Psalm 106 is the one appointed for this morning, a long account of Israel's sins from the Exodus through the period of the Judges (around 1280-1000 BCE). The psalm dates from the Babylonian captivity around 587 BCE.
Beginning with a big Hallelujah (vv. 1-5) the psalmists declare, "We have sinned as our forebears did..." The next many verses relate the murmuring, idolatry, failures to remember God's miracles (vv. 13, 21), and provocations of Moses (vv. 19-33) that accompanied the deliverance of Hebrew slaves to freedom.
The people so blessed kept up their sinning even in the promised land, practicing infant sacrifice (vv. 37-38) and intermingling with heathen (v. 35). God punished and then delivered them many a time. "He remembered his covenant with them and relented in accordance with his great mercy" (v. 45).
How could God put up with such rebellious and disobedient people? Because he really. Truly. Loved them.
And now the psalmists pray from Babylon, "Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from among the nations" (v. 47)
And so pray we too, from the American Empire: Save us, Lord, from our murmuring, idolatries, and failures to remember. Save us from our participation in the sins of the culture that provoke You beyond our understanding. Save us that we may glory in your praise (v. 47).
"And let all the people say, 'Amen'!" (v. 48)
Hallelujah
Monday, June 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
God's Point of View from 1st and 2nd Ian
My daughter Samantha sent me a link to a 1997 piece by Ian Frazier (You can read the entire column at http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/199702/lamentations-father).
"Laws Concerning Food and Drink; Household Principles; Lamentations of the Father
"Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room....
"But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.
"And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke....
".....Do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.
"Laws Pertaining to Dessert
For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert;....
"Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances
Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand...."
And I add my own (Pru) ending (that future redactors may call 2nd Ian):
"These edicts I pronounce because I am your father/mother, and I love you. You are my child, I brought you forth, I gave you your name; and you are mine."
"Laws Concerning Food and Drink; Household Principles; Lamentations of the Father
"Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room....
"But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.
"And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke....
".....Do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.
"Laws Pertaining to Dessert
For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert;....
"Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances
Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand...."
And I add my own (Pru) ending (that future redactors may call 2nd Ian):
"These edicts I pronounce because I am your father/mother, and I love you. You are my child, I brought you forth, I gave you your name; and you are mine."
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Beulah Land
Towards the end of Pilgrim's Progress the protagonist, Christian, spends time in the Land of Beulah. After slogging through the Slough of Despond, struggling through temptations of Vanity Fair, and doing time in a cage owned and maintained by the giant Despair, he and his friends are granted earthly rest and celestial fellowship before having to cross the River of Death.
They found all tastes and sounds pleasant ["only when they tasted of the Water of the River over which they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the Palate but it proved sweeter when 'twas down" :-)] The paradox of religion is that while you can't boast you've "arrived," you do reach a point where you are "there" (here!).
Beulah Land represents Christian maturity, the end of certain strivings. I think often of my friend Helen, who would exclaim, "I'm listening to you girls fret over things that I resolved years ago!" We younger women had to work through our dry spells, our vocational disappointments, and our doubts. Like Christian in John Bunyan's classic allegory, we found no short cuts. Helen, although she had more than her share of pain and struggle, was witnessing to us her experience of Beulah Land.
Those who grow old in the Lord continue to bloom:
They shall continue to grow in old age
They shall be juicy and leafy (Ps 92:13)
As St. Paul says, while the outward form is passing away, the spirit within grows in the Lord. Or: should the spirit within grow tumultuous, fearful, depressed, or any of what C.S. Lewis names as "the law of human undulation," these states are committed to the Lord also. Because Christ is with us in all; that realization makes this land "Beulah."
****
Here is the refrain from the hymn "Beulah Land" by Edgar P. Stites
(Based on Isaiah 6:2)
O Beulah Land, sweet Beulah Land,
As on thy highest mount I stand,
I look away across the sea,
Where mansions are prepared for me,
And view the shining glory shore,
My Heav’n, my home forever more!
The composer said after he wrote the first two stanzas he fell on his face, overcome with awe.
They found all tastes and sounds pleasant ["only when they tasted of the Water of the River over which they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the Palate but it proved sweeter when 'twas down" :-)] The paradox of religion is that while you can't boast you've "arrived," you do reach a point where you are "there" (here!).
