Their god is their belly

Philippians 3:15-21

Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained.

Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.

Yesterday I asked myself in what, other than Christ, do I place my confidence.  Today I have to ask myself, how is my god my belly?  How do I imitate those who walk as enemies of the cross of Christ instead of imitating the saints?

In some ways this is a difficult concept, in others it is dead easy.  There are those, those that we in Christian circles generally refer to as “the world”, who live apparently only to satisfy their own desires.  These desires may be obviously sinful, like the womanizer, or they may be less obvious, like the idolater of family.  Some of the desires seem (and are in themselves) very good, and we feel justified in obsessing over them.  Things like marriage, children, a job.  Some of them are obviously sinful if we read scripture, but we have learned to justify them because they have been normalized for us or even glorified by our culture.  Sex, violence, self-centeredness.

The key point to this passage comes immediately before this passage begins:  “Forgetting what lies behind, and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”  Those who are mature are to think this way.  So the cares and desires of this world are things that we ought to forget as we continue on in the path to glory.

It would be easy, too easy, for me to turn this into a session of pointing fingers at those wicked sinners who have left the fold in favor of whatever appetite they desire to satisfy.  I could list every sin and how it defies scripture.  But there is another wicked sinner that is harder for me to examine, but that will be of greater benefit to me as I continue on in the race, in the discipline and sanctification that are mine by the gift of our loving Father.  I do not plan to share my deepest sins with the internet.  But I will walk through something of a rubric as I examine myself in case it may be of benefit to others.

As I look at my desires, some of which have been with me for a long time if not my whole life, I have a series of questions to ask to determine whether they are good or not.  The first question is Did I learn that it was good by watching TV or movies?  If so, it is immediately suspect.  Why is it suspect?  Because TV and movies are the primary windows we have to “the world” if we grew up in the church, as I did.  Question two:  Did I learn that it was good by listening to someone trying to persuade me of some ideal that isn’t Christianity?  Like a politician.  (As it turns out, nationalism and patriotism aren’t listed among the fruit of the Spirit.  I’m pretty sure those are Aristotelian virtues, not Christian ones.  And I never need to mention that again.)

Question three, now that the two easy ones are out of the way:  Is this desire rooted in fear?  I’m afraid of being alone, I’m afraid of being poor, I’m afraid of being shamed, so I want a wife and children to give me company, a high paying job to give me security, and the approval of the masses to give me validity.  And to the end of attaining these things, I will do anything necessary.  And until God gives me these things, I will not be satisfied.  I will not be satisfied in Him, I will not, because I can’t see Him and the world is big and scary and if I let go for a minute of my ambition and my single hope in the midst of all this chaos I will crumple up and die, a heap of ruined nothing.  How do I forget what lies behind when it surrounds me every second?

I press on, keeping my eyes on Christ who became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.  I imitate St. Paul and the other saints who counted all things as loss for the sake of Christ.  And I cry out to God, sometimes wordlessly as the Holy Spirit groans on my behalf.  Everyone who has run a marathon or a triathlon or around the block if they aren’t used to it will tell you that there comes a point when the only thing that keeps you running is will power.  Endurance.  Not physical endurance, but the resolution to keep on running.  In this resolution the physical endurance can manifest itself, but without the resolution it never can.  So we must be resolved to keep our eyes on Christ, to continue running the race, even when the exhaustion seems ready to overwhelm us and all we can see is pain, loss, or a mountain of unfulfilled desire.

And having asked the difficult question, we get to ask a fourth question that is even easier than the first two to answer but harder to accept:  This thing that I desire, is it Christ?  We might expand it slightly to “Is it something that Christ desires” but that gets us on dangerous ground, where we might all too easily deceive ourselves.  (“Of course Jesus desires me to be happy and fulfilled, so I will eat this giant taco of sin.  Because it makes me happy.”)  Is it Christ?  What goal am I pressing toward?  Do I make the upward call of God in Christ my aim?  Or do I make, for instance, fatherhood my aim?  Or priesthood?

This is not to say that all desires are bad.  I have a dear friend who is getting engaged any day now and he desires to get married.  This is good, and is from the Lord.  But the goal that he is pursuing is Christ, not his marriage.  Many desires that we have can be fulfilled during the course of this race, but they are not the goal.  Like the marathon runner, we may have secondary desires as we run the race.  We may want a drink of water as we run, and we may find someone on the sidelines to give us a cup as we run.  But the marathoner is not running for the water.

