Learning while Teaching

How Long?, Lenten Reflection #7

Here I am in the midst of the Lenten season. I have been reading my Bible, trying to pray, avoiding social media, and really working hard to get myself into a routine that is conducive to good faith practice--that is, I've been working real hard to root our sin and draw closer to Jesus. It is necessary because I know myself and I know when I am off-balance my tendency is to let it affect everything in my life. I can still function, but it is not a robust functioning. It's more like a robotic, going through the motions kind of functioning devoid of joy and verve.

I mentioned in a previous post, Lenten Reflection #6, that I have been reading the Psalms and the Proverbs as part of my Lenten reflection. I learn something new every time I read the Psalms. They are without doubt one of my favorite books of the Bible for reasons I have mentioned elsewhere: they are raw with emotion and powerful naked humanity on display. DA Carson, in his book How Long, O Lord?, writes this about Psalm 6 in particular and the Psalms in general:

It is overwhelmingly important to reflect on the fact that this psalm and dozens of similar ones are included in Scripture. There is no attempt in Scripture to whitewash the anguish of God's people when they undergo suffering. They argue with God, the complain to God, they weep before God. Theirs is not a faith that leads to dry-eyed stoicism, but a faith so robust it wrestles with God.

David...does not display stoic resignation, nor does he betray doubt that God exists. Even when he feels abandoned by God, his sense of isolation issues in an emotional pursuit of the God who, in his view, is slow to answer. (67)

So this morning as I was reading my Psalms for the day and jotting a few thoughts in my journal, it struck me that frequently the Psalmists cry out to God, "How Long, Lord?" Well of course I have know it was there because I have read it before, but for some reason this morning it stood out to me like a rose on a thorn bush.

Psalm 6:1: "My soul is deep in anguish. How long, Lord, How long?"

Psalm 13:1: "How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?"

Psalm 35:17: "How long, Lord, will you look on?"

Psalm 79:5: "How long, Lord? Will you be angry forever? How long will your jealousy burn like fire?"

Psalm 89:46: "How long, Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? How long will your wrath burn like fire?"

Psalm 94:3: "How long, Lord, will the wicked, how long with the wicked be jubilant?"

And if that isn't enough, this is only one way the Psalmists ask where God is at any given moment. Sometimes they are even more to the point, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Psalm 22).

Tough to figure out this God--this God who is 'playing hard to get' (R Mullins). I mean think about it, why would the Psalmist have to cry out, "Answer me when I call to you my righteous God?" (Psalm 4:1) if God is already active in this world and in our lives? Why do we have to ask God to answer us? It almost sounds like a parent scolding a child who stubbornly refuses to answer: Answer me when I am talking to you! The child of course, will not be cajoled into speaking until he is ready to speak and there is nothing the parent can do but wait....wait....wait....

"Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless." (Psalm 10:12)

I wrote in my journal this morning a few thoughts about this 'How long, Lord?' question I keep seeing in the Psalms. I have to be honest: I find this question the most frustrating of all the questions the Psalmists ask. You know why? Because there is literally nothing I can do to force God's hand or to open his mouth. I can pray. I can sing. I can offer myself daily as a 'living sacrifice'. Nothing. God opens his mouth when he is ready and until then...the righteous, the faithful--whoever they are--wait.

And it get's no better in the New Testament. I recall twice, at least, when I hear this question asked. One indirectly in Acts 1: "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?" I take this as an indirect, "How long, Lord? How long?" The other time is more direct and is found in Revelation 6: "They called out in a loud voice, 'How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?'" Wow. Even New Testament people are not answered, always, directly or quickly.

I came to a couple of conclusions in my journal notes.

First, it seems safe to say that the people of God must wait. We wait a lot. I guess, however, that we are willing to wait. We must wait. What else is there to do but hope...and wait? (That's the last line of my favorite book of all time, The Count of Monte Cristo.)

Second, the people of God complain a lot while they wait. I don't see that God anywhere in Scripture ever faults his people for their anxious prayers or the words that make up the prayers. In fact, God seems to desire our prayers.

Third, I'm not sure what God is doing with all those cries. I think about Israel in Egypt for 400 years. Then the writer of the Exodus tells us, almost casually, "The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry went up to God. God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. So God looked on the Israelites and was concerned about them" (Exodus 2:23-25). Really? He saw their oppression and looked on them? Meanwhile, Moses had to grow to about 80 years before the prayer was answered.

Fourth, read Hebrews 11. "These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised" (11:39). None of them?!? Seriously? Then in almost the very next breath he writes, "Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, the author and perfecter of your faith."

Fifth, you ever just get tired of waiting?

This week has been Dr Seuss week at the school--perhaps all across the country. Each day we have been reading different Dr Seuss books and completing little projects to go along with the book. Tomorrow's book is Oh, the Places You'll Go. This is a great book, but for some reason I haven't been able to find my copy so I decided to look up a youtube version and let the kids watch it. I always  preview these things and while watching it after school today, here's what I heard:

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

On the one hand, it seems to be the thing about being a Christian. We spend a lot of time waiting. I don't think I wanted to wake up today and think another minute about waiting. I certainly didn't want to work on a Dr Seuss project this afternoon and think about waiting. I typically hate when Valentine tells her husband at the end of Monte Cristo that we have to 'hope and wait.' I hate waiting. I'm tired of waiting. I wish God would hurry up and make some kind of revelation about what he's doing or going to do or whatever.

On the other hand, we do seem to spend a great deal of our life waiting. Maybe that's because God thinks we need a lot of mid-course corrections. The trick, I think, is to press on through the waiting, through the times when we are seemingly standing still. Maybe when it seems we are standing still is when we are actually making the most forward progress. Maybe.

I don't think waiting is 'wasted space'. Or wasted time, for that matter. Waiting is waiting and we occupy our time with thoughts (think about Hebrews 11 again) and the business of the Kingdom and with creating space for God to move within us. Waiting is a way of unfettering ourselves from all that keeps us moving in the wrong direction. Waiting allows us to re-evauate, re-assess, and re-direct our lives or, better, to allow God to do so.

I don't know who said it or where it came from, but in the front of my Bible I once scribbled these words: Maybe what God is doing in you while you wait is more important than what you are waiting for.

Now, once again, I am undone.

Undone. And waiting.

