GRUMPY GRUMP....

My son's cat, "Rosebud," my grumpy model

If you have cruised through life without a grumpy moment, well, what planet did you come from? In my current “Gramma” role I am reminded that the grumpies are a common childhood malady (known to persist in adulthood). Aha, there's a verse for that. Actually, lots of verses. Exodus is riddled with rumbles and grumbles. (What, you're tired of manna? Only thing on the menu. You want to arrive at the Promised Land tomorrow? Sorry, won't happen.) Grr, grr, grr, grr, grr..... And a few hundred years later, after Jesus came and lived out the grumble-free life, one of His disciples repeated the lesson: “Don't grumble against each other, brothers, or you will be judged” (James 5:9). The word translated “grumble” is from a Hebrew word for “groan.”

You know the word, and the attitude. “It's all about ME: my agenda, my preference, my vision for MY happiness, I shouldn't have emotional pain. Everybody should cater to me.” Sorry, but that attitude isn't God-endorsed.

The answer, I think, was expressed well by author-speaker Nancy Leigh Wolgemuth in her book Choosing Forgiveness (Moody, 2006). It's a tough-love book to challenge folks who want the world to revolve around them. Her discussion starts with this reality about pain being an inevitable part of life:

Everyone will get hurt.

Jesus' take on it: “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33).

Paul's re-take on it (to Timothy): “Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

Everybody, she observed, endures some sort of life-pain, some worse than others. “We will all encounter situations,” she said, “that provide fertile ground for resentment and unforgiveness to take root and bloom in our hearts.” But don't stop at that; instead, embrace this principle:

The outcome of our lives is not determined by what happens to us but by how we respond to what happens to us. (Choosing Forgiveness, p. 41)

Take note of three key words: how we respond. Those who blame their unhappiness on life's unwanted circumstances or difficult relationships will slog through their years as unhappy “victims,” a mindset that will never allow them to know real, Christ-based hope or freedom.

Grumpy-grump? Or, “Thank you, Jesus,” “I trust You, Jesus,” “Help me, Jesus”? Authentically partnering with Him, and seeking His transformation of our character, will help win the war against the Grumps.

FORGETTABLE

With blue as my favorite color, it's a “given” that forget-me-nots land in my list of flower “likes.” Until an internet search, I never thought much about their history and symbolism. Their botanical name derives from the Greek words for “mouse” and “ear,” as the leaves resemble a mouse's ear. One old German folktale claims a knight wearing armor was strolling with his lady friend along a riverbank where the tiny flowers grew. In his clumsy effort to pick some for her, he fell in the water. As the river swept him away—unable to swim because of his armor—he allegedly cried out to his lady, “Forget me not!” I'm not sure how true that tale is, but it's interesting. 

In general, forget-me-nots are said to symbolize faithful love, fidelity, remembrance, memory, humility, resilience, and desire for loyalty. As such, they're connected with memorials and fallen war soldiers. England's King Henry IV adopted them as his personal emblem. They were also Princess Diana's favorite blooms, with many planted in her honor at London's Kensington Palace. In some cultures, the flower seeds are given to friends and family to plant in memory of a lost one.

Such history adds a deeper level to the “forget” scriptures I cherish in scripture. They include Philippians 3:13-14: One thing I do: Forgetting that is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

These verses remind me that God knows all, but in graciousness can put that “remembering” aside out of His incomprehensible love. For someone who comes to realize he or she is guilty of multiple and deep sins, the extent of God's grace can restore hope. Many years ago, I was called to the apartment of a sobbing young Christian woman who gave in to her boyfriend's demand for premarital sex. Her guilt over losing her virginity was almost unbearable. The verses that came to mind to share with her (regarding confession and forgiveness) were these:

He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His love for those who fear him; As far as the east is from the west, so far as he removed our transgression from us. (Psalm 103:10-11) 

I know of folks who abuse this scripture. They think, “I'll give in, just this time, then ask the Lord to forgive me. Easy-peasy.” But that's trifling with the holiness and mercy of God.

The other side of the “forgiveness” coin is when someone sins against us, then tries to cover over the offense with a lame apology. It doesn't seem fair to the person who was wounded. But the deeper truth is that God sees every hard-to-forget wounding. In her book Hurt People Hurt People (Discovery House, 2001, p. 208), therapist and author Dr. Sandra Wilson observed: 

Forgiveness is not letting someone “get away” with sin; it's letting Jesus be the judge of it. Forgiving means placing the sins and the sinners into the nail-scarred hands of the only One qualified to judge. In doing so, we are released from the bondage of bitterness that comes after our repeated attempts to exact justice have failed.

And maybe it's appropriate that the clumped blue forget-me-nots are so tiny. The offenses we endure, though big in our minds, are tiny in comparison with the world-heavy sin-burden that Jesus bore on a crude cross. For them. But, more important, for me.

