EXAM TIME

It was time again to separate the weeds from the flowers, and toss the unwanted, wild greenery into the garbage bin. As I went through the routine of yard-work chores, I thought of how God does the same with those who seek to follow Him wholeheartedly. Like earth's rogue grasses, thistles, horsetails, and dandelions, there are spiritual faith-chokers that need removal so the soil of our souls can nourish the blossoms of godliness. Maybe, for this, we could use the term “eternal exams.”

Of course, the word "exams" takes me down memory lane to my education, especially college. The academic semester was full of lectures, papers, quizzes and such to convey information and evaluate how students were taking it in. With finals at the semester's end, two groups of students emerged: those who passed, and those who didn't. There were flowers (who bloomed through acquisition of knowledge) and weeds (those who slunk through without bearing the good fruit of learning).

Okay, done with poetic comparisons (and my analogy was admittedly a bit weird). But Jesus told a similar story (Matthew 13:24-30) about a farmer who sowed good seeds, symbolizing the goodness that God has sown into the world. But during the night, an enemy sowed weeds in the same field. Obvious analogy here: the work of Satan—sneaky and dark.

The weeds I pull are obviously different from the plants I want to nurture. But Jesus' parable makes a lot more sense upon learning the “weed” He probably had in mind: “darnel,” which looked like a stalk of wheat until mature and was toxic when ingested by animals and humans.* “Weeding out” the tares before harvest would damage the remaining wheat stalks. (Ever try to walk in a grain field without smashing the stalks?) After harvest, the weed-tares could be separated and burned.

I weed my flower beds and uproot dandelions to keep my home attractive and a credit to the neighborhood. When I get down on my knees to eradicate the unwanted weeds, I am reminded of how that humble posture is one way to approach a holy God in prayer.

My most-used tool is a long rod with a V-shaped tip to slip down the weed's stem to take “more” of the root than just snatching off the bloom. Maybe there's a lesson in that, too. When we're made aware of behaviors that aren't pleasing to God, it's easy to say, “Well, I won't do that anymore.” But casual declarations don't get to the “root” of the problem. God's “eternal exam time” digs deep into attitudes like selfishness and entitlement that grow from a life focused on me-me-me.

God's Final Exam is coming. In the meantime, we have the privilege of soul checkups—the “weeding out” of actions and attitudes that don't honor Him, giving the true blooms of godliness space to thrive.

*For more about the toxicity of “darnel,” check this reference: Topical Bible: Darnel

RING AROUND THE WHAT?

This is my rubber-glove chore about twice a year, when our area's “hard water” (with its calcium, magnesium and iron) advertises its prevalence with rings in our, uh, “porcelain throne.” I wet down a now-well-used block of pumice (essentially “volcanic foam”) and carefully scrape away the hard-water crust-lines. It's not my favorite task, but it needs to be done and just takes a few minutes.*

The word “rings” has so many meanings. Trees have rings of growth. Brides and grooms exchange rings of pledge. Big ornery bulls may have rings in their noses. Circus clowns juggle rings. A stone tossed in a lake produces rings from its impact. But how many times in childhood (or with your own children) did you sing “Ring around the Rosie” without a clue to the ditty's meaning?

The rhyme sung in a child's circle-round game actually has a grim connection with the Black Death pandemic that ravaged Europe 1347-1351, killing an estimated 25 million people. Historians and scientists believe it was spread by infected rodents to humans through flea bites. One historian believed the “ring around the rosie” jingle referred to the round, red rash that was the first sign of disease infection. “A pocket full of posies” alluded to idea that flowers stuffed in one's pocket would ward off the disease. (Not so!) The song's line “ashes, ashes, we all fall down” has two possible explanation. One is that it alludes to death: “ashes, to ashes, dust to dust.” The other notion is that instead of “ashes” (as in burnt wood) the word is “Atishoo,” referring to sneezing and sickness. Finally, “we all fall down” references death.

So now you know—and it's not a very pretty story for what most people consider a must-learn, innocent child's game song. Yes, I know, hard-water rings in a household “device” doesn't quite match the idea of a child's circle-song. But maybe there's a truth here. Just as poor sanitation practices helped spread this virulent disease many centuries ago, failing to cleanse our minds of the world's mental and spiritual pollution can leave an ugly, hard-to-remove mark.

