Pondering Connections within God's Story and the Biblical Story and Our Various Human Stories
Be merciful to me, O God, for in you my soul takes refuge…
I lie down among lions that greedily devour human prey;
their teeth are spears and arrows, their tongues sharp swords…
Psalm 57 couples with the stories and visions from the book of Daniel during this Living in The Story reading week. Although the traditional setting places it during the time of David’s trials, we also see Daniel in the poet’s cries of complaint and praise.
Continue reading “Psalm 57”Have you ever been in a den of lions?
You are called in to your boss’s office and when you open the door, there is your department supervisor and the head of HR. It feels like you are walking in to a lions’ den.
You are sitting at your dining room table with bills piled high. There’s another stack of letters too: the eviction notice, the termination date, the warning that they will soon take the car back. You’re surrounded with troubles that are tearing you apart.
You are at the bedside of your loved one. The door opens and here comes your doctor and the consultant and the charge nurse and the chaplain. You know that life is about to close in on you.
You are in a church Board meeting and – out of the blue – people who love each other start clawing and tearing at each other. You can’t believe your ears. What could possibly be so important that Christian friends would devour each other? You wish an angel would show up and shut all their mouths.
Whatever the particular lions’ dens that have threatened you over the course of your life, whatever the details, we all can say we’ve been there, done that.
And I’m guessing – on the other side of all these troubles – many of us might say, like Daniel: “God saved me.”
Maybe God hasn’t saved us in exactly the same way, not in the way our storyteller describes – but somehow, in some mystery – we knew we were not alone.
We knew we found strength beyond our own strength, wisdom beyond our own wisdom, endurance that we never could have imagined.
And we know – God was somehow in it all, walking with us, carrying us, leading us, nudging us, protecting us.
Continue reading “In the Lions’ Den”The hand of the LORD came upon me. He brought me out by the spirit of the LORD and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones.
He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry.
And God said to me, “Mortal/son of man, can these bones live?”
Ezekiel 37
As African American slaves tilled the sandy soil of the South, they often sang spirituals taken from images of Scripture.
Dem bones, dem bones gonna rise again,
Dem bones, dem bones gonna rise again,
Dem bones, dem bones gonna rise again,
Now hear the word of the Lord!
Can you imagine how dry the bones of these weary people must have felt? How hopeless their lives must have seemed?
But the vision of Ezekiel gave them hope: “these bones gonna rise again!” Maybe not here, maybe not now but someday.
It’s a similar kind of hope Ezekiel’s own nation of Israel held as they were captives in Babylon. Ezekiel’s Vision offered an alternative future.
“Can these bones live?” the Lord asked Ezekiel. “Lord, you know,” he tactfully replied.
And – Lord knows – Israel did return to their homeland to rebuild their holy city. The people came to life again.
Centuries later, Mark’s Christians endured the assault of Rome upon that same holy land. Once again, the city was leveled and the Temple destroyed.
Jesus’ followers remembered that he had promised to come again; (now would be a good time, they must have been thinking.)
But – no – difficult times dragged on and on.
Hearing again the stories of Jesus, remembering how he taught that things come to fullness in their time; hoping again in the God whose ways may be hidden but who is ever at work in the most ordinary events of our lives: would they have the ears to hear and the eyes to see this grace?
Would they, too, hold on to hope?
Surely the words and experience of their ancestor, Ezekiel in Exile, helped them hold on.
Continue reading “Visions, Parables and Poetry”The songs of pious pilgrims are collected together in Psalms 120-134. These Songs of Ascent offer a glimpse into the ancient community of Israel: how faith and faithfulness infused their lives.
Imagine pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. Imagine the gradual gathering of more and more travelers joining together as the roads drew closer to the Holy City. Imagine the final ascent up the hill of Zion where the Temple shone bright in the morning sun. Imagine the joy, the wonder and the deep sense of community these pilgrims must have experienced.
Now imagine them singing these psalms of ascent as they ascended toward Jerusalem, their shining city on a hill.