DON'T GO THERE

What do you do when your life is rocked through no fault of your own? I asked that after my family was hit by a drinking driver. Hundreds of miles from home, we had a totaled car and personal injuries. But we survived. The cuts, sprains, and broken teeth got repaired. The emotional and spiritual wounds, however, took time. That's why I was grateful for the principles expressed in a book by another drunk-driver victim, Whitworth College professor Gerald Sittser. One night in 1991, while Sittser drove his family home from an event, they were hit by a drunk driver  who veered into their lane at high speed. That man died—along with Sittser's wife, mother, and one of his four children.

Left a working single parent of three with a huge hole in his heart, Sittser somehow had to move forward. With God's help, he did. His book, A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss (1995) wrestled with the why's of innocent suffering. That was followed in 2000 by The Will of God as a Way of Life (both published by Zondervan). Recently, re-reading that second book, I was struck by the succinct but powerful truth that we grow either better or bitter through hardship. And bitterness is a wretched way to live. Sittser wrote:

There is nothing we can do to change our past. It is as hard as granite, as immovable as a mountain. What is done is done. Regret, bitterness, revenge—none of these can alter what has already happened. No matter how many times we say “if only,” regret cannot alter our past. No matter how bitterly we brood, blame, and accuse, the wrong done to us will remain as it is. No matter how often we rehearse a plot of revenge, we will never be able to reverse the course of events that created our pain in the first place. Regret, bitterness, and revenge will only ruin us. We will become prisoners in our own dark souls, suffocated by our own brooding thoughts. (p. 159)

So what's the solution when bitterness is eating you up from the inside out? Sittser's counsel:

1. Confess your bitterness, failures and responsibilities to God.

2. Be willing to forgive. “The one who suffers the most from bitterness,” Sittser said, “is the one who is bitter. What infection does to the human body, bitterness does to the soul. It consumes. The antibiotic used to treat the disease of bitterness is forgiveness” (p. 163).

Research on mental health, he observed, has affirmed that “forgiveness mitigates depression and anxiety, increases self-esteem, and improves physical health and emotional well-being. It releases people from living in bondage and allows them to live in freedom. Forgiveness heals the soul” (p. 164).

In my case, I made something “good” of something “bad” by speaking out for sobriety for a decade at “education seminars” required of convicted drunk drivers. Sittser brought good out of his nightmare by searching scriptures and encouraging others in their struggles through his thoughtful, articulate writing and speaking.

But we don't need to speak and write to forge a path of healing through pain. This verse has been an anchor for me in my pain: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2:25). The prophet was telling his nation (Judah) not to give up on God, despite a natural disaster (locusts that stripped the land) and impending takeover by an enemy nation.

Bitterness is a dead-end road. If life has brought us pain and sorrow, we can dwell on that and grow more bitter. Or we can shovel up those dead locusts that stripped our lives bare, and—with God's help--plow fresh ground for crops of hope and healthy relationships.

TONGUE-TRIED

My little grandsons have lots of fun with these teeth! But what

an appropriate illustration of an out-of-control mouth.

When the genes that became “me” were assigned, I ended up with a small mouth. I know that’s frustrating when I go in for dental care because I’m constantly asked, “Open wider, please.” Usually I try to make light of it by saying I’m sorry I don’t have the oral width of comedian Carol Burnett—and yes, I strain to “open wider.” It’s just part of how I was “knit together” after conception.

Sadly, my “open wider” dental requests sometimes remind me of a time years ago when somebody mocked that part of my body. I was living for a few months with two other single women. I was thankful to be able to rent their extra bedroom, but we just never got close.  They did come one time to my church, where I sang in the choir. Later, emptying the garbage, I came across a church bulletin from that visit. On it, one of them had written, “She hardly opens her mouth to sing.” That stung. I simply have a small mouth, and with it I do my best to make a “joyful noise.”  I didn’t say anything to them about the note, but that mean criticism was hard to shake.

That wasn’t the only time when someone wounded me with harsh, unfair or untrue words. In some cases, it was someone with a mental illness, and I asked the Lord to help me put that perspective on it. I would pray for them—admittedly, half-heartedly, because they didn’t see themselves as mean. Then somebody brought my attention to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: “”Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me” (Matthew 5:11). If I am truly trying to follow Christ and represent Him to my world, it’s not about me, it’s about Him.

I gained another perspective from a devotional book I’ve been reading that collects writings from godly men and women leaders of the past. This devotion excerpted from the writings of Guigo I (1083-1136), who corresponded with Bernard of Clairvaux. Little is known about his life, but this counsel survived the centuries:

It is a good thing to pray for anyone who confesses and asks for forgiveness.  It is even better to pray for someone who does not yet feel guilty about anything. Ask God to help them notice their sin.  And pray also for those who know they are guilty but will not admit it.  Maybe they are ashamed. Maybe they are actually enjoying their guilt.  Ask God to help them.*

I lost touch with my “small mouth” roommates after that year of sharing a house. But I’m grateful for the reminders God sends me to watch my own mouth. Most important: that I keep a heart tender toward His will for my behavior. Reading proverbs on a regular basis helps with that, with verses like these:

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. Put away perversity from your mouth; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. (Proverbs 4:23-24)

When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise. The tongue of the righteous is choice silver. (10:19)

The lips of the righteous nourish many, but fools die for lack of judgment (10:21)


*Bernard Bangley, compiler, Near to the Heart of God: Daily Readings from the Spiritual Classics (Wheaton: Shaw Publishers, 1998), entry for August 17.

