Double illumination

Because my husband was once part of an international layman’s Bible distribution ministry, we tend to check drawers for Bibles when we rent a room at motels. We weren’t disappointed during a recent overnight stay. But there was something else in the drawer: a “light stick” for emergencies. That made sense for a remote facility where winds or heavy snow could take down the power grid for a time.

I’m not quite sure of the chemistry behind them, but they apparently glow enough to help you find your way around.  The good side is they don’t rely on batteries. The bad: they’re disposable.  One used, they must be tossed, never to light up again. As soon as I saw the light-stick, I thought of one of my first Bible memory verses.  Perhaps you already guessed:

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. (Psalm 119:105)

Written before electric lights, flashlights, or even chemical light wands, the Bible has many references to light. Among them:

The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes. (Psalm 19:8)
The entrance of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple. (Psalm 119:130)
For these commands are a lamp, their teaching is a light, and the corrections of discipline are the way to life. (Proverbs 6:23)

Jesus called Himself “the Light of the World” (John 8:12). The apostle John, his understanding of spiritual truths shaped by the Light of Jesus, made frequently used the analogy:

This is the message we have heard from Him and declare to you: God is light and in Him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5)

Here’s an idea.  Take your Bible and a highlighter (the waxy type, sold in bookstores, doesn’t bleed through thin paper). Highlight all the references to “light” in the book of 1 John. Then go over to Revelation 22:5, which is the vision of Heaven John received:

There will be no more night.  They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.

 It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around that.  I won’t need my Bible in heaven!  All confusion and mysteries will be past, and what is now just a shadow will be fully known in the blazing, glorious presence of God Himself!

PERSONAL NOTE:
This week our family experienced a special "light": the birth of a granddaughter named "Eleanor," which coincidently means "light."  What a joy to hold this little one born to our daughter and husband, marvel at God's creative power in the womb, and anticipate what's ahead.  She's our third "grand" after two boys, now 3 1/2 and 22 months, born to our son and wife.  Because I married later in life, it's an extraordinary privilege to live to "grandparent" and influence another generation.

Sending the light

Second of a series based on photos taken in Kaua’i, the Hawaiian islands.

A postcard perfect sight, a classic lighthouse grips a cliff above the Pacific Ocean near the north shore town of Kilauea. It’s a few miles east of the island’s famed, steep and dangerous NaPali coastline, where huge cliffs plunge right to the sea. Only the brave and fit venture to hike the trail that links the ends-of-the-road on the north and west sides of Kuai’i. Tourists who can afford it take the helicopter tours along the picturesque, wild coast.

The lighthouse reminded me of Jesus’ proclamation in John 8:12:

I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.
It also brought to mind three well-known hymns and Gospel-songs about our spiritual Lighthouse.

 “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning,” by prolific Gospel musician Philip Bliss, was inspired by a sermon he heard evangelist D.L.Moody preach in 1871. Moody told a story of a ship approaching the harbor on a dark, stormy night.  The captain saw a light from a lighthouse. But no lower lights, which would mark the way into a harbor, were lit.  The pilot missed the channel into the harbor, and the boat wrecked on the rocks with much loss of life.  Moody appealed to his audience, “Brothers, the Master will take care of the great lighthouse! Let us keep the lower lights burning!” In other words, keep showing the way to the unsaved.  A stanza of Bliss’s hymn concludes:

Let the lower lights be burning! Send a gleam across the wave!
Some poor struggling, sinking sailor you may rescue, you may save!

 “Send the Light” came from the pen of Charles Gabriel, whose output included seven thousand hymns. While leading music at a San Francisco church, he was asked to compose a missionary hymn for Easter Sunday. A visiting missionary representative was in the congregation for its debut performance in 1890, and liked it so much he carried it back to the East. Many still know the hymn whose chorus goes:

Send the light, the blessed Gospel light,
Let it shine from shore to shore....forever more.

 “The Lighthouse,” a Southern Gospel-style song, was composed by Ronnie Hinson in 1970 in a most unlikely place: the men’s restroom of a church where he and his siblings were practicing for a concert.  They needed a new song for their concert, and thought Ronnie was kidding when he said he was going to the restroom for some inspiration.  He came back with the words he’d written on a length of toilet paper. The siblings added accompaniment, and the song became a hit. Here’s a strange twist: he had never seen a lighthouse before until later, when he biked thirty miles to Santa Cruz, Calif., and saw the Pigeon Point Lighthouse. For him, it reinforced the hand of God in this memorable song about salvation.

 
Burn the lower lights...send the light...Jesus as the lighthouse: what soul-touching music has risen from the tasks of a beacon tower on a rugged shore

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 56: Fears and Tears

A "tear bottle" gift, symbolizing God's
watch-care and profound love

Part of a continuing series on selected psalms.
If you’re at a point where you wonder if life can get any worse, or if you can even hang in there now, this is your psalm. It bleeds with David’s despair over his circumstances and mistreatment by enemies. They’d like him dead. Emotionally wrung out from so many negatives, David lets the tears flow. But he also clings to his last shred of hope: God’s faithfulness.

