As

Make a joyful noise to God, all the earth; sing the glory of his Name; give to him glorious praise.

Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds! Because of your great power, your enemies cringe before you. All the earth worships you; they sing praises to you, sing praises to your Name.”

⁌Ps 66:1-4⁍

Today, I'm reminded of a beautiful old Stevie Wonder song. Here are the words:

As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving,

and the rosebuds know to bloom in early May, 

just as hate knows love's the cure 

you can rest your mind assure 

that I'll be loving you always.

As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow, 

but in passing will grow older every day, 

just as all that's born is new,

you know what I say is true, 

that I'll be loving you always.

 

Always (until the ocean covers every mountain high), 

always (until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea), 

always (until we dream of life and life becomes a dream).

 

Did you know that true love asks for nothing?

No, her acceptance is the way we pay.
Did you know that life has given love a guarantee 

to last through forever and another day?

Just as time knew to move on since the beginning 

and the seasons know exactly when to change 

just as kindness knows no shame, 

know through all your joy and pain 

that I'll be loving you always.

 

As today I know I'm living,

gut tomorrow could make me the past,

but that I mustn't fear,

for I'll know deep in my mind 

the love of me I've left behind,

'cause I'll be loving you always.

 

Always (until the trees and seas just up and fly away), 

always (until the day X eight X eight X eight is four),

always (until the day that is the day that are no more).
 

Did you know you're loved by somebody 

(until the day the earth starts turning right to left)?
Always (until the earth just for the sun denies itself).
I'll be lovin' you forever
(until dear mother nature says her work is through), 

always (until the day that you are me and I am you), 

always (until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky, 

until the ocean severs every mountain high),  

always.

 

We all know sometimes life's hates and troubles 

can make you wish you were born in another time and space.
But you can bet your lifetimes that and twice it's double 

that God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed.
So make sure when you say you're in it, but not of it, 

you're not helping to make this earth 

a place sometimes called hell.
Change your words into truths,

and then change that truth into love, 

and maybe our children's grandchildren 

and their great grandchildren will tell
I'll be loving you until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky.

⁌Stevie Wonder, As ©1976 Songs in the Key of Life⁍

 

Help me, understand the immensity and eternity of your love, O God, and make my heart desire to fit its praise to who you are, what you've done, and what you're doing. Amen.

Babbling Brook

You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it; the river of God is full of water; you provide the people with grain, for so you have prepared it.

You water its furrows abundantly, settling its ridges, softening it with showers, and blessing its growth.

You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness.

The pastures of the wilderness overflow, the hills gird themselves with joy, the meadows clothe themselves with flocks, the valleys deck themselves with grain, they shout and sing together for joy.

⁌Psalm 65:9-13⁍

This is one of the most beautiful passages in the entire psalter. It is a psalm of thanksgiving, a song of praise for God's providence. Verse 9 sets the tone in two parallel sections:

1. Generally, the earth benefits from the visitation of God with water.
2. Specifically, the people of earth benefit from the river of God.

And this is what draws my attention this morning. The "river of God" mentioned in verse 9 is barely a river at all, but is in Hebrew פֶּלֶג אֱלֹהִים—more like "the rivulet of God" or God's brook. In this part of the country, we might be tempted to think of the mighty Tennessee River as the river of God, based on nothing more than its size. In my hometown in Kentucky, of course, the mighty river is the Ohio. But apparently God needs nothing so grand to bless the earth. A stream will do, merrily making its way through a land that was once parched, but is now filled with wildflowers and crops, where animals graze happily, and where humans can find pleasure—all because God has come in something small and cheerful. So what better than a babbling brook to remind me that when God was incarnate on earth, the divine Presence arrived as a tiny Baby, born in a stable, and placed in a manger to sleep.

May my reading of this passage today help me to look for God in the small things, confident that a little of what God blesses us with will go a long way.

Let me praise you for the phenomenal signs of your presence this day, O God. But let me not neglect to look for you in the little things. Help me therein to trace your mercy, your grace, and your providence from the minutest detail, to that which gives my life true meaning. And in my gratitude for what you have done and what you are doing, help me to share your blessings with others. Amen.

Out into the Unknown Universe

By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance, O God of our salvation; you are the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas. 

⁌Ps 65:5⁍

We commit sin, God responds with forgiveness and election and a sense of belonging (see Ps 65:3-4). And here in v. 5 God answers us with deliverance. God is a God of wholeness. And just as v 2 promised us that God's election was not for one nation alone, here we are reminded that the hope of God's deliverance extends to the far corners of the earth.

The psalms, though inseparable from the spirituality of a particular people, are also universal in their scope. They lead my eye from Abraham and Jacob and David to people yet unborn, assuring me that God's mighty deeds didn't stop at the end of the Book of Malachi, but continued on from the Gospel according to Matthew, to the Revelation to John, through today, and on into the the indefinite future. They are not the concern of a tiny corner of the Middle East, but spread throughout the world on both land and sea—and, if we're to believe the Apostle Paul, out into the unknown universe (see Rom. 8:21-22).