FIRE & FLOOD INSURANCE

Our street got a fire hydrant transplant a few weeks ago. I suppose it’s routine maintenance—you don’t want your house to have a fire and a neighborhood hydrant that only sputters.  The night before, city workers went door-to-door explaining the water main would be cut off, so fill the tub for flushing water and set aside enough drinking and cooking water for the day. The next morning, huge trucks and excavation machines rumbled down the street. If I’d been caring for my grandboys that day, they would have been easily entertained by the excavation parade!

The inconvenience took me back to the few times I’ve been in another country and pure, available water isn’t a given. Certainly that was true thousands of years ago when Isaiah lived in the Holy Land. Though considered to have an arid climate, the desert areas of the Holy Land at times experience cloudbursts that fill and flood creek beds or wadis, leading to dangerous flooding. That probably was in the back of Isaiah’s mind when he wrote of spiritual floods:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. (Isaiah 43:2)

Reading that reminds me of the desperate scenes reported in news media of victims of hurricanes, tidal waves, and floods. But that is not the focus on this passage. It’s when life’s problems overwhelm us, we’re to remember that God will be with us.

There are a lot of things about adversity that I don’t understand. But because of my faith in God’s promise to be with me in and through it, I persevere and hope.

Those who don’t, are prone to blame. Like a runaway flash flood, they harm anyone. I was reminded of that recently in reading Safe People by Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend. The book was first published in 1995 (Zondervan), but its principles still ring true. In a chapter about traits of “unsafe” people, the authors acknowledge that we all at some time or another will experience problems that aren’t our fault. If we’re injured, we need to seek medical help. If we are bereaved, we need to grieve. If the person who wounds us emotionally or physically doesn’t care, and never changes their behavior, we need to work through positional forgiveness.

It’s all hard work, and “unsafe people” don’t want to do all that. “They stay angry, stuck and bitter, sometimes for life,” the authors wrote (p. 37). “When they feel upset, they see others as the cause, and others as the ones who have to do all the changing. When they are abused, they hold on to it with a vengeance and spew hatred for the rest of their lives. When they are hurt, they wear it like a badge. And worst of all, when they are wrong, they blame it on others.”

How much better the faith walk that allows God to change our character, from blamers to blessers. From those who complain about the floods of life, to those who grab onto the life ring of hope. Later in the same chapter, Isaiah wrote:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!  (vv. 18-19)

Far wiser than my town’s street department, God knows when I need some spiritual “maintenance.”  When I allow Him to dig out the corroded parts of my personality, a better life is ahead.

BETRAYED (Psalm 55)

At left, what my hydrangea should have looked like. At right, what was left

of it after two years. It reflects how I felt when I let go of a difficult relationship. 

Part of a continuing series on the 48 psalms that speak to getting through depression, recommended by pastor and author David Seamands (Healing for Damaged Emotions).

It really hurts when somebody you tried to befriend becomes your adversary. You grieve both for the lost relationship and the mental and spiritual brokenness contributing to the other person’s choice of bitterness and anger. Been there, experienced that. Please note: I am not identifying this person in any way—neither gender, age, nor relationship. I pray daily for this person and for their spiritual and emotional healing. But this difficult relationship has personalized Psalm 55 for me.

The psalm expresses David’s profound grief and depression over a friend who turned against him. That friend is presumed to be Ahithophel, his close government counselor who betrayed David by backing his son Absalom’s rebellion.

David was so stranger to betrayal. He started his God-anointed journey to the throne by running away from increasingly-crazed King Saul. At first David was utterly alone, then joined by what I once heard described as the 3-D guys: the “distressed, or in debt, or discontented” (1 Samuel 22:2). David’s chagrin over being viciously betrayed and hunted is also revealed in Psalms 52 and 54 (also “psalms of lament”).  But this psalm comes years later, when  David is king, and experiences anguish over one person who had been his intimate friend.

Learning how David depended on God for staying-power, through hard and depressing situations, modeled for today's believer how to respond when negative people and circumstances leave us despairing of the future.

WHAT LIFE FINDS IN US

I appreciate the wisdom of Bible teacher Warren Wiersbe in his book Be Worshipful (Cook, 2004, p. 196). In discussing this psalm, he observed that David’s difficult pre-king years in the wilderness were excellent preparation for trusting God when he became king. In contrast, David’s son Absalom, who tried to usurp the throne, had grown up in luxury and without a true fear of God. Wiersbe added:

A prosperous life is an easy life until you find yourself in the midst of the storm, and then you discover how ill-prepared you are; for what life does to us depends on what life finds in us.