Maybe this is a good time to point out one of many proverbs that speak to self-examination to identify the roots of sin-choices: “He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy” (Proverbs 28:13). “Confesses”--sees the spiritual problem (like my hard-water lines). “Renounces”--seeks ways to scrub them out of one's life. Nobody said it would be as easy as putting posies in your pocket. The Enemy is out there, spreading His viral lies. He'd like nothing better than for us to fall down, and drag others with us.

A better choice: ring around the Cross, in praise to the One who conquered death.

*Click here for everything you always wanted to know about this household chore:

How to Easily Remove Hard Water Stains in Your Toilet (savvyhousekeeping.com)

UNDRINKABLE

My front-loading clothes washer recently reminded me of a Gospel presentation that happened so long ago in my life that I can't even remember my age at that time. But I do recall its “magic” with chemicals. The traveling evangelist (er, chemist) presented a glass of black water. (No, it wasn't extra-strong coffee!) He explained that the black water illustrated our sinful hearts. Then he added some red liquid (representing the blood of Christ) and—magic!--the water turned clear again.*

Back to the washer. The bottom front of mine has a little trap door.Without bothering to read the owner's manual, I decided to do some experimenting. Behind it was a screw-out filter and a clamped nozzle. The filter held gooey gunk and a pieced earring (not mine, maybe from someone whom I helped by doing their laundry). The nozzle dribbled disgusting black liquid (what you see in the drinking glass). When I got around to reading the owner's manual, I learned the little mouse-size door was the guardhouse for the "Drain Pump Filter." It's to keep excess lint and foreign objects (buttons, keys, rings) from damaging the pump.

What? Are you guessing at my analogy? Maybe that of allowing the Holy Spirit and scriptures to “filter” our sinful or even edgy choices that impair us spiritually? The Bible put it this way: “Let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God” (2 Corinthians 7:1).

You probably see where I am headed with this. Left without spiritual filters, my life would easily clog up with grudges, bitterness and other things that don't befit a follower of Jesus. But through scripture reading and application, prayer with a tender heart, and sometimes through difficult life events, God helps me “filter out” the attitudes and actions that don't belong in my life.

* Don't try this at home: I think bleach is involved. Here's a You-Tube about the illustration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Z_SMrnEiaI) 

WORM THEOLOGY

 A friend had shared fresh produce from his garden, and I could hardly wait to taste that ear of corn, picked within the day. I didn't expect a side of protein: a corn borer caterpillar nibbling its way down one of the succulent yellow rows. I'd experienced “wildlife” in corn before. I learned to just cut out the “offending” portion. Still, it reminded me that anything is vulnerable to attack. And in everyday life in our fallen world, the “bad stuff” we can't see right away is fully visible to God.

Maybe that's why I find special comfort in the “omni” attributes of God: His omnipresence (He's everywhere), omniscience (all-knowing), and omnipotence (all-powerful). When I feel bewildered or defeated by what is gnawing into my life, none of it is a surprise to God.

I think that's why Psalm 139 is so meaningful to me. Sometimes I'm tempted to feel like just another anonymous person on this planet. But this passage reminds me that I am significant. God created me for a special purpose and I am known to God. He knows what's rattling around my brain--my thoughts are fully known to Him (v. 2). He knows my current and upcoming circumstances. Distance doesn't matter (vv. 7-10). Darkness doesn't hide him (vv. 11-12). He knew me from the time I was a few dividing cells inside my mother's womb (v. 13). He watches sadly if I turn away from Him and do my own thing.

If I make negative "all-about-me choices"—like caterpillar munching down a delectable row of corn kernels—well, He sees that negative path. He also knows how to point the purging knife of the Holy Spirit at the right spot and take out the pestilence. He gladly answers the psalm's concluding prayer:

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. (vv. 23-24)

ENTRAPPED (Psalm 51)

Critters dining on our tomatoes and strawberries turned

out to be RATS! Strands of thread wrapped around peanut

butter on the trap caught several. Sin is like that--it

may feel or taste good at first, but watch out!

(A series on 48 psalms recommended by pastor/counselor David Seamands for getting through depression.)