I said before that the key to this passage was found in the previous passage.  In a way it is.  But only the key to unlocking what I have just been writing of.  There is another key that we cannot forget.  Our citizenship is in heaven.  We leave this world behind because we are at home in another world.  We are being daily conformed to the image of Christ, but a time will come when our Savior returns when he will finally transform our lowly bodies to be like his glorious body.  The time is coming, and is not far off, when we will be with him and be made like him.  Take heart, little one.  Do not be afraid.  The one who has the power to subject all things to himself has called you and made you his child.

Thanks be to God, who does not abandon his children or leave them to suffer alone.

Forgetting what is behind

Philippians 3:1-14

Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you is no trouble to me and is safe for you.

Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh. For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh— though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

It is easy for me to read this passage uncritically, to remember only the context in which it was written, and to find great value in St. Paul’s instruction not to rely on the righteousness that comes from the Law.  I can even take it one step farther without much difficulty, applying it to my own time.  I was raised in a Christian tradition that often placed much weight on outward expressions of faith by following certain traditions in the line of “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, and don’t go with girls who do.”  And even here, I find great value.  The richness of this text allows for much benefit without digging too deeply.

I would like to take it one step beyond what I am most apt to do.  Rather than simply asking myself how I try to prove my righteousness by righteous acts, I will ask myself “In what, other than Christ, do I place my confidence?”  Because the apostle here encourages us not to find our joy and confidence in the flesh, but in the Lord.

Like so many of my peers, I am forced to admit that the majority of my fleshly confidence comes from my intelligence.  I was well educated, brought up to know the scriptures, to reason soundly, to understand the sciences and the humanities, and to draw rational conclusions through valid arguments.  For many of us in our age, these are the markers of our ability to be found worthy of the call of God.  This is particularly true if we apply our reasoning to knowing theology and choosing the right things to believe about Christ, as I had done.  While I cannot say with St. Paul that I have more reason to be confident in the flesh than the vast majority, I can say that I have as much reason as any and more than many.

We live in an age of Reason.  It is not like the Enlightenment, in which the physical sciences were blossoming and philosophers believed that they were illuminating truths that were self-evident.  In that time they sought truth that everyone could verify through reason.  In our age we seek conclusions that we personally believe to be correct, without need for verification.  Given the number of voices, we seek these truths with what seems to be rigor, but we are inclined to discard those that disagree with us too strongly.  So we apply our ability to reason to every field, believing ourselves to be capable of judging which speakers are worth listening to and which are not.  Having chosen a side in advance, we build up a wall of well-reasoned arguments, blocking ourselves from the rest of the world and refusing to hear those outside.  But given the number of voices still within our walls, we feel ourselves open-minded and critical, well informed and thus able to distinguish truth from superstition.  Being so fortified, we know ourselves to be right.  And from this position, we approach the Throne of Grace.

This is not an injunction to tear down the walls and let more voices in.  It is not an encouragement to be more open-minded when considering what is true.  Those might not be bad things, but they are not my point.  More deeply, for myself and for the reader, it is an encouragement simply to stop believing in my right to reason.  It is to give up that authority.

I have had several conversations with my pastor in which I have asked him about specific points of doctrine, particularly surrounding issues such as Holy Communion.  It has always been a question of “What are the different ideas, what does the Church say is happening, and what do you say is happening so that I can make up my mind about what I think is happening and put my flag in the ground.”  His answer is generally something like “Here are the different ideas and, Dan, you should really be more willing to accept Mystery and stop worrying so much about mechanics.”  (This is a paraphrase.  It takes him a lot longer to say this and he is far less blunt and more kind than this statement would make it appear.)

Why, then, am I so unwilling to accept Mystery?  Simply enough, it is because I insist on being right.  One side of me would say that it is simply out of arrogance.  I want desperately to never be wrong, because being wrong is shaming.  And if I let myself stop there, I fear that I would never grow.  What is more true is that I am terrified that if I am not right I will be rejected by God.  I must build up my fortifications of sound doctrine so that I may draw near to the Lord without fear of his disapproval.

