A Psalm on the Eve of an Election

Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation. (Psalm 146:3)

The election season of 2024 will come to a climax tomorrow when millions of American voters voice their opinion collectively by casting their ballots for political candidates and constitutional amendments. Many are saying it is the most consequential election of our lifetimes. While I’m a bit cynical because I’ve heard that claim many times in my six decades of life, the issues and the divide between the candidates are substantial. The four year cycle of campaigning feels non-stop and has come to take an outsized place in our culture, dominating conversations, overrunning social media, and generating much anxiety. But is it truly that consequential?

On the one hand, elections matter immensely. The government through its laws and enforcement agencies compels people to do all kinds of things that they wouldn’t do otherwise, everything from paying taxes and saving for retirement, to wearing masks and social distancing. We give politicians the power to take our money, spend it on things we don’t want, and even use deadly force to sustain a vision of the common good. The government wields this force by the consent of the governed. Citizens can influence this process by voting, petitioning officials and through legal action in the court system. Often elections are decided on very thin margins. One vote can make a difference.

Moreover, elections allow us to weigh in on our vision of the common good, each candidate and their parties representing a competing vision of the good life. Beneath the party platform lie foundational beliefs about the nature and meaning of life. In fact, the power of the government to define reality by judicial fiat is stunning. 

Consider the case of marriage. The Judeo-Christian vision of marriage is of a man and a woman in a life-long covenant relationship that is ordered toward the creation of life, the formation of family and the training of children. As recently as 2008, this was the stated view of the vast majority of Americans, from Mitt Romney to Barack Obama. Just seven years later, a novel definition of marriage was enshrined by the Supreme Court compelling everyone to believe and celebrate that marriage is actually none of those things. 

Or take the issue of human life. The right to life is enshrined in the Declaration of Independence as fundamental, right alongside liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Yet since the 1970s that right has been denied to over 60 million unborn children as the “right to an abortion for any reason” has taken its place. Under the cover of euphemisms like “reproductive rights” and “women’s health”, the violent destruction of life in the womb is sanctioned by law and celebrated by many as a cherished freedom. 

It’s commonly said that you can’t legislate morality, but that is patently false. You can legislate morality just as surely you can legislate immorality. The psalmists asks rhetorically, 

Can wicked rulers be allied with you,

those who fashion injustice by statute?

They band together against the life of the righteous

and condemn the innocent to death. (Psalm 94:20-21)

Of course it is possible to legislate injustice, and our history as a nation is replete with examples. Voting and participation in the political process give us the opportunity to correct those injustices, to enact just laws, to reframe our understanding of reality and the common good. It is consequential.

However, as significant as this election may be in directing the vision of our nation in the immediate future, I take a great deal of comfort in considering the long view of history as well, the view of the psalmist who said, “The nations rage, kingdoms totter, he lifts his voice, the earth melts.” (Psalm 46:6)

The raging of our nation is a reflection of our competing visions of reality: life, marriage, family, sexuality, gender, and equality. Our resistance to the moral constraints designed by our Creator for our good is as futile as denying the law of gravity. Kingdoms totter when they shift from their foundations, and this is where we are in 2024, shifting and tottering upon the shaky fantasy that we know more than our Maker, that we have a right to define our own reality. The LORD lifts his voice. He speaks into our lives and into our community. He reveals truth and commands obedience. He is the unchallenged authority on all things. The lie believed on by the people of the earth melts away before the all-consuming purity of the LORD, our Creator and Law-giver.  

I will vote. I will attempt to persuade others. I will not despair. The LORD is my help, He steadies my steps, He cheers my soul. 

Who rises up for me against the wicked?

    Who stands up for me against evildoers?

If the LORD had not been my help,

    my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.

When I thought, “My foot slips,”

    your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up.

When the cares of my heart are many,

    your consolations cheer my soul. (Psalm 94:16-19)

Praise Him, sun and moon

Reflections on a solar eclipse

On April 8, 2024 I was one of more than 31 million people who observed a total solar eclipse as the moon cast its shadow on the earth, darkening a 100 mile wide path across the continent moving at the speed of 1,600 miles per hour. Most people would consider themselves fortunate to see one such event in their lifetime, and I’ve been blessed to have seen two in the last seven years. Only eight solar eclipses are predicted to affect the US throughout the entire 21st century, with the next major, coast to coast eclipse occurring on August 12, 2045.