God, forbid that I should take lightly your promise to the ends of the earth. Help me to realize the immensity of what you've made me a part of, that I may sing your deliverance both in this life and in the life to come; in Jesus' Name. Amen.

The Scarlet Pimpernel

Rating: ⚄

Here's a book I had never imagined myself reading. Truth be told, though I'd heard the words scarlet and pimpernel used in succession,* I can't say for sure that I even knew they referred to a book. Nor did I know precisely what a pimpernel was. To my credit, I knew pretty much all along that scarlet was a shade of red.

So, The Scarlet Pimpernel is a novel published in 1905 by Emma Orczy, a Hungarian-born noblewoman who lived in London. But before it was a book, it was a popular stage play of the same name, also written by Baroness Orczy. Enough can't really be said about the influence this book had on popular culture, for it introduced an entire genre into English language literature: the hero with the secret identity (think Zorro, Superman, and Batman).

Happy Are Those Whom You Choose

When deeds of iniquity overwhelm us, you forgive our transgressions.

Happy are those whom you choose and bring near to live in your courts. We shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house, your holy temple.

⁌Ps 65:3-4⁍

Three things stand out in these two verses: the sinfulness of God's people, God's response, and our reaction.

1. First, our iniquity, it seems, is not simply what we do, but what we get mixed up in—often without knowing it. "Deeds of iniquity overwhelm us." They are more than the sum of our actions, but are indeed part of the very condition in which we live, the very water we're drowning in.
2. God's response, though, is twofold. First God forgives. And then God chooses. And it couldn't be more clear that God chooses based not on our merit, but simply based on grace. 
3. Finally, we move from where we were at the beginning—overwhelmed in a flood of sin that we seem unable to control—to being satisfied with the goodness of God that surrounds the chosen. Contentment, then, is a true mark of a child of God, reminding us, as the great 17th century Puritan minister Thomas Watson (pictured above) once said, that "the signs of salvation are in the saints, but the cause of salvation is in God."

I am overwhelmed by sin, Lord—my own sin, and the sin of the world from which I cannot insulate myself. Yet I thank you, that you do not find persons fit to be chosen, but through your grace, make the chosen fit to live in your house, content with your blessings and reaching out to the world, in Jesus' Name. Amen.

Weak Faith Is Made Stronger by Prayer

Hear my voice, O God, in my complaint; preserve my life from the dread enemy.

Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked, from the scheming of evildoers, who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows, shooting from ambush at the blameless; they shoot suddenly and without fear.

✙ Psalm 64:1-4 ✙

Calvin said that "the voice is heard in prayer, proportionally to the earnestness and ardor which we feel." This, in my opinion, is a very un-Calvinist thing for him to have said. For how can I make God's response to my prayer depend on the way I feel at the time I pray? The ideal, certainly, is that I pray from the bottom of my heart, as it were—to pray with complete and sincere feeling. But there are times in my life when it takes a great act of faith to pray at all, when the weakest, most doubtful voice is almost more than I can muster. Am I then to say, "God won't hear my prayer, because my faith this day is far from perfect"? or even "Now that I need God the most, God will hear my prayer the least"? No, weak faith is made stronger by prayer, and God perfects my imperfection, especially in the area of prayer. This is, in fact, scriptural.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 

 ✙ Rom. 8:26-27

When I am under attack from all quarters, when bitter words are hurled like darts at me, even from people I had counted among my trusted friends (and there isn't a pastor alive who doesn't understand this feeling), then it is especially comforting to know that God will hear my voice—be it raised confidently or humbly, filled with faith or replete with doubt—and bring hope where there was fear, life where there was death.

When I do not feel like praying, Lord, help me then to pray. And when I cannot pray at all, may your Spirit, which searches my heart, pray on my behalf; in Jesus' Name. Amen.

My Soul Clings

My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.

⁌Psalm 63:8⁍

The Hebrew verb דָּבְקָה of the first clause of this verse reminds me of a person-to-person defense in basketball. The soul in this case clings in a very active sense, such as basketball defenders do to the person with the ball or anybody who might end up with it. The soul is a veritable shadow of its object of devotion.

I think we might be satisfied to think of God as stationary, meaning the soul is inactive in its clinging. But God is ever on the move, creating new things, transforming old things, working for justice, making peace. For a soul to cling to God means the soul is truly committed. In other places my soul might be told to wait for God, but here, that's not what I picture at all: The waiting is over and my soul is moving and learning and is actively engaged in the world close by God's side.

But lest I think my soul must work to earn God's approval for its actions, the psalmist adds a caveat: Only insomuch as her or his soul is upheld by the Almighty. To be with God I must move with God, but to move with God, I must depend on God.

Uphold me, O God, that my very soul may reflect you in your every movement. Though you are the substance and I but a shadow, I pray that even the shadow you cast through me may be evidence of your presence in the world. Amen.

I Will Lift Up My Hands

So I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands and call on your Name.

