“If thou, LORD, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?
But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared.”

(Psalm 130:3-4)

It might seem unusual that the psalmist’s response to God’s forgiveness is one of fear rather than immediate devotion, love, or gratitude. Should not the awareness of divine pardon produce relief and joy? The experience of Mephibosheth, the grandson of King Saul, provides a compelling illustration of why fear is a proper response to forgiveness.

Mephibosheth had once known the privileges of palace life, but everything changed in a moment. At just five years old, he lost his father and grandfather in battle against David’s forces (1 Sam. 31). As panic spread through the royal household, his nurse fled with him in haste, fearing David would eliminate Saul’s heirs. In her frantic escape, she dropped him, leaving him crippled for life.

Many years passed. Mephibosheth lived in exile, far from the throne of David, hiding in a remote place east of the Jordan River. He had no rights, no inheritance, no reason to expect anything but condemnation should he ever come before the king. Then one day messengers arrived, sent by David himself, with orders to bring him to the palace.

Mephibosheth had every reason to fear. He was the grandson of the man who had spent years hunting David down in jealous rage. He knew that kings typically wiped out the bloodlines of their rivals. And he knew his own wretched condition—a broken, crippled man, unworthy to stand before the king’s throne.

Carried into David’s court, Mephibosheth was laid at the king’s feet. He could not run. He could not resist. He did not dare lift his head. With only a whisper, he uttered, “Behold thy servant…” expecting the worst.

But instead of wrath, he heard mercy.

“Fear not: for I will surely shew thee kindness for Jonathan thy father’s sake and will restore thee all the land of Saul thy father; and thou shalt eat bread at my table continually” (2 Sam. 9:7).

Overcome, Mephibosheth could barely comprehend it. The one who had every right to destroy him instead extended grace. “What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?” (2 Sam. 9:8).

Crippled and cast away, he had lived without hope, without inheritance, in exile from the palace. And now the king was welcoming him—not as an enemy, but as family, granting him a place at his table forever.

This is the fear of forgiveness. “All those that are truly converted are also truly humbled.”[1]

It is not the terror of an enemy before a judge, but the reverent trembling of one who sees the power of the king in contrast to his own helplessness. It is the overwhelming realization that justice could have destroyed, but instead mercy blessed.

Only when we rightly see our depravity—our sinfulness, our guilt, our inability to stand before God—can we begin to grasp the magnitude of divine forgiveness. The Psalmist understood this: “If thou, LORD, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?”

Fear that arises from an authentic experience of divine grace is far greater than the fear of punishment. For it is one thing to tremble at the thought of wrath; it is quite another to tremble at the thought that such wrath has been removed by mercy.

“There is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared.”

Contemplations:

  1. The Weight of My Sin. Lord, if You kept an account of my sins, I could not stand before You. The depths of my depravity are far greater than I can even understand. So let me not take lightly the offense of my rebellion against You but rather grasp the severity of my sin, that I might also grasp the greatness of Your forgiveness.
  2. The Fear of Grace. Father, I see in the story of Mephibosheth my own condition—I was helpless, crippled by sin, unworthy to stand before the King. And yet, instead of condemnation, You extended mercy. Help me never presume upon such grace that I may respond to Your forgiveness with a right fear—a trembling awe of Your kindness. Let me never treat lightly what cost You so much.
  3. The Power of Justification. Jesus, Your righteousness alone is what makes me clean before the Father. There is nothing in me that is worthy, nothing I can claim as my own righteousness. Do I truly rest in Your work, or do I secretly try to prove my own worth? Strip away my self-righteousness Lord, that I may cling only to Christ.
  4. Reverence That Produces Holiness. Lord, the Psalmist says that forgiveness produces fear—a fear that leads to reverence, obedience, and holiness. Am I living in such a way that reflects this truth? Does my life display a deep gratitude for the grace I have received? Let my forgiveness be the foundation of my fear of grieving You rather than a license for complacency.
  5. Living at the King’s Table. Father, Mephibosheth was given a seat at David’s table continually; he ate as one of the king’s sons. And this is what You have done for me. But do I live in the full joy of my adoption? Do I rest in the assurance that I am welcomed by grace alone? Let me live as a child of the King, rejoicing in the grace that has brought me to Your table.

 

Prayer

[Confession and Thanksgiving]

O Lord, if You marked my iniquities, I could never stand before You. My sins are greater than I can number, and my guilt is beyond measure. Yet, in Christ, You have forgiven me—completely, eternally, undeservedly.

I confess, Lord, that I do not always respond rightly to Your grace. Too often I take it for granted. I forget the weight of my sin. I lose sight of what I deserve. Forgive me for treating lightly what cost You everything.

Let me be like Mephibosheth—fully aware of my unworthiness, yet fully embraced by the King’s mercy. Let the fear of grace lead me to worship, to obedience, to holiness. Let me tremble, not at wrath, but at the love that chose to pardon me.

Thank You, Lord, that You do not leave me in exile. You do not turn me away in judgment. Instead, You bring me to Your table, where I will dwell forever. Help me live in awe of such kindness, and let my life reflect a heart that fears You rightly.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Further References for Psalm 130:3-4:

Ps. 143:2; Job 9:2; Nah. 1:6; Mal. 3:2; Rev. 6:17.

 

[1] William Ames, Conscience with the Power and Cases Thereof (Leyden and London: Imprinted W. Christiaens, E. Griffin, J. Dawson, 1639), 9.