If somebody ever did a Bible version called “The Happy Scriptures,” this is one psalm they’d omit. Ditto the other seven “penitential” psalms (6, 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, 143) in which the writer admits his shortcomings. They almost groan with agony over spiritual realities pulled out of the sludge of life. To be honest, I’ve resisted writing about Psalm 51.  Maybe it’s a déjà vu, all the muck today’s media is reporting about sexual sin in high places. My church recently offered a meeting for men willing to admit they had problems with sexual issues. I thought of the courage it would take for someone just to walk in the door for that….

NO SECRETS

But here, David is walking through the door to a public confession of what was whispered about throughout his nation. He lusted after a woman, got her pregnant, then had her husband killed to cover up his act. It didn’t work. Sin is a termite in the foundations of our lives. It’s a rat trap laced with peanut butter. We can’t ignore it forever. If we try to overlook it or explain it away, its stench grows. Alongside, depression festers.

It’s not just sexual issues. We’re entrapped whenever we dare cross boundaries of morality or propriety, someone is hurt, and no confession or restitution is made. It covers the range from adultery and murder (David’s traps) to physical or emotional abuse. Get mad, call someone a wretched name in anger, and never apologize?  Abuse. Sin.

Bible teachers point out that David covered the bases when he described his sins with three different Hebrew words that English translates this way (vv. 1-2):.
“Transgressions”—crossing the law’s boundaries.
“Iniquity”—yielding to the twisted sin nature.
“Sin”—missing the mark God set for him.
 “Purge me with hyssop,” he says (v. 7), referring to a bushy plant used to sprinkle blood on sacrifices for sin.  “Wash me,” he adds. He felt plain old dirty in his heart. “Create in me a clean heart…renew a right spirit” (v. 10). “Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation” (v. 12)..

PEACE OFFERINGS DON'T SUFFICE

To feel better about ourselves, we don’t have to go to some religious shrine and perform rites over and over, hoping some god will show favor and get us out of the hole. Depression may be symptomatic of a need for spiritual heart surgery: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (v. 10). It’s not about peace offerings.  David was wealthy enough to keep the temple slaughter house busy for years with offerings! It’s about a broken spirit that says, “I was wrong. You, God are right.”

"Avoid every kind of evil," says 1 Thessalonians 5:22. That includes sexual sin, relational discord, anger and bitterness, laziness and selfish entitlement. Deliberate disobedience leads to a muddied testimony and ministry, and opens a back door for depression to sneak in. 

David knew only the Old Testament sacrificial system, but he also knew that only God could take him out of his angst and depression. On this side of the cross, we look to a Hill where the Son of God was murdered, weighted by every sin in the book, paving the way for us to say, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” He who sees into the darkest corners of a rebellious heart is also the One ready to transform it. “Cleanse me,” David pleaded (vv. 1-7). “Restore me” (vv. 8-12). “Use me” (vv. 13-19).

FORGIVE ME (Psalm 32)

(An ongoing series on the 48 psalms listed as “recommended reading” for times of depression, as listed in counselor/pastor David Seamands’ book Healing for Damaged Emotions.)

When you’re feeling down and defeated, there’s nothing like a safe place to get away from it all—a “hiding place.”  That’s the golden nugget tucked away in Psalm 32:7: 

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. (v. 7) 

Repeated in Psalm 119:114, both use the Hebrew word sether, meaning hiding place or secret place. David had plenty of those in the wilds as he tried to keep distance between himself and King Saul.  But he couldn’t distance himself from God. In those lonely, introspective times of hiding he had lots of times to reconsider the ways of God. 

Of course, this verse takes many of us to 1975 and the release of the film “The Hiding Place,” about Corrie ten Boom and her family’s persecution for protecting Jews during World War 2.  There was literally a “hiding place” for Jews in their home, in a false wall behind Corrie’s bed, and that’s where Jews fled when officials came looking. Their illegal kindness eventually put Corrie and her family in prison and concentration camps.  Eventually, only Corrie survived to be released.  But she didn’t cower from proclaiming Jesus, traveling the world to tell her story even as old age set in.  It was my privilege to hear her in person in the late 1970s when I lived in California. 

  

This donkey lives just around the corner from us,and saunters 

over to the fence for carrots. A sign on the fence okays those

 offerings--but watch your fingers.

