Just a few weeks ago, at the beginning of July, we took a trip down into the Smoky Mountains, and while we were there, we made the trip up to Clingmans Dome. I had been there before, but this was the first time I had ever made the trip all the way to the top. Ezra and Merrie went all the way up with me, and I can tell you, it is definitely a climb.
You drive up the mountain for quite a while, but eventually you reach the parking area, get out of the car, and then you still have to walk that final stretch to the summit. And it doesn’t look all that intimidating when you first start. You can see the paved path in front of you and think, “That doesn’t look too bad.” But it just keeps going up. And up. And up. You start noticing everybody else slowing down too. People are stopping along the side, catching their breath, taking a little break, and then starting again.
Well, everybody except Merrie.
Merrie apparently did not understand that we were supposed to be tired. While everybody else was slowly making their way up the mountain, she was running. She would run ahead of us, turn around, run back down toward us, and then run back up again. She did this over and over. So while the rest of us were making one trip up Clingmans Dome, I’m pretty sure Merrie made about three. All the time talking and singing.
And people were watching her. You could see them staring at this little girl running back and forth up this mountain while the adults around her were trying to remember how breathing worked. There seemed to be absolutely no depletion of energy. I don’t know where she was getting it, but she certainly wasn’t sharing it with the rest of us!
Eventually we made it to the top, and once you reach the summit, you discover that you’re still not finished. There is an observation tower there with this long walkway that spirals upward even farther. So after climbing the mountain, you start climbing again.
When we finally reached the top of that tower, we were literally standing in a cloud. Normally, from that observation deck, you can look out across miles and miles of the Smoky Mountains. That day, there wasn’t much of a view at all. We had climbed all that way, and all we could see around us was clouds.
But standing there made me think about something.
There is something different about an ascent. You don’t get to the top all at once. You get there step by step. Sometimes you can see where you’re going, and sometimes you’re walking through a cloud. Sometimes the climb feels easy, and sometimes you have to stop and catch your breath. But you’re moving upward. You’re progressing toward a destination.
And when it comes to climbing. We are going to look at two Psalms from one of my favorite sections from the book of Psalms.
If you have your Bibles this morning, I want you to turn with me to Psalm 127 and Psalm 128. These two Psalms sit side by side, and I believe they belong together. Both of them speak beautifully about the home and the family, but before we get into what they say about the family, I want us to understand where these Psalms are located and why that matters.
Psalm 127 and Psalm 128 are part of a collection of Psalms known as the Songs of Degrees, or the Songs of Ascents. Psalms 120 through 134 all carry some form of that title. They were associated with the journey of God’s people as they went up to Jerusalem to worship. Jerusalem sits at a high elevation, so no matter which direction you approached it from, you were going up to Jerusalem. The journey to worship was literally an ascent. Some also teach that there are 15 steps in the temple at this time and as the priests stood on each step entering up into the temple on feast days, they would sing the psalms of ascent in order..
The Bible repeatedly describes our lives in terms of forward movement. Sometimes Scripture calls it a walk. Sometimes it is a race. Sometimes God’s people are described as pilgrims and strangers. The idea is that we are going somewhere. We are not supposed to remain spiritually where we started. We are walking with God, and as we walk with Him, He is changing us.
Now imagine these Jewish pilgrims making their way toward Jerusalem. And somewhere along that journey they would sing the words of Psalm 127 and Psalm 128. Right in the middle of their journey toward the house of God, they sang about their own houses. They were called to examine their homes as a way to grow closer to God.
That’s what I want us to think about on this Family Day. Psalm 127 and Psalm 128 give us a picture of what happens when God builds the house. Psalm 127 begins with one of the clearest statements in all of Scripture concerning the home: “Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it.”
That’s where everything has to begin.
God Must Be the Builder
Psalm 127:1 says, “Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it.” Notice that the verse doesn’t say there aren’t builders. There are people working. There are people laboring. There are people making plans and putting things together. And, don’t think it’s just men building the house. Proverbs 14:1 says “Every wise woman buildeth her house..” The problem is that all of their labor can ultimately be in vain if God is not the One building the house.
