Security in Christ - Psalm 48

Where is your place of safety? Where do you feel most secure? For many of us it’s behind the front door of home. The world outside can feel chaotic and exhausting, but once that door closes, you relax. You’re home. You’re safe. For others, safety isn’t a place but people: a spouse, a close friend, parents—those with whom you can finally let your guard down.

That sense of relief reminds me of an experience this summer when our family did a house swap with an American pastor. While there, I was taken to a gun range. It was well managed and, in many ways, enjoyable—but every so often it struck me that I was standing in a small room with a dozen people holding weapons capable of killing me instantly. When I walked back out into the open air, I felt a wave of relief. I was back in a place of safety.
Psalm 48 asks us a deeper question: where is your ultimate place of security?

1. A Picture of our security in Christ

At first glance, Psalm 48 is about God—and also about a city. The city is Mount Zion, another name for Jerusalem, the great walled city where the temple stood. In the Old Testament, Zion could mean the hill, the city itself, or even the people and leaders who lived there. The psalm celebrates Jerusalem as beautiful, elevated, and secure. Enemies assemble against it and are driven back. The reader is invited to walk around the city, to admire its towers and ramparts, and to marvel at its strength.

But this psalm is not really about a city. It’s about God. Jerusalem is secure only because God is present there. As the psalm concludes, the point becomes clear: “that this is God, our God forever and ever. He will guide us forever.” The city’s strength comes entirely from him.

More than that, for us today, the city points beyond itself. Like so much in the Old Testament, Zion is a signpost. It points forward to Jesus Christ. As Colossians tells us, these things are shadows; the substance belongs to Christ. The mountain matters because the city is on it. The city matters because the temple is in it. And the temple matters because it is the place of God’s presence and sacrifice—the place where sinners could draw near to a holy God.

At the heart of the psalm we read, “We have thought on your steadfast love, O God, in the midst of your temple.” That temple points us to Jesus, God with us, and to his ultimate sacrifice on the cross. As we are invited to admire the security of Zion, we are really being invited to consider Jesus. Psalm 48 is a picture of our security in Christ.

2. The Beauty and Joy of our security in Christ

Zion is not only secure; it is beautiful and joyful. It is “the joy of all the earth,” the city of the great King. God’s presence brings gladness, not because he is permissive, but because he rules. Joy flows from his righteous judgments, from his firm opposition to evil and chaos.
This corrects a dangerous presumption—that God simply exists to forgive us on demand. God is not our servant; he is our King. The only safe place to be is with him, though we do not deserve to be there. Astonishingly, in Christ, he makes a way. For those who are in Christ, there is real beauty and deep joy in knowing we are secure in him.

3. The Security of our security in Christ

When God is present, the city cannot be overpowered. Kings assemble, but they panic and flee. Applied to us, this means that all who are in Christ are utterly secure. Life may be hard. Opposition may be real. But nothing and no one can tear us from him. Even death cannot do that; it only brings us more quickly into his presence.
As Hebrews says, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?”

4. Security in Christ – So What?

Psalm 48 calls for a response.

Dwell on our security in Christ. We are invited to slow down, to “walk about” Christ, to consider carefully the safety, love, and grace that are ours in him.

Praise for our security in Christ. This psalm overflows with praise, joy, and gladness. God deserves our joyful worship, not as a duty but as a delight.

Sharing our security in Christ. We are to reflect on these things “that you may tell the next generation.” Knowing Jesus is never meant to stop with us. We are called to make him known—to our children, our communities, and a world longing for a true place of safety.

Let us dwell on this security, praise God for it, and prioritize sharing it. Christ is our security, now and forever.

You can watch the whole sermon below, read the full text, download the service sheet (with outline).