Whenever I return in my Bible to Psalm 32, that movie and her testimony color what I read there. But there’s more, so much more. One big focus in the psalm is confession and forgiveness.  David is searching his heart, sensing great heaviness when he thinks about his sins.  Once he levels with God about his sin, he says, “you forgave the guilt of my sin” (v. 5). The guilt. That’s the part that eats away at our spirits. In our human, fallen personalities, we like to think we have everything under control. We don’t like to see ourselves as suffering the consequences of our sins. Verse 9 says doing so is behaving like a mule which has “no understanding.”  The bridle is the only way to get them to behave. We have a tendency to justify or cover up our sin. David felt its burden until “I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity” (v. 5). 

One sin we often overlook is bitterness, of harboring a grudge against someone. Many times the original offense was negligible, but it was massaged so much that it grew into a monster, feeding our hostility toward someone. That seems to be behind David’s remark, “Blessed is the man…in whose spirit is no deceit.” Ponder that in light of how he kept running for his very life because of the insanity of King Saul.

When relationships are sticky and situations messy, we’re prone to be like sad Eeyore of Winnie the Pooh fame, whose classic reply to adversity (including the frequent unbuttoning of his tail) is “Oh, dear.” Christopher Robin, the stuffed animal’s owner, can solve the problem by sewing Eeyore’s tail button back in place. But we tend to be Eeyores, who fail to see solutions.  That’s where Psalm 32 speaks to heavy hearts that have lost hope: 

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you…the Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the man who trusts in him (vv. 8. 10).

The Bible's "Chew" Program

My menu-planning depends a lot on some stickers that declare “half-off” or some other discounted price. You should see me at my local grocery store rummaging through the clearance meat! Typically I grab pork chops, beef or chicken fajita strips, or stew portions over the huge, longer-cooking, “chewier” roasts.  Sometimes I wonder what “meat” Paul had in mind (lamb? goat?) when he wrote his milk-and-meat analogy regarding spiritual immaturity.

And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with milk, and not with meat…” (1 Corinthians 3:2 KJV)
A newer translation clarifies Paul’s point:
I had to feed you with milk and not with solid food, because you couldn’t handle anything stronger. And you still aren’t ready, for you are still controlled by your own sinful desires. You are jealous of one another and quarrel with each other….You are acting like people who don’t belong to the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 3:2-3 NLT) 

My older grandsons (3 and 4 ½) are big into meat (as in pepperoni pizza) but their baby brother at this point can only handle “mama milk.”  Just as humans go beyond milk, so should Christians. But Paul was seeing too church members who should have progressed way beyond the basic truths that Christ died for their sins. They had the label of believer, but not the lifestyle.

DISSECTING THE MEAT

Recently someone’s strange interpretation of Matthew 18:15-17 sent me back to my study aids to get at the “meat” and truth of Jesus’ words about church discipline. There’s more about dealing with erring believers than that passage. Jesus’ advice in Matthew was progressive chances to repent and change. First, a more mature believer would go privately to someone with a serious sin. If the offender resisted, two or three “backup” people (witnesses) would return. If still no change, then it was brought to the attention of the whole church. The implication was that this person was known in the church and their sin affected many people. Most offenders would resist getting this far, either because they truly realize the need for repentance or in their arrogance and spiritual stubbornness they don't care.

I’ve witnessed situations where this procedure was followed, both involving sexual sin among leaders. Because of its damage to the church’s reputation and integrity, their sin had to be dealt with severely but with as much love as possible. One time, because I knew the person and grieved their fall, I was present for that step of church involvement. I remember weeping as the person tearfully confessed his sin and then knelt as church leaders gathered around to pray and encourage him through the restoration process.

COMPARE AND CONTRAST

The rowdy Corinthian church was a classic application of this rule. It was tolerating the blatant sin of someone who married his father’s wife—perhaps a stepmother. Kick him out, Paul demanded (1 Corinthians 5:5).  He also shamed the church for getting soft on those who called themselves believers but practiced obvious sin besides immorality. These included people “known to be guilty of greed, or...an idolater—that is, whose soul is devoted to any object that usurps the place of God—or [is] a person with a foul tongue (railing, abusing, reviling, slandering),  or is a drunkard, or a swindler or a robber” (1 Cor. 5:11 Amplified).  

The “meat” of the Word is not just that “Jesus loves me, this I know.” It’s also that we are allowing His Spirit to convict of those life choices that "usurp the place of God" or habits of the world, like a foul mouth. Only then can the Spirit transform us into living out godly “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control”  (Galatians 5:22-23 NIV).