Blunt and transparent, David began the psalm with descriptions of the negatives he faced. He wished he could fly away from it all and not have to go through it (vv. 6-7). But it is in the “going-through” that we learn how to draw on the strength of the Lord. When all was said and done, David concluded with this verse, echoed in 1 Peter 5:7:

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

David ends with a kick, asking God to drag his enemies into the pit of corruption. Strong language! But today, because of Christ's death for all (including the "hurters" and the "hurt"), we're to pray that those who hurt us will be convicted of their sin and wrongdoing and be reconciled to God. Then, in the next step, that they'll seek reconciliation with those they have wronged. These may be the hardest words they ever say:  “God has shown me how wrong my behavior toward you has been. I want to make a fresh start and turn away from acting like that. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?” The apologies should conveyed in person, if possible. If the sin was on social media, there needs to be a public retraction.

I grieve my "difficult" relationship. Painful memories of their wrongs against me still resurface. Over and over I give them to Jesus, who understands my hurt and their deep need for Him. I continue to pray for the miracle of reconciliation and transformation.

The costliest gift

It never fails: November to December we’re bombarded with ads to buy buy buy. Then comes January with articles about how to climb out of debt. While the world focuses on shopping bills, credit cards and interest fees, little is said about another debt that often grows to almost unbearable proportions. The problem is its personal cost: of admitting breaking trust with someone and asking for that person's forgiveness. It isn't enough to toss a few cents' worth of half-hearted "sorry" at it and consider it "paid." The only lasting solution is to invite Heaven’s debt counselor, the Lord Jesus, into the mess. 

Recently I had the sweet, humbling experience of someone coming to me and admitting a wrongdoing, asking for my forgiveness. This person had falsely accused me, wounding me to the point of tears. I spent a lot of time in prayer about it. Because of Christ’s work in my heart, I sought to “positionally” forgive them. Finally, the face-to-face encounter made real His love for both of us. 

But such forgiveness-events don’t often happen in our broken world. Those who've wrestled with relational transparency may find help in an online article, “Forgiveness: The Possible Impossibility” http://www.wordtruth.net/PDG/Forgiveness.pdf  . One especially meaningful section, on page 7, concerned how to ask for forgiveness. The wrong way includes padding a request for forgiveness with an excuse, like “I was having a bad day,”  “I can’t help myself when I get mad,” or “I was upset because my boyfriend dumped me.” 

The right way, according to the article, involves taking personal responsibility, naming specific sins, showing repentance, announcing Christ-honoring intentions for the future, and asking for forgiveness.  For example, the article suggests:

“I recognize that I have sinned against the Lord and you by (name the specific sins).  It is my intention never again to repeat this offense against you or anyone else.  I repent and will change by doing the following. (Explain your specific plan for change.) I have asked the Lord to forgive me, and I want you to know that I desire your forgiveness as well.  Will you please forgive me?” 

If possible, this should be done in person. This may mean writing out the apology and reading it to the other person. If in-person contact isn’t possible, phone the person. Third choice: by personal letter. Last (and less preferred) choice: e-mail or texting, especially if the wrongdoing occurred via e-mail or texts.

Paul wrote the Romans, “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another….Love does no harm to its neighbor” (Romans 13:8, 10). It’s the best gift possible.

Ever been invited to a Pity Party?

Aren’t pity parties a barrel of fun?  If you’re invited, no question what to bring for a gift: a multipack of tissues.  Seriously, about the only person who enjoys a pity party is the host.  Author Shelly Beach made similar observations in her book I recently read, It is Well With My Soul (Discovery House, 2012). Beach, an articulate author and speaker, survived a brain bleed that should have killed her.  As she continues to live with chronic illness, she offers spiritual guidance for others whose lives and/or health are not perfect.

In an introduction to her chapter on the “victim mentality” she tells about dreading to receive calls from someone who was a chronic complainer.  “Caller I.D.” helped Beach screen her calls, but she couldn’t totally escape this woman who blamed her ailing parents for her problems. Beach observed: “She fails to see that she casts the glare of ingratitude and unforgiveness like high beam headlights. [She] sees everything through the spirit she projects, and her negative attitude can make people reluctant to approach her.”

Beach continues: “I should know.  For many years I wrapped myself in ingratitude and unforgiveness like my favorite winter coat.  They were my protection and insulation against my deficits, faults, and sins.  During the time I was blind to my negativity, others steered around me to escape the poison of my attitude.”

Gratitude, she says, “must be fed by our awareness of what we’ve been given and who we are.  When we don’t allow gratitude and forgiveness to guide us through hurt, loss, and conflict, we become trapped in a self-centered, victim mentality.”

For Beach, answering the call to show gratitude has required working through some pretty tough personal stuff, including long-ago sexual abuse against her and her family. 

What broke the shackles of her own “victim” mentality?

*Seeing her heart as God saw it.