There is a tremendous difference between building a house and building a home. We know how to build houses. We can build bigger houses, prettier houses, more comfortable houses, and smarter houses than probably any generation before us. We can fill them with conveniences that our grandparents could hardly have imagined. But none of those things can build a godly home.
You can have a beautiful house and a broken home. You can have every convenience imaginable and still have no peace. You can have money in the bank and still have a spiritually bankrupt family. You can give your children everything this world says they need and fail to give them the one thing they need most: a home that is built upon Jesus Christ.
Paul says in 1 Corinthians 3:11, “For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” God is the Builder, and Jesus Christ is the Foundation. If we get that wrong, it doesn’t matter how impressive everything above the foundation looks.
Jesus gave us the picture of two men who built two houses. One built his house upon a rock, and the other built his house upon the sand. What’s interesting is that from the outside, those houses may not have looked very different. But then the rain came. The floods came. The winds blew and beat upon those houses. Suddenly, what had been hidden underneath became the most important thing about them.
That’s how life works. Storms reveal foundations.
Every family will eventually encounter storms. There will be sickness. There will be disappointment. There will be financial pressure. There will be disagreements. There will be seasons when you don’t know what to do next. Children will grow up and make decisions you cannot make for them. Parents will age. Loved ones will die. Life will change. The question isn’t whether storms will come. The question is what our homes are sitting on when they arrive.
That’s why the Psalmist says, “Except the LORD build the house…”
You can work yourself to death trying to hold everything together, but ultimately you cannot take God’s place. You can guide your family, but you cannot control everything that happens to your family. You can prepare, plan, teach, protect, work, save, and sacrifice, and you should do all of those things. But at the end of the day, you have to recognize that God is still in control.
There is actually freedom in understanding that. I am called to be faithful, but I am not called to be God. I am supposed to labor, but God must give the increase. I am supposed to build, but I must build according to His plans and upon His foundation.
And when God builds the house, Psalm 128 begins to show us what that house looks like.
When God Builds the House, the Man Is Blessed
Psalm 128 begins, “Blessed is every one that feareth the LORD; that walketh in his ways.” Then verse 2 says, “For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee.”
Before the Psalm talks about the wife, before it talks about the children, and before it describes everybody gathered around the table, it begins with an individual walking with God.
I want our men especially to hear this today: the greatest need your family has from you is your personal walk with God. We sometimes think the greatest thing we can do for our families is provide more. So we work more hours. We pursue the promotion. We try to make a little more money. We want the better house. We want to make sure the kids have what everybody else has. There is certainly nothing wrong with working hard and providing for your family. Scripture commands us to take that responsibility seriously. But there is something your family needs more than another dollar in the bank.
They need you to walk with God.
Your children need to see that Jesus Christ is not simply Someone you talk about on Sunday. Your wife needs to know that the man she is building a life with is seeking the Lord. Your family needs to see you pray when you don’t know what to do. They need to see you open the Word of God. They need to see you make decisions based upon conviction rather than convenience. They need to see that your faith is not merely something you profess; it is something you practice.
Jesus said in Matthew 6:33, “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” We quote that verse often, but don’t miss that little word first. There is an order to the Christian life. God does not want to be another item on the list. He wants to be first.
The greatest need my family has from me is not for me to solve every problem. I can’t. It isn’t for me to know every answer. I don’t. The greatest need my family has from me is for me to personally pursue God.
Because if I am pursuing God, it will affect how I treat my wife. If I am pursuing God, it will affect how I speak to my children. If I am pursuing God, it will affect what I prioritize. If I am pursuing God, it will affect what happens when I get angry, when I’m disappointed, when I’m tired, and when things don’t go my way.
And the Psalmist says that man is blessed. Psalm 1:1-3, “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper”
When God Builds the House, the Wife Flourishes as a Vine
Psalm 128:3 says, “Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine by the sides of thine house.” love the picture Scripture gives us here. The Psalmist compares the wife to a fruitful vine. For us, that might not immediately mean very much. But to the people who first sang this Psalm, the picture would have been familiar. A healthy vine was valuable. It produced fruit. It provided beauty. It could spread along the side of the house and become part of the character of that home. There is a tremendous picture of marriage in that.