Ancient editors grouped the hymns into this collection near the end of Book Five toward the close of the psalter. They are short, easily memorized, often characterized by a call and response participation.
They sing of personal faith or family life or national pride.
And their pilgrim faith assumes God as the Source and Center of all.
Pilgrims traveled to Jerusalem for three holy feasts each year: in the spring and in the fall.
Three times a year all your males shall appear before the Lord your God at the place that he will choose: at the festival of unleavened bread, at the festival of weeks, and at the festival of booths.
They shall not appear before the Lord empty-handed; all shall give as they are able, according to the blessing of the Lord your God that he has given you.
Deuteronomy 16
Spring brought the most holy celebration of Passover, the remembrance of their rescue from slavery in Egypt. Exactly seven weeks later, the celebration of First Fruits reminded them of the grace of living in a settled homeland. Fall brought Sukkot, a re-enactment of their wilderness wanderings that brought back vivid recollections of the Lord’s meticulous faithfulness.
The pilgrims’ anticipation of these high holy days was amplified by sharing together these traveling psalms, the gathering hymns found in the Songs of Ascent.
Psalms scholar, J. Clinton McCann considers the purpose of the ancient editors as they formed this collection of hymns.
This collection was likely used by ordinary persons on the way to or on arrival at Jerusalem. The juxtaposition of psalms reflecting the daily concerns (Psalm 123-126; 130-132; 134) makes sense in the context of festal celebrations, where individuals and families from all over would have been brought together by loyalties that transcended the personal and familial.
Modern day Jews – sans the Temple, priesthood and sacrificial system – continue to celebrate these ancient feasts with notable theological and national enlargements.
Along with the biblical feasts, numerous other high holy days have developed over the centuries, festal celebrations “where individuals and families from all over [are] brought together by loyalties that transcend the personal and familial.”
Time honored traditions and purposes find fresh expression in new generations, thus accomplishing the hopes of pilgrims sung across many ages.
A friend of mine posted pictures of his visit to Auschwitz. The scenes are chilling, gut wrenching. There are so many powerful, profound stories of Holocaust survivors that still cause my heart to ache.
How did they hold on to hope in such a time?
The Christians of Asia to whom John wrote of his revelation lived in constant fear within the Roman Empire. Confessing Jesus Christ as Lord (instead of the emperor) labeled them as traitors and subversives. We’ve heard of the atrocities of Nero, the economic persecutions and even martyrdom of many who would not deny their faith in Jesus.
How did they hold on to hope in such a time?
The Jews of the Exile for whom Isaiah and Jeremiah wrote lived far from their homes as captives of Babylon. Their Temple was destroyed, their holy city lay in ruins. Every family had lost someone in the war and the memories of destruction and defeat continued to break their hearts.
How did they hold on to hope in such a time?
Sometimes I feel so discouraged and powerless. Some days I feel almost completely hope-less; I can hardly bear to hear the daily news:
Continue reading “Holding on to Hope”O Lord, how many are my foes!
Many are rising against me; many are saying to me: “There is no help for you in God.”
Psalm 3 offers a powerful demonstration of faith functioning without sight.
We know (in theory) that faith never comes with clear vision or guarantees. Even so, how often do we want reassurance of favorable outcomes before we allow ourselves to trust?
It is oh so easy to let our feelings of despair and hopelessness overwhelm our intellect instead of finding the tricky balance between our head and our gut.
Emotions serve as a valuable gauge about what is going on within us. Our feelings serve as signals, alerts that something very real is rocking or roiling deep inside us.
But our mind, our thinking, our cognitive abilities must oftentimes provide an important counterweight to our feelings.
Whole humans seek to keep head and heart in good balance. This is what we see in our psalmist: he counters his feelings of despair with his affirmations of faith.
Continue reading “Psalm 3”Biblical descriptions about God’s anger abound throughout Scripture. As a matter of fact, the entirety of the prophetic works reflect Israel’s understanding of the wrath and judgment of the Holy One.
