Psalm 119 I Shall Walk at Liberty

 

Observation: Psalm 119 is the longest psalm by far (and the longest book of the Bible). Depending on how many essays and footnotes you've got in your Bible, there's a good chance if you open it smack in the middle, you'll find yourself somewhere in Psalm 119. And the whole thing is a love song devoted to God's law. The verse today that really has grabbed me and won't let me go is: "I shall walk at liberty, for I have sought your precepts." We tend to think of liberty as the absence of rules and regulations. But the psalm  writer insists that there is a deeper freedom in choosing to seek God's way, intentionally, each day. 

Application: Free will is a blessing and a curse. It's nice on paper to know we can make choices, but then there's the whole part where we have to take responsibility for them. It's cool, at first, to know that our actions have an impact on the world around us. But then, there's the part where our actions do actually, you know, have an impact. On the world around us. This gets intimidating. You can go down the rabbit hole of the "butterfly effect," where a butterfly flapping its wings on one side of world, by a chain of cause and effect, can create a tsunami elsewhere. If a butterfly can do that, then what consequences, intended and unintended, might my choices have? Like I said, freedom is a blessing and a curse. That's why I resonate with Psalm 119:45, where the psalmist finds liberty in seeking God's commandments. To have a guide, even if we don't always follow perfectly, is so much better than being adrift. To have Jesus' greatest commandment in mind, loving God above all and loving my neighbor as myself, sets me free from the constant worry and doubt about the impact I'm having. Sure, I will often fall short. And even more often, there will be unintended consequences of what I think of as love for my neighbor. But those consequences can bring lessons in themselves. And in the meantime, there is grace. 

Prayer: God, thank you for your law, which shows me the way to go, and reminds me I can never do it perfectly. Help me to treasure it, for it continually drives me back to you. Amen.  

Psalm 98 Make a Joyful Noise

 

Observation: One of my favorite psalms of praise to God. Sing God a new song. Make a joyful noise. Join the whole world, even the creation itself, in the praise of God's victory. 

Application: I miss being able to sing in church. Being a pastor, I have had to be the one to break many pieces of bad news to members of my congregation this year, but one of the hardest has been that singing together indoors just is not safe. I'm not sure where people get the idea that church leaders, because we are the face of hard decisions, somehow relish making them. That's silly. It is the nature of being an adult to make decisions you aren't fond of and stick to them because they're the right thing to do. I miss singing as much as anyone. I can't wait to get back to it. I am pretty sure every song we sing will sound like a "new song" when we are able to start congregational singing again. 

But the "new song" for me today comes in the closing verses of Psalm 98: "let the sea roar and all that fills it; the world and those who live in it. Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy..." The new song is the song we can tune into when human voices keep their peace for once, and understand that God's creation gives God praise nonstop, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Jesus proclaimed that if his followers fell silent, the very rocks would cry out. This verse began to hold special meaning for me when Michi-Lu-Ca, the camp where I met and married my wife, closed for good. We who had known it as a special place remembered that the rocks on that land would take the watch from here, and continue to lift up praises. 

If you miss singing as much as I do, drive on down to the sleeping bear dunes. Listen to the waves. Hear the wind whipping through the last few autumn leaves. Tune into the song of the birds as they prepare for a long trek south. Then maybe sing a bar or two in the fresh air, and give thanks that we are part of a larger song than any of us cares to notice most of the time. 

Prayer: God, we praise you and adore you. Not just us humans. All of us. Help us to listen to one another's voices in the quieter moments. Amen. 

Revelation 18:21-24 When It All Breaks Down

 

Observation: Revelation 18 is a vision of God's destruction of the great city of Babylon. In Revelation, Babylon is a symbol of coercive power. In particular, in chapter 18, John talks about economic power. In an economy where human lives are traded like goods, and people weep more over losing wealth than losing lives, God brings the whole system to a grinding halt, turning Babylon into a ghost town. 

