RENDER (Psalm 116)

I have one bed of iris that rarely bloom (blame my black thumb!), 

but this rogue lily yearly pops up in the midst of them. Being red,

they make me think of "the Lamb of God, who takes away

the sin of the World."

(Part of an ongoing series of the 48 psalms recommended for study during times of "feeling down," from pastor-counselor David Seamands' book "Healing for Damaged Emotions.")

A classic Peanuts cartoon shows Lucy harassing Linus.  He groans, “Aaugh!” and rips his shirt apart. In the final panel, he declares, “Thou hast caused me to rend my garment!” I’d call that “expressing anger” with, ah, destructive enthusiasm. Psalm 116 has one verse that could be described as “anger”—“all men are liars” (v. 11) but the rest of it hinges on a word close to “rend,” but with a different meaning: “render,” to give back or restore.

RESCUED

God probably hears many prayers that begin, “Things are a mess and getting worse. Help!” But here, instead of woe, the psalmist begins with wonder and praise:

I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy,

Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live.(vv. 1-2)

Pagan faiths don’t have such access to God. They hope their god(s) is(are) in a hearing mood when they do their sacrifices and routines. Our God doesn’t have office hours. He’s 24/7, anywhere.

The psalmist then relates a situation where his life was in danger. “The cords of death entangled me,” a metaphor also used in David’s Psalm 18:4, graphically depicts a desperate situation. But the psalmist’s reaction was to call “on the name of the LORD,” and he experienced God’s compassion in his great need. Significantly, he called himself “the simplehearted” (v. 6). Our inscrutable God is accessible to us, the “simplehearted”!  

RENDERED

News media sometimes relate how a stranger saved someone in a dangerous situation. The “rescued” wants to express deep gratitude to the “rescuer,” but has no name or contact information. The psalmist, however, knew just Who to thank for his “rescue.”   In  his time and culture there was a religious rite called the “fellowship offering” of meat, bread and wine to render thankfulness to God . (Explained in Leviticus 3, 7:11-21, it’s also called “thank offering” or “sacrifice of thanksgiving.”) Besides sacrificing an animal as a token of the person’s gratitude, the priest would pour out a portion of wine to symbolize a life poured out to God (the “cup of salvation,” v. 13). Part of this food offering was set aside for the person and his family to eat—truly a “thanksgiving” meal (without a turkey!).

RELEASED

For me, the most precious verse in this psalm is this:

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. (v. 13)

I will never forget my dad sitting by my mother’s hospital bed in her last comatose hours before dying of cancer at age 59. Weary from his “last watch,” he opened a Bible and read this psalm aloud to her, not knowing if she could even hear. His voice broke at this verse. Such a hard, wrenching moment—yet it was “precious” in that this Christian woman would soon know “the other side” of being with the Lord.

I’ve heard it said that a believer’s death is “not an accident but an appointment.” Psalm 139:16 says God has ordained all our days. Psalm 39:4-5 recognizes the fleeting character of life. Psalm 90:12 speaks of our numbered days. Our lifespan is in God’s hands.

What should be our response? To declare, as verse 1 says, “I love the Lord.” Life on this planet will never be perfect until God turns everything upside down at the end of time and brings forth the new heavens and new earth. But, for now, He bids us look around and recognize His hand of grace and help. 

The last line of this psalm is significant: “Halle lujah” (Hebrew for “Praise the Lord”). When life drags us down, we’re more apt to do the Linus shirt-ripping trick (“Aaugh!”). Psalm 116 reminds: don’t rend your garment.  Render praise.

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 116: Precious

Delicate wildflowers, flourishing on the forest's decay,
a picture of new life from death

Part of an ongoing series on selected psalms.