Like several other psalms (including #34, March 28 blog), Psalm 56 records David’s life-threatening predicament in seeking refuge among tribal enemies, the Philistines (1 Samuel 21:10-15). David had gone alone to Gath, thinking mad King Saul wouldn’t pursue him there. But David was recognized as the one who slayed their native son, the giant Goliath. The introduction to this psalm says the enemy seized him, and the first few verses list hot day-long pursuit, attacks, twisted words, conspiracy, lurking, and eagerness to take his life.

You can almost hear his sighs of hopelessness—indeed, the prelude hints at a melody of sadness when it directs musicians to sing it to the tune of “A Dove on Distant Oaks.” The original tune is unknown, but in Psalm 55 David had prayed, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest—I would flee far away and stay in the desert!” He may have identified with the mournful coos of doves, and wished he could fly like them at will to another place. But he couldn’t. Yet out of this place of deep frustration and fear, David finds hope in God. The legacy of Psalm 56 is several verse-gems that, by themselves, have comforted and held steady millions through the ages who also needed to affirm God’s faithfulness.

FEARS AND TRUST

“When I am afraid,” David wrote (v. 3-4), “I will trust in you.  In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid.  What can mortal man do to me?”  In Psalm 55, he had also expressed this idea of trust: “Cast your cares on the LORD, and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall” (55:22). I wonder if these were verses the prophet Isaiah also memorized, as he wrote many years later: “You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you” (Isaiah 26:3). And certainly, these verses were part of the spiritual fiber of the early church leaders. Peter wrote, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). The author of Hebrews quoted, “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:6).

In a quick reading of this psalm, it’s easy to miss another message in verses 10-11, which seem to repeat verses 3-4.  In both, David counsels trusting in God and His Word. In David’s time, that was the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible) and maybe Joshua and Judges.  How blessed we are to have not only those, but Psalms and 58 other books of scripture! There’s one tiny word change in verse 10, but it means a lot.  Instead of “in God, whose word I praise” (v. 4), David wrote, “In the LORD, whose word I praise.”  “God” was from a word referring in general to the great God of the universe. “The LORD” was the covenant name of God, which reflected His promises to watch-care His own. In that tiny word, change, David was reminding us of God’s personal and trustworthy care.  How much we need such reminders when the odds seem stacked against us!

Note, too, that David trusts in God and His Word.  I cannot begin to tell you how many times a previously-memorized scripture has come to mind just as the time I needed its reminder of God’s watch-care and direction. David praised God’s Word. He proclaimed its beauty and holy purpose. Should we not do the same?

TEARS AND TRUST

The other memorable portion is verse 8, rendered by King James translators as “Thou tellest my wanderings, put thou my tears in thy bottle; are they not in thy book?” The original Hebrew is a bit sketchy here (original manuscripts had no vowels or pronunciation guides), causing other translators to offer, “Record my lament; list my tears on thy scroll—are they not in thy record?”  Those leaning toward the "tear bottles" translation should know that they were common about a thousand years after David wrote this psalm.  Mourners filled small glass bottles or cups with their tears, placing them in tombs as symbols of respect. Sometimes hired “criers” filled the bottles!  The custom reappeared during the American civil war and in Victorian times.
 

However you translate that portion, these truths emerge.  God does keep track of our circumstances. God does see our every sorrow.  If God had a “tear bottle” (and it would be huge), we’d know how much He loves us and how diligently He takes note of our difficulties.  When He permits hardship and trials, it’s because He knows we will grow in faith through them. It’s a beautiful symbol that we can still use today in comforting those going through unspeakable pain. One of my friends beautifully packages little glass bottles as a comfort gift to those experiencing profound loss.  Her note to them references Psalm 56:8. Several years ago she gave a “tear bottle” with a note about Psalm 56:8 to a young woman who had lost her mother in a car wreck. The young woman still has the bottle, and recently mentioned to my friend how meaningful that gift was.

THANKS AND HOPE

Psalm 56 ends with the plea, “Be merciful to me,” and a huge list of terrorizing circumstances.  Then it concludes with thanksgiving and hope. David acknowledges God’s hand in sparing him from death.  He knows God has a purpose for his life: “that I may walk before God in the light of life” (v. 13). This was a prophetic statement, looking forward to the Messiah, Jesus Christ, who would call Himself the light of the world: “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). As customary for profound thanks, David wanted to offer up a “thank offering.”  This was a special sacrifice in which part was reserved to share in a meal with family and friends. 

We don’t need to wait until “Thanksgiving” in November to express our thanks to God. It should be a part of every meal (many of us do, anyway, by preceding a meal with a prayer of thanks).  As we look at a lovingly-prepared meal and inhale its fragrance, may we be reminded that every good gift is from above. That includes God’s presence and hope in our most desperate times.