*Letting the Holy Spirit show her the Bible’s truths about her life and attitude.  She remarked: “Scripture taught me that I had to take responsibility for my life and stop blaming God and others for family problems, bumpy friendships, job hassles, and the pain in my life” (p.130).

*Learning how gratitude moves our focus from ourselves to others, freeing us from chains of the past so we can serve out of gratitude for what God has given us.

I once heard it said that the person who organizes a pity party will have a very small guest list.  And maybe a large number of “sorry” RSVPs from people who have something better to do. 

Reconciliation Day

Flowers that bloom at Easter include my favorite, daffodils,
whose trumpet shape reminds me of the verse, "The
trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised" (1 Cor. 15:52).

Everybody knows about April Fool’s Day. But special interest groups have made April the month to make people aware of poetry, autism, math, humor, gardens, guitars (my son will like that!), frogs, the military child, and financial literacy. April 13 is Scrabble day, April 16, Richter scale day; and April 30, the birthday of Eeyore (of Winnie the Pooh fame). Those are all just a sampling. You could celebrate one or two “somethings” all month long.

But one “special day” marks emotional pain. April 2, “Reconciliation Day,” cuts to the core of our spiritual values and compassion. A nationally syndicated advice columnist started it about 25 years ago to encourage her readers to write a letter or call someone to mend a strained or broken relationship. Yet her “advice” is thousands of years old. Jesus said: “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors” (Matthew 6:12 KJV, emphasis added). Or, as put in plainer language: “Forgive us our sins, just as we have forgiven those who have sinned against us” (NLT).

We want to have our sins forgiven. But to reach out to those who have hurt us—and don’t seem to care—that’s another matter revealing how seriously we take our faith. My pastor recently finished a powerful sermon series on the life of Joseph, with the last two messages focusing on Joseph’s forgiveness of his spiteful, reckless brothers. The sermons took me back to when applying Joseph’s story to my own life helped me forgive those who’d hurt me, and to seek forgiveness from those I’d wounded. Such actions are messy, humbling, but necessary if we’re to wear the label of “Christian.”

Wanting to study Joseph more, I checked out of our church library a study by Charles Swindoll, whose church in Fullerton., Calif., I attended in the mid-1970s. Swindoll said this of Joseph’s amazing forgiveness of the brothers who sold him into slavery, recounted in Genesis 45:

Attitude is so crucial in the life of the Christian.  We can go through the Sunday motions, we can carry out the religious exercises, we can pack a Bible under our arms, and sing the songs from memory, yet we can still hold grudges against the people who have wronged us.  In our own way—and it may even be with a little religious manipulation—we’ll get back at them.  But that is not God’s way. (Joseph: A Man of Integrity and Forgiveness, Word, 1998, p. 147)

There’s no guarantee that “forgiveness” will turn things around and result in a warm and loving relationship. We live in a world of sinners, which includes each of us. But those of us who know a Savior, who reconciled us to Himself through the agony of a Good Friday cross, know we’ve been forgiven much ourselves. We cannot fully comprehend the depth of love and divine patience bound up in this, the amazing statement of Easter’s reconciliation:

But God demonstrates his own life for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8 NIV)

How will you celebrate Reconciliation Day?

 

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 133: Harmony

Ancient olive oil didn't come in bottles
like I buy it, but had many uses in the
holy land, including perfumed anointing oil

Part of a continuing series on selected psalms.

“Get along!”  How often had I uttered those words in raising my children? More important, how many times had God challenged me about being the peacemaker, not troublemaker, as I lived in a world of imperfect people, myself included!  “How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity,” Psalm 130 begins. But in reality, we don’t always enjoy that unity.

GRACE  FROM ABOVE

Biblical harmony, Psalm 130 says, is like:
“...precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard, running down on Aaron’s beard, down upon the collar of his robes.” (v. 2)
To appreciate this allusion, it’s helpful to review the ancient texts about the early Hebrew worship system.  When the Exodus from Egypt occurred about 1440 B.C., the emancipated Jews had a sense of the Great High God who brought about this miracle. But the former slaves needed a unifying religious system, which God outlined in revelations to Moses. These included extensive instructions about worship leaders, the worship center (tabernacle) and rituals, detailed in various parts of the books of Exodus through Deuteronomy. The worship system and its procedures helped teach the Hebrews about God’s holiness and man’s sin. One tribe, the Levites, was charged with spiritual care, with only one man and his descendants in the top leadership role as priests.

Furnishings (like altars) and people were commissioned for priestly service by anointing with an  olive oil perfumed with myrrh, cinnamon, fragrant cane, and cassia (Exodus 30:23-33). Leviticus 8 tells how Aaron and his sons prepared for commissioning by bathing and putting on clean, simple tunics with sashes. Then Aaron, as high priest, received extra ceremonial dressing:  a robe, ephod (a type of apron), breastplate with precious stones, and turban-like crown. Finally, Moses anointed Aaron’s head with the special scented olive oil in enough abundance that the oil dribbled from his forehead and on down his clothes. The anointing represented favor from on High, coming down on God’s appointed servants. As Aaron went about his tasks, the powerful fragrance emanated wherever he passed.