What then can I say to these fears?  St. Paul has said it.  “Christ Jesus has made me his own.”  It is in this that our confidence truly lies.  Not that he has given us his approval like a gold star because of how well we have done, but that he has adopted us and made us his children.  We are saved through faith in Christ, not faith in our own thinking.

So we may count those things in which we placed our confidence as rubbish.  We may discard our systems and the security of personal authority because they do not help us.  And having discarded those weights, we press on toward the goal of knowing Christ, of becoming like him in his suffering and death, and of being raised with him to eternal life. 

Like a weaned child

Psalm 131

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
   my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
   too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
   like a weaned child with its mother;
   like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord
   from this time forth and forevermore.

I remember the first time I was floored by this psalm.  It was far from the first time I had read it.  After years of studying and discussing and arguing and fighting about theology, after tormenting myself and wallowing in suffering and crying out to God to tell me why and what next and how I would get there, I finally read this psalm again.

“I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.”

And I would dedicate hours to trying to understand how God made his decisions, why he would behave as he appeared to.  I would demand answers of God, satisfaction for my thirst for knowledge.  I would try to divine the future, to know the way that I should go.  And in my mind, this was all for the good.

It was rare that my soul would be quiet.  I’m not sure that I knew what it meant to be quiet.  Rage and fear I had in plenty, but I could not accept calm.  It felt stagnant, as if to rest with the Lord was to refuse to do the work I was called to.

What became apparent was that it was a refusal to do the work I was called to.  What was also apparent was that it was only myself who had called me to it.  In the years of trying to save myself by my understanding of God and my strict adherence to every step that he would have me take, I failed to understand even the simplest call.  “Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

I am still learning to rest with the Lord.  I’m not very good at it.  But as we’re entering Holy Week on Sunday I am reminded of this opportunity, as well as the danger.  We have more services, where we are given a chance to prove to ourselves and to God how hard we can love him by exhausting ourselves in our devotion.  God has no interest in this.  But as we enter Holy Week, we are given more opportunities to come into God’s presence with the church and to dwell on the reality of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.  I am looking forward to the time to rest with the Lord, as a weaned child with its mother.  Not to prove what I can do for God, but to receive from him.  Even, and perhaps especially, if that gift is only rest.

I will glory in His victory

Psalm 35

1 Fight those who fight me, O Lord;

attack those who are attacking me.

2 Take up shield and armor

and rise up to help me.

3 Draw the sword and bar the way against those who pursue me;

say to my soul, "I am your salvation."

4 Let those who seek after my life be shamed and humbled;

let those who plot my ruin fall back and be dismayed.

5 Let them be like chaff before the wind,

and let the angel of the Lord drive them away.

6 Let their way be dark and slippery,

and let the angel of the Lord pursue them.

7 For they have secretly spread a net for me without a cause;

without a cause they have dug a pit to take me alive.

8 Let ruin come upon them unawares;

let them be caught in the net they hid;

let them fall into the pit they dug.

9 Then I will be joyful in the Lord;

I will glory in his victory.

10 My very bones will say, "Lord, who is like you?

You deliver the poor from those who are too strong for them,

the poor and needy from those who rob them."

11 Malicious witnesses rise up against me;

they charge me with matters I know nothing about.

12 They pay me evil in exchange for good;

my soul is full of despair.

13 But when they were sick I dressed in sack-cloth

and humbled myself by fasting.

14 I prayed with my whole heart,

as one would for a friend or a brother;

I behaved like one who mourns for his mother,

bowed down and grieving.

15 But when I stumbled, they were glad and gathered together;

they gathered against me;

strangers whom I did not know tore me to pieces and would not stop.

16 They put me to the test and mocked me;

they gnashed at me with their teeth.

17 O Lord, how long will you look on?

rescue me from the roaring beasts,

and my life from the young lions.

18 I will give you thanks in the great congregation;

I will praise you in the mighty throng.

19 Do not let my treacherous foes rejoice over me,

nor let those who hate me without a cause wink at each other.

20 For they do not plan for peace,

but invent deceitful schemes against the quiet in the land.

21 They opened their mouths at me and said,

"Aha! we saw it with our own eyes."

22 You saw it, O Lord ; do not be silent;

O Lord, be not far from me.