It was the last place I wanted to be: beside my mother’s deathbed. She was only 59 as cancer knocked her down for the last time. My dad’s call had come that afternoon at my workplace, a three-hour drive away.  “Come as soon as you can,” he pleaded. When I reached home barely four hours later, a neighbor was waiting to take me to the hospital in the next city. Sometime during our death-watch that night, Dad opened a Bible and read to her. I’ve since learned that hearing is one of the last senses to go, so I believe she did hear his voice, though her struggle to breathe may have fogged the words. But these were words that I needed to hear as well:

What shall I render unto the LORD for all his benefits toward me?
I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the LORD.
I will pay my vows unto the LORD now in the presence of all his people.
Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. (Psalm 116:12-15 KJV)
About 2 a.m. a nurse suggested we go home and get some sleep. “She could last another day,” the nurse said.  So I drove my exhausted father home. He went to bed, I settled on the couch so I could hear the phone. The nurse’s call telling of Mom’s death came about 4 a.m. Though I would have wished to be with her at the end, I knew that she was truly not alone.  Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints, and surely His presence was in that hospital room.

To this day, I cannot read Psalm 16 without tears. Yet I have discovered that it offers a good portion of hope and praise. It is positioned in the book of Psalms as one of the “Hallel” psalms, which includes Psalms 113 through 118.  “Hallel” means “praise,” and these psalms were intended to sung on holy days. Psalms 113-114 were sung before the Passover meal, and 115-118 as the meal closed. They were also sung at major Jewish feasts. Two gospels detail how Jesus led His disciples in the Passover meal (what we now call “The Last Supper”), and afterwards, “when they had sung  a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives” (Matt. 26:20, Mark 14:26). These psalms, including Psalm 116, were among the last to come from the Savior’s lips before His arrest, trials and crucifixion.  And truly, precious in the sight of the Lord was the death of His only Son.

The psalm hinges on two big ideas: deliverance and thanksgiving.

DELIVERANCE (VV. 1-11)

The opening verse sets the tone of gratitude for deliverance: “I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy” (116:1). He backs this up with descriptive language of a tough, even life-threatening situation: “cords of death,” “anguish of the grave,” “overcome by trouble and sorrow.” Some Bible teachers wonder if this might describe the sickness, perhaps an infected boil, that took King Hezekiah to the brink of death before the “poultice of figs” was applied (Isaiah 38).  The psalm doesn’t list an author, so that’s just conjecture. But it could represent any of us who walk in a doctor’s office to a sobering diagnosis, or have our lives flipped upside down in an accident.

The author spends little time on his ailment, but more on God’s perspective. “Then I called on the name of the LORD: ‘O LORD, save me!” In “calling on the name of the Lord,” he describes God’s character: gracious, righteous, full of compassion, protective of the simple-hearted (vv. 5-6). Praising God’s character lifts him above “demanding” prayer.

A word on “simple-hearted” (Hebrew: petî)—it refers to silly and gullible people. To say God regards the “simple-hearted” in their foolish or ignorant ways reminds us that we come to Him without any merit of our own, except through His Son.

The bottom line is that God hears the prayers of the helpless. This psalm’s writer found himself “in great need”—a tearful, stumbling, life-or-death matter. He had a miserable outlook, saying all men are liars (v. 11).  God saw through all that, and reached down to help him.

THANKSGIVING

As the writer considers what God has done for him, he responds with thanksgiving:
How can I repay the LORD for all his goodness to me; I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD. (vv. 12-13)
This verse is a rhetorical question.  How can we “repay” God for His goodness? We can’t. It is impossible. But the psalm writer was compelled to express his thanks some way, and so he turned to a ritual of his time, described in Leviticus 7:11ff and Deuteronomy 12:17ff.  He would bring a “thank offering” (an unblemished animal) to the sanctuary for sacrifice. In part of the ritual, the priest would pour a portion of wine on the altar, symbolizing the worshipper’s life poured out before the Lord.  This is the “cup of salvation.”  The priest also kept back part of the meat from the slaughtered, sacrificed animal for the worshiper to share in a special joyful feast with family and friends. During that feast, he’d express public thanks for God’s mercy and love. 