This old house in my neighborhood was soon torn down.

Reading of this reminded me of how 1 Corinthians 2:14-15 spoke of a believer’s spiritual “fragrance”:  “Thanks be to God, who…through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.”  But I’ve had my “skunk cabbage” times, too.  One happened in my late twenties when a marginally employed single woman in my church found herself on the verge of homelessness, and asked to move in with me. I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment but agreed, giving her the bedroom (for privacy with her medical and emotional needs) while I slept on the couch. When the “few weeks” became months of free housing, I allowed resentment to grow. Then, to my surprise, I came home from work one night to find she had moved out to another “free” situation. In my hurt, I indulged in the sins of enmity and backbiting. I became like a boarded-up house, almost cut off from the Holy Spirit’s correcting voice. But my habit of scripture reading helped me from persisting in this sin. When I read Matthew 5:23-24, about interrupting one’s worship (leaving a gift at the altar) to be reconciled with someone you wronged, I was stricken by my sin in this relationship.

By now she had moved out of state, but I got her address from mutual friends.  As I wrote a letter owning my part in our rift, and asking her forgiveness, I broke down and cried. When I dropped that letter in the mailbox, a burden slipped off my heart. I didn’t expect to hear from her, but in a few weeks, she replied, forgiving me and asking forgiveness for her wrongs. As I read her letter, I imagined—as never before—the humbling effects that Aaron must have felt in his drenching with holy, aromatic oil. I felt re-anointed, too, for a fresh consecration to God’s work. As God has prompted me to review my past relationships, I’ve been led to write other letters seeking forgiveness.  Some were gracious and dismissed the offense. One never replied, and while I wish there had been closure with that person, God knows my heart.

FRUITFULNESS FROM ABOVE

The second simile in Psalm 130 also expresses God’s favor:
It is as the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion. For there the LORD bestows his blessing, even life forevermore. (v. 3)
Mount Hermon, northeast of the Sea of Galilee and about 130 miles from Jerusalem, at 9,101 feet is the highest mountain in Palestine. Famously heavy dews fall on its slopes, sustaining plant life. In contrast, Mount Zion (Jerusalem) has little rainfall except in September. The first image in the psalm spoke of anointing oil descending over Aaron’s face and onto his vestments. This second image speaks of moisture, so necessary for agricultural fruitfulness, descending from on high. The dew and rains are the work of God. Likewise, the healing that brings unity among God-followers is also a divine work.

It’s worth noting that this poetic study of harmony came from the heart of King David, who lived with more than his share of disharmony. After being anointed king-to-be, he lived on the run from the wrath of King Saul. When he finally came to the throne, he dealt with loyalists to the now-deceased Saul.  Then there were all his wives. Even before Israel had kings, God had declared, “He [a king] must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray” (Deuteronomy 17:17). Scholars find eight “named” wives, believe there were more unnamed, plus his ten concubines.  So many family relationships, and so little time from a husband/dad, understandably led to much dysfunction.

Aside from David’s woes, it’s important to remember that in Bible times, extended families lived in proximity. Grandparents, aunts and uncles were a few tents or partitions away, which allowed for little “personal space” if they didn’t get along. The historical transition from family interdependence to  independent family or single units has brought with it a growing intolerance for one another. 

Perhaps that’s why New Testament teaching on getting along is so appropriate for us. Besides urging the often-dissident Corinthians to be an aroma of Christ in their circle of influence, Paul took great pains in Ephesians 4 to list the negatives he saw in relationships, including “bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (4:31). He urged the Colossian church to “Bear with each other and...forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity” (Colossians 3:13-14).

The message of Psalm 133 also applies to “church wars,” which smolder over issues varying from doctrine (both essential and non-essential) to culturally-affected choices like dress and music. When I walk through the doors of my church, I have my “druthers” about what I see, hear, or think should happen there. But Christ is bigger that my cultural lens.  “In essentials, unity,” wrote the ancient church leader Augustine. “In non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” Or, as I often told my children, “Get along!”—sometimes easier said than done, except for the gracious power of God’s Holy Spirit.

Next: Psalm 138.

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 130: Forgiven

Part of an ongoing series on selected psalms.
Studying Psalm 130 surprised me. For years I thought it was simply about watching and waiting for God to act when I was in trouble--“more than watchmen wait for the morning.” I pictured guards on an ancient city wall, scanning the murky darkness for any signs of an enemy, wanting their long, wearying watch to end. But I don’t see Psalm 130 that way anymore. Instead, Psalm 130 is a wonderful Old Testament anticipation of New Testament redemption. It looks beyond the system of animal sacrifices to the finished work of “redemption” accomplished by Christ on the cross.  Luther called this a “Pauline Psalm” (along with Psalms 32, 51, and 142) because of its emphasis, like the apostle Paul’s teaching, on God’s grace in forgiveness apart from human works. The ex-monk’s preaching of “salvation by grace” led to the Protestant movement, which spurned the legalisms and unbiblical rituals that had crept into the historic church.