MORE TO CHEW ON

But what of those who “become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another” (Galatians 5:26 NKJV)—those reflections of the Corinthian problem?  Paul’s counsel follows: Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently (NIV). Echoes of step number one in Jesus’ Matthew 18 instruction! 

Both these approaches—public, progressive rebuke of stubborn, blatant sin, and humble reprimanding of carnal Christians by caring brethren--have their places. Both deserve “chewing” on as we choose how to live out Jesus’ love among the spiritually arrogant and the spiritually struggling. 

Think tank: "pure"

Canterbury bells--they also come in pink and blue.

I grew up with two brands of bathroom soap. Most prominent in the tub’s soap dish was a coral-colored brand touted for its deodorant properties. Occasionally it was used wash sassiness from children’s mouths, a practice I didn’t take to my own parenting!  The other was a white bar that claimed to be 99 44/100% pure.  It’s still sold today, though the market has turned in favor of “cleansers” with oils that stave off wrinkles. Almost 100% pure, they’re not.
 

But the little, enduring white bar still attracts buyers looking for something pure and simple. Its “whiteness” no doubt adds to its impression of being the right soap for cleansing away dirt. When I’m told in Philippians 4:8 to think about whatever is pure, I’m to focus on something that’s not contaminated.  “Pure” implies thinking about high moral character. While our culture drenches us with all that is “unclean,” we’re to rise above that, to come away from it.

 

I grew up in what has become a rare home: with two parents who loved God and made sure their children were regularly in church and Sunday school with them.  I went through the youth instruction classes, dutifully memorizing the answers about the church’s doctrinal teachings.  I didn’t engage in any major teen rebellion and studied hard, graduating fifth in my high school class of some 450. If you had then asked me to describe myself as a bar of soap, I’d be that “almost pure” white bar.  Knowing pride to be a sign, I left room for growth.  Ha!

Despite all the training in my childhood church, I didn’t really “get” the idea of a personal Savior until I became a young adult and moved to a new town for my first job.  I’m sure the salvation message—of Jesus dying for my sins--was part of early religious education. But there was also a strong emphasis on “works”—that if you do this or that, you will find favor with God and go to Heaven when you die.  Wrong! Finally, I heard teaching that connected the historical Jesus, who went through a horrible death for my sins, to the resurrected Christ waiting to be my personal redeemer.

I met Jesus as my Savior when I realized my “almost-pure” life was unbelievably sin-dirty by Heaven’s standards. I also learned of His extravagant forgiveness for the worst of sins.  King David, for example.  Here was a man tapped to be king, who spent his early life composing praise music, who tried to do right while waiting for his time to become king.  Years later, all that came crashing down.  Lust fulfilled. Murderous plan accomplished.  Finally, after miserable years, the King confessed his sins and prayed what is a model for us:

Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.  –Psalm 51:7b

So how do we curb anxiety by thinking of things that are pure? By looking to the Savior who never sinned, who lived in purity and love. For me.  For you.

 

Next: "lovely."

 

Cast Away

One of the most important pieces of furniture in our kitchen is “Igor.”  Thanks to four hefty batteries, he obediently yawns open whenever we wave his direction with things to throw away. Yes, we have allowed ourselves the charming luxury of a magic-eye trash can, whom we affectionately named for its “eager-ness” (Igor-ness) to open and shut.  He replaced a trusty old plastic trash can that after several decades had terminal hinge fatigue despite attempts to extend its life with duct tape. 

At times I could wish for a spiritual “Igor,” who’d yawn open and swallow all the banana peels and coffee grounds of my spiritual life.  (Yes, I know I should be “green” and composting, but that’s another subject.) My human-condition (read that: sin nature) means I’ve had to deal with a lot of garbage, some of my own, some slopped into my life by others.  I’m talking about stinky attitudes, messy situations, the foulness of anxiety and worry, the sludge of grudges.

I’m often drawn back to The Lists in Galatians 5.  Galatia was no Mayberry which barely kept Andy Griffith and his comic deputy occupied. The list in verses 19-21 make you think “Vegas,” except what happened in Galatia-Vegas didn’t stay there. It stunk enough to bring out Paul’s censure—everything from immorality to fouled relationships and out-of-control behavior. 

Open, Igor.  Here comes the trash life.

I’m grateful Paul didn’t stop at these negatives.  He goes on to name God-pleasing traits that come from a life under Christ’s control: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Nothing trashy here.