23 Awake, arise, to my cause!

to my defense, my God and my Lord !

24 Give me justice, O Lord my God,

according to your righteousness;

do not let them triumph over me.

25 Do not let them say in their hearts,

"Aha! just what we want!"

Do not let them say, "We have swallowed him up."

26 Let all who rejoice at my ruin be ashamed and disgraced;

let those who boast against me be clothed with dismay and shame.

27 Let those who favor my cause sing out with joy and be glad;

let them say always, "Great is the Lord,

who desires the prosperity of his servant."

28 And my tongue shall be talking of your righteousness

and of your praise all the day long.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever.  Amen.

I do not have any enemies.  No one is plotting my death or overthrow, no one is even trying to get my job.  I go about utterly unthreatened by those around me.  I am not a king.  I am not even wealthy or influential.  I’m not very well known, and while I can’t say that I’m particularly popular among those who do know me, I also can’t honestly say that I’m particularly unpopular.  I am just a man without notoriety one way or another.  This can make it hard for me to relate to David sometimes.

This psalm gives me pause, particularly as I will often pray the psalms thinking of the “enemies” as those particular temptations or besetting sins that plague me however many times I repent, which I certainly do not believe is inappropriate.  But tonight I can’t help but think of those enemies that David wrote of as real enemies, as people out for his destruction.  Those who hated his righteousness and his prosperity.  And I am moved by his words.

David was repeatedly pursued by those who wanted him dead.  He had Saul in the early days, he had Philistine kings, he eventually had his own son and some of his old and trusted advisors working against him and trying to kill him, just to name a few.  This man knew what it was to have enemies.  And lest we forget, he also knew what it was to conquer his enemies.  He repeatedly defeated his enemies, killing those who sought to kill him or to shame God or the people of Israel.  Even when he was old he was reckoned a mighty warrior.  And he was a king.  Not just a king, but the king anointed by God to lead his people.  He had every right to rain down vengeance on his enemies.  And then we read this psalm (and many others like it).

David does not call on God to support him in his battle.  He does not ask God to strengthen him to take vengeance.  He does not seek favor in a campaign against his opponents.  He looks around at the enemies surrounding him and asks God to act.  Sure, he has some ideas about how he’d like God to act, but ultimately he only cries out to God to save him.  The first thing that David says he will do comes in verse 9.  “Then I will be joyful in the Lord; I will glory in his victory.”  David cries out for God to act, and all he intends to do is celebrate what God has done.  When we look at David’s response to the various attempts on his life, we get an even clearer picture.  He spent a lot of time in prayer, as indicated by his psalms.  He also spent a lot of time running away.

As I mentioned, I do not have any personal enemies.  But sometimes I get cut off in traffic, or a customer is demeaning, or someone on the internet will have the audacity to hold an opinion that I disagree with.  In my head, in my very sheltered world, these people become enemies to me.  And I must admit, I have difficulty being very gracious.  I will all too often find some way to take vengeance, whether it is making some sharp comment or simply insulting them to anyone who will listen.  I can only assume, then, that my inclination would be the same if I ever encountered a real enemy.  It seems unlikely that my response to an actual threat on my well-being would be to ask God to act while I continue to accept and endure enmity.

But David also takes it one step farther in this psalm.  Not only is he willing to endure the hatred of his enemies, waiting for God to act on his behalf while he flees the danger; he contrasts his actions with his enemies’ actions in verses 11-16.  His enemies delighted in his misfortune and even actively sought it.  But when they were sick he humbled himself and fasted on their behalf.  He actively sought their good, treating them as if they were his brothers.

I am reminded of the words of our Lord, as I am certain anyone reading this must be.  “Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.”  Treat them like your brothers.  Desire their good.  Don’t pray back-handed prayers that they might come to realize that you were right all along.  Don’t be a jerk under the pretense of “speaking the truth in love”.  Genuinely love your enemies, and sincerely pray for the good of those who persecute you.

The natural retort to that might easily be that David repeatedly prayed for the ruin and the shame of his enemies.  Honestly, I’m not sure how I would respond to that unless it were simply to say that sometimes that’s the only thing you can pray for.  Sure, I might also say that those who sought David’s life were seeking the destruction of God’s anointed.  I might say that we would be justified to pray for the shame and the destruction of those who seek to destroy the name of Christ or his body, the Church.  But I think it is truer to say that David was so distraught and felt so betrayed by those he had loved that he wrote this psalm from a place of torment.  And yet, he did not take matters into his own hands even then.  He left it to God to avenge.