Beulah Land represents Christian maturity, the end of certain strivings. I think often of my friend Helen, who would exclaim, "I'm listening to you girls fret over things that I resolved years ago!" We younger women had to work through our dry spells, our vocational disappointments, and our doubts. Like Christian in John Bunyan's classic allegory, we found no short cuts. Helen, although she had more than her share of pain and struggle, was witnessing to us her experience of Beulah Land.
Those who grow old in the Lord continue to bloom:
They shall continue to grow in old age
They shall be juicy and leafy (Ps 92:13)
As St. Paul says, while the outward form is passing away, the spirit within grows in the Lord. Or: should the spirit within grow tumultuous, fearful, depressed, or any of what C.S. Lewis names as "the law of human undulation," these states are committed to the Lord also. Because Christ is with us in all; that realization makes this land "Beulah."
****
Here is the refrain from the hymn "Beulah Land" by Edgar P. Stites
(Based on Isaiah 6:2)
O Beulah Land, sweet Beulah Land,
As on thy highest mount I stand,
I look away across the sea,
Where mansions are prepared for me,
And view the shining glory shore,
My Heav’n, my home forever more!
The composer said after he wrote the first two stanzas he fell on his face, overcome with awe.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Matthew Speaks
Last night I experienced again the Kingdom of God in a flurorescent lit room around a deal table sharing pizza from paper plates with beloved brothers and sisters--havuroth of the adult education group. We watched the first fourteen chapters of Matthew on a DVD and wow!
Here came Jesus, flashing eye and smile, with a voice like Kevin Kostner's--getting baptized by a truly scary John and then setting out to preach, teach, and heal. Every now and then we'd cut out to the "old" Matthew dictating the Gospel to his scribes. All in all, quite vivid.
The sensational parts:
-- Jesus so affectonate and gleeful. Hugging, patting, laughing, kissing the people. When he healed the leper the two started rolling around on the ground together shouting for joy.
--His jokiness, pulling a big stick in front of his eye to illustrate the "log," dumping a bucket of water over someone's head during the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus had a broad humor, according to this CD according to Matthew.
--After every miracle of healing people laughed, cried, and danced; for the Messiah had manifested the Kingdom.
--The utter strangeness of the message smacked one in the face. Usually I think I understand pretty well, but hearing it like this, there was no getting it: "The fish will be sorted at the end of the age." "An enemy planted these weeds."
At times like these you just open up to the message and try not to analyze too much. Give thanks for the ongoing life with the brothers and sisters and sacramental pizza in the Kingdom of God.
Here came Jesus, flashing eye and smile, with a voice like Kevin Kostner's--getting baptized by a truly scary John and then setting out to preach, teach, and heal. Every now and then we'd cut out to the "old" Matthew dictating the Gospel to his scribes. All in all, quite vivid.
The sensational parts:
-- Jesus so affectonate and gleeful. Hugging, patting, laughing, kissing the people. When he healed the leper the two started rolling around on the ground together shouting for joy.
--His jokiness, pulling a big stick in front of his eye to illustrate the "log," dumping a bucket of water over someone's head during the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus had a broad humor, according to this CD according to Matthew.
--After every miracle of healing people laughed, cried, and danced; for the Messiah had manifested the Kingdom.
--The utter strangeness of the message smacked one in the face. Usually I think I understand pretty well, but hearing it like this, there was no getting it: "The fish will be sorted at the end of the age." "An enemy planted these weeds."
At times like these you just open up to the message and try not to analyze too much. Give thanks for the ongoing life with the brothers and sisters and sacramental pizza in the Kingdom of God.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Beginning (Again)
Dear Lord, how did You ever do it, create everything?
Where did you get the IDEAS??
Tradition says You followed a recipe,
That Wisdom had drawn up a blueprint
You looked at it:
"Hmmmn, first divide the light from the dark..."
Then carefully pulled them apart.
I saw this operation once, flying to China.
Out the window I saw the place of
Light on one side and Dark on the other:
Evening and Morning, First Day.
How Wisdom created, then? By first making a mess
Then cleaning it up
That's how it works to this day.
Creation begins in Chaos.
Where did you get the IDEAS??
Tradition says You followed a recipe,
That Wisdom had drawn up a blueprint
You looked at it:
"Hmmmn, first divide the light from the dark..."
Then carefully pulled them apart.
I saw this operation once, flying to China.
Out the window I saw the place of
Light on one side and Dark on the other:
Evening and Morning, First Day.
How Wisdom created, then? By first making a mess
Then cleaning it up
That's how it works to this day.
