Reading the Bible for Lent: Psalms

{I'm attempting to read the whole Bible during Lent this year, and blogging my way through it. The Bible is an old friend, but we fight sometimes. Ever hear of quitting something cold turkey? Well, this is my way of starting something cold turkey, if that makes sense. I'm facing it head on, with my eyes open, and a new way of reading. My hope is to read the entire text through the lens of Jesus (I'm figuring out what this means as I go along) and attempt a balance of honesty and charity, both of which I've lacked in the past. See also: The Pentateuch, Joshua, Judges and Ruth, More on Judges, 1 & 2 Samuel, Kings and Chronicles, Ezra and Nehemiah, Esther, & Job.}

Poetry and Violence (originally posted in November 2012)

Psalm 3. A Psalm of David. When he fled from his son Absalom.

LORD, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me! Many are saying of me, "God will not deliver him." 

But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high. I call out to the LORD, and he answers me from His holy mountain.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side.

Arise, LORD! Deliver me, my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.

From the LORD comes deliverance. May your blessing be upon your people. 

In all the years I've been in a relationship with the Bible,  I've often turned to the Psalms for comfort. The words are so beautifully put together, and some so familiar that when I read them, it's like coming across an old friend.

 I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.  (Psalm 121) 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.  (Psalm 23) 

I waited patiently for the LORD, he inclined and heard my cry. (Psalm 40) 

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  (Psalm 91)

and this one:

you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.

Arguably, some of the most beautiful poetry ever written is contained in the Psalms.

But as anyone who has read them knows, the Psalms are not just a collection of beautiful words. They are a collection of the words of David. Sometimes I get frustrated by all that David in the text.

(Seriously, David, I'm trying to get some comfort here, trying to read some beautiful old words and you have to come along and ruin my morning with your violent Tony Soprano fantasies.) 

What I used to do was just ignore the parts I didn't like, or just employ a little snark to balance them out. I had no use for them; I have no enemies whose heads I wish to dash against a rock.

Of course, he was a man of his time, with his own cultural constraints. If someone was chasing me down I'd probably be praying for some protection too.

I've been looking for the humanity in the Bible, and it's opened up a new richness in the text that I didn't see before. Now, I appreciate seeing all that David in the text. It's the human condition--we are capable of such beauty, such poetry....and also such violence and anger.

David spent so much of his time fleeing from people. He grew up in the country, tending sheep and writing songs, and was thrust into the public eye at a young age. He loved God and wanted to please Him, but messed up  over and over. I look at his story and wonder if he missed the simplicity of his early days. I wonder, in his later years, how often he picked up the harp.

The lesson here for me is this: we're all David. Living in different times, with different ways of solving problems, but with the same fundamental problems of the human heart. Poetry and violence all mixed together, longing for communion with God.

The Bible is so much more interesting with the humanity left in. Maddening too, just as my own humanity is to me at times.

poetry and violence

Psalm 3. A Psalm of David. When he fled from his son Absalom.

LORD, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me! Many are saying of me, "God will not deliver him." 

But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high. I call out to the LORD, and he answers me from His holy mountain.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side.

Arise, LORD! Deliver me, my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.

From the LORD comes deliverance. May your blessing be upon your people. 

In all the years I've been in a relationship with the Bible,  I've often turned to the Psalms for comfort. The words are so beautifully put together, and some so familiar that when I read them, it's like coming across an old friend.

 I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.  (Psalm 121) 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.  (Psalm 23) 

I waited patiently for the LORD, he inclined and heard my cry. (Psalm 40) 

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  (Psalm 91)

and this one:

you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.

Arguably, some of the most beautiful poetry ever written is contained in the Psalms.

But as anyone who has read them knows, the Psalms are not just a collection of beautiful words. They are a collection of the words of David. Sometimes I get frustrated by all that David in the text.

(Seriously, David, I'm trying to get some comfort here, trying to read some beautiful old words and you have to come along and ruin my morning with your violent Tony Soprano fantasies.) 

What I used to do was just ignore the parts I didn't like, or just employ a little snark to balance them out. I had no use for them; I have no enemies whose heads I wish to dash against a rock.

Of course, he was a man of his time, with his own cultural constraints. If someone was chasing me down I'd probably be praying for some protection too.

I've been looking for the humanity in the Bible, and it's opened up a new richness in the text that I didn't see before. Now, I appreciate seeing all that David in the text. It's the human condition--we are capable of such beauty, such poetry....and also such violence and anger.

David spent so much of his time fleeing from people. He grew up in the country, tending sheep and writing songs, and was thrust into the public eye at a young age. He loved God and wanted to please Him, but messed up  over and over. I look at his story and wonder if he missed the simplicity of his early days. I wonder, in his later years, how often he picked up the harp.

The lesson here for me is this: we're all David. Living in different times, with different ways of solving problems, but with the same fundamental problems of the human heart. Poetry and violence all mixed together, longing for communion with God.

The Bible is so much more interesting with the humanity left in. Maddening too, just as my own humanity is to me at times.

a shifter's prayer

God, i used to think you were packageable.

i used to be able to say to others, to myself "this is exactly what God is like."

when i read the Bible i used to feel comfortable and right, affirmed in my belief

now i sometimes feel bothered by what I read, and oh so tired, and still thirsty

oh, how i miss being sure about you-

but God, i’m trying to lean into the present, to experiencing you in new ways.

i see you in the faces of children

i feel you in a sudden cool breeze when the sun is blaring down

i hear you in laughter and honest conversation, in the vulnerable

i smell you in an unexpected rainstorm, in the fresh morning air

i touch you when i touch the difficult, the messy, the un-explainable

thank you for these gifts. 

despite all the things i don’t know, i can still cling to this….you are full of compassion and mystery, and oh so 

unpackageable

and for that i, too, am thankful.  

God, please keep sustaining me in these shifts.

i do want more of you in my life.  

amen.

{This is another exercise from Kathy Escobar. She's my internet pastor, I've decided.}

today's things are for today

faith-full or faithless

numb or still

kind or angry-to-my-core

and I am always tunneling, toward or away

contradiction-

grace the biggest one of all:

every day i need

you to step in and save

me

from myself

today's things are for today,

they will expire

but I still try to stack them up in a closet, so

tomorrow I can just be needless

but

I am here, and so, still is my anger

my not-enough feelings

my humanity

and the grace-filled moments look

different that I thought they would

Still learning.....

still, learning.

We don't do this alone.

You incline, and hear my cry

every day I call out, in some way

every day you answer, in some way

I just stand and watch my babies, amazed by

all that hope running around

little rib-cages, arms reaching up

the weight slowly settles on our shoulders;

you reach down and lift it off

every day, glory.

*Psalm 40 inspired