⁌Ps 63:4⁍

"In the lifting up of hands, allusion is made to praying and vowing; and [the psalmist] intimates, that besides giving thanks to God, [they] would acquire additional confidence in supplication, and be diligent in the exercise of it. Any experience we may have of the divine goodness, while it stirs us up to gratitude, should, at the same time, strengthen our hopes of the future, and lead us confidently to expect that God will perfect the grace which he has begun."

⁌John Calvin⁍

I like the way Calvin moves from the lifting up of hands to the perfection of the grace begun. To lift one's hands is a sign of surrender, a sign of giving, and an invitation to weakness—for the raising of one's arms can't help but sap our strength. This threefold meaning of the lifting of hands therefore lends itself to the idea of sanctification, for perfection cannot occur without surrender, without giving all I have, and without a realization that in my weakness, I will discover God's strength.

I lift up my hands to you, O God, in prayer, in surrender, in invitation to make you my all in all. Amen.

Bolivar's Birthday

Simón Bolívar was born on this day in Caracas in 1783. In 1819 he became the first ruler of Colombia, which then encompassed all of present-day Colombia, Panamá, Ecuador, and Venezuela, as well as parts of Guyana, Brazil, and Perú. In addition, Bolívar is also credited with being the liberator of Perú and Bolivia. Bolívar died in Santa Marta on December 17, 1830. He was only 47.

A Dry & Weary Land

O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

⁌Ps 63:1⁍

The imagery on Psalm 63:1 is so vivid that it really needs very little explanation. When I am thirsty, I can think of nothing but drinking water. The thirstier I am, the more desperate I am for it. But when I am not thirsty, when my body is nice and hydrated, I seldom spare a thought for water. And so this psalm is, more than anything else, about the fact that God is missing from the psalmist's life. Yet the Psalmist notes what's missing at the core of her or his being.

This, I think, is affirmation of two things:

• First, that there are times in a believer's life when we do not feel God's presence. Whether this is a good thing or not, I won't say. But it's a simple fact. There is no reason to beat ourselves up over something that the Bible describes in such vivid terms as being part of the human condition. The psalmist—probably David himself—also felt this way. It's okay—the most important thing here is that I've noticed it and I'm willing to be open to change.
• And second, that just as the believer sometimes feels outside God's presence, God has planted within us a thirst for God such as the parched body feels toward water. I cannot speak for the non-believer, but I have yet to meet a person of faith who did not love God when God was close, and long for God when God seemed far off.

Great are you, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is your power, and of your wisdom there is no end. And I, being a part of your creation, desire to praise you—I, who bear about with myself my own mortality, the witness of my sin. Yet I desire to praise you—you move me to delight in praising you; for you have made me for yourself, and my heart is restless until it rest in you. Amen.

⁌Augustine of Hippo⁍

Dust in the Wind

Those of low estate are but a breath, those of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath.

Put no confidence in extortion, and set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, do not set your heart on them.

Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this: that power belongs to God, and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord. For you repay to all according to their work.

❧ Psalm 62:9-12 ❧

Today's portion of the psalms is intended to put things in perspective. At first glance, it seems little more than a precursor of Kansas' song that said, "All we are is dust in the wind." But just as Kansas had a bit more to say on the subject, so does this psalm: 

Now, don't hang on, 

nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.

It slips away, 
and all your money won't another minute buy.

Dust in the wind; all we are is dust in the wind

❧ Kerry Livgren ❧
 

Kansas was a band on a spiritual journey, but I don't think that journey had turned onto its Christian path by 1977 when this song was written. Perhaps if it had, there'd have been another stanza. But even so, Livgren's "all we are is dust in the wind" and "they are together lighter than a breath" share a message. And the idea that money adds importance or weight to our lives is specifically rejected by both the psalmist and the songwriter.

Where Dust in the Wind and the 62nd Psalm part company is the message of God's power and God's love—two concepts that are inseparable in the psalmist's eyes, but play no rôle in Kansas' song. The poor are insignificant and they know it. The rich think their wealth makes them significant, but they are, if anything, of less significance than the poor, because their delusion makes them even more pitiful. Kansas said that "nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky," but the psalm speaks of a God on whom the faithful can hang the hopes that the rich place in their money.

Verse 11 tells us that God has said it once, but the psalmist had heard it twice—in other words, God's word, once spoken, is eternal, but we need to read it, hear it, and think about it over and over to truly get the message. And what is the message? That both power and abiding love belong to God. If I would have either as part of my life, then I should turn not to material greed, but to the God who created all things.

Forgive me, Lord, for placing my trust in things that, in the end, don't matter. For such things simply weigh me down on my journey to you. Free me from distraction that I may find you, and free me from the weight of wealth that I may be wholly yours; in Jesus' Name. Amen.

A Leaning Wall

How long will ye imagine mischief against a man? ye shall be all slain; ye shall be as a bowed wall, or as a wall shaken.

✙ Psalm 62:3 ✙

That was the Geneva Bible. The NRSV renders the above verse this way: 

How long will you assail a person, will you batter your victim, all of you, as you would a leaning wall, a tottering fence?