“Since we live by the spirit,” Paul said, “let us keep in step with the Spirit.” It’s not a passive thing where God sprinkles “God-goodness” all over me as I waltz through the tulips. Instead, He’s at work conforming me to His image. Making me Christ-like.  Getting rid of the trash-life.  Nudging me to review the Owner’s Manual (the Bible).

Open wide, Igor.  I  have some sin confessions to cast your way.  Yeah, that stinky attitude...that wormy worry....that occasion of putrid pride....   How grateful I am that He clamps down the lid: “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).

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 51: Mercy

Part of an ongoing series on selected psalms.
The young man giving his testimony in the morning service would be baptized in a few minutes. He told of a life gone haywire until he hit bottom. One night, overcome with sorrow for his sins, he slid to his knees by his bed, crying out for a fresh start with Jesus. I listened with tears filling my eyes, thinking how for millions those low points become our highest points as we claim the mercy of God in Jesus Christ.This is the thrust of Psalm 51, which is a king’s confession of sin and prayer for mercy and a changed life.  It’s deeper than deep. Eighteenth century preacher Charles Haddon Spurgeon, who could preach hours off one verse, found himself so overwhelmed by the truths in this psalm that he procrastinated for weeks before trying to write about it. I can understand his reluctance. What more could I add to what is said so well here about God’s mercy and loving us so much that He gave!

Psalm 51 is the fourth of the seven so-called “penitential psalms” (6, 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, 143). The March 21 blog on Psalm 32 (“Hidden Places”) considered David’s later-in-life perspective of what he learned from his fall into sin. Psalm 51 was probably written closer to his confession of sin after confrontation by the prophet Nathan (2 Samuel 11-12).

HAVE MERCY! (1-2)

 Under the Mosaic law of the Old Testament, no sacrifice could be offered to forgive adultery and murder, both of which David committed. His only hope of forgiveness was God’s “mercy.” The Hebrew word for mercy (hānan) pictures bending or stooping in kindness to an inferior. Don’t skip over the “O” in front of “God” (the Hebrew “Elohim,” referring to the most high God). In English, the “O” indicates intensity of expression, almost a deep sigh. He precedes God’s name with “O” four more times (vv. 10, 14, 15, 17). He appeals to God’s “unfailing love,” from the Hebrew hesed, referring to God’s covenantal love. Then he appeals to God’s great compassion before three specific sin-descriptions (the same as in Psalm 32).

I SINNED! (3-6)

We want our elected officials to rule with integrity, but many fall. How well I remember the sad episode of a former president accused of adultery—in his oval office!—who tried to weasel out of the accusations that nearly removed him from office. David didn’t shrug off his wrongs with a casual “I blew it.” He was specific about the scope of sin against a holy God:
            “Blot out my transgressions”—sin that crosses over into forbidden territory.
            “Wash away all my iniquity”--perversion, what we call “original sin.”
            “Cleanse me from my sin”—falling short, missing the mark, like an arrow missing a target.
David didn’t say, “Everybody sins a little once in a while.” He looked at himself as one tainted with the original sin passed through Adam and Eve (v. 5), and confessed his great fall: “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (v. 4). Today, pride and being “culturally correct” keep us from the flat-out honesty about the seriousness of sin. “One of the greatest crises of our day,” wrote Oswald Chambers in Devotions for the Deeper Life, “is that we are contented with easy satisfaction in our spiritual lives. We are content with moral fastidiousness.  If we are to get at the heart of the religion of the Cross, we will have to forget such religious trivialities. We must be ‘unblamable in holiness before God’….We need broken-hearted preachers with an awful conviction of sin, preachers who cry, ‘My God! My God! Against Thee, Thee only have I sinned!’” (Zondervan/God’s Bible School, 1986, p. 83).
 

CLEAN! (7-9)

David wanted:
*Cleansing (literally, purging) “with hyssop.”  This small, rock-clinging plant was used as a brush or to sprinkle. In the Exodus, the Hebrews used it to smear blood on their doorways to alert the angel of death to pass over them.  It was also used in ceremonial cleansing for people with skin diseases (Lev. 14:4, 6) or who had touched a dead body (Num. 19:18). Hebrews 9:19-22, in pointing to Christ’s death, explained, “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.” In asking cleansing with hyssop, David was literally saying, “De-sin me.”