Psalm 130 is the sixth of seven penitential psalms (the others are 6, 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, and 143) in which the writer speaks of his sinful nature and need of forgiveness. It’s also the eleventh of fifteen psalms of “ascents,” sung by faithful pilgrims ascending the rugged Judean hills to festivals in Jerusalem. It’s also the only one that literally starts at a spiritual low point: “Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. O Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy” (vv. 1-2).  Eugene Peterson paraphrased this intense emotion in today’s language like this: “Help, God—the bottom has fallen out of my life!” (The Message). The writer is desperate. It’s not enemies lurking just beyond the walls of his life. The enemy is within: his sin. The eight verses of Psalm 130, in dealing with the sin problem, look beyond the Old Testament sacrificial system to God’s “unfailing love” in sending His sinless Son to die for our sins.

 

RECORDS OF SINS

Two four-drawer files flank my desk, full of files of articles, research, speeches, sample copies and research material.  Despite the labeled folders, I’m not sure what’s there any more. Time to clean! In his book I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Joshua Harris told of a vision—“in that place between wakefulness and dreams”—in which he was in a room with endless index-card files. The cards, bearing his own handwriting, described what he’d read, lies he’d told, friends he’d betrayed, and so on. Pulling out a card about “lustful thoughts,” he shuddered at the details, sick that such moments were recorded. He tried to pull the negative cards out to destroy them, but they wouldn’t budge. Feeling defeated and distraught, he noticed one file labeled, “People I Shared the Gospel With.” He opened it to a handful of cards.
That’s when the tears came—deep sobbing that threw him to his knees. He wanted this room locked up where nobody could see it. Then He saw Jesus, who walked up to the wall of files, and signed His name in blood-red ink over the untold millions of accusing cards. Jesus signed all in an instant, put His hand on the sinner’s shoulder, and said, “It is finished.” The person in the parable left with Jesus, to write new “life cards.”

This could be one way to picture Psalm 130:3-4:

If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared.
Never could we stand before God with our mammoth pile of sins. As Paul wrote in Romans 3:10-12, citing Psalms 14 and 53:
 There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God.  All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one.
But with Him there is forgiveness (Psalm 130:4): “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

WAITING WITH HOPE

So what is the psalmist waiting for? What is the long, dark night he hopes will end soon, so much so that he repeats, “more than the watchmen wait for the morning, more than the watchmen wait for the morning”?  It’s not forgiveness. That is granted upon confession. He isn’t waiting for his problems to go away. The problem is his sin problem. When his sins are forgiven, he realizes sin broke his fellowship with God. He is waiting for feelings to follow the fact of reconciliation. He is waiting in faith for intimacy with God to be rebuilt. And it can be, through a life changed through the help of the Holy Spirit and the guidance of Scripture.

He also realizes he’s not the only one with a sin problem who needs God’s forgiveness. He wants his fellow Israelites to know about this, too. After centuries of practicing animal sacrifices to “get right” with God, he yearns for them to go beyond the ritual to the reality of a relationship with the living God. The scripture says:

            “With the LORD is unfailing love” (v. 7b).  He doesn’t sit in Heaven with walls of “bad stuff” files. He loved us so much that He sent His Son to die for our sins in our place. It’s sacrificial
            “With him is full redemption” (v. 7c). He doesn’t merely shorten the list of burdensome offenses. It’s completely forgiven.
            “He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins (v. 8). God desires us to go forward with lives that reflect His holiness and purpose. Paul captured this truth well:

I post scripture in my work area, including
this one that was so appropriate to Psalm 130.

“But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.  For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:22-23).

 So here it is, tucked into a song that pilgrims chanted en route to the temple, the heart of animal sacrifice. Their offerings of lambs, goats or birds couldn’t give them full assurance of being right with God. There was always the nagging question: did I offer enough to cover all the wrongs I did?

Whether they realized it or not, Psalm 130 provides the answer: “with him [God] there is full redemption” (v. 7). Sometimes we have to hit the depths, bottom out, crash from our sins, before we can look up, into the face of our Redeemer.

 

Next: Psalm 133

           

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 32: Hidden Places

God's "good" hiding places include the winter soil for
flower bulbs. These are daffodils, ready for spring.

Part of an ongoing series on selected psalms.
“The Hiding Place,” Corrie ten Boom’s World War 2 account of hiding Jews and punishment in a notorious concentration camp, gripped me when published in the early 1970s. I knew “hiding place” referred to the secret compartment built into her bedroom to protect refugee Jews. I also knew the phrase carried a double meaning from Psalms, for God’s protection.