Application: I'm not sure if there's a non-confrontational way to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I see aspects of the Babylon of Revelation in our economic system today. I see the dominant spiritual struggle in our time to be valuing human lives more than we value income and wealth. We're in an economy that's more globalized than it's ever been, but we're also more disconnected from each other than ever before, such that we can buy a piece of clothing for a deep discount, and not give a second thought to the fact that the person who made it may be living on less than a dollar a day, and the person who sold it to us may be working full time and still living on food stamps. This to me is the heart of what Jesus was revealing to John of Patmos as "Babylon." 

That said, I do not read Revelation as saying there's only ever one "Babylon" in history, and its end signals the end of the world. Babylon is a mindset that we have fallen prey to time after time. Time after time, God's Spirit has told us to "come out of Babylon", so that we don't take part in the natural consequences that happen when a dehumanizing system grinds to a halt. Just as John's listeners were urged to take a critical eye at the Roman system, we are urged to take a critical eye at our own system. For me, this simply means taking a step back, and examining how I spend my time and money. Do I feel at home in Babylon? Or am I feeling the call to "come out", and find better ways to love my neighbor with every dime I spend (or don't spend)? 

Prayer: Jesus, call us out of Babylon. Help us remember our true citizenship is in your reign of love and justice. Amen.   

John 6:25-35 The Works of God

 

Observation: Jesus just fed five thousand people by multiplying loaves and fishes. They want him to do it again. They want him to teach them to "do the works of God." Why? Because they're hungry. Jesus spiritualizes the moment and tells them the "real" food is his presence and his teachings, and the real work of God is to believe in him. 

Application: It's very typical of Jesus in John's Gospel to do a miracle that gives material help to someone, like healing or feeding, and then use it as a teaching moment to point to a deeper spiritual truth. Honestly, sometimes that rubs me the wrong way. If I were a first century peasant, with no guarantee that I knew where my next meal was coming from, and Jesus just demonstrated the ability to feed five thousand people with five loaves and two fish, I'd be a little let down by a lecture that "spiritual food" is more important. But I'm not a first century peasant. I'm a middle class white American Christian, living in a world that has known for a full generation that we could eliminate hunger if we wanted to...but we don't. For me, and probably for you, the existence of physical hunger is actually a spiritual problem. Put another way, if every person of faith in every wealthy nation was getting proper spiritual nourishment--if we prioritized being fed by Jesus, who is the Bread of Life--I honestly think extreme poverty in this world would become a thing of the past. If we were getting the spiritual nourishment we need from Jesus, who blessed the poor, we would become the blessing that they so sorely need. The obscene inequalities we see growing deeper and deeper by the day, the fact that many people of faith are totally okay with that, means we are delirious with spiritual hunger. And Jesus wants to feed us. It's time to come to the table, so all may eat. 

Prayer: Jesus, may those who lack food have it, and may those who have enough food hunger for justice. Amen. 

Philippians 3:13-4:1 Our Citizenship

 

Observation: Paul has just listed all the ways in which he ought to be proud of his own cultural and religious credentials. he has done everything right, followed every rule, attained every outward reward from his religious system. yet he counts it all as rubbish compared to knowing Jesus Christ. Now, he invites his readers to imitate his behavior and attitude, and put the quest to know and connect with Jesus above any other human endeavor. 

Application: Our citizenship is in heaven. Our first loyalty and allegiance is to Jesus Christ. Many Christians would say this, but to really live it out the way St. Paul and others have is harder. It's one thing to intellectually say, "I put Jesus first," but when Jesus has things to say about how we should spend our money, how we should relate to our family, what our priorities should be in the workplace, or the ballot box, a certain kind of cognitive dissonance sets in. We do lots of mental gymnastics to explain and justify why Jesus would think like we do. Surely Jesus would want us to put our own creature comforts first, or keep our money in our pockets instead of using it to help others. Surely he would admire who we admire, and hate who we hate. Surely he would want us to place loyalty to a nation or a political party so high that it borders upon worship. 