Reading the Psalms as a Man, Lenten Reflection #6

Along with other reading I am doing in the Bible, for example, just today I finished reading the book we call Isaiah, I am reading the Psalms and the Proverbs. I'm not sure I remember exactly where I picked up on the idea, but when I read the Psalms and the Proverbs I do so like this: five Psalms per day, 1 chapter of Proverbs per day. This enables me to read both books entirely in 30 days. This is a good practice for anyone, at any time, but it's an especially helpful practice during Lent given that we have 40 days to work with. So even if one gets behind a day or two, the books can still be completed in a relatively good amount of time.

Personally, I think the book of Psalms is likely the book that persuades me of the veracity of the Christian claim. Perhaps that sounds strange given that New Testament books speak directly to and announce rather loudly those claims; perhaps even speak primarily those claims. It's true. I don't deny that. At another level, however, there is the working mind and all of us, regardless of who we are, have a mind that functions in different ways. For example, as a man my mind is, according to some theories, supposed to connect with and be moved by a sort of raw masculinity, a blood and guts kind of appreciation for dirt and adventure. To an extent, I suppose I am. I love watching Rambo and Terminator movies for example. But if I told you I watched them for reasons other than the violence and blood you'd probably call me a liar.

But I do.

I watch Rambo, at least First Blood, because it is a redemption story and it moves me. Emotionally. I watch Terminator movies because they evoke in me a sense of hopelessness that only finds solace in someone outside the film. I do not watch any film for the sake of mere bloodsport or violence--which is why traditional horror films do nothing for me at all: there is simply no emotion. Jason Vorhees killed to kill and we never saw any emotion. Same with Michael Myers. At least Freddy Krueger had the scars to prove his emotion. Funny how the killers in these horror films always have to have their faces rearranged, isn't it?

I watch movies for the story they tell and because in movies I am permitted to experience the full sway of my emotions without repercussion from anyone. Truth? I still cry at the end of Return of the Jedi when Luke throws away his light saber and chooses certain death over unlimited power and during the last scene of Return of the King when the king bows before the hobbits of the Shire and at the end of The  Shawshank Redemption when Andy and Red share a hug on a beach. Hope. And don't get me started on The Sound of Music. That film wipes me out with each note they sing.

There are many other movies that do the same thing to me. It's not sentimentalism and since I don't watch cheap romance films, I am scarcely moved by simple boy-gets-girl or girl-gets-boy stories. I am moved by love--raw, uncontrollable, undeniable, sometimes angry and proven love in movies. I get that from heroes who die for those they love. I get that from characters who make hard choices in the face of evil or have to take matters of justice into their own hands and wrestle with that decision frequently. I get that from justice being done and the world being set to rights. I get that when dragons are slain and color returns the gray void. It's like seeing Dorothy open her door for the first time in Oz and seeing color--which is a scene, perhaps more than any other in The Wizard of Oz, that moves me.

I connect with those people and the story they tell. I connect with the emotions they share--and some actors are far better at it than others which is why I gravitate towards their films rather frequently. I have even seen Tom Cruise emote in a way that moves me.

So, the Psalms. The Psalms are like little films to me. Each one tells a story and yet each one is part of a fabric woven together to form part of a greater quilt. And the Psalms are nothing if not raw expressions of emotion and love. As a man, I'm not supposed to be in tune with my emotions, but I promise you there are times when the Psalms have made me weep. Each Psalm is a script in a movie and there are heroes and goats; there are gods and men; there are women and men; there are props and animals; there is a soundtrack; there is a back story. Not all of them feature each element yet some have all of these elements.

I love the Psalms because the Psalms are raw emotion. There is virtually no emotion the Psalms avoid. There is no scenario the Psalms haven't explored. There is drama in the Psalms--in every one of them. And for some reason, I like it.

I like that these men who wrote the Psalms were not afraid to let that emotion pour out in a very public way to God. Whoever put the book of Psalms together was a pure genius because they understood that YHWH invented emotions. And the writers of the Psalms--whether they knew they were writing Scripture or not is beside the point--understood that God was not afraid of their anger, their fear, their sadness, their joy, their anxiety, their boredom, their bloodthirsty-ness, their hunger, their tears, their uncertainty, their loneliness, their exhaustion, their guilt, their sin, their shame, their love, their hate, their hurt, their shame, their exaltation, their indifference, and much more besides. And for this reason, I connect deeply with the Psalms. Jesus did too given that he quoted from them even as he hung on the cross. In these drama filled, emotion laden scripts Jesus found a voice for his own emotion: "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Psalm 22)

The Psalms are a roller coaster of emotional outpouring. We can relate to the Psalms because these are all the things we feel and experience everyday of our lives and the Psalms tell us that we can pour out all these things on God, that he hears, that he (eventually) answers, and that at the very heart of things: God cares about his covenant people; deeply. Deeply enough that there is scarcely a word we can utter that offends him. The message of the Psalms: Pour it out and if you don't have your own words, pilfer from these 150 poems.

And for this same reason, in my mind, the Psalms more than anything else persuade me of the truth claims of Scripture: because of their raw honesty and their childlike expression of this honesty. The Psalms are not out to 'prove' anything even if the Psalms happen to demonstrate many things. The Psalms' only objective, and of course I recognize that the Psalms are doing more than this, is to lay out this deep yearning and longing that finds no resolution here on earth or among people. They take us to the very heights of the world to the very depths of hell, they leave us with unanswered prayers, they leave us weeping on couches and suffering bouts of insomnia.

What I like about the Psalms is that for all their perfection and beauty they teach us that the world we live in is not perfect, is not always beautiful, that life is not always predictable, and that YHWH is not a cosmic vending machine who is at our beck and call. Sometimes he waits....off in the distance...maybe just to see if we have the nerve to cry out to him and trust him while we wait. He cares; yes, deeply. Yet ultimately even the Psalms tell us a story with a greater plot--a story in which we are characters who play a vital role. In his short book A Case for the Psalms, NT Wright wrote:

In the same way, the story the Psalms tell is the story Jesus came to complete. It is the story of the creator God taking his power and reigning, ruling on earth as in heaven, delighting the whole creation by sorting out its messes and muddles, its injuries and injustices, once and for all. It is also the story of malevolent enemies prowling around, of people whispering lies and setting traps, and of sleepless nights and bottles full of tears. (31)

I like the Psalms because they allow me to drink deeply of the emotions of others and to pour out my emotions. They are a place where my masculinity is not called into question when my emotions are on full sleeve display. I know of a congregation or two where the preacher was not allowed to be so emotional. I distinctly recall him being told to 'fake it' because it's not 'professional' to be emotive. It's not professional to weep openly or to express deep grief and sorrow and hurt. I think congregations like this bore God. Most preachers are accused of being liars; this one was accused of being honest. I think these are also congregations where preachers are constantly on edge because the congregation constantly wants him to subdue his emotions--imagine telling Jeremiah, the weeping prophet to stifle his emotions.