When “The Hiding Place” was released, I was in my twenties and reading the Psalms with fresh spiritual eyes. When I came across the “hiding place” phrase in Psalm 32:7, I marked it: “Thou art a hiding place for me; thou preserveth me from trouble; thou dost encompass me with deliverance” (32:7). Later, re-reading Corrie’s book, I realized it quoted another “hiding place” passage right after Corrie’s family was arrested and detained at the local police station. The night before her family was split up to go to different prisons, a group had gathered around Corrie’s aged father for evening prayers. She recalled: “His blue eyes seemed to be seeing beyond the locked crowded room, beyond Haarlem, beyond earth itself, as he quoted from memory: ‘Thou art my hiding place and my shield: I hope in thy word….Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe…’” (The Hiding Place, Chosen Books, 1971, p. 126).

Corrie’s father had quoted from Psalm 119 (starting at verse 114), but both that verse and Psalm 32:7 used the same Hebrew word (sether) for “hiding place.”  In both places, “hiding place” is a metaphor for God’s loving presence, even when we face unspeakably difficult circumstances.

 

TWO ‘HIDDEN’ THINGS

 Psalm 32 deals with two types of “hidden” things. One is hidden sins. Psalm 51 tells how David confessed his hidden sins of adultery and conspiracy to murder. Psalm 32 also refers to that incident, but was written later, probably to warn and teach others about falling into hidden sin. Psalm 32 reveals how hiding sin damaged David’s health. He describes his bones wasting away, groaning all through the day, a sense of heaviness, and sapped strength. The second “hidden” subject, after confession of sin, is God’s love and protection, described as our “hiding place.”  The psalm also speaks of spiritual teachings that are hidden from the hard hearts of the unsaved.

HIDDEN AND HIDEOUS

Both Psalms 1 and 32 open with the word “blessed.” The Amplified version, trying to catch the energy of the original Hebrew (‘esher), translates this “happy, fortunate, to be envied.” Psalm 1’s “blessed” person completely followed God. Psalm 32’s “blessed” person realizes he has fallen from God’s perfect path, but knows the blessing of forgiveness after confession. Hebrew poetry is characterized by parallel thoughts, and Psalm 32 begins with an excellent example as David seems to rake the Hebrew language for synonyms for the hideousness of sin.
            *Transgression (v. 1), from the Hebrew peshah, a “going away,” “departure,” or “rebellion” against God.
            *Sin (v. 1), from the Hebrew chattath, a falling-short of a mark, like an archer failing to hit his target. In this case, sin is “falling short” of God’s law.
            *Iniquity (v. 2), from Hebrew hawon, something corrupted, twisted, crooked—which we become in twisting away from God to sinful choices.
            Next, the psalmist gives three divine responses to sin.
            *Forgiven—literally, to have our sin burden lifted off, like Pilgrim losing his burden at the cross in John Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress.”
            *Covered—a term picturing the Old Testament sacrificial system. A priest would carry blood from a sacrificed animal and sprinkle the “mercy seat” or cover of the ark, which contained the law the people had broken. The blood symbolized shielding the sinner from God’s judgment. Christ’s death fulfilled that ritual, once and for all.
            *Not counted against him—like a divine bookkeeping term.  God takes the sins recorded in our life’s ledger book, removes them and put them in Christ’s ledger book. He died for them, and His righteousness was credited to our ledger. In Romans 4, the apostle Paul quoted these verses and went to great lengths to explain “justification by faith.”

GOD’S HIDING PLACE

The word selah, which denotes a musical pause to “think about this,” separates each section of this psalm. First David defined sin and revealed how it wrecked his health. Selah, he wrote, as though urging people not to go down similar paths. Then David recounts his confession and the relief of getting what was dark and hidden out in the open. “You forgave the guilt of my sin,” he said, followed by selah (v. 5).

Next comes an admonition to keep accounts clear with God and not wait for the fearsome floods of chastening (“when the mighty waters rise,” v. 6). Earlier, he was hiding from God.  Now forgiven, he hides in God, his “hiding place.” David knew well how God led him to “hiding places” in the rocky wastelands during the dozen years he hid from Saul’s murderous campaigns. That was worth a big selah.

NOT-SO-HIDDEN COUNSEL

The psalm ends with Proverbs-like counsel. Verse 8 spoke to me during a scary time of change when I was a young adult. I’d decided to leave my newspaper reporter’s job with its steady paycheck for “mission service” a thousand miles away, and “support” for income. To help me decide, I’d flown to the mission headquarters to talk with people there. I had thought much about Psalm 32:8, now marked in red in my Bible: “I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” On the flight back, as I looked out on clouds and land, I had an inexplicable sense of God guiding me with His all-seeing wisdom.

The next verse was my challenge: to not be like a mule that had to be pulled into submission.  Lyrics of an old hymn kept coming to me: “Have thine own way, Lord…I am waiting, yielded and still.” How well these summarize the message of Psalm 32. When we quit hiding from God, we can rest in God’s hiding place. There is no better place to be.  And though it’s not written in David’s text, this is another place where a selah would be very appropriate!

 

Next time: Psalm 34