To be a citizen of heaven is to stop making excuses, and stop assuming Jesus wants us to conform to the attitudes we see around us. It means forgetting what lies behind: trying to shed a lifetime of cultural assumptions about what a good person is. It means straining forward to what lies ahead: asking Jesus each new morning, who do you want me to be?

Prayer: Jesus, renew my citizenship in your Reign. Help me to be your subject, an ambassador for your way in the world. Amen.  

1 Peter 5:1-5 Celebrating Elders

 

Observation: This passage seems to be directed at young leaders in the church. Tend the flock, do not lord your authority over others, and accept the authority of elders.

Application: Pastoral authority is something that every leader deals with, when to stand firm and when to go with the flow, when to provide comfort and when to hold others to account. I was ordained at twenty six. I have struggled mightily over the years with feeling truly accepted as a leader. Still, my experience pales in comparison with stories I hear from pastors who are women (regardless of age) and people of color. The reality is you can do and say everything exactly right and some folks still will not respect you. The measure of your leadership has to be from the true Shepherd, not just from how people are treating you. That said, I will always support the authority and leadership if colleagues because we need to have each other's back. This is a tough calling. 

Thirteen years in ministry has also transformed my attitude when it comes to "accepting the authority of elders." It's no secret that most churches are older in average age than the surrounding population. While I still think churches should set a goal of doing every kind of ministry they can with young people, at this point I celebrate that our church has many members who have lived long lives. I learn every day from seniors in church. Over the years they have taught me about faith, humility, priorities, pain, grief, and how to grapple with our own mortality. There is no other place but a religious community where I could have learned these lessons in such depth. And I dare say, I'd recommend it to anyone, even if your faith is a little shaky now.  Sharing life together with folks further down the road than you is a treasure. 

Prayer: God, thank you for elders. Thank you for their experience, their joy, their wisdom. Help us to honor them. Amen. 

Psalm 144 Praying For, Not Against

 Observation: This is a psalm attributed to King David, and it's a truly interesting one. It begins by humbly admitting human frailty: "what are human beings that you are mindful of them?" So far, so good. But then it makes a bizarre leap of logic. "Since we humans are so frail and transient, it would be that much easier for you to smite my enemies with fire and lightning, so please do that." Well, that didn't go as I expected. But once that chunk is over, David begins to pray for prosperity and abundance in Israel.  

Application: Is it okay to pray against an adversary? Despite Jesus' command to "pray for those who persecute you," we see many prayers in psalms like this one, where God's people seem to be doing just that. In our increasingly divided nation, I have heard Christians jokingly use Psalm 109:8 to "pray for" a president with whom they disagree. "may his days be few; may another seize his position." (I have heard this "prayer" aimed both at president Obama and President Trump). But as one of those pesky pastors who insist on reading things in context, I need to remind folks that verse 9 goes on, "may his children be orphans, and his wife a widow." It is a prayer for an adversary's death. 

Even though Psalm 109 is in the Bible, I  can't justify any prayer for death for any individual, no matter how much suffering they have caused. But what I appreciate in Psalm 144, despite its call for divine smiting, is that it eventually comes around to the result David hopes for. Yes, he's a human king, and wants his enemies dead. But what he wants more is health and prosperity for his nation. Healthy children, barns full of produce, plentiful livestock, peaceful streets. That's David's goal. Maybe with God's help, in that time and place, David can get as far as loving his people more than he hates his enemies. Maybe in our own time and place, with the guidance of Jesus, who prayed for his own enemies even as they were crucifying him, we can get farther.

The last thing I want to do is shame people for feeling how they feel in these intensely traumatic times. Maybe what we can manage right now is, "Your Kingdom come, Your will be done." And we know from the life of Jesus that God's kingdom includes better healing, more inclusive community, and a deeper kind of prosperity and justice than we humans could have envisioned on our own anyway. If you are struggling in your prayers, I'm going to pray for you today. 

Prayer: Jesus, help me to act like you, and especially pray like you. I pray it in your name. Amen.