Verse 15, which touched me so deeply at my mother’s deathbed, has prompted a lot of discussion among Bible teachers:

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.
“Precious” also means “costly.” The death of a “saint” reminds us that sin brought death into the world, but Christ’s death brought eternal life to those who trust in Him.  His death (and resurrection) was costly beyond all understanding. A saint’s death is “precious” to God because it means that person will come to enjoy His presence. Like the psalmist, Paul wrestled with the possibility of dying soon when he wrote his letter to the Philippians. His only desire was that Christ be exalted either by his life or his death. “I desire to depart and be with Christ,” he said, “which is better by far” (Philippians 1:23). 

It is human to fear death. I will never forget the night a drinking driver nearly wiped out my family. But it is the privilege of a believer to trust God for the timing of death. He permits us to stay on earth until He sees that our work here is finished.  We may die of disease or an accident, but the timing is no surprise to God. And after that, “to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). That transition is precious to God.

And so the psalmist ends at this feast in which he praises God. Apparently it happens in the temple courts (v. 18), where his friends and family and more will hear his story. The psalm concludes, “Praise the Lord,” which in Hebrew is, “Hallelu-jah.” The phrase is common to all of the “Hallel” psalms (113-118) and that is appropriate.  For whether we are making a costly public declaration of faith (like the psalmist’s sacrifice-feast) or quietly witnessing the transition of earthly life to eternal rest, the focus of our hearts should be God Almighty, who loves to hear us lift up His name.

Next: Psalm 118

 

PRRRRRaise!



The full quote of sign on our porch:
"When I count my blessings, I count
 you twice." The cat's "blessing" was
probably a sunny spot to nap!

 The family cat was waiting when I slipped out of bed early for private time with God. As I headed to the kitchen for tea, he followed with a crescendoing purr. It had something to do with “plop of wet cat food in dish.” As he ate and purred, and I opened my Bible, I thought how that’s the attitude I want for God-time. Prrrrraise…anticipating, then savoring.

If our cat counted blessings for Thanksgiving, there would be just some broad categories: food, brushing, warm lap, private sleeping corner, the great outdoors in moderation.

We have so much more to inspire our thanks. Although its message has been blurred by the traditions of turkey and football, Thanksgiving is still about giving thanks. Or, as ancient Asaph of the temple music department put it, “Sacrifice thank offerings to God, fulfill your vows to the Most High” (Psalm 50:14).

I’ve been spending more time in psalms lately, and want to suggest some praise psalms for your reading list as Thanksgiving approaches. Here are seven, one for each day until Nov. 22.

Psalm 30, David’s composition for the dedication of the temple. I like how it contrasts life’s dark times with its hope. My favorite verse: “For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning” (30:5). Thank God for bringing you through a dark time in your life.

Psalm 34, by David, when he pretended to be insane for his safety (1 Samuel 21). After getting out of that too-close-for-comfort danger, he sang out huge stanzas of praise. My favorite verses: “Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together” (34:3, also our wedding verse). “Those who look to him are radiant” (v. 3). “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (v. 8). “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (v. 18). Praise God for His protection.

Psalm 40, by David, another hymn about protection. Most memorable image: “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand” (v. 2). For a real-life example of this many years later, go to Jeremiah 38 and read of the prophet’s sinking punishment. Another: “I do not conceal your love and your truth from the great assembly” (v. 10b). Share with someone or a group about a time when God helped you.

Psalm 65, by David, packed full of praises for God’s work among people and in nature. Favorite verse: “You crown the year with bounty” (v. 11). Thank God for His benevolent care through food and shelter.

Psalm 103, another by David. It lists blessing after blessing. One precious to many is forgiveness: “As far as the east is from the west, so far as he removed our transgressions from us” (v. 2). Pick one blessing from the psalm’s list to praise God.

Psalm 107, no author listed, recounting God’s powerful plan seen in history. Key verse: “Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men” (v. 8). With today’s perspective on yesterday’s problems or challenges, thank God for His superior plan.