*A new, pure spirit, clean like new-fallen snow. Though rare, Jerusalem does get some snow, and David had probably witnessed a morning when pure white covered the usual dirty landscape. This part of Psalm 51 inspired James Nicholson, a devout Christian and postal worker, to write this much-loved Gospel hymn, published in 1872:

            Lord Jesus, I long to be perfectly whole;
            I want Thee forever to live in my soul.
            Break down every idol, cast out every foe.
            Now wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

RENEWAL (10-12)

David wanted a fresh start, so he asked God to:
 *Create a pure heart for him. This was a bold request, for in asking God to “create” this new heart, he used the word “bara” which was also used in Genesis for the creation of the heavens and earth.  In other words, he was asking God to create something brand-new out of nothing! He couldn’t have made a bolder request.
*Never cast David away. This verse has stirred up a lot of controversy among those who dispute “eternal security.” But what David seems to be saying is not a matter of “losing” salvation but that he needed God’s help to live in holiness.
*Restore the joy of salvation. Sin took away his joy. Momentary pleasures brought long-term grief. Now, with repentance and cleansing, he wants to enjoy again his sweet fellowship with God.

PROOF OF A CHANGED HEART (13-17)

Today, people who commit a crime are often “sentenced” to a community service that seeks to compensate a wrong or convince others not to follow the same negative paths. For example, a teen arrested for drunken driving might speak to student groups about what he or she learned from breaking the law. As Psalm 51 ends, David promises to warn others not to make his mistake. “Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will turn back to you” (v. 13). An obedient life is far better than a cycle of sinning and sacrifices.

CHANGED PEOPLE=CHANGED NATION (18-19)

Proverbs 14:34 says: “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a disgrace to any people.” We don’t know if David influenced the writing of that proverb, but we do that the ending of Psalm 51 is a similar appeal to his nation to turn from sin and serve the living God. With such an ending, Psalm 51 leads us to look in the mirror ourselves and ask: Am I the weak link of national health? Am I open to the counsel or rebuke of a godly, caring person? Have I thoroughly faced my sin and sought forgiveness?  And am I praying for loved ones who haven’t yet made that decision?
Next blog: Psalm 56

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

 

The Truth Tellers

It’s the Friday after Thanksgiving, and you probably did this. No, not dived into the crowds wanting “Black Friday” bargains. How about “stood on the scale”? We currently have two scales in our bathroom. The clear one (right) was left behind in a vacated rental that we helped the landlord (a relative) clean out.  A friendly scale, it weighs you two pounds lighter than truth, and can’t be adjusted.  (It will eventually get donated somewhere.) The white scale is our Old Faithful, which gives the brutal facts about true weight. 

I’d like to believe the untruth on “light” scale, but I know the other tells me what I need to know.  The scales also remind me of a story in the book of Daniel with the key verse, “You have been weighed on the scales and been found wanting”  (Daniel 5:26). Well, I’m wanting to weigh less on the “truthful” scales, but we’ll move on from there. The quote comes from an account about a rascal king named Belshazzar, the grandson of more famous Nebuchadnezzar. King B had thrown a party for a thousand noblemen, bringing out the sacred gold and silver goblets they’d raided from the temple in Jerusalem.  While chugging the bubbly, they began praising their various idols.  Suddenly, a giant hand began writing on the wall, bringing a quick end to the party. He finally called in the Hebrew worker Daniel, known for his wisdom in such puzzling situations.  Daniel interpreted the three words written by the giant hand: mene, tekel, and peres. Their meanings (numbered, measured, divided) spelled doom for Belshazzar.  “Tekel”(for “measured”) brings up the idea of double-panned scales used by merchants, like that in the famous blindfolded “Lady Justice” statue of the 1500s. Belshazzar’s sins and arrogance made one side dip to the max, while the other side of true faith was empty.

Now, a disclaimer. A lot of people use the idea of “spiritual scales” the wrong way. They say something on the line of this: “Well, when I die, I guess God will put my good deeds on one scale and the bad on another, and hopefully the good will outweigh the bad so I can go to heaven.”  There’s not a single verse in the Bible to support that. We’re never “good enough” for heaven.  We are able to go there only through accepting Christ’s atoning work on the cross for our sins.