This is very different from the Geneva Bible's translation, which I used at the top. I'm not talking about the difference between wall and fence, which is relatively minor, but about what the wall and/or fence and/or dam (which might be what the Hebrew actually means) are being compared to. In the NRSV, it's the victim, but in the Geneva Bible, it's the oppressors.

Here's how I would translate this verse:

How long will you continue your assault on a person? You shall all be killed, as a tottering wall, a dam about to give way.

The point is that, in the Hebrew, it's evident that the weak structure isn't the righteous person under attack, but the structure that's threatening him or her. 

Though it's probably not exactly what the psalmist intended, I like how Calvin interprets these words:

"Some think that the wicked are compared to a bowing wall, because it threatens every moment to fall to the ground, and they, upon every sin which they commit, tend more and more downwards, till they are precipitated into destruction. But it would seem as if the allusion were somewhat different. A wall, when ill built, bulges out in the center, presenting the appearance of nearly twice its actual breadth; but, as it is hollow within, it soon falls to ruins. The wicked, in like manner, are dilated with pride, and assume, in their consultations, a most formidable appearance; but David predicts that they would be brought to unexpected and utter destruction, like a wall badly constructed, and hollow in the interior, which falls with a sudden crash, and is broken by its own weight into a thousand pieces."

It is pride then that causes the wall to bow. And the aspect of it that seems most intimidating is the very thing that is its greatest weakness. The real danger is being anywhere near it when it self-destructs under its own weight. And such is the way of evil people. Their greed or their lust for power causes a great apparent swelling. But can they stand under their own weight?

Though evil seems bigger than life, I know that you stand between your little ones and those who are so swelled with pride and greed and violence. Protect them when it all falls to pieces, and may the new life that arises from the ruins be lived according to the principles of your realm. Amen.

Yet My Soul

Yet my soul keepeth silence unto God; of him cometh my salvation.

✙ Psalm 62:1 ✙

I'm using the Geneva Bible today to render what I think is closer to the true meaning of Psalm 62:1. The NRSV begins, "For God alone..." but the Hebrew word translated here as "alone" (or "only") is actually "but" or "nevertheless" or "yet." The Psalmist, like Martha in the kitchen, is distracted by many things. We can almost picture, just before Psalm 62 opens, that she has been rebuked by the Lord, who shows her a better example: 

Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.

—Luke 10:41-42

Hence the sudden beginning, as though we're already in the middle of a thought. "[I am distracted by too many things,] yet for God, my soul will keep its peace—only God can be the source of my wholeness."

I hope to remember this today and in the future. When I am distracted or overwhelmed, it's never too late to start out a prayer with a But....

But it's for you that I will keep still, Lord. Only you can make me whole, and only you can see me to the end of my journey. So for you I will wait, lest I be tempted to come to my own end. Amen.

Doña Gloria y Don José

Today is Colombia's Independence Day, so to Doña Gloria Inmarse Sivle from Don José Cañucí: ¡Feliz Día de la Independencia!

🇨🇴 P.S.
🇨🇴 It all started over a flowerpot in Bogotá somehow.

As I Journey

Let me abide in your tent forever, find refuge under the shelter of your wings.

✙ Psalm 61:4 ✙

Israel came to know God while they were still a pilgrim people. Long before there was a temple of wood and stone, there was a tabernacle—a tent that could be carried from place to place—in which God was said to dwell. Longing for God was expressed, then, as dwelling in God's tent, even while the pilgrim was on the move The faithful felt as secure and happy there as a baby bird under the shadow of its parents' wings.

Christians, too, are a pilgrim people, and know the tabernacle not as a tent, but as a body—the body of Christ, the church. No song captures the connection between the Hebrew discovery and the Christian experience of God's presence better than this song written by the Roman Catholic Petites Sœurs de Jésus (here sung by Anabaptists):

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey;

I'll tell everybody about you wherever I go:

you alone are our life and our peace and our love.

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey.

Lord Jesus, I'll praise you as long as I journey;

May all of my joy be a faithful reflection of you.

May the earth and the sea and the sky join my song.

Lord Jesus, I'll praise you as long as I journey.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant,

to carry your cross 

    and to share all your burdens and tears.

For you saved me by giving your body and blood.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant.

I fear in the dark and the doubt of my journey;

but courage will come 

    with the sound of your steps by my side.

And will all of the family you saved by your love,

we'll sing to your dawn at the end of our journey.

And if that song comes close, then perhaps this prayer by the Anglicans of New Zealand comes even closer:

God, you have given us a lodging in this world but not an abiding city. Help us, as a pilgrim people, to endure hardness, knowing that at the end of our journey Christ has prepared a place for us. Amen. 

—A New Zealand Prayer Book

To the Rock

From the end of the earth I call to you I call to you when my heart is faint.

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I; for you are my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.