Psalm 116, no author listed, praise for God’s sustaining power in difficulties. Memorable verse: “How can I repay the Lord for all his goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord. I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people” (vv. 12-14). Verse 15 touches the event most have a hard time linking to praise: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” In my mother’s last hours before her death of cancer, my father read this psalm to her. As he came to that verse, I knew she would soon be one of those “precious ones.” I also affirmed that death, though a painful parting on this side, transitions to something wonderful for those who are Christians. If you have loved ones who aren’t yet Christians, pray for their salvation.

Extra credit! Psalm 145 (also by David) is an ABC praise poem (except using the Hebrew alphabet, from aleph to taw). Make an alphabetical list of your own thanksgivings to God.

The Letter Sent in Time

Thirty-four Father’s Days have passed since my father died at age 63. Had he lived, he’d be nearing one hundred. And while I miss him still, the memories come with no regrets because of a letter I wrote just a few months before his sudden death. I turned my experience into an article that must have touched a raw nerve, for it’s been published about twenty times. I’ll condense it here, hoping the message will be something you need, too.

Tears poured down my cheeks as I prepared to write my dad that September morning. In five days he would sit alone on what would have been his 38th wedding anniversary. My mother had died three months earlier of cancer.

I reflected on Dad’s tender heart toward his wife and children. Mom had chronic asthma, which worsened in rainy, moldy Washington state, where they were married. Believing doctors' counsel that she’d do better in sunny southern California (this was late ‘40s, before the smog got bad), he left his job and moved to unknowns in Los Angeles, where I would be born. Although a college graduate, he sold kitchen pots door-to-door until he got work in his chemistry-related profession. Together they worked out frugal solutions to one-income living so that Mom, with her medical issues, wouldn’t have to work. He supported her art and sewing hobbies, even helping her tie quilts and mark hems. Together they served the church and para-church groups.

I remembered his tender heart when at seven I had rheumatic fever and was given a fifty-fifty chance of living. He carried me into church to save my strength. At my mother’s death bed, as she lay struggling to breathe, he read to her from Psalm 116:15, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” As we waited for death, he held her swollen hand until his head drooped in exhausted sleep.

I spent the summer after her June death with him, but he insisted I go forward with plans to start graduate school 2,400 miles away from the family home. I’ll never forget his hug, tears, and prayers as we said goodbyes beside my packed car.

I’d been reading through Paul’s letters in the New Testament. Over and over the apostle had expressed thanks: “I have not stopped given thanks for you” (Ephesians 1:16); “I thank God every time I remember you” (Philippians 1:3); “We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you” (Colossians 1:3); “I thank God, whom I serve, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers” (2 Timothy 1:3).

If Paul could tell his spiritual children how thankful he was for them, why couldn’t I tell my dad how thankful I was for him? Many times, of course, I’d told Dad that I loved him. But now, more than ever, he needed that affirmation. He needed to know why. I found a card at the campus bookstore that said, “Even when you feel alone, God is there.” Inside that card, I poured out my heart, expressing my love for him. I affirmed him for specific ways he cared for Mother, my sister and me. I suggested God had lots more for him to do.

Dad never mentioned getting the card. When I called, he was too emotional to say much. I didn’t dare ask. Ten weeks later, just before Christmas, I got a phone call from my brother-in-law. Dad had died suddenly of a heart attack.

As the single daughter, it fell to me to move home and empty out the family home and handle probate. That had been Dad’s desire before I left; he’d put my name on accounts to facilitate that and showed me where his will was. As I began what would become nearly a year’s task, I wondered about that letter. I asked a close neighbor and friend if he’d ever mentioned a special letter. She said yes, and that it meant a lot to him.

I really wanted to find it, but where, in such a full and cluttered house? January passed, then February as slowly I sorted out his and Mom’s belongings. I found old birthday cards, my grade school papers, and letters ten and fifteen years old. But not that letter. Then in March I got to the closet where luggage was stored. In the pocket of the suitcase he used on a trip just before his death, there it was. He had kept it with him, even on a trip!

I opened it and re-read it. Though tears, I had that sense of “rightness” over my transparent message of appreciation and gratitude. And I thanked God for prompting me to send that note of love—in time.