifice to our God who in Christ sacrificed Himself for us?
In the context of the times when David wrote this Psalm, he was making the discovery
that God is happier with a heart that mourns for sin than with a sinnerÂ’s perfect bull
bleeding under the priest’s knife. Wesley says of this verse: “a broken spirit is of more
value than many sacrifices.” God seems to use broken things. Someone has pointed out
that it takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to produce rain, broken grain to
give bread and broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives
forth perfume. It is the broken Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns with greater power
than ever. But not only is our broken heart the way back to God, it is GodÂ’s way into us;
God says through the prophet Isaiah: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with
him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive
the heart of the contrite.”(57:15)
Our brokenness is the crack, the opening through which Jesus can enter into our situation.
While this applies in all the areas and ways in which we can be broken in this life (draw
comfort from this truth) our context is spiritual poverty and holy mourning. Psalm 51 is a
model of holy mourning in a spiritually poor heart that seeks to return to the Lord. Verses
1-6 model honest and heartfelt sorrow for our sins, throwing ourselves at GodÂ’s loving
and compassionate mercy. Verses 7-12 model pleading for forgiveness, as opposed to just
asking for it. Verses 13-19 reflect a commitment to walking in GodÂ’s way in the future.
The key to honest turning back is our text verse.
O that I could repent!
With all my idols part,
And to thy gracious eye present
An humble, contrite heart!
An heart with grief oppressed
For having grieved my God;
A troubled heart, that cannot rest
Till sprinkled with thy blood! (99)