A vine also requires care. They would train it along their house walls, inside and out, and along the walls. A healthy vine needs support. It needs something strong enough to hold it up as it grows. Left completely unsupported, the vine can end up sprawled along the ground where it becomes vulnerable to damage.
A husband cannot make his wife flourish. Only God can ultimately produce spiritual fruit in another person’s life. But a husband can certainly help create an environment where flourishing is encouraged. He can support her. He can protect her. He can honor her. He can make sure that his home is a place where she knows that she is loved and valued.
Men, sometimes we need to ask ourselves a difficult question: Is my wife flourishing alongside me? Not merely surviving. Not simply enduring. Flourishing. Does my presence make it easier for her to become the woman God has called her to be? Does she know I support her? Does she know I value her? Does she know that I am for her?
A vine also adds beauty. It becomes an ornament to the house. It transforms something plain into something living and fruitful. The Psalmist doesn’t picture the wife hidden away and insignificant. He pictures her as a fruitful vine that brings life and beauty to the house.
Proverbs 31: 10-31, “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants’ ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.
A vine provided protection. When I was at Mount Vernon, one of the things that most impressed me the garden vineyard. Along the wall, the vines didn’t just grow wild, but they were cut and grafted into perfect looking squares. I was amazed at that. The vines of the house would grow and be grafted in ways to cover windows and other areas, providing a type of protection against thieves. As Titus 2 says, “Keepers at home,” speaking of the protection they provide to the family.
When God Builds the House, Children Are a Heritage
Psalm 127:3 says, “Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.”
I love the language God uses there. He calls children a heritage. He calls them a reward. Children are a gift from God. They are a blessing entrusted to us. And because they are entrusted to us, we are called to steward them.
Now, anybody who has raised children knows that children being a blessing doesn’t mean parenting is always easy. Sometimes blessings keep you awake all night! Sometimes blessings make messes. Sometimes blessings talk back. Sometimes blessings cost a lot of money. Sometimes blessings break your heart.
Parenting is hard work. But the Bible doesn’t call children convenient. It calls them a heritage. And I think that word is especially important. A heritage is something that goes beyond you.
Our individual lives are short. The Bible repeatedly reminds us of that. Our lives are compared to grass that grows and then withers. James says our life is like a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. No matter how long God allows us to live, our time here is temporary. But our influence doesn’t have to end when our lives end.
Our children go on beyond us. That’s heritage.
I will not always be here. Neither will you. One day somebody else will sit in our seat. Somebody else will live in our house. Somebody else will do the work we are doing today. But if God has entrusted children to us, there is an opportunity for something of our faith to continue long after we’re gone.
And Psalm 127 gives us another picture. Verse 4 says, “As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.” Think about an arrow for a moment. An arrow doesn’t become useful accidentally. It starts out as a stick. The people in that day couldn’t go to sporting or hunting stores. It has to be shaped. It has to be straightened. It has to be prepared. An arrow that is crooked isn’t going to hit the target regardless of how skilled the archer may be.
There is a shaping that takes place in parenting. We teach. We correct. We discipline. We encourage. We pray. We model. We repeat ourselves over and over and wonder if anybody is listening. We’re shaping arrows.
But here is the part about arrows that parents sometimes struggle with: arrows are not made to stay in the quiver. An arrow is shaped so that eventually it can be sent. Our children are not ours to keep forever. God places them into our hands for a season, and during that season we have the responsibility to prepare them. But eventually we release them.
And when we release them, we are not simply sending them away. We are sending them on mission. An arrow allows an archer to reach farther than his own arm could ever reach. That’s what I want for the next generation. I don’t merely want our children to preserve what we had. I want them to take the Gospel farther than we did. I want them to serve God beyond the places we reached. I want their faith to accomplish things ours never had the opportunity to accomplish.