⁌Psalm 61:3⁍

Oh! sometimes the shadows are deep,
and rough seems the path to the goal,
and sorrows, sometimes how they sweep
like tempests down over the soul.
O then to the rock let me fly,
to the rock that is higher than I!

Oh! sometimes how long seems the day,
and sometimes how weary my feet!
But toiling in life’s dusty way,
the rock’s blessèd shadow, how sweet!
O then to the rock let me fly,
to the rock that is higher than I!

Then near to the rock let me keep
if blessings or sorrows prevail,
or climbing the mountain way steep,
or walking the shadowy vale.
O then to the rock let me fly,
to the rock that is higher than I!

 ✙ Erastus Johnson (1871) ✙

Whatever my lot, be it wearily sad,
or actively busy, or joyously glad;
in each joy and sorrow, my God, be thou nigh—
oh, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

✙ R.A. Searles ✙

Out of Bowshot

You have made your people suffer hard things; you have given us wine to drink that made us reel.

You have set up a banner for those who fear you, to rally to it out of bowshot.

✙ Psalm 60:3-4 ✙

These two verses are a bit odd, but I think I can make sense of them. In the garden, Jesus prayed that God would "let this cup pass from" him, referring to the agony of the crucifixion. The idea that our difficulties are a lot that has been given to us like a cup of wine, then, is not unheard of, even to those who have never studied Hebrew idioms. But here it is expressed in a psalm which refers to the difficulties God either lets us suffer or sends our way: they are like a cup of wine that makes us "tremble"—which is a better translation of תַּרְעֵלָה (tremor or tremulous) than "reel" in my opinion. I wonder if Bonhoeffer wasn't thinking of Psalm 60 when he penned these beautiful words:

And when this cup you give is filled to brimming   

with bitter suffering, hard to understand, 

we take it thankfully and without trembling,   

out of so good and so belov'd a hand.

The next verse is very different from those which preceded it, and stands in stark contrast to the bitter cup of suffering. I picture Hamlet's "to be or not to be" speech when he was contemplating suicide:  

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 

And by opposing end them?

The person of faith, though, has an option that others may not realize even exists. In the battlefield of life, there has been raised a banner, just out of bowshot, which we may run to to find safety. Faith in God may not remove us from the battlefield—indeed it is God's will that we remain engaged—but when we are overwhelmed, we need not give in, and we need not fall. For me as a Christian, the emblem of safety is nothing other than the Lord's Supper. There I eat the bread that strengthens me for the journey, and drink the cup that makes my steps firm.

When the storms of life are raging, Lord, stand by me to uphold me, beneath me to keep my steps firm, before me to show me the way, and above me as a banner of safety. Amen.

In the Morning

I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning.

But I will sing of your might; I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been a fortress for me and a refuge in the day of my distress.

✙ Psalm 59:16 ✙

Verses 16 and 17 are a further demonstration of why Psalm 59:9 is incorrectly translated in most modern versions of the psalms. Verse 9 refers to "his strength"—note the ending on the Hebrew word: עֻזּוֹ. While v. 16 has a different ending, indicating "your strength": עֻזֶּךָ, in v. 17, there's another ending, rending it "my strength": עֻזִּי. 

I don't really want to talk about that this morning, however. I just wanted to show how valuable it can be to look at the Bible in its original language. What inspires me this morning is morning itself. The psalter portion appointed for the day I was born* says that "weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning" [Ps. 30:5b], and that pretty much describes what's happening in Psalm 59:16. The danger is real, but even in the midst of dire threat, the psalmist is able to affirm that s/he will be singing for joy at sunrise. The protection offered by God in the time of distress is so real that, even before reaching safety, the psalmist celebrates what's to come.

I suppose this could be dismissed as the power of positive thinking if we were to take it out of its original context. But the context is so fraught with danger, so full of bad news, that it's not exactly possible to accuse the psalmist of "positive thinking" when most of the psalm appears to be so negative. Happiness in God, therefore, isn't found in denying reality, but in incorporating the bad news I experience into the promise of good news to the faithful.

Keep me true to you, O God. Transform me not into a Pollyanna who sees only the positive, but into a David who keeps the faith when all else seems to have gone wrong. If my present is filled with danger, pain, or sadness, help me through your word to remember victories of the past and to look forward to the coming victory in Jesus Christ my Sovereign. Amen.

*Okay, so I'm the one who did the "appointing"—but all systems have some origin, after all.

I Will Entrust His Strength

O my strength [sic], I will watch for you; for you, O God, are my fortress.

✙ Psalm 59:9 ✙

This is a very strange verse. At some point, modern translations seem to have agreed that "strength" must refer to God, and that the pronoun should be the first person singular. But the Geneva Bible (and the KJV after it) thought otherwise. Calvin himself preferred this translation: I will entrust his strength to thee... Indeed, the Hebrew should not be rendered as modern translations seem to prefer, for it speaks of "his strength" not "my strength."*

The reason as Calvin sees it is that the psalmist is in Psalm 59 speaking of threat, and in this case, the threat is from Saul. This interpretation seems clear enough, but there's a problem: Verse 9 is the only place where the enemy is spoken of as he. Everywhere else, the enemy is they.