Creation begins in Chaos.
Friday, June 5, 2009
For the Sake of the Low-Paying Ministries
"And Peter said, 'Lo, we have left our homes and followed you...'" (Lk 18:28)
This passage always reminds me how hard it was to move from our dear house in Sanborn. I really really loved that house. It was old; the first part built in 1889. The top floor added later by someone who didn't realize you had to put walls on top of other walls. It was all higgeldy-piggeldy. Many things about it were thus homemade and suited our humble lifestyle. The dining room had a lovely little built-in cupboard with glass doors and drawers underneath for the tablecloths. We had a parlor with a stone fireplace that the Realtor called "rubble." "I love her very rubble!" I responded (Ps 102:14). Denny built a big set of shelves in the living room (using the wood from our old waterbed!), and together we re-decorated every room. I still long for that green and white hallway wallpaper with birds on it. But Denny insisted we sell because the kids were grown and we both had low-paying ministry jobs in the faraway city, and we couldn't keep pounding two cars down those highways.
We had filled the house with family hand-me-downs that turned out to be antiques, and many pieces had to be sold for the move to a smaller place in the city. Of our huge "Lincoln bed," Denny said, "Someone came home from the Civil War and threw himself down on that bed without even taking his boots off, and he slept and slept." So many cups of tea had been drunk around Grandma's walnut square table with ornate wrought-iron legs. Denny said he truly appreciated the beauty of the work when he beheld it from underneath as he loaded it onto the antique dealer's truck. A very old--we thought junky--cherry dresser from the country place brought $500.00. We felt guilty not giving all proceeds to the poor; but we felt we were giving up much for the sake of the low-paying ministries.
It actually felt sacrificial to sell the house where our kids had grown up and furniture we had inherited from prosperous forebears. I processed the trauma in dreams of a broad gushing river with our worldly goods tossing in white water as they were carried away. I dreamed of sneaking in behind the birdy wallpaper to get next to the plaster itself. Over time, I could dream that I was seeing the house from the outside, from the intersection of the Old Littleton Road with Rte. 111. The psyches adjusted to the loss of friends, house, and goods.
I can't say we lived happily ever after, at least right away. Denny and I would drive out to Sanborn on weekends from the hot dirty city ; and even he would say, as we walked our dog Abner through the rolling green orchards or enjoyed the breezes of the town beach, "I'm homesick; we made a mistake." But of course one "who puts hand to the plough and then looks back is unfit for the Kingdom..." We had to quit looking back and move on.
We moved on to St. James's in Cambridge, and found dear close brothers and sisters. That is where my Psalms meditations began, with the priest requesting writings for the Sunday bulletin. Denny and I both served in strenuous, full fruitful ministries with addicts, Denny at the methadone clinic, and I in several modalities from detox to outpatient to 28-day WomensHope. We buried dear black-and-white Abner and later moved on with "Miss Gray" Daisy to Happy Valley, whose beautiful Grace saints surrounded us tenderly when Denny was dying. If not for leaving those houses and goods behind, Denny and I would never have received "a hundredfold now in this age--houses, brothers and sisters...and fields with persecutions..." (Mk 10:30)
Now I've moved again. Denny has died, and so has Daisy, and I have another house, in No. Carolina; and another dog, who is Sassy; and new Christian brothers and sisters; and grandsons across the street; and a hope for further (low-paying) Psalms ministry. I see from the way things worked out so far that I can claim that hundredfold passage as a promise "in this age, and in the age to come eternal life."
This passage always reminds me how hard it was to move from our dear house in Sanborn. I really really loved that house. It was old; the first part built in 1889. The top floor added later by someone who didn't realize you had to put walls on top of other walls. It was all higgeldy-piggeldy. Many things about it were thus homemade and suited our humble lifestyle. The dining room had a lovely little built-in cupboard with glass doors and drawers underneath for the tablecloths. We had a parlor with a stone fireplace that the Realtor called "rubble." "I love her very rubble!" I responded (Ps 102:14). Denny built a big set of shelves in the living room (using the wood from our old waterbed!), and together we re-decorated every room. I still long for that green and white hallway wallpaper with birds on it. But Denny insisted we sell because the kids were grown and we both had low-paying ministry jobs in the faraway city, and we couldn't keep pounding two cars down those highways.
