Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent? Who may live on your holy mountain? The one whose walk is blameless, who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from their heart; whose tongue utters no slander, who does no wrong to a neighbor, and casts no slur on others; who despises a vile person but honors those who fear the Lord; who keeps an oath even when it hurts, and does not change their mind; who lends money to the poor without interest; who does not accept a bribe against the innocent. Whoever does these things will never be shaken. (Psalm 15)

Who may dwell in the presence of the Lord? The Psalmist gives a pretty high bar in response.

If we examine ourselves against this list, we might very well find that we’ve done a good job in some areas: we keep our promises perhaps, have never accepted a bribe. But even if we’ve not transgressed some of those narrow statements, who of us can really say that we’re blameless? The Scriptures would tell us that none of us are. And if we think we are, then we’ve deceived ourselves.

But if that’s the case, then who may dwell in the presence of the Lord? It seems a hopeless question.

And yet, the Psalms are not the law. The Psalms are prayers. They are worship. Liturgy. The Psalms are spoken at the sanctuary, in worship: in the presence of the Lord. And so this psalm cannot be a judicial decree that bars us all from entrance: somehow it must mean to tell us something different.

Perhaps flipping our understanding around a bit might help. What if instead of an entrance exam, this psalm is more like the guide for grateful living in a worship service, or the call to discipleship? As we gather in the presence of the Lord, we recognize that the only way we stand in his presence at all is because of what he has done in inviting us, saving us: calling us his own.

Far from the fear and death produced by the law we’ll never measure up to, God’s underserved gift of grace that invites us holds out the possibility of transformation as a different response wells up within us: gratitude—thankfulness for what he’s done.

Hearing these words today as Christians, we recognize in this invitation an invitation to respond to the gift of Jesus by being transformed into the likeness of Jesus. In the name of Jesus and because of his gift, we gather in the sanctuary of God. We may dwell with God now even as the Spirit dwells within us. All the actions this psalm speaks were carried out by Jesus perfectly: he was blameless. And his blamelessness is now our own.

So we now are those people who may dwell in the presence of God. And we are now those people who will never be shaken. But we are also those people who are invited to work out the gift that Jesus has worked into us. We are invited to live like he did: to do what is righteous, speak the truth, love our neighbours, lend to the poor, and keep our promises even when it hurts.

We do these things as a grateful response to the gift of righteousness that we have received in Christ. And we can do them, because belonging to God, we know that we will never be shaken.