Psalm 120 - Crying Out on the Way to Zion
- Joshua Nichols
- Jul 5
- 3 min read

Crying Out on the Way to Zion: Reflections on Psalm 120
The Christian life does not begin with a celebration. It begins with a cry.
Psalm 120, the first of the fifteen Songs of Ascent (Psalms 120–134), is not a song of arrival—it’s a psalm of departure. It doesn’t describe the joy of Jerusalem, but the sorrow of exile. It’s the heart-cry of a sojourner, a pilgrim aching for home. And if we’re honest, it’s where many of us live.
A Cry from Trouble (Psalm 120:1–2)
“In my trouble I cried to the Lord, and He answered me. Deliver my soul, Lord, from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue.”
The psalm begins not in triumph, but in trouble. The Hebrew word (tsarah) signifies distress, anguish, tightness. This is the kind of pressure that squeezes tears from the soul. But what sets this psalmist apart is where he turns: not inward to despair, nor outward to retaliation, but upward in prayer.
He cries out to Yahweh, the covenant-keeping God. And this cry is not met with silence. It is met with an answer.
Every true journey of faith begins here—not with self-help, but with surrender. Not with a ladder up to God, but with a cry for God to come down and deliver. In a world full of falsehoods—spiritual, political, relational—we, too, must begin by crying out for rescue.
A Cry Against Falsehood (Psalm 120:3–4)
“What will He give to you, and what more will He do to you, you deceitful tongue? Sharp arrows of the warrior, with the burning coals of the broom tree.”
Now the tone turns confrontational. The psalmist addresses the “deceitful tongue,” a stand-in for all that is corrupt and manipulative in speech. He does not seek revenge. He declares judgment.
God will answer deceit—not with mild correction but with burning justice. The arrows and coals represent divine retribution. In a culture where words are weaponized and truth is trampled, we are reminded: God is not mocked. He sees, He hears, and He will act.
And yet, here is the gospel: Jesus bore those arrows. Jesus absorbed that fire. At the cross, the Righteous One suffered under the weight of lies so that those who lie could find mercy. Christ is both our Advocate and our Judge, our shelter and our truth.
A Cry for Peace (Psalm 120:5–7)
“Woe to me, for I reside in Meshech, for I have settled among the tents of Kedar! Too long has my soul had its dwelling with those who hate peace. I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war.”
The psalmist is weary. He feels like a stranger in a foreign land—Meshech and Kedar symbolizing distant, warlike peoples. His soul is tired of the tension, the hostility, the unending opposition.
And yet he says, “I am for peace.” He is not giving in to the culture around him. He does not become like the world. He bears witness to a better way.
As believers, we are exiles too. We live among those who “hate peace”—not just politically, but spiritually. We speak of grace, and the world shouts war. But this tension is not new. It is the tension of the cross. And it is also the calling of the church: to be peacemakers in a world at war.
From Cry to Christ
Psalm 120 ends not with resolution but with longing. And that’s appropriate. Because the journey to Zion doesn’t happen in a day. The pilgrim life is a long obedience in the same direction. This psalm is not the end—it’s the first step.
And every step is taken in the shadow of the cross and in the light of the resurrection. Jesus is our Peace (Ephesians 2:14). He is the Truth (John 14:6). He is the God who hears when we cry.
So let us cry out. Let us cry against. And let us cry for. For one day, our cry will be turned into a song—and our exile into everlasting peace.
“Blessed are those whose strength is in You, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.” (Psalm 84:5)
Or you can watch my sermon from this Psalm here: https://youtu.be/pzed9l38VXU



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