Psalm 77

Here's the text: Psalm 77


Psalm 77 ups the Lenten ante.

Now not only am I surrounded by enemies, but as I cry to God, God seems absent, even to have changed. I cannot find God.

I cry aloud, as if God were far away or hard of hearing. I cry day and night, searching for God in the darkness with outstretched arms. I think of God, moan for God. I can't sleep.

Then I turn inward, meditating and searching my spirit, communing with my heart in the night, the darkness. Perhaps God is hidden deep within my spirit or my heart.

Then these thoughts:

“Will the Lord spurn forever,
    and never again be favorable?
8 Has his steadfast love ceased forever?
    Are his promises at an end for all time?
9 Has God forgotten to be gracious?
    Has he in anger shut up his compassion?"
10 And I say, “I grieve
    that the right hand of the Most High has changed.”

It makes me sad, but my experience indicates that YHWH has changed. Why else would he not be found by such an earnest and righteous seeker as I? Why else would YHWH not come to me in my hour of need?

What to do? God is not within me. Searching my soul to find God is a dead end. I cannot find God by meditating on my spirit or communing with my heart. Meditation seems only to continue the "dark night of the soul."

The Psalmist offers another path: Stop looking inward and start looking outward. Return to scripture. Recall the deeds of the Lord. Remember God's wonders of old. Remember God's big story. Don't focus on your present darkness and your inability to conjure up some evidence of God's presence. Trust God's big story.

The question is not, "Where is God in my story?" The question is, "Where am I in God's story?"

And here's another tip about trying to find God: Even when God parted the sea, he left no tracks. His footprints were unseen. What was seen was Moses and Aaron leading through the sea as their enemies bore down on them, because they knew where they and the people of Israel were in God's story. They did not stop to commune with their hearts or meditate and search their spirits; they stepped into the path through the sea in faith. They stepped into God's story.

Psalm 25 (further thoughts)

1. Good poetry is specific. Good liturgical poetry is specifically generic. For example, when the Psalmist writes "Do not remember the sins of my youth," he is referring to a specific genus of sins (sins of his youth), neither his sins in general but also neither a particular sin of his youth. Thus, when this Psalm is recited or sung by the congregation, each person can find him or herself in the text. You know your youthful sin. I know mine. We can recite together "Do not remember the sins of my youth" and mean it individually and communally. Brilliant liturgy. Specifically generic.

2. In the previous post I asked "Is the enemy without or within?" and I answered, "Yes." I am the enemy, but I also want to be clear that we do have real, external enemies, enemies who wantonly seek to do us harm. We do. But the point of the psalm, I think, is that we must never forget that we are not without sin. We cannot, then, wantonly cast stones (or drones!) at our enemies, thanking God that we are not like those evil sinners. Our primary act is to repent and wait on God, to trust God, and to resist taking matters into our own hands.

And these real enemies can cause us to lose sleep, not because of who they are or what they do, but because God seems not to notice them or our plight. God seems absent.

And that takes us to our next post on Psalm 77.

Psalm 25

Psalm 25 (NRSV)

Something's wrong.

My enemies are afoot. They exult, they gloat over me. They are wantonly treacherous. They betray me. I am lonely and afflicted in their midst. My heart is troubled. I am distressed in my afflictions and my troubles. My foes are many and they hate me with a violent hatred. They do not wait in fear for God to act on my behalf; instead they wait for me to be shamed by God's inaction on my behalf. They mock me. They mock God.

This I understand. I understand it now more than I ever have before. I hear it today with my whole being, like that pulsing sub-subwoofer in that annoyingly stup-stupid car at the never-changing stop-stoplight.

So what, according to this Psalm, should I do? I should repent of my sins. MY sins. I should turn to God's ways. Me. Not my enemies. Me. I should lift up my heart, my soul, my true self, to YHWH, and seek his mercy and forgiveness for my sins, for the transgressions of my youth. I should seek pardon for my guilt, for it is great. I should worry about my integrity and my uprightness. I should ask the Lord to show me his ways, to teach me his paths—because evidently I have lost my way. I should choose to fear the Lord. I should humble myself. And then I should wait for God.

All this must I do lest I become an enemy to my enemies.

This I do not want to understand.

Which makes me wonder: Are my enemies without or within?

Wait. Do not answer too quickly, even though you know the answer. Let me think, even though I know the answer, too.

Wait. Lent is a time of introspection.

Introspect.

Now, then. The answer is—

yes.

Something is wrong. I am.

So far, I have to say, I'm not enjoying Lent all that much. (I hope my enemies aren't either.)

We're At It Again...

After nearly two years of silence - since Easter Sunday of 2013 - it is time for revival. Gary and I are resurrecting (pun intended) this blog as we journey through the season of Lent. We will be reading the daily lectionary passages over the coming months and regularly reflecting on all that God is teaching us through this time of exploration. So check in with this blog often as we meander toward Easter - and hopefully you will be encouraged, informed, and inspired along the way.

I thought I would begin by posting the church newsletter article I just wrote, since I reflect on Lent, why it is important to me, and what I am hopeful for during this season. Enjoy!

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The Lenten Journey

I didn’t grow up following the church calendar or observing church seasons such as Advent and Lent. That was a ‘Catholic’ thing to do. I grew up thinking that these practices were just mindless, superficial traditions that had no significance and were simply faithless religion. But over the years, as I have spent time in the Methodist, Episcopal, and Disciples of Christ denominations, I have come to really love and appreciate these spiritual rhythms. I find such depth, meaning, and significance in journeying through these liturgical seasons.

Thus, I am incredibly excited about the beginning of Lent. Far from being mindless, superficial religion, I find the Lenten season to be a time of even greater spiritual engagement. Lent is a time of examination. Of exploration. Of self-reflection. It is a time to think deeply about our humanity and God’s divinity; our sin and God’s grace. Lent is a time of repentance – which always requires a great deal of humility and self-examination. It is the willingness to name our brokenness and seek healing and wholeness that can only come through God’s sacrificial act of love.

So, during the coming month of Lent, I hope we will all have the courage to dive into the meaning and potential of this beautiful, sacred season. Lent is traditionally a time of both giving up old things and taking up new things. Maybe there is some destructive tendency that keeps weighing you down and this is finally the time to put that in the past. Maybe there are distractions in your life that are keeping you from really entering into God’s presence and Lent can be the time to give those things up – at least for a season. Or maybe there are practices or rhythms or behaviors that you have been wishing were part of your daily or weekly regimen – well, now’s the time. I sincerely pray that this Lenten season will be one of incredible significance for us all – a time where we draw close to God, hear the beckoning voice of Jesus, and allow the Spirit to guide and direct us into deeper love and service of both God and the world.