They go beyond us. That’s heritage. Then Psalm 128 gives us yet another image. Verse 3 says, “Thy children like olive plants round about thy table.” Olive trees were incredibly important in the biblical world. They could live for generations, and around a mature olive tree, young shoots could begin to grow. Those shoots represented the next generation springing up from the established roots.
What a picture of the family. You have the established tree, and then you see the young shoots growing around it. Different generation. New growth. But connected to the same roots.
That’s what I want for my family. I don’t need the next generation to look exactly like my generation. They’re going to live in a different world. They’re going to face challenges we never faced. They’re going to have opportunities we never had. But while they may be new growth, I want them connected to the same roots.
I want them rooted in the same Gospel. Rooted in the same Word of God. Rooted in the same Jesus Christ. Rooted in the same faith that was handed down to us. The methods may change. The world certainly will change. But the roots cannot change.
And notice where those olive plants are in Psalm 128. They are “round about thy table.” There is something wonderfully ordinary about that picture. This isn’t a picture of a church service. It isn’t a revival meeting. It isn’t a great spiritual conference. It is a family gathered around a table.
Because much of the spiritual formation of our children happens in the ordinary moments of life. It’s what they hear us talk about around the table. It’s what they see when something goes wrong. It’s how Mom and Dad treat each other. It’s whether we forgive. It’s whether we pray. It’s whether the Bible we carry to church affects the way we live when we get home.
We sometimes underestimate the spiritual power of an ordinary, faithful Christian home.
Conclusion: Lord, Build This House
Now as we end, think of it again. As the hebrew families journeyed to Jerusalem, they were to stop and think about their families. On our journey, we are to reflect on how we are leading our homes.
Our children are growing. Our circumstances are changing. Years are passing more quickly than we realize. The little ones around the table won’t always be little. One day the arrows will leave the quiver. One day the olive shoots will become mature trees with shoots growing around them.
So while we have this moment, we need God to build the house.
Maybe there are some husbands here today who need to say, “Lord, before I try to fix everybody else in my family, work on me. Help me fear You. Help me walk in Your ways. Help me seek first Your kingdom.”
Maybe there are husbands and wives who need to say, “Lord, help our marriage do more than survive. Help us flourish. Help our home bear fruit.”
Maybe there are parents who need to look at those children God has entrusted to them and remember: these children belong to God before they belong to me. They are a heritage of the Lord. My job is to steward them, shape them, point them toward Christ, and prepare them for the day when God sends them farther than I could ever go.
Maybe there are grandparents here today who need to remember that your influence isn’t finished. There are still olive shoots growing around the tree. There is another generation watching you, listening to you, and learning from your faith.
And there may be somebody here whose family doesn’t look like the picture in Psalm 128. Maybe there has been loss. Maybe there is an empty chair at your table. Maybe a marriage ended. Maybe a child has wandered. Maybe there are wounds in your family that nobody else in this room knows anything about.
“Except the LORD build the house…”
God builds with imperfect people. God restores broken things. God strengthens weak foundations. God works in situations we cannot fix ourselves. And that brings us right back to the beginning.
Who is building your house?
Because I don’t want to spend my entire life building something only to discover that I built it in vain. I don’t just want God to be welcome in my house. I want God to build my house.
I want Jesus Christ underneath everything as the foundation. I want my walk with God to affect the people closest to me. I want my marriage to flourish. I want my children to become arrows sent farther than I could ever go. I want the next generation to grow from roots planted deeply in Jesus Christ.
And someday, when my part of the journey is finished, I want there to still be somebody walking up the road behind me.
Still carrying the faith. Still loving the Word. Still serving Jesus. Still building upon the same foundation. Because when God builds the house, we’re not simply building something for today. We’re building something for another generation.
So perhaps the prayer of every family in this church today ought to be very simple:
“Lord, build our house.” Build our marriages. Build our children. Build our grandchildren. Build our faith. And whatever You have entrusted into our hands, help us build it upon Jesus Christ so that our labor will not be in vain.
*Sermon preached at Christ Open Bible as guest evangelist for their Family Day service, 8/9/26.
Jeremy Kamer Ministries 