I also think these congregations are the ones who pour salt into the wounds of the preachers or twist the knife in his back a little harder and deeper. These are the congregations who have no clue how to come alongside one who is suffering and just sit and mourn or laugh or sing. These are congregations who are very unfamiliar with the man who 'took up our sorrows', the man acquainted with suffering and grief, the man who cried out to God in desperation, and wept openly at a funeral.

I suspect that congregations like this should spend more time reading the Psalms. Or the Bible in general. They should become acquainted with the people who poured out such emotion before God. They should become acquainted with Jesus who affirmed them.

 

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Learning to Talk, Lenten Reflections #3

Fixed Eye Faith, Lenten Reflections #2

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Learning to Talk, Lenten Reflections #3

In a little book I have called Answering God, author Eugene Peterson writes,

"But the first requirement of language is not to make us nice but accurate. Prayer is not particularly 'nice.' There is a recognition in prayer of the fiercer aspects of God...Psalm language is not careful about offending our sensibilities; its genius is its complete disclosure of the human spirit as it makes response to the revealing God. Given the mess that things are in, it will not be surprising that some unpleasant matters have to be spoken, and spoken in the language of our sin-conditioned humanity, for the language of prayer is, most emphatically, human language. It is not angel talk." (41-42)

Sometimes we simply do not have the words though. Sometimes talking to God is difficult because perhaps we think what we have to say might be offensive or too caustic for God's ears. When I read through the Psalms--or the Bible in general--I am quickly disabused of that idea. Those who pray use real words and often rather salty language. It seems that God's ears are quite accustomed to our complaints and our verbal atrocities. He's been around a while; he can handle it.

But that's not how we pray. It really isn't. I have been involved in the church since I was born. I cannot remember a day when I haven't been involved with the church in some way. And I am one of those people who actually listens to everything that is said in church. I pay close attention because I want to hear the Scripture read and preached, I want to hear the prayers prayed and offered, and I want to hear the Spirit move among God's people. On the other hand, I'm also like Stanley Hauerwas who wrote,

"I do not trust prayer to spontaneity. Most 'spontaneous prayers' turn out, upon analysis, to be anything but spontaneous. Too often they conform to formulaic patterns that include ugly phrases such as, 'Lord, we just ask you..." Such phrases are gestures of false humility, suggesting that God should give us what we want because what we want is not all that much. I prayer that God will save us from 'just.' (Hannah's Child, 255)

Hauerwas goes on to note that because of his fear he took to writing out his prayers. I'm OK with that. Some folks need to do just such a thing. When I was younger I objected to such things, but the older I get and the more cut & paste prayers I hear from people leading worship or in small groups, the more I am fine with the practice. Nevertheless, I think there might also be another solution though and that solution has to do with the Scripture.

Part of the reason I think corporate prayers are so anemic is because our minds have not drank deeply enough of the Scripture to let it saturate the part of our brains that generates language. Or we are simply content with formulating our own nonsense. But if we trust that the Bible is the Word of God then why shouldn't we pray back his words to him? Why shouldn't we remind him of what he said? Why shouldn't we pray the very words he gave us and hurl back to him the words he hurled at us?

I'm not sure why we think our words are better than his words. But to my point: the prayers we offer in public worship, the prayers offered by our leaders (preachers, elders, deacons), those prayers are weak and speak nothing: "Thank you God for this day. We just pray for this or that. Bless the gift and the giver so that your message will go out in this community and around the world. Be with us."

There's nothing wrong with these words at all, but when these words are the meat and substance of our prayers, and when these are the same words repeated time and time again from pulpits and by leaders, it makes me stop and wonder if we are even in tune with what the Bible has to say about the work God has planned for us, through Jesus, in this world? Jesus said that the very gates of hell cannot count an offensive to stop the church or mount a defensive position that the church cannot conquer. Yet our prayers are prayers thanking God for the day. Again, nothing wrong with thanking God for the day, but don't you think our prayers could have a little more urgency? Don't you think our leaders should pray with a bit more expectancy? Don't you think our prayers should have a little more prophecy infused? 

I mean seriously: Why are all those prayers we read in the Bible there in the first place? Are we just supposed to read them? Are they there for decorative purposes? Are they there so we can marvel at how wonderful the saints of old prayed? Or are they there to guide and direct our own prayer life, to give us words to pray, directions for our journey, and/or language to fatten up our prayers? Think about Jesus on the cross and the prayers he prayed. Luke 23:46: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit" is from Psalm 31:5. Mark 15:34: "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?" is a quote from Psalm 22:1. Or think about Stephen in Acts 7 who was stoned to death because of Jesus. He prayed twice during his execution: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," and "Lord do not hold this sin against them." Well, it seems to me that these are both allusions to the words that Jesus prayed on the cross, words that Jesus quoted from Scripture.

Or think about Revelation 6:10: "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" This was prayed by the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. But here again is my point: How many times in the Older Testament, especially the Psalms, do we see these words or words similar to them? Look at Psalm 13:1, for example. Or Psalm 6:3. Or Habakkuk 1:2 for that matter. The point, of course, is that even these dead saints in Revelation are still praying the Scripture.

This post could go on for a while because I haven't really even laid out all of my reasons for believing these things or the reasons why I think we should pray the Scripture. And by 'pray the Scripture' I do not only mean using the language of Scripture but I mean literally praying through it. That is, opening up a book of the Bible and literally praying it's words back to the Father--kind of like we do when we recite the Lord's prayer. Like I said, this post could go on for a while and I want to end it for now. Suffice it to say, in conclusion, that I think perhaps it would do us well to dig deeper into the Scripture as congregations. Our lives as members of the church should be centered around the Scripture. Scripture should be read frequently from the pulpit. Scripture should be sung. Scripture should be read as part of the worship. Scripture should be prayed. Scripture should be preached. Scripture should be read privately and publicly.