I will remind the reader that, as I have made clear, I am not a bishop and do not hold any authority.  But I believe I am on safe ground when I say that God understands when we do not have the emotional capacity to pray for the prospering of those who would destroy us, if that were possible.  All the same, our high calling in Christ is to love our enemies.  And the ministry he has entrusted to us is one of reconciliation, not revenge.  So may we pray for the good of our enemies.  And when we cannot, Lord grant us the comfort of the Holy Spirit and the grace to pray “Thy will be done.”  Amen.

I will feed them with bitter food

Jeremiah 23:9-15

Concerning the prophets:

My heart is broken within me;

    all my bones shake;

I am like a drunken man,

    like a man overcome by wine,

because of the Lord

    and because of his holy words.

For the land is full of adulterers;

    because of the curse the land mourns,

    and the pastures of the wilderness are dried up.

Their course is evil,

    and their might is not right.

“Both prophet and priest are ungodly;

    even in my house I have found their evil,

declares the Lord.

Therefore their way shall be to them

    like slippery paths in the darkness,

    into which they shall be driven and fall,

for I will bring disaster upon them

    in the year of their punishment,

declares the Lord.

In the prophets of Samaria

    I saw an unsavory thing:

they prophesied by Baal

    and led my people Israel astray.

But in the prophets of Jerusalem

    I have seen a horrible thing:

they commit adultery and walk in lies;

    they strengthen the hands of evildoers,

    so that no one turns from his evil;

all of them have become like Sodom to me,

    and its inhabitants like Gomorrah.”

Therefore thus says the Lord of hosts concerning the prophets:

“Behold, I will feed them with bitter food

    and give them poisoned water to drink,

for from the prophets of Jerusalem

    ungodliness has gone out into all the land.”

In our age of continual prophecy, in which every one is a theologian and every voice has authority, it is all too easy to become angry and weary.  Constant battles rage online as one person after another seeks to explain what the scriptures really mean, often with no regard for what the Church has taught for centuries.  One voice will rise above others and gain a following.  Then another.  Then another.  These men and women form factions, sometimes form congregations, sometimes denominations based on one person’s view of scripture.  Within these factions individual reason is elevated above all.  What I understand to be true must be true, because my reason must not be flawed.

In the course of these wars we constantly see immorality take root.  We see false churches form, or once holy churches fall into corruption, for the sake of satisfying some personal desire and to deny God’s call to deny ourselves, to accept shame and suffering, and to follow Him.  Often this is as simple as a desire to satisfy our appetites without shame.  We want to drink as much as we want, sleep with whom we want, live however we want and above all never be told that we are wrong to do it, by God or by man.  Often it is more complex and insidious.  We want to fulfill our desire for safety, shielding ourselves from those who are different, who struggle with sins that we find uncomfortable and so we forge a doctrine that allows us to hate our neighbors and care nothing for love or justice.  And other times it is simply in order to elevate ourselves.  We believe in God, but we hold our own reason in a higher position.  We strive to understand the Lord by studying scripture, then we entrench in a system of theology, defending to the death the idea that we alone truly know Him.

My heart’s desire is that we would all learn to submit ourselves to authority, rather than setting ourselves up as the authorities.  Jeroboam built calves, saying to the kingdom of Israel “Here are the gods who led you out of Egypt.”  He had rejected the authority of God, of Moses, of Aaron.  He declared, “I have authority.  This is the truth.”  So we also set up our calves, telling others that this is the god who led us our of captivity.  But we reject the authority of God, of the apostles, of the church.  We find ourselves in a place where everyone has authority, so no authority is recognized.

My temptation is to blast all those who reject authority and will not submit.  My desire is to show them all the truth, to run point by point through every teaching and show them that they are wrong.  In the interest of leading men to repentance, I would further strengthen the lines that divide us.  And so I hear the words of the prophet.

