DID YOU KNOW
Did You Know that God is worthy of praise from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets—and that this means every corner of the earth is invited to worship?
Psalm 113:3 says, “From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” That’s not poetry meant merely to sound beautiful; it is a theological earthquake. In the ancient world, gods were thought to be territorial. Each nation, each region, even each city was believed to have its own deity, and those deities stayed within their borders. But the psalmist boldly proclaims that the Lord—Israel’s God—is no localized deity. He is the Lord of all nations, all peoples, all cultures, and all continents. This means the call to praise is as global as the sunrise itself. When dawn breaks over the mountains of Japan, God is worthy of worship. When morning light warms the plains of Africa, God is worthy of worship. When the sun sets behind the farmlands of Iowa or the rainforests of Brazil, God is worthy still. No matter where you stand on this earth, creation itself declares the invitation: “Praise Him here.”
This expansive view of praise would have sounded revolutionary to those who first heard it. It meant God could be worshiped in Philistia, Egypt, Assyria, Rome, and every place the people of God found themselves. And today it means He is worthy of worship in your kitchen, your office, your car, your neighborhood, and your backyard. Worship is not tied to a temple or limited to a sanctuary. It is a life posture—an ever-expanding recognition of the God who rules the whole sky. When Jesus and His disciples sang Psalms 113–118 at the Last Supper (Matthew 26:30), that same truth echoed in the room: the God who delivered Israel from Egypt was about to deliver humanity from sin, and His praise would soon extend even further than Israel could imagine.
So take a moment today to think about where your praise rises. Is it reserved for Sunday mornings only, or does it break out across the landscape of your life? Praise God in the quiet spaces and the crowded ones, in the moments of peace and the moments of stress. Let your worship be as constant as the sunrise—and as steady as the sunset—reminding you that God is Lord over every moment and every place you inhabit.
Did You Know that the God who rules the heavens also notices the people the world overlooks—and lifts them from the dust?
Psalm 113:7 offers one of the most comforting truths in Scripture: “He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap.” In the ancient world, the “ash heap” was a place of ruin, sickness, rejection, and hopelessness—the last stop for someone society had forgotten. And yet this is exactly where God draws closest. His greatness is never disconnected from His gentleness. The same God whose glory stretches from east to west bends low to lift the vulnerable. He doesn’t simply pass by the hurting; He stoops to gather them. This shows us a God who is not impressed by titles, social standing, or public acclaim. Instead, He draws near to the humble, the struggling, the overlooked, and the weary. If you have ever felt forgotten, Psalm 113 tells you that heaven has noticed.
This theme beats loudly throughout Scripture. The Exodus story celebrated during Passover—where Psalm 113 traditionally begins—is built on the truth that God hears the cry of the oppressed and acts decisively to deliver them. Pharaoh’s throne towered over Israel, but God’s compassion towered over Pharaoh. And when Jesus walked the earth, He continued this pattern. He touched lepers, welcomed children, honored widows, restored outcasts, and dignified those society dismissed. Paul echoes it in 1 Corinthians 1:26–27, reminding believers, “Not many of you were wise by human standards… but God chose the foolish things… the weak things… the lowly things.” God is not embarrassed by neediness; He is drawn to it. Our weakness is not a barrier to His love—it is often the doorway through which His mercy rushes in.
So today, if you feel small, tired, or unseen, take comfort in this truth: you are precisely the kind of person God delights to lift. Invite Him into your ash heap—the place of struggle, disappointment, or weariness. Let Him raise you from the dust in His time and His way. And if your life is in a season of strength, open your heart to see the needs of others the way God does. Compassion becomes a doorway to worship.
Did You Know that the early church was shaped by people who were not influential, not wealthy, and not powerful—because God delights in using the ordinary to accomplish the extraordinary?
Paul’s reminder in 1 Corinthians 1:26–27 is startlingly honest: the first Christians weren’t the elites. They weren’t rulers, scholars, or those with influence. They were fishermen, laborers, widows, servants, and everyday men and women whose lives were radically changed by the gospel. This means the church was never designed to be a gathering of the impressive. It was designed to be a gathering of the redeemed. When Paul says God used the “foolish things” and the “weak things,” he isn’t insulting the church—he is describing the beauty of God’s strategy. Human strength often hides God’s glory. Human weakness reveals it. God chooses the ordinary because their transformed lives make His power unmistakable.
This truth is woven into the story of Passover and the Last Supper. When Jesus and His disciples sang Psalms 113–118 after their meal (Matthew 26:30), they weren’t monarchs, generals, or philosophers. They were simple men—many uneducated, many unknown—yet chosen to carry the gospel to the ends of the earth. Psalm 113 celebrates a God who lifts the needy and raises up the lowly, and the early church became living proof of that great reversal. Through them, God built a kingdom not with kings but with servants, not with fame but with faith. And He has continued doing the same ever since.
So, if you ever feel like you don’t have enough talent, knowledge, or influence to make a difference, remember this: you are exactly the kind of person God calls. Your story may not impress the world, but it can display the beauty of redemption. Let the Lord use your weakness as the canvas for His strength. Offer Him what you have—He will multiply it.
Did You Know that Jesus Himself likely sang Psalm 113 with His disciples on the night before His crucifixion?
Matthew 26:30 tells us that after the Last Supper, “they sang a hymn and went out to the Mount of Olives.” Jewish tradition strongly suggests that the hymn was part of the Hallel—Psalms 113–118—sung during Passover. This means Jesus, knowing what awaited Him within hours, lifted His voice to sing a psalm about God lifting the lowly and rescuing the oppressed. Imagine that moment. The One who would soon take the lowest place—bearing sin, shame, and suffering—sang a psalm declaring that God raises the poor from the dust. The One who would be betrayed, arrested, and crucified sang about a God faithful from one generation to the next. The disciples may not have understood it then, but Jesus was singing the story He was about to fulfill.
This gives Psalm 113 an even deeper richness. The God who lifts the needy does so not only by compassion but by sacrifice. The One who hears the cry of the suffering entered suffering Himself. The God who raises us from the ash heap allowed Himself to be laid in the dust of death so that we could rise in hope. When Jesus sang that psalm, He wasn’t merely honoring tradition—He was stepping into its meaning. Redemption was not just declared at Passover; it was embodied in the Lamb who would take away the sin of the world.
So, the next time you read Psalm 113, picture Jesus singing it. Hear His voice carrying that ancient truth into the night of His greatest obedience. And let that image remind you that no matter how dark the path ahead may seem, the God who delivered Israel and raised Jesus will also carry you through.
Life always gives us reasons to praise, reasons to trust, and reasons to look for God’s lifting hand. Whether you are walking through a season of joy or sorrow, plenty or lack, strength or weakness, Psalm 113 reminds you that worship has no boundaries—and neither does God’s compassion. The Pages of this website are designed for the pastor or serious student of the Word and include a Christian counseling aid to help guide your spiritual journey with depth and care.
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