I hear the words of Amos the prophet:

"The days are coming," declares the Lord, "When I will send a famine through the land--not a famine of food or a thirst for water, but a famine of hearing the words of the Lord. People will stagger from sea to sea and wander from north to east, searching for the word of the Lord, but they will not find it" (8:11-12).

I get this. I think it's going on right now and is evidenced in the prayers we pray.

Daily Office: July 11, 2014

It's been a few days since I have written about the Daily Office. That kind of bums me out a little bit because it means I haven't been truly engaged in the Scripture as I want to be. I suppose all of us at some level have these ideas about what we should be doing and what we are actually doing. Key, I believe, is not even balance because that implies, in one way or another, that all things are equal or equally important. I need un-balance. Or maybe the correct word is imbalance. Either way, we get caught up in life, family, the affairs of today, the regrets of yesterday, and the dreams of tomorrow and it tends to crowd out those things that matter more.

So I'm generally distrusting of people who tell me that their lives are balanced. It generally means they have no priorities. This was not something I easily learned--the struggles of the last several years demonstrate adequately that all the while I was seeking balance--professionally, personally, spiritually--God was in the business of throwing me off course and challenging my notions of what it really means to live, move, and have being.

On then to today's readings.

Psalm 16, 17 What is interesting about these two Psalms is not that the New Testament writers took verses 9-10 of Psalm 16 and filled up its meaning with the Resurrection of Jesus. That is powerful reading, to be sure, but not what I find most compelling. Too often we see such prophecies fulfilled in Jesus (a good thing) and we forget that there are other verses to read as well (a bad thing). Psalm 16 & 17 both begin in sort of the same way: Lord, I am in deep trouble. Keep me safe. Hear my cry. What else is interesting is that they both seem to end the same way too. At the end of 16, the Psalmist is clearly in the grave and counting on the Lord's intervention, and 17 ends with the Psalmist waking up happy to see God's face. In both cases, and at some level, the Psalmist has died. Not terribly optimistic until you remember that in both Psalms the writer has thrown caution to the wind and is reminding God that He is the only hope and vindication he can count upon for survival.

And if we read carefully through the Psalms, we see there is no end to the dangers faced by the righteous in this lifetime. The righteous are always on the backside of those who 'run after other gods.' We see in Psalm 16 that even though the 'boundary lines have fallen in pleasant places' and even though 'with Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken' the Psalmist still finds himself six feet under by the time we reach verses 9-11. I wonder if it is fair to assume that some how or other this death was brought about by those who 'run after other gods'?

Then we arrive at Psalm 17 and we find that the stakes have been raised even higher and the threats against the righteous have grown even more demanding: bribery and violence (4);  seeking destruction of the righteous (9); callous hearts and arrogant mouths (10); hunting parties ( those who 'run after other gods' also form hunting parties to 'track us down' 16:4 & 17:11); physical abuse (11b); and in general wickedness (14). And another interesting note: those who 'run after other gods' in Psalm 16 are 'like a lion hungry for prey, like a fierce lion crouching in cover' (12). I know where I have heard that before: "Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). Maybe those who 'run after other gods' are equally adept at doing the work of the enemy, the devil. One thing is for certain: the righteous can fully expect that those who 'run after other gods' in this lifetime are going to get what is coming to them, what they desire--their bellies will be full and there will be leftovers beside (17:14). They will have their rewards here, now, in this life. And the righteous should not be envious.

So what I'm thinking about is this. What am I doing with my life? What am I chasing? Am I running after other gods hoping to get my fill of this life? Or will I take refuge in God (16:1 & 17:7)? I guess it depends upon what we want. Do we want a life filled now? Or do we want hope of a life perfectly satisfied forever? In some ways I really believe it is an either/or proposition. Do we take refuge in God and have hope now and later? Or do we do the devil's bidding and be forever unsatisfied? Are we happy to find hope in Resurrection with Jesus? Or are we busily living the unsatisfied life of the devil? Interestingly enough, Psalm 16 reminds us that those who 'run after other gods' are the ones who will 'suffer more and more' (16:4). So it kind of makes me wonder if I have put all my suffering into its proper perspective so that even when I am surrounded on all sides by an enemy who wishes nothing better than my discontent, death, and my utter destruction I can say, with the chorus of the righteous: I will not be shaken because the Lord is at my right hand.

Imagine that: The Lord at your right hand.

Matthew 24:1-35 Over the years, as I have read this complex and perplexing passage of Scripture--set within Matthew's overt Kingdom story--I have grown fonder and fonder of it not, I think, because it tells of signs and wonders and so-called apocalyptic things, but because at the heart of it it tells the story of Jesus. It's like when we read the book of The Revelation. I think if we read the book of Revelation hoping to find anything there but Jesus then we are reading the story in the wrong way or with the wrong intent. The story in the Revelation is about Jesus: first to last, alpha to omega, beginning to end. John encounters a suffering church--7 of them to be exact--and what does he do? He gives them a vision of Jesus (see chapter 1 of Revelation for more insight). So when we read Matthew 24 I believe the intent is the same. You and me we look around and we see all sorts of calamity and persecution and suffering and death and destruction--much like the Psalmist did in Psalm 16-17--and we may grow to despair this life. We may grow to wonder what is happening and where it's all going. And Jesus recognized this so look what he does. He tells us: Yes, there are going to be times when life absolutely sucks. Life is going to get so bad that people won't even respect religious buildings or the righteous who gather there. I like that Jesus is sitting on top of a mountain, looking down on the world like a King on a throne. So again, what does he do? He warns us that there is only one Jesus.

There will be false messiahs, but don't listen. There will be wars, but don't be alarmed. Wickedness will increase, but this Kingdom Gospel will be preached. Religious persecution will grow, but stand firm. False messiahs and prophets will perform great signs and wonders, but don't be deceived. Don't grow cold in your love if everyone around you does. Don't be attached to this life when everyone else is running back inside for a cloak. Don't believe what people tell you when they point to false hope but remember Jesus' words. What does Jesus do? He tells us this: You will know me when you see me and I will not look like or be like what the world tells you I look like and act like. I might come and do no miracles or signs like the world does so don't look for signs and wonders; I might not relieve all your troubles at once as the world does so don't look for comfort or convenience; I might not come to the world's acclaim so don't look in the direction the world points. Instead, listen for a trumpet, watch for the lightning, follow the vultures, pray for peace, and pay attention--not to what the world says to pay attention to--but to the Words of Jesus (35). In other words, if you are paying attention, you will not miss Jesus when he returns. Remain steadfast. Stick with love. Pay attention to his words. He has not abandoned this place or his people. He will not abandon us to the grave any more than his Father abandoned him to the grave. When the world around you goes to the pot, keep looking for Jesus, keep listening to his words, and keep busy in his kingdom.