It is not mine to punish those who go astray or those who would lead others from God.  The Lord’s desire is that his church would be one.  He hates our division and is disgusted by those who would lead others into sin.  He will feed them with bitter food and give them poisoned water to drink.  I may lament the devastation present, but it is not my place to avenge.  The Lord himself will punish what must be punished.  He is the king, he is the judge.  And so the burden is not mine to bear.

Come, Holy Spirit, and unite your church.  Help us to follow you, to submit ourselves to you, and to love our neighbors.  Free us from self-aggrandizement.  Teach us what it means to be salt and light for our fallen world.  Help us to love.

I was like a beast

Psalm 73:21-26

When my soul was embittered,

  when I was pricked in heart,

I was brutish and ignorant;

  I was like a beast toward you.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
  you hold my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,
  and afterward you will receive me to glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you?
  And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.

My flesh and my heart may fail,
  but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Romans 8:26-27

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.  And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

Having chosen today to begin this series of thoughts, I was pleased to find Psalm 73 in the lectionary.  This has never been a particular favorite of mine, but I am now struck with the knowledge that it ought to have been.  In the entire text of the psalm, we hear Asaph’s account of his own struggles with injustice: the corrupt prosper when they ought to be condemned.  But he finishes the psalm by turning his eyes away from those around him and back toward the Lord.  The corrupt may prosper in life, but what is that to him?  He does not desire what they have, for he has the Lord.

What particularly stood out to me and drew my attention to the rest of the psalm was the portion that begins the quoted text.  “When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart,/I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you.”  As he looked around at the corrupt prospering while he probably did not, he became bitter.  In his bitterness, he became a beast to God.  This is something to which I can relate only too well.  When I have been in the midst of sorrow, I have lost all of my higher faculties.  True, I believed that I reasoned well and was sensitive to my surroundings.  But in retrospect I am able to see the howling and the snarling, the bestial cries of anguish against a God who will not satisfy my appetites.  Bitterness became so overwhelming that I lost the ability to draw near to God.  I stood at bay in the corner of his house, teeth bared at any approach.

Nevertheless.  I find this to be a beautiful way to continue.  It isn’t the statement “Then I returned to my senses” or “When sorrows ended”.  I was brutish and ignorant, I was a beast.  Nevertheless.  Even as an animal, I am continually with you.  You love me and you guide me, and you will receive me to glory.  Brute though I am.

In the most difficult times of life, it can be difficult to stay with the Lord.  We may feel that he has abandoned us.  We may feel that he hates us and is seeking our destruction.  Often we may come to resent God and to resent the church because we are in pain and he and they are doing nothing to alleviate it.  Or we may simply believe that he doesn’t care what happens, or that he doesn’t exist.  In our bitterness we may draw lots of conclusions.  May this psalm be an encouragement to us.  In the midst of our trials, when it is hardest and we are the most ignorant and brutish, may we continue with the Lord.

In his way, St. Paul illuminates this idea for us.   Since I learned to read Paul rightly, not as a dry theologian but as a man who deeply loved the Lord and often grew over-excited about him, I have also learned to love his descriptions of God’s work.  As he expands on ideas that have become almost mundane for many of us who have grown up reading his letters, you can see him getting carried away.  It is believable that his handwriting got larger as he went on.  And so it is in Romans.

St. Paul speaks directly to this idea (though not, of course, solely to this idea) that Asaph wrote of in the psalm.  He is writing about suffering, and about the glory prepared for us.  And he explains to us the very reason that I now encourage all of us to remain with the Lord throughout our trials.  We are mere beasts when our hearts grow bitter, but even in this state the Holy Spirit groans for us.  When we do not know what to pray, when we cannot approach the throne of grace with confidence, the Spirit cries out on our behalf.  He prays for us more fruitfully than we can pray for ourselves, because he knows the will of the Father.

Perhaps the most beautiful part of the picture is that all of this is the work of God.  He takes us into his care, he lovingly tends us because he desires to.  He is under no obligation, he doesn’t do it against his will.  He watches over us, he gives us his Spirit, he guides us, and he will receive us into glory, into the inheritance that we share with his Son.

Truly, whom have I in heaven but you?  And what on earth can I desire but the Lord?  What could ever compare?  Still, our desires will rage and we will long for things that do not satisfy.  We will howl.  And throughout, nevertheless, he will groan for us.

Thanks be to God.