We had filled the house with family hand-me-downs that turned out to be antiques, and many pieces had to be sold for the move to a smaller place in the city. Of our huge "Lincoln bed," Denny said, "Someone came home from the Civil War and threw himself down on that bed without even taking his boots off, and he slept and slept." So many cups of tea had been drunk around Grandma's walnut square table with ornate wrought-iron legs. Denny said he truly appreciated the beauty of the work when he beheld it from underneath as he loaded it onto the antique dealer's truck. A very old--we thought junky--cherry dresser from the country place brought $500.00. We felt guilty not giving all proceeds to the poor; but we felt we were giving up much for the sake of the low-paying ministries.
It actually felt sacrificial to sell the house where our kids had grown up and furniture we had inherited from prosperous forebears. I processed the trauma in dreams of a broad gushing river with our worldly goods tossing in white water as they were carried away. I dreamed of sneaking in behind the birdy wallpaper to get next to the plaster itself. Over time, I could dream that I was seeing the house from the outside, from the intersection of the Old Littleton Road with Rte. 111. The psyches adjusted to the loss of friends, house, and goods.
I can't say we lived happily ever after, at least right away. Denny and I would drive out to Sanborn on weekends from the hot dirty city ; and even he would say, as we walked our dog Abner through the rolling green orchards or enjoyed the breezes of the town beach, "I'm homesick; we made a mistake." But of course one "who puts hand to the plough and then looks back is unfit for the Kingdom..." We had to quit looking back and move on.
We moved on to St. James's in Cambridge, and found dear close brothers and sisters. That is where my Psalms meditations began, with the priest requesting writings for the Sunday bulletin. Denny and I both served in strenuous, full fruitful ministries with addicts, Denny at the methadone clinic, and I in several modalities from detox to outpatient to 28-day WomensHope. We buried dear black-and-white Abner and later moved on with "Miss Gray" Daisy to Happy Valley, whose beautiful Grace saints surrounded us tenderly when Denny was dying. If not for leaving those houses and goods behind, Denny and I would never have received "a hundredfold now in this age--houses, brothers and sisters...and fields with persecutions..." (Mk 10:30)
Now I've moved again. Denny has died, and so has Daisy, and I have another house, in No. Carolina; and another dog, who is Sassy; and new Christian brothers and sisters; and grandsons across the street; and a hope for further (low-paying) Psalms ministry. I see from the way things worked out so far that I can claim that hundredfold passage as a promise "in this age, and in the age to come eternal life."
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The Promised Wilderness
The preacher Sunday in a sermon about water presented the image of the Hebrew slaves of the Exodus marching through parted waters and stepping out on the other shore right into the Promised Land.
"As if!" I thought. Would that we could go straight there! If only we could fast forward through those forty years of contentions and murmurings, the golden calf stuff, the getting lost, and the quaking in our boots in the face of victory.
Then I thought, little do we realize that our journey through this sometimes strange wilderness of created being is actually the promised Kingdom of Heaven.
If we are troubled by "conflicts on the outside and fears on the inside" (2 Cor 7:5), we are in good company. If our failures and stumbles lead to "godly grief" that leads back to the Way, then this is where the Kingdom has come: right here, not somewhere greater or more glorious. Once we have been crucified with Christ, as Paul says elsewhere (Gal 2:20) we are already walking in newness of life. This is It, we are Here.
The People of God remembered their wilderness days, not only as hardship, but as a honeymoon time with the Lord. They ate manna. The Lord led them with cloud by day and fire by night. They realized, as we can too, that traveling through scrubby desert we are living in the Promise.
"As if!" I thought. Would that we could go straight there! If only we could fast forward through those forty years of contentions and murmurings, the golden calf stuff, the getting lost, and the quaking in our boots in the face of victory.
Then I thought, little do we realize that our journey through this sometimes strange wilderness of created being is actually the promised Kingdom of Heaven.
If we are troubled by "conflicts on the outside and fears on the inside" (2 Cor 7:5), we are in good company. If our failures and stumbles lead to "godly grief" that leads back to the Way, then this is where the Kingdom has come: right here, not somewhere greater or more glorious. Once we have been crucified with Christ, as Paul says elsewhere (Gal 2:20) we are already walking in newness of life. This is It, we are Here.
The People of God remembered their wilderness days, not only as hardship, but as a honeymoon time with the Lord. They ate manna. The Lord led them with cloud by day and fire by night. They realized, as we can too, that traveling through scrubby desert we are living in the Promise.
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