When you see all these things, pay attention. Things are near. But don't put too much stock in them because it's easy to get caught up in these things and miss out on what we truly hope for: the return of Jesus. And if we are looking, hoping, and waiting upon Jesus we will not miss him. Ask yourself, is it Jesus you are looking for?

That's all I have for today and I hope it is helpful. Be blessed. Grace and Peace to you in Jesus' Name.

Daily Office: July 1, 2014

I have a long day today with not at all that much to do. I'm happy about that. I can get some reading done and enjoy a relaxing day. Today's readings are from Proper 8, Year 2 of the Book of Common Prayer. I won't have comments for all these selections and remember my thoughts are simply off-the-cuff kind of ideas. I'm simply thinking my way through Scripture each day. I think this is a good way to set the right tone for my heart and mind each day.

Psalm 120-123

Numbers 22:21-38

Romans 7:1-12

Matthew 21:23-32

Psalm 122 It's a terrible thing to live with anxiety. It's a terrible thing to sit around waiting on that phone call from a doctor or a lawyer or a friend or a boss. It's a terrible thing how the bowels get turned inside out and start heaving up into your chest and that tickling feeling spreads across the plane of your entire soul makes matters worse. Is there a solution? Is there a fix? I suppose one could take some pills. I tried that for a while when I was younger, but it didn't help. Anxiety medications do just that: they medicate. They do not solve the underlying problem of why we are anxious in the first place which is not always a biological problem even if the results of anxiety are biological. "I will say 'Peace be within you.'" "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem." "May those who love you be secure." "May there be peace within your walls and security within your citadels." Why is there peace in Jerusalem? There's peace in Jerusalem in the throng of worshipers going up to Praise the name of the Lord. Worship isn't, then, a mere distraction or something we do on Sundays. Jerusalem is the city of the Great King (Matthew 5:35). Worship is our citadel of peace and what we do in Jerusalem is seek the Lord who is our peace. Eugene Peterson wrote, "[Peace] gathers all aspects of wholeness that result from God's will be completed in us" (A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, 56). Maybe peace flows from trusting God's will and trusting God's will flows from worship--coming face to face with God and knowing him and his character. Maybe our own peace comes not from understanding all things but from being near someone who does, being near someone who is Peace himself. (See Isaiah 9:6 and Ephesians 2:14. Admittedly, these passages are both taken a bit out of context, but in some way they point to true peace as is found in Jesus.)

Numbers 22:21-38 Ever notice how important animals are in the Bible? Aside from the serpent in Genesis 3, animals typically are fairly positive in the Bible. Noah found doves helpful. Here Balaam's donkey talks to him. Later ravens will feed Elijah. In another story Jonah is swallowed up by a great fish. Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Jesus is the Lion of the Tribe of Juday who sits on God's throne (Rev 4-5). I'm sure there are others, but these few stand out as significant. Kind of makes one think that we ought to be a little or a lot more careful about the way we treat animals--one of them might save us some day from something we'd rather not have to face.

Matthew 21:23-32 "What we should also be asking is this. What should Jesus' followers be doing today that would challenge the powers of the present world with the news that he is indeed its rightful Lord? What should we be doing that would make people ask, 'By what right are you doing that?', to which the proper answer would be to tell, not now riddles about John the Baptist, but stories about Jesus himself?" (NT Wright, Matthew for Everyone, pt 2, page 77). Because people still ask these questions and many Christians simply have no answers. Or we have the wrong answers. Perhaps we rely on some outdated mode of logic or we rely on some well-worn favorite theologian. Or perhaps we put all of our eggs in the basket of US Constitution or decisions by the Supreme Court. Some even rely on the Bible itself--as did slavers in past centuries. But there must be a way where we can say that our lives are in accord with the life and actions of Jesus. It's not merely a matter of what would Jesus do because I don't think that will do for very long. And I don't think it boils down to merely propping up a moral decision that we thing Scripture justifies. So when the Chief Priests and elders came to Jesus they said, "By what authority are you doing these things?" We might ask, "What things are they talking about?" What was he doing but taking over the temple leadership and setting himself up in place of the chief priests and teachers and elders: he was teaching and he was healing and he was concerned that the house of prayer (that is, trusting reliance upon God who will bring about his will in his way in his time) was turned into a hive for brigands and revolutionaries (that is, those who will bring about a kingdom through their own violent ways without regard to God's will or justice).

It seems that our Psalm for today (122) and Jesus's words and actions in Matthew have something in common. Ultimately, they are both about peace and where that peace comes from. "I was glad when my friends said 'Let's go up to Jerusalem' and 'seek the house of the Lord our God.'" And what do we find when we go up and seek the house of the Lord our God? Well, we find Jesus: we find him rebuking the faithless way of violence. We find him welcoming those who had been excluded from temple worship (blind and lame). And we find him teaching the way of God's kingdom, faith, and righteousness. And isn't it funny who gets upset when Jesus does these things? You know, those who seem to have the most to lose--that is, their power. I love how Jesus simply loves, welcomes, and heals people and in so doing strips away the power of the powerful who will not.

That's all for now. I hope to let all this sink deeply into my heart today as I continue this journey of learning to trust God's way and have faith that His will will be done.

Book Review: Exposing the Psalms

Title: Exposing the Psalms

Author: Peter Nevland

Publisher: Authentic Media

Year: March 2014

Pages: 240 (e-book)

Additional Information: Spoken Groove

Buy at Amazon: Exposing the Psalms

Tree of Psalms project

[Disclaimer: Some high ranking government official had a brainchild one day and said that if I didn't inform my readers that I received a free copy of the book in exchange for my unbiased review then you, the reader, might assume the review was biased. Either way, I received a free e-copy of this book in exchange for my mostly unbiased review.]

