Showing posts with label Psalm 27. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalm 27. Show all posts

Friday, July 27, 2018

TURN ON THE LIGHTS! (Psalm 27)


(A continuing series on 48 psalms recommended by pastor/counselor David Seamands for getting through depression.)
I was a young teen piano student when I was first introduced to Psalm 27, via the 1897 musical version of English songwriter Mary Frances Allitsen. The piano score I tried to learn (my small hands couldn’t reach all the chords) starts out with grandiose chords, then settles down to reverential quiet before returning to a loud, assuring recap repeating the psalm’s opening verse:
The Lord is my light and my salvation,
Whom, then, shall I fear?

Years later as I read, re-read, and tried to “own” this psalm as hope in my difficulties, I realized how little of its stalwart truths I understood.
This psalm, attributed to David, is full of hope and strength as it expresses how God’s presence leads to the inner resources to overcome fear in difficult experiences. But its most poignant verses start with the simple phrase, “One thing.” The “one thing” the author wants above all else is to stay close to God. How does one do that? David describes it the best way he can, as dwelling in the safety of God’s house, meaning His presence.  

The psalm opens with a panned shot of David's enemies coming at him.  Then quickly, even as war breaks out against him, he finds safety and peace in the presence of God. And it’s not just the sword/knife/spear-wielding wild guys. Verse 12 points to verbal abuse, something I’ve experienced at different times in my life:
They accuse me of things I’ve never done and breathe out violence against me. (New Living Translation)
Unlike flesh-and-blood battles of old, where casualties decided how long a fight would go on, we don’t always see the “end” of our invisible battles. That’s why Psalm 27 leaves us with the reminder to “turn on the lights”—to reaffirm the Lord as our light and salvation:
I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD, be strong and take heart, and wait for the LORD. (v.13-14).
If you want to read this psalm in a fresh and inspiring way, go back through it as an account of the life of Jesus Christ, particularly His suffering and death. Bible teacher and author William McDonald (1917-2007) in his Believer’s Bible Commentary saw many parallels. For example, Psalm 27:2 talks of enemies stumbling and falling when they tried to attack. Even more was that true of Christ’s arrest as recorded in Luke 18:6. When the rascals Judas rounded up came to the Garden where Christ had prayed, He identified Himself. Then, “When Jesus said, ‘I am he,’ they drew back and fell to the ground.”  

Tracing the parallels to Jesus’ last hours serves as a poignant reminder that He understands and has gone before us through all the mucky and murky stuff that life can throw at us through incidents and people. That’s also the reminder of Hebrews 12:2-3:
Run with perseverance….fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  For the joy set before him, he endured the cross…consider him who endured such opposition from sinners so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Friday, March 14, 2014

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   

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Night light

Not just any night light would do for Zach—or so I learned one night as I tucked my toddler son in bed. As a no-frills parent (for the most part), I’d picked up a cheap, basic-white night light to allay those inevitable fears in the night. For several months it served well. Then came the night it wasn’t good enough. He’d enjoyed a bath with his favorite rubber ducky and “Bucky Beaver” washcloth. We had “story time” and prayed, or as much as possible with a toddler who barely talked. Then, to my surprise at “lights-out,” he fussed about his night light. To answer my “what’s wrong?” he toddled out of bed, found a certain sale catalog in the paper stack, and pointed out to me the ad for a green “glow worm”-character night light.

“You want that?” I asked. His very serious toddler face told me I’d figured it out. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to the store,” I said. “Not tonight.” I wasn’t sure if my voice sounded like the whomp womp womp of adults in Peanuts cartoons, but he seemed assured. How did he ever decide his life wouldn’t be complete without this nightlight? I guess either his dad or I had used this sale circular for lap time reading, maybe to point out names of items in the ad as part of language building. A photo became a “want.” He grew up with that night light glowing for years in his bedroom. It even went to college. Now it’s in a kitchen outlet of the home he shares with his wife. Seeing it when I visit them makes me smile to think of his very young consumer choices.

I also think about my older-adult needs for a “night light.” Yes, I need the “real thing” in the hall for nighttime treks to the bathroom, to keep me from falling over the cat who sometimes sleeps right in the middle of the hall. I also need a spiritual “night light” for life’s dim and dark places. I depend on the assuring presence of One who called Himself the Light of the World, who said He would never leave me nor forsake me.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation,” David proclaimed (Psalm 27:1). Long one of my favorite psalms, it’s full of rich and encouraging images of God’s protection and sustaining power. I consider my unworthiness as the psalmist speaks of God’s searchlight on my heart (verses 7-12). Then I find comfort in the confident claim of God’s trustworthiness in turmoil and trouble, even when the solution to our problems seems slow in coming: “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.”

My favorite part of the psalm is verse 4, where David writes of gazing “on the beauty of the Lord.” It always makes me pause in wonder of what’s ahead in Heaven. I know this: no night lights needed. All will be bright as we behold the glory of God!