Still, I think I prefer the old translations, which are much closer to the Hebrew. When I translate it the way it appears to be intended, I can acknowledge the strength of another—and sometimes it's a strength that threatens me—but I can hand that strength over to God. God isn't just muscle or persuasiveness; God is an entire fortress of strength.

They are strong, Lord, but you are stronger. I know of their muscle, I acknowledge their silver tongues, but I entrust it all to you. Just as I pray that your will will be done in me, I pray that you will use others to accomplish your purpose. Whether their strength is benevolent, benign, or bad, it is yours to do with as you will. Amen.

*I'll talk a little bit more about this tomorrow.

Benediction for July 15

Around the symbol of our church
are these words of Jesus:
That they may all be one.
We are sent into the world this day
as a living answer to Christ’s prayer,
united in loving thought and service,
and striving for a world where,
through the power of the Spirit,
all acknowledge each other as brother and sister,
children of one heavenly Parent.
Therefore in ✙ the love of God,
the grace of Jesus Christ,
and the communion of the Holy Spirit,
we go forth to be the church in the world. Amen.

Pastoral Prayer for July 15

We thank you, O God, for the signs of hope
you grant us on a daily—even a moment-to-moment—basis.
In the glory of creation we see your abiding presence.
In the love of family, friends, and church
we experience your constant nurture.
And in the victories we witness, we still experience your miracles.
We are especially mindful this morning
of a group of children in a country far away
who were reunited with their families as the world looked on.

Hindrances

Read Acts 11:1-18

✑ It is written that he was born when his parents were on a trip to Bethlehem. Since there was no room in the inn, his mother is said to have given birth to him in a stable, where his first bed was a feeding trough. And when he reached out for someone, all he wanted was for his mother to fulfill his needs.

He grew up in Nazareth, the son of carpenter. He was exposed early on to the traditions of his people—even going to the Temple in Jerusalem as a boy. On the way back home, he got separated from his family and so when he needed to reach out to someone for safety, he returned to the Temple. And the teachers there responded, fascinated by this boy’s insights and the intelligence of the questions he asked.

Surely There Is a God

Do you indeed decree what is right, you gods? Do you judge people fairly?

No, in your hearts you devise wrongs; your hands deal out violence on earth.

—Psalm 58:1-2

We no longer hear much about Asherah and Baal, Osiris and Isis, Marduk and Ishtar. There's just not that much of a temptation for modern day believers in the God of Israel to kneel before them. But we have other gods: greed, power, money, lust, capitalism, militarism. But because we don't acknowledge them as gods, we don't realize that we worship them.

But make no mistake—it is by their hand that war, injustice, and oppression is meted out on earth. The ancients at least their gods gods. We're incapable of even acknowledging it, because our gods are such an integral part of our lives that they have, in fact, become us. And the inequality and violence that we have created in their names is astounding

The 58th Psalm offers a solution, but it is not a pleasant one. This solution involves the oppressors receiving what they've been dishing out, a turning of the tables. When people say, as they do at the end of the psalm, “Surely there is a reward for the righteous; surely there is a God who judges on earth,” it is because they see vengeance taken upon the wicked. 

I thank God that at the center of my religion is grace. But if the world refuses to turn from the path it is currently on, no one can assume that we are due the grace offered by Christ in the New Testament.

I pray to you, Lord, 'deliver us from evil,' and yet I seldom acknowledge that I have already fallen prey to temptation, and that it is my own evil that I need deliverance from. Forgive me my selfishness and for constantly making 'heroes' out of those whose work involves weaponry. Deliver me into a broad place where all are free, where all are safe, and where we all work together for justice; in Jesus' Name. Amen.

The Storming of the Bastille

🎼 Today is France's national holiday, commemorating the Storming of the Bastille on July 14, 1789.

Among the Peoples

I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing praises to you among the nations.

✙  Psalm 57:9 ✙ 

There is, I suppose, more than one way to thank God among the peoples and to praise God among the nations. In my setting, the most obvious way is to make known to people who may not be persons of faith that I am a disciple, and that I attribute the good in my life to God.

In some (many?) settings, this might, in fact, be counterproductive. To talk about God in a society in which people calling themselves Christians advocate racism and bigotry might close more ears than it opens. And so thanksgiving and praise might better be expressed through sharing with others the goodness I have received before I utter a word about my religion.

The problem is, I am too often guilty of using neither method of fulfilling my duty.  Sometimes I am not grateful; at other times I lack courage. I need to pray:

O God, make me more thankful, so that my heart overflows with gratitude and praise. And make me more courageous that I may be the hands of Christ in a world of suffering. And give me a spirit that can discern when I need to speak and when I need to act; in Jesus' Name. Amen.

Awake the Dawn

My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast. I will sing and make melody.

Awake, my soul! Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn.

✙ Psalm 57:7-8 ✙

To be awake at sunrise and sing the psalms not only arouses the soul, but welcomes the day in a way that nothing else can, for, as Calvin put it, "one who is really awake to the exercise of praising God... will be unremitting in every part of the duty."