I am glad Nevland included an index in the back of his book Exposing the Psalms. For me, as a theologian first and a reader second, it is important to know what sort of literature influenced an author who has had the audacity to write about Scripture. I am fairly well read when it comes to commentaries and theology and I have to say that the sources were a bit lacking. There's nothing wrong with reading Matthew Henry's (1700's) commentaries or with reading Jameson, Fausett, and Brown (1800s) or with reading John Gill (1700s), but the fact remains that there are literally hundreds of commentaries that would provide and additional 300 years worth of insight into the Psalms. I'm sure Mr Nevland has his own reasons for using these particular commentaries, maybe not. Still I find it bizarre in a curious sort of way. Again, it's not that it's wrong, it's just strange.

The book itself is an interesting read. One of the more important aspects of the book is that Nevland does not come at the Psalms with an overtly scholarly point of view. He might be a scholar, as is evident (occasionally) by the depth of his writing, and there is a strong theological element to the books too, but maybe he's just good at research and processing. He does outline his methods at the beginning, which is helpful too, but maybe he prefers simply to read and experience the Psalms (such as he did with Psalm 95 where he wrote that he 'must have read it more than twenty times, before it changed me enough to connect to its story', 100.)

Either way, there were times when reading the book that I was simply blown away by the depth of the insight he offered on a verse or a Psalm (e.g., his thoughts on Psalms 148 & 133 were brilliant). Then there were times when I was somewhat shocked by what appeared to be a rather naive approach to a Psalm (e.g., his thoughts on Psalm 23 & 24 were incredibly similar, theologically strange, and in my experience difficult to accept as meaningful: "So the 'paths of righteousness' in Psalm 23 instantly draw a picture of God leading you on a road where you can do no wrong.He'll surround you with so much goodness, you can't make a mistake. Instead of goodness coming from the inside out, it attacks you until it penetrates your soul. Every possible decision is right", 34. Frankly, I have no idea what those sentences mean. See also, pages 39 & 205 where there are hints of this 'prosperity' notion. )

At the end of each section of writing about a specific Psalm (Nevland covers 30 of them in the book, and in random order. I didn't care for the randomness of the order, but again I suppose he had his purposes) Nevland gives the reader 3 questions to mull over and answer. I thought this was an especially nice idea. It helps draw the reader back into the Psalm and also encourages deeper or at least more focused thought about the Psalm. He also included at the end of each section a song or a poem that is somehow closely connected with the Psalm he has just exposed us to. I will say this much, I admire Nevland as an artist, but I didn't have much use for the songs/poems. Frankly, I got to the point where I just stopped reading them. In my opinion, the book was neither better nor worse because of their inclusion. Some readers will enjoy them and read them, others will not.

A small point of contention for me was the imbalance of the book. Some chapters were really long and heavy. Other chapters were very short and ended somewhat abruptly. It may be a personal thing, but I would have preferred a bit more balance to the chapters. (I get that some Psalms are longer than others and require more pages, but I think there are ways to solve that particular problem.) Balance in chapters helps a reader establish a rhythm in their reading and it was difficult to establish such a rhythm with the disproportionate chapters.

The truth is, this is not the type of book one should sit down and read straight through and then review on a blog. This is a slow book. By that I mean, I think it needs to be read slowly, one needs to take their time, one needs to dance a little with the Psalms Nevland is exposing (and by and large I think he did a fine job keeping the Psalms in their historical context) in order to fully appreciate what he is doing--which is where I think Nevland's brilliance shines forth: these are songs, psalms, poems read, performed, or sung at the king's court or in the King's court. These Psalms are neither monotone, nor monolithic. These songs were written, often, in community. They were most certainly performed in community. They are towering, staggering collections of voices, read throughout the generations of those who seek the Face of God from during the high points of festivals to the lowest depths of dereliction. These are the voices of honesty and praise and worship and lament and fear and abandonment and adoration and faith. These are the voices of God's people through the ages attempting to understand God's absence and attempting to stand up in his presence.

If I had to narrow my thoughts down and say something absurd like 'this is the one thing Nevland did exceptionally well in his book' it would be at this point. I think Nevland did a remarkable work helping remind his readers of the historical context, the liturgical voice, the desperate prayers, the communal and personal nature of the Psalms. I enjoyed that he got me thinking about these Psalms not as mere words scratched into a scroll or parchment--detached from all context or historical upheaval--but as the words of living, breathing people who were being chased by rebels, threatened by wild animals, or suffocating and gasping for their last breath. I like that he got me listening to the words as if a full band were playing in the background and dancers were leaping and twirling with every word. He got me thinking about people trembling in the presence of enemies and finding peace in the presence of God. In a word, he had a way of bringing these Psalms out of their scholarly garb and into my work & play clothes. That, in my opinion, is the best part of the book.

I do have one complaint about the book: Jesus just seems kind of thin in the book. There are times when Jesus is Jesus, but there are other times when he is 'some other famous guy' (see 127). This bothered me. It's probably not that Nevland purposely avoided Jesus and I'm certainly not saying that he has no interest in Jesus. I am saying that even Jesus pointed out that the Psalms were, by and large, written about him (see Luke 24:44). Does this mean every Psalm is about Jesus? Maybe. Maybe not. My point is that we may well find that the Psalms speak to us or speak for us (even Jesus prayed the Psalms at his crucifixion, see Luke 23:46, Matthew 27:46), we may find that they offer us great consolation or great consternation, but at the end of the day the Psalms point to something, someone, beyond themselves. The Psalms are not Psalms merely for their own sake.

Nevland doesn't necessarily avoid Jesus, but neither do I think he goes out of his way to make him as fully present, or as evident in the Psalms, as he could have. It's important that the Psalms live, but even the authors of the Psalms would probably tell us they were not writing merely to bring out the emotional best in the readers.

I give this book 4/5 stars.

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For other reviews on books about the Psalms, reviews that I have written, please visit the links below. I believe you will find them especially helpful.

Book Review: The Case for the Psalms

Book Review: Psalms for Everyone

Book Review: Psalms for Everyone

Title: Psalms for Everyone, pt 2, Psalms 73-150

Author: John Goldingay

Publisher:Westminster John Knox Press

Year: 2014

Pages: 228

[I am required by the FCC to inform you that Westminster John Knox Press provided me with a free e-book preview copy of this book for review purposes. Truth is, I'm afraid not to tell you because, well, one never really knows about the long arm of the FCC. Anyhow, there you go; it was free and so are my opinions of the book.]