 

Next: Psalm 63.

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 27: Light

Part of a continuing series of selected Psalms.
When I sense cares and worries trying to take over, I check my “light intake.”  Are the curtains and blinds open during the day, so I get enough sunshine? Am I augmenting that with walks to ward off Seasonal Affective Disorder (with its appropriate acrostic SAD)?   More important, am I seeking  the spiritual “light therapy” of Psalm 27?  Best known for its opening line, “The Lord is my Light,” Psalm 27 is for any of us who need the reminder that God is greater than life’s dark times. The psalm’s subtitle simply says, “Of David.” The descriptions of danger fit the years David lived in constant fear of being killed before assuming the throne. The middle section of the psalm contains a “lament” or woe-is-me section. But it’s sandwiched by affirmations that God is on his side.

I find it interesting that the composer of a famous operatic rendering of Psalm 27 also struggled with life. Mary Francis Allitsen (1848-1912) hoped to make a living as musician, but her family was hostile toward that choice. She suffered health issues, including the loss of her singing voice, yet managed to have several musical compositions published and performed. Her “The Lord is My Light,” published in 1897, is based on Psalm 27:1-6. But to fully understand Psalm 27, we need verses 7-14. After David expresses confidence in God (vv. 1-6), he admits his anxious fears (7-12), then returns to trusting God (13-14). Each part has a generous portion of memorable phrases and truths.

LIGHT, SALVATION, STRONGHOLD

Verse 1, “The Lord is my light,” is the only time in the Old Testament that God is actually called “light.” The metaphor appears more frequently in the New Testament. John began his gospel referring to God as “light” (John 1:4, 9). He repeated it in his epistle: “God is light” (1 John 1:5). Jesus even called Himself “the light of the world” (John 8:12). Revelation 21:23 says heaven’s illumination will be God, “for the glory of God gives it light.” It’s a metaphor that defies a simple definition, characterizing God’s purity, power to dispel darkness, joy, life and hope.

David also calls God “my salvation,” or deliverer. God is a “stronghold” (“strength” in the KJV), from a Hebrew word for a fortified place. The point is that God isn’t “out there” when life get hard. Because He is with us, we need not fear. The New Testament counterpart to this is Romans 8:31: “If God is for us, who can be against us?” No matter the strategy of the enemy—a quick attack or a long siege—David placed his trust in God to carry him through.

The source of David’s amazing trust is fellowship with God (vv. 4-6). As a fugitive, David couldn’t worship at “God’s house” in Jerusalem (then a sacred tent sheltering the ark; the magnificent temple wouldn’t be built until Solomon’s time). Although yearning for the energy of corporate worship in Jerusalem, David found ways in his wilderness exile to draw close to God.  In expressing a desire to “dwell in the house of the Lord” (v. 4), David may have been thinking of hospitality customs of his times. In the ancient Near East, when someone welcomed another into his tent, he took responsibility for the visitor’s protection and provision. David put that frame on his relationship with God: “For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling” (v. 5). He adds the picture of being safely perched on a strong, high rock that enemies cannot scale (v. 5).

DARK, LONELY, VULNERABLE

 Right after this magnificent declaration of trust, David rides a pendulum to the other side. The darkness seems to hide God’s face, a symbol of divine favor. David realizes he’s a sinful human, calling out to a holy God. This sounds a lot like what we might hear today from people: “I’m not good enough for God to hear my prayer,” or “I never got into this God-thing.  Why would He listen to me?” Such comments miss the truth of God’s mercy.

In imagining God’s rejection, David also felt very lonely, like a child rejected by his parents. As far as known, David’s parents never disowned him. But this verse has resonated with many people who had imperfect parents who weren’t there for them or who hurt them physically or emotionally. This “what-if” has a hopeful ending: “Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me” (v. 10). God is the perfect parent—a fact that has helped many people wounded by their families. David also felt vulnerable before foes who used both physical and verbal weapons (vv. 11-12). He was anxious and discouraged, the emotional opposites of his opening declarations of confidence.

 

RETURN TO CONFIDENCE

The psalm has a real-world ending. Our life stories don’t always take the plot lines we desire. Good people suffer. Bad people seem to win—for now. But God is still on the throne. He does answer prayer—either “yes,” “no,” “another way,” or—as this psalm points out, “wait”:
            Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. (v. 14)
David could be satisfied without instant solutions because He believed that God, as light, was at work in dispelling the dark fears and anxieties of his life. Right now, the curtains of life seemed locked shut. But He trusted God in the darkness, and in faith was willing to wait. How much like the New Testament’s definition of “faith”: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1)!

Psalm 27 teaches us to take things a day at a time with God. Faith and trust are the cords that can part the curtains of our “Sin Affective Disorder,” letting the brilliance of God’s perfect light pour in.    

Next time: Psalm 32