Sometimes we moderns hear the phrase “wrath of God” and assume that wrath is directed toward us personally.
We get this tendency honestly, I think. Our Western ways of thinking are highly individualistic and traditional Western theology sets us up for these kinds of guilt ridden responses.
When I was in seminary, I wrote papers on Martin Luther and John Calvin, both famous and influential theologians from the 1500’s. They both were really big on emphasizing God’s wrath, God’s anger because of human sinfulness.
“God loved us even as God hated us…,” one of them said.
“No description can deal adequately with the gravity of God’s vengeance against the wicked…” another insisted.
The Reformers thought this way not to foster a sense of hopelessness within us. But yes, they did want us to feel guilty.
Continue reading “Righteous Anger”
The Lord sits enthroned upon the praises of his people.
Isn’t that a lovely thought ?!
It comes from Psalm 22.
But interestingly, Psalm 22 is actually a powerful lament … one we associate with Jesus’ passion.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me….?
Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.
So this raises an important question:
The Psalms teach us how.
In the Psalms, we can learn how to pray, how to express our thanksgiving and how to ask for what we need. Here we also learn how to name our doubts and anger; to give language to our disappointment and grief.
And here – in the Psalms – we grow to understand how praise is absolutely crucial to the life of faith.
Continue reading “Reflections on the Psalms”Psalm 110 sings confidence: Israel’s God upholds Israel’s king.
This royal psalm celebrates the king as the one anointed to rule and empowered to vanquish all of Israel’s enemies.
This famous psalm also seeds the tradition that understands God’s anointed one to be “prophet, priest and king.”
Living in The Story takes a second look at this important psalm and how it nurtures Christianity’s prophetic imagination.
The LORD says to my lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool.”
Much of our Bible assumes a violent culture in the ancient world of its origins. Armies and battles, victories and defeats, walled cities and calls to arms defined daily life for many of these nations and their inhabitants.
For Israel, Yahweh God became the quintessential warrior god.
From the Lord’s overwhelming defeat of the army of Egypt to the conquering of the Promised Land to the the establishing of David’s monarchy, God was seen as One who went before them in battle to save and secure Israel.
The LORD sends out from Zion your mighty scepter: Rule in the midst of your foes…
From the womb of the morning, like dew, your youth will come to you.
In the imagination of Israel, Zion was God the King’s ultimate dwelling place: the holy throne situated in the highest heavenlies.
Thus everything built in the Temple signified and symbolized these invisible heavenly realities.
Even though Israel often used the words “Zion” and “Jerusalem” interchangeably, the city and the Temple were always and only physical metaphors that pointed to the spiritual unseen-ness of God’s presence in Zion.
Psalm 110 sees Yahweh the King as the Source of an eternal divine authority that establishes Israel’s kings with a consequent divine authority.
(Jump to the New Testament and recall that Luke also used Psalm 110 as a basis for his Christology of kingship. In Acts 2, Peter’s Pentecost sermon sees the Risen Christ as heir to David’s throne: The LORD says to my lord: “Sit at my right handuntil I make your enemies your footstool.”)
But here is a twist: along with kingship, the psalmist of 110 claims Israel’s kingly leader also is a priest.
Continue reading “Psalm 110 (another look)”This phrase “prophetic imagination” is from Walter Brueggemann, one of my favorite Old Testament scholars.
Brueggemann’s academic writings come across as poetic and passionate. His deep insights of ancient texts inform current understandings of our own world, and thus Brueggmann has become one of our modern day prophets.
Unpacking the prophetic imagination is especially helpful as our Living in The Story readings lead us through the works of the Hebrew prophets as well as the bold, prophetic vision of The Revelation of John in our New Testament.
Sometimes even within ancient Israel, the sacred traditions of Torah became dry bones, needing fresh breath and new life.
Torah needs the Prophets.
Prophets see from a heavenly perspective; they name both the human brokenness and the divine remedies. “Speaking truth to power” is the vocation of the prophet.
Continue reading “The Prophetic Imagination”