I have read other books by John Goldingay (in particular, his WBC commentary on Daniel) and have enjoyed his keen sense of seeing the finer details of the   biblical text and his understanding of and attention to the grand narrative that stretches from one end of the canon to the other (context). Some writers get too caught up in one; some too much so in the other. Goldingay balances both nicely in his writing.

I have also listened to lectures Goldingay has delivered at Fuller Theological (they are accessible through iTunes) and I have appreciated his sense of humor and the depths he is willing to probe in order to understand what Scripture is and what Scripture is not. The Bible would be better understood if people took time to unhook themselves from whatever preconceptions they have and listen to the text from front to back and, for that matter, if they would stop viewing it merely as a collection of sayings and start view it as a library, full of books, each with its own literary purpose. An example is his understanding that even the Penteteuch (Genesis-Deuteronomy) is best and properly understood as one book with some rather artificial divisions imposed on the text.

This is all so much backdrop to my review of The Psalms for Everyone, pt 2 which I think is necessary because if a person just jumps into this book without ever having read or listened to Goldingay they might get frustrated early on and simply walk away from the book. This is not a book that is necessarily easy to read or easily understood. It is definitely not a book to sit and read cover to cover (as one must do when writing book reviews). This is a book that is meant to be read slowly, deliberately, and with brain fully engaged and in concert with the Holy Spirit of God.

I say this as a sincere compliment to the author because one thing I have grown weary of is the rather shallow writings on Scripture that get published by publishers in today's world--worse the amount of people who buy and read them and then wonder why life makes no sense. They (publishers) seem to think that the average everyday Christian cannot handle digging deeply into the Scripture or understanding the Scripture as a complete, unified body of work designed to teach us something less about ourselves and something more about God. For example, "the division of the Psalter into five books thus draws our attention to the reason that the book of Psalms exists. It's to teach us how to praise God and how to pray to God" (3). It also, thus, neatly parallels with the Penteteuch too. But I suspect that Christians are not so much interested in depth, nor the prophets who sound those depths, in this strange apocalyptic driven wasteland of shallow Christianity we live in today. We are not so many Bereans. People want the big, the noise, the amazing and glittery Christianity. Goldingay's thoughts on the Psalms invite us to plod along each day, slowly, whatever may come, and live God's thoughts to us and offer our thoughts to Him.

A perfect example of this plodding is found in Goldingay's translations of the Psalms. I belong to a generation of Christians who have been raised on the New International Version of the Bible. There's nothing necessarily wrong with that except that the NIV translations of the books of the Bible are thin and, almost, too easy to read. The first thing the reader will notice about Goldingay's translations is that they are thick, heavy, and deep. They are complex and startling--I'm still debating how I feel about 'God Almighty' being translated 'YHWH Armies'--and sometimes downright frustrating, but, like Shakespeare, as a professor used to tell me, they are worth the effort.

I have a practice of reading through the Psalms monthly (5 Psalms per day) and I can usually get my reading done in about 15 minutes or so. This would not be the case with Goldingay's Psalms. They force the reader to slow down, to think, to sort of chew their way through the molasses like language he uses. This is a good thing. It means that I have to make space each day to read the Psalms (or any Scripture for that matter) and not merely do it as a matter of habit or add-on to each day. One must have strong chops to read these Psalms; one must have strong will to press on when the language gets thick, hits too close to home, or confounds us. Sometimes I simply read the Psalms (Goldingay's translations) aloud in order to better appreciate the language and the content and, frankly, in order to understand them. I'm not ashamed to admit that I often had to re-read his translations in order to understand them. Again, this is a good thing because it is good to be challenged and startled out of complaceny--which I suspect is a large problem when it comes to a people where there are so many thin translations available.

Another important aspect of this book is the personal anecdotes and the connections he made between life or movies or news and the Psalms--the way he made them as relevant to a today Christian as they were to a yesterday Israelite. I do not know how long it took Goldingay to write this book, but I can imagine him sitting down to morning breakfast each day, reading a Psalm, reading the daily paper, then heading off to the study to see how the two relate to one another. Or maybe he sits down at the end of each day and thinks about all that his life experienced throughout the day, read a Psalm or two, and then reflected on his life again to see how God has instructed him through this or that occasion.

This is exactly the way it has worked for me. Again, reading through the Psalms each day makes me think carefully about what I have experienced in that day and provides a better clarity to the life I have experienced. On the other hand, if I read them in the morning, it gives me opportunity for a perspective on the day that I may not otherwise have. Either way, we are invited to look on life with a God point of view: "The psalm makes that assertion by faith against the evidence of present experience" (48) he writes commenting on Psalm 85. I love that Goldingay keeps the focus squarely on the way YHWH speaks to us in and through the Psalms and invites us to new reflection on life or better perspective on living. Continually he draws us back into the text, the ancient song-book of Israel, and invites us to repent and return to YHWH: "We are in perpetual need of such reframing, one way or another, so that we stop thinking in a way that leaves out God's involvement with us and resume thinking in a way that puts God's involvement with us at the center" (11). It is, to be sure, a beautiful way of thinking about God. It makes God personal and our response is worship.

I judge a book based on whether I will read it again and this is a book I will reread (but this time much more slowly and deliberately). I will return to it precisely because of its depth and precisely because it forces me to slow down and savor the Psalms, to have courage to speak to God with a certain chutzpah (his word, p 14), and to love the community of believers from whence these Psalms sprung and were read (see Psalm 78 comments). Goldingay has given me an entirely new language to use when I pray (because his translations are deep, wordy, and thick). I appreciate this book and I believe that if someone wants depth and wants to savor and enjoy the Psalms as desperate cries of a broken people to a faithful God, then this book is a good place to start or to return.

5/5 stars

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500 Words Per Day: Thinking about Life in General

I've been having a lot of thoughts lately about a great many things. Some things too lofty for me to think of (like God's great grace) and other things maybe a bit too mundane (like the bother of having my oil changed in my car.) It's all rather fascinating the amount of energy that goes into either one. Like when I read the other day that Tim Keller said something like, "God's grace means it's OK that we're not all OK." Or something like that. Or like today when I was sitting at Valvoline and I asked the attendant how much the oil change would cost and I blacked out after the first 3 minutes of her speech. Seriously, all I wanted was an oil change.