Eternal Father of my soul, let my first thought today be of thee, let my first impulse be to worship thee, let my first speech be thy Name, let my first action be to kneel before thee in prayer. Yet let me not, when this morning prayer is said, think my worship ended and spend the day in forgetfulness of thee. Rather from these moments of quietness let light go forth, and joy, and power, that will remain with me through all the hours of the day. Amen.

—John Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer

Over All the Earth

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens. Let your glory be over all the earth.

✙ Ps 57:5 ✙

I'll take my cue from Bishop Andrewes this morning. Though he's not the only one who connects this phrase—repeated again later in Psalm 57—with the ascension of Christ, I think his prayer (below) does so most eloquently. 

The exaltation mentioned here isn't my exaltation. It is heaven's exaltation of that which is far beyond it... or else it is God's exaltation of the divine Self. I cannot properly exalt that which is so far above the only world I know.

But in the ascension, something happened. The Word-Made-Flesh was himself taken to that place of exaltation. And that flesh was my flesh. The One who united himself to me in the incarnation was glorified and brought into the very presence of the Exalted One.

It cannot be said that God, in such an exalted state, does not care. For in Christ, God has shown more than care. Nor can it be said that God does not understand, for in the suffering on the cross, God's understanding of my lot goes far beyond my own.

I am satisfied with your mercy in the morning, O Lord. Blessed are you, O Lord, who brought forth from the water creeping things of life, and whales, and winged fowl. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens, and your glory above all the earth. By your ascension, O Lord, draw us after you, that we may taste of what is above, not of things on the earth.

—Lancelot Andrewes

Napoleon Complex

This one unexpectedly made me spew the coffee I was drinking.
☺︎
Doctor: So who claims that you're Napoleon?

Husband: God told me!!

Wife: No I didn't!!

🇫🇷 I think it was made all the more amusing because Audible had a sale recently on Great Courses, and I bought and listened to the one on the French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars, so it seemed very timely to me.

In the Shadow of Your Wings

In the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, until the destroying storms pass by.

✙ Ps 57:1 ✙

"Hiding with God is not dwelling in his tent, or knowing the secret grace of the hidden walk. Hiding never indicates a fixed condition, but always something transient. We seek shelter from a thunderstorm, in order presently, when the sun shines again, to step out from our hiding-place, and continue on our way. Little chickens hide with the mother hen, when a water-rat is around; but when it is gone, they run out again. And the soul of him who knows God, hides with his Father, as long as trouble lasts; but when it is overpassed, there is no more need of hiding. Hiding in God is not the ordinary, but the extraordinary condition of a single moment "Until these calamities be overpast" (Ps. 57:1), or as said in Is. 26:20, "Until the indignation be overpast." 

"But even he who fears God, does not hide with him in every time of need. Trouble and care are upon us all the days of our life. The cross must be taken up each day anew. But as a rule the child of God calmly pursues his way in the assured confidence of Divine protection. He knows that God fights for him, that God is his shadow, that as his good shepherd he leads him, and that when too violent an assault threatens, God covers him with his shield. He then dwells with God, and God does not leave him to himself. All this is the daily, ordinary activity of faith, the operation of God's faithfulness, and of the trust of his child."

—Abraham Kuyper (1837-1920)

O Lord our God, under the shadow of thy wings let us hope; protect us, and carry us. Thou wilt carry us both when little, and even to hoar hairs wilt thou carry us; for our firmness, when it is thou, then is it firmness; but when our own, it is infirmity. Our good ever lives with thee; from which when we turn away, we are turned aside. Let us now, O Lord, return, that we may not be overturned, because with thee our good lives without any decay, which good art thou; nor need we fear, lest there be no place whither to return, because we fell from it: for through our absence, our mansion fell not—thy eternity. 

—Augustine of Hippo (354-430)

Happy Birthday, John Calvin

🎼 I greet thee, who my sure Redeemer art,
my only trust and Savior of my heart,
who pain didst undergo for my poor sake;
I pray thee from our hearts all cares to take. 

🎼 Thou art the King of mercy and of grace,
reigning omnipotent in every place:
so come, O King, and our whole being sway;
shine on us with the light of thy pure day.

🎼 Thou art the life, by which alone we live,
and all our substance and our strength receive;
sustain us by thy faith and by thy power,
and give us strength in every trying hour.

🎼 Our hope is in no other save in thee;
our faith is built upon thy promise free;
Lord, give us peace, and make us calm and sure,
that in thy strength we evermore endure.

—John Calvin

The Widows of Malabar Hill

Rating: ⚅

❦ I usually enjoy stories about British India, and I think the main reason is the unity in diversity that's often portrayed in them. It's difficult to think of one that doesn't include Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Zoroastrians, and Christians, all involved in a joint struggle for dignity and the possibility of self-rule.  The Widows of Malabar Hill by Sujata Massey (New York: Soho, 2018), calling itself "a mystery of 1920's Bombay," is no exception to this stereotype I've somehow created. 