The other problem comes when people think they’re good enough already for Heaven—in other words, the scales are already stacked in their favor.  They echo Job’s opinion that he was so good that he didn’t deserve to suffer: “Let God weigh me in honest scales and he will know that I am blameless” (Job 30:4). In truth, as “good” as he was, Job fell short of perfection. Proverbs 16:2 seems to point to his blind spot: “All a man’s ways seem innocent to him, but motives are weighed by the Lord.”

Instead of trying to affix our own measuring system on God, maybe we need to step back and simply worship Him for His wisdom, power and majesty.  In images that drew from “measurements,” Isaiah did that with a magnificent picture of the God who measured water in the hollow of His hand, marked off the breadth of the heavens, held earth’s dust in a basket, and “weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance” (see Isaiah 40). Nothing, absolutely nothing, can compare with the greatness of God.

The disparity between God’s purity and our sin is hard to admit. But seeing ourselves as we really are requires that we use the “truth scales” of scripture.  For example, the book of James reveals my spiritual flab in a lot of places: trials, controlling my tongue, guarding against favoritism, helping the poor, avoiding quarrels, not grumbling, and praying in faith. “Humble yourselves before the Lord,” James says, “and he will lift you up” (James 4:10). 

Well, “lifting me up” as I stand on the household “truthful scales” might lower the numbers a bit. But I know wherein I stand, and that’s in need of grace!

Castaways

We had chopped down a messy evergreen adjacent to the house that was a fire hazard because of dry needles trapped inside. Afterwards, it seemed we’d never quit filling garbage bags of the debris. On our trash pickup day, as I came out to help the truck driver cast the bags into his dump bin, I thought of several ways garbage bags can symbolize aspects of the spiritual life.

Salvation. Some people say they can’t come to God because they have too much “garbage” in their lives. They think they need to clean up their acts before they make the decision to be a Christian. Yet, as one person quipped, “You don’t clean up the house before the cleaning lady comes.” Jesus died for sinners, not perfect people: “While we were yet sinners [surrounded by sin-garbage], Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, comment added).

John Bunyan’s classic allegory Pilgrim’s Progress pictured that as the main character, Christian, carries a heavy back pack representing the burden of the knowledge of his sin. He comes to a place with a cross and empty tomb. There, the straps that bound his burden to him are broken, and the burden rolls into the empty sepulcher. But Christian isn’t suddenly catapulted to the Celestial City upon being relieved of his sin burden. He’s free of its penalizing weight, but he has a long way to go before reaching his destination. All sorts of tests come his way as his character is prepared for the beauty and holiness of that city where God lives.

Spiritual growth. Years ago I wrote a children’s story titled, “The Great Garbage Bag Lesson.” The fiction concerned two grade-school kids, who knew only kid-gossip about the other, being assigned partners for a science project on recycling. They decided to give each classmate a bag to collect personal throwaway garbage for a week. In the process of learning about recyclable waste, the two learned how their misconceptions about the other person being “unfriendly” were all wrong. The story inferred how pride, fear, anxiety, and other relationship-killers are spiritual “garbage” that keep us from enjoying the full life that God has planned for us.

The apostle Peter put it this way: “Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). The word for “cast” in the original Greek is epirrhipto and it literally means “to hurl upon.” Its only other use in the New Testament is in Luke 19:35, in describing the disciples hurling garments on a donkey for Jesus to sit on as He entered Jerusalem. Peter’s saying we can hurl onto Jesus our black bags of fears and anxieties. He’s strong enough to take care of them.

Selfish refusal. In my town there’s now a homeless woman in a long black hooded coat, who keeps a handkerchief pressed to her nose. As she wanders from place to place, she carries four plastic grocery sacks stuffed with more sacks. One day, concerned about her, I approached her with a clear zipped bag of purchased, wrapped snack items. “I thought you might be hungry,” I said as I got within about ten feet. She glared and waved me away. “All these are packaged,” I added, hoping to allay her fears poison or germs. She kept shooing me, insisting she didn’t want them and claiming she was okay.

Obviously, she isn’t okay. I’m not going to get into a discussion of mental illness here. But other days, as I have watched her trudge down the street, I have thought about how God must feel when we refuse His help and clasp ever tighter to our bags of problems. How much more would He’d rather hear this, as Charles Wesley expressed it his hymn “And Can It Be?”: “My chains fell off”—and I’d paraphrase, I gave up my black bags—“my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee!”