I took a slow drive today from my home to the home of another. I took it slow and enjoyed the music, the conversation, and the view. It's still quite brown and dreary all around, but I sense that there is a springtime about to break loose on us all. It's like my niece who is learning to make sounds with her lips, tongue, and throat. She babbles and coos and makes a raspberry sound with her lips. What will happen is that we will not really notice her learning to speak until she actually speaks and we will be like, "Where did that come from?"

So it will be with springtime...slowly the trees will begin to break forth in green...slowly the grass will turn from yellow/brown to green...slowly the temperature will turn from miserable to 'the furnace isn't running anymore' and we will be like "Where did that come from?" All I can hope for is that I can slow down enough to notice the gradual changes that take place on the earth. I have gone through massive, monumental changes in the last 4 years, but as I sit here now all I can think about is how quickly those four years went by and how little I remember of the gradual changes I underwent that have culminated in the person I am now.

None of us just happen. We are at any moment the culmination of all the years, months, days, minutes and seconds that we have traveled through. We are a collection of thoughts--heavenly and mundane--and ideas and ambitions--some of which failed and others of which have succeeded. Whatever the case, here we are. We are hopeful and dreamy and worshipful and angry and sad and happy and bent of revenge and seeking forgiveness all at once, every day and every night. It never stops; it never relents.

I am constantly nagged by the thought that God pays attention to all of this. For some reason he is interested in who we are--not merely because he made us, but worse, I suspect, because he really does love us. "What is man that you are mindful of him?" the Psalmist asked.

Father, I had my oil changed today. My heart's next.

 

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Book Review: The Case for the Psalms

Book Review: The Case for the Psalms

Title: The Case for the Psalms

Author: N. T. Wright (Unofficial)

NT Wright: Amazon Page

Publisher: Harper Collins; HarperOne

Page Count: 200

Date: 2013

There are many preachers and theologians I admire to the point of buying anything they write and listening to anything they preach. Among them are Eugene Peterson, D.A. Carson, Frederick Buechner, David Wells, Tim Keller, and Eddie Vedder. I am, however, especially fond of N.T. Wright.

When I was in Bible college and especially after I started preaching in the church, there were always aspects of the Bible that bothered me: things didn't make chronological sense, this verse seemed to contradict that verse, and so on. Then one day I finally figured out that N.T. Wright was not the same person as H.N. Wright and I started reading. And I haven't stopped. His theology simply makes sense to me of all those verses I couldn't reconcile with one another and all those contradictory things are no longer contradictory. And while I still have several volumes I need to read, I have read a great deal of Wright's work and listened to countles lectures/sermons he has preached.

When I was given an amazon.com gift card for a Christmas gift, I knew some new N.T. Wright would soon be in my hands. The Case for the Psalms: Why They are Essential was the first volume I read (currently I'm reading How God Became King and after that will be Scripture and the Authority of God.) 

The Case for the Psalms is a small volume--an aspect that sort of bothered me--but it is a Wright's call for the church to return to the Hebrews Psalter. I agree. I think there is not enough use of the Psalms in the worship (except for a rather shallow use) or in the church in general. Jesus taught us the value--a terrible word--of the Psalms when he uttered in prayer Psalm 22 while was being crucified. Why don't we pray the Psalms in the church? Maybe we are afraid of the language of the psalmists who pray prayers about God destroying enemies and bashing the heads of babies against rocks. Maybe the Psalms are too personal for us in the West.

How does a Christian, not least a modern Christian who values our developed Western democracy, pray these lines? (44)

There is a reason the Psalms use this language--and worse--in prayer to God. It validates our experience, it confirms our pathos, and justifies our wailing, gut-wrenching pleas to God: is there anything we can say to God that is offensive when offered in the context of prayer?

That is why this book is not so much an invitation to study the Psalms--though that, too, is an immensely worthwhile exercise--but to pray and live the Psalms. (22)

The Psalms seem to think not, and if we do not have words of our own to express our deepest anger, grief, pain, or joy we have the Psalms. What better place can we go to find words to offer back to God?

Another important aspect of Wright's thoughts is that the Psalms are more than mere words on paper. The Psalms are transformative--when practiced continuously, carefully, and predictably, the Psalms change us:

And the Psalms are there to enable people not only to become aware of this possible change but actually to help bring it about. (158)

It is a matter for all of us to take seriously. I have begun this very thing: reading 5 Psalms per day, in order, throughout the day instead of all at one sitting.

Finally, as with everything Wright puts on paper or into the air, the Psalms are about showing us Jesus:

Here is the challenge for those who take the New Testament seriously: trying singing those Psalms christologically, thinking of Jesus as their ultimate fulfillment. See how they sound, what they do, hwere they take you. (110)

The book fits nicely with Wright's theology of God becoming king. In fact, it is an invitation for the reader of the Psalms, the pray-er of the Psalms, the singer of the Psalms to get in sync with God in space, time, and matter. The Psalms teach us how to 'offer ourselves as living sacrifices' (Romans 12). The Psalms teach us to number our days.

The aspect of this book that I enjoyed the most was the last chapter where Wright makes a connection between the Psalms and his life. I thoroughly enjoyed learning about his life and the things that have shaped him. Yet what I found is that he always tied his life to Scripture. Wright lets down the curtain for a minute or two and allows us to see his humanity--that side of him that has been shaped by Scripture, not just the side of him who has made understanding Scripture his life.

I actualy found myself doing this just yesterday when we found ourselves 'trapped' in the house due to frighteningly cold temperatures and a power outage. I had been reading through Psalms 8 through 12 during the day and shortly after the power went out, I found myself reading Psalm 11: "In the Lord I can take refuge" (v 1). It was cold. It was getting colder. The house was empty because my wife and sons had gone to warm houses. It was dark. Yet 'in the Lord I could take refuge.' It was a lot of comfort during a short period of physical discomfort ot hear those words at just the right time.

It made me wonder how many times I had missed hearing God's voice in other difficult, disastrous, or discomfitting times.

Only a couple of things bothered me about the book itself. One, I wish the book had been larger and longer. I read it in a day and wish it had taken me two. It felt rushed. Two, I wish the section dividers had been more than a mere double-space. Some headings would have made the text flow and connect better.

I rate this book 5/5 stars simply because if it did nothing else, it gave me the courage to start reading the Psalms all over again. And to pray them too. Which means I have started learning how to talk to the Father again.

 

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