The main character in Widows is Perveen Mistry, the only female solicitor (lawyer) in Bombay, who also happens to belong to an ethnic and religious minority called the Parsi—people who came from Iran centuries earlier and who practice the Zoroastrian faith. We experience two periods of Perveen's life, which, though separated only by about five years, are vastly different. 1921 Perveen is a respected and able attorney recently returned from her studies in England. This Perveen first tries to help three Muslim widows understand their rights, then gets involved in solving a mystery involving a murder in the widows' home. 1916-17 Perveen is a young woman who's been driven from her initial studies in Bombay by misogynistic professors and fellow students, fallen in love, and then found that her new husband was not the man he'd represented himself to be. Both the mystery and the personal struggle are compelling stories, and (naturally) they come together in the end.

Massey's writing is excellent, the plot is fascinating, and Widows provides an opportunity for learning about India in general and Perveen's people in particular. I highly recommend this book, which rolls a ⚅.

Tears in a Bottle

You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record?

✙ Ps 56:8 ✙

People are uncomfortable with pain. The average person will attempt to minister to those who are experiencing it at the moment—though some are better than others—but few want to relive it with you... unless they're being paid to listen to your problems. And so most of us, when pain is past, keep the memories of it to ourselves. But God remembers with us, and just as we haven't forgotten the sleepless nights and the tears shed, neither has God. Both our best times and our worst are alive in the One who created us, who gave us emotions, and who makes us not pain-free, but whole: for there is no such thing as wholeness for a person who denies the difficulties of life.

The hairs on my head are numbered, and every tear I've ever shed is recorded by you, O God. Heal my memories, my relationships, and my brokenness, for I pray to you, the God of life, in the Name of the One who came that I may have abundant life. Amen.

Have Mercy

Be merciful unto me, O God, for man would swallow me up: he fighteth continually and vexeth me.

✙ Psalm 56:1 ✙

It's often frustrating how wordplay in one language is impossible to render in another. The opening of Psalm 56 is a great example. 

On close inspection, this psalm is somewhat confusing. Or at least its first verse is. The problem lies with the translation of the Hebrew word שְׁאָפַנִי, which some modern translations render as tramples me, but which the Geneva Bible translated conditionally as would swallow me up (the KJV mimicked the Geneva Bible in this). Geneva more literally translates the Hebrew, so I am using it this morning. One of the odder pieces of evidence that the old translation was the correct one lies in the word לֹחֵם, which the NRSV appears to omit completely, using only one verb—oppress—in the final clause, when the Hebrew uses two. לֹחֵם refers to fighting, but its more literal meaning is closer to devouring, since לחם without the points (vowels) would in most instances be translated as bread. Calvin (probably accidentally) reïnforces all this angrily gluttonous imagery by calling it "insatiable rage."

Normally, it would be best to take Psalm 56:1 at face value in whatever translation I'm reading, since the meaning is pretty straightforward: Somebody's asking for God's help because they're in immediate danger. But the language used is so colorful that I couldn't help but think how the plea for mercy and all the devouring going on also sounded like the language of love.

My first exposure to Robert Palmer was way back in 1976 when I saw him on a TV show called The Midnight Special. I liked the song he sang (Man Smart, Woman Smarter) so much that I bought the album (Some People Can Do What They Like). And on the album was a song called Have Mercy. I don't know what happened to that album, but I thought of this song when I read this morning's psalm. In both the psalm and the song, there's a plea for help and the need is immediate. If the plea is not answered, things will go south, and there'll be no turning back.

I suppose it may seem trite to compare the situations, but for most people on most days, I think the analogy is the best we can hope for. Both are situations where we have lost control and we depend upon another to have mercy, to put an end to our agony. Whether it's a plea to God for mercy because we're in trouble, or a plea to another for mercy because we're in love, we have to go outside ourselves for salvation or redemption. And that's the point here. 

I need you God. I cannot do for myself what I know you can accomplish on my behalf. Have mercy on me, save me, make me whole, in Jesus' Name. Amen.

On Human Dominion

✑ Nobody in Europe knew it at the time, but a plague was spreading across the steppes of Central Asia in the 1340’s. It was devastating the eastern flank of the Tatar Empire, even while the Tatars were trying to expand their empire in the west. In their westward movement they came upon a Genoese colony on the Crimean Peninsula called Kaffa in the spring of 1347. But as they lay siege to Kaffa, certain of their imminent takeover, something unexpected began to happen. The Tatars all began to die. It was a horrible death caused by some pestilence they didn’t understand. But they did see that it was contagious. And so before the last healthy men gave in to this unknown disease, they catapulted the bodies of the dead into the walled city of Kaffa. Whether or not there were survivors, we don’t know. Maybe the few remaining Tatars retreated, or maybe there were no remaining Tatars.

The Genoese inside the city celebrated their miraculous victory and thanked God for sparing them from the Tatars—thinking, no doubt, that the pestilence that wiped out their enemies was a divine gift.