My wife and I drove four hours from our home in southwest Missouri to see the total eclipse with friends in Mountain View, Arkansas. Situated on a hill overlooking fields and forests in every direction, the site was an ideal spot to observe this cosmic event. Friends and family gathered for the occasion, the smell of charcoal and grilled burgers adding to the sense of anticipation. Children excitedly sported their special glasses, older kids played with a football in the field, while the adults chatted with one another. I talked with Tim, a white-haired grandfather, there with his two grandsons, for what would be his third eclipse. His first was onboard a ship at sea, courtesy of the US Navy. This would most certainly be his last, and he wanted to share the moment and create a memory with his grandchildren. Knowing what was coming, I was excited for everyone to experience the profoundly spiritual moment that was speeding on its way from over the waters of the Pacific.

At 12:34 we observed the first contact as a little dot appeared on the lower left side of the sun. Checking back every few minutes for the next hour, we watched as the sun’s familiar circle became a moon-like crescent, and as the air around us cooled at midday, the once blinding sun became evermore dim. I noticed the crickets chirping at 1:45, duped by the moon into thinking that evening had come early. The birds began their wake up song mistakenly announcing what they thought to be a new day. The pace of the growing darkness quickened and in a moment, I looked up to see the crescent sun transformed into a spectacular ring, one last jewel of light bursting from the now extinguished sun. 

A total solar eclipse is truly a cosmic event in that it involves celestial bodies of immense proportions all moving in a delicate dance. The Master Designer and Choreographer of the Universe created a sun 400 times the size of the moon and then placed it 400 times further away from the earth. The effect of this proportional design is that from the perspective of the earth, the moon appears to be the same size as the sun, covering it completely during a solar eclipse. This is a phenomenon that occurs nowhere else in the solar system. It’s as if God wanted us to experience an eclipse. 

The psalmist said, “the heavens declare the glory of God, the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech, and night after night they display knowledge (19:1,2).” Normally the sun and moon display God’s glory independently of one another. The sun takes the stage during the day, while the moon puts on its show at night. But occasionally their paths cross during the day, and the two perform for our delight simultaneously, the moon casting its night-like shadow on the earth, and the sun revealing its stunning crown (the corona) in a singular moment. The sudden darkness allows the sun’s reflected light to illuminate Venus (the Morning Star) on its right and Jupiter to its left. This is clearly a case of God just showing off.

Ask anyone who has experienced a total solar eclipse to describe it, and they will use words like “spiritual” or “religious”. Perhaps there is no exact word for it because it is like nothing else, and words can’t express the emotion of it all. I would describe it as a “liminal” experience. The word liminal is from the Latin word for “threshold.” It is to be on the precipice of something but not quite there yet. A total eclipse gives one the sense of being on that threshold between the physical reality we’re familiar with and the spiritual reality that we intuit. In a liminal moment the physical world meets the spiritual and the space between them becomes thin. 

A total eclipse is a sensational experience, and by that I mean that it engages your senses in a profound and surprising way -- the sudden drop in temperature on a hot afternoon, the rush of cool air on your skin, the sound of birds and crickets in the middle of day, the glorious beauty of a diamond ring in the sky, the soft glow of a sunrise (or is it a sunset?) in every direction, the quickening of the heart to take it all in before it inevitably ends -- these combine to create an uncanny sense of unreality. In that moment I had a profound awareness of the presence of the God whose fingertips crafted the sun, moon and earth to be their exact size, calibrated their mass with the force of gravity, and then set them in motion eons ago so that they would align in this moment, the three becoming one for the pleasure of all.

The ancients always considered a solar eclipse to be an ominous sign. A toppled kingdom, a stunning defeat in battle or an environmental catastrophe was soon to follow the brief disappearance of the sun. Some today attempt to connect these phenomena to current events, making fantastic prophetic predictions. However, Jesus made it clear that, “an evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:39-40). In other words, the only sign we really need has already been given to us. It is the sign of Jesus’ resurrection. In the same way that Jonah was swallowed in the dark waters of the sea and emerged alive three days later, so Jesus was swallowed by death itself and obscured in darkness, only to rise again on the third day. 

If you think about it, a total solar eclipse is a reminder of that sign, the only sign that ultimately matters. On a Friday afternoon two millennia ago, the Light of the World was extinguished by death. Crucified and suspended above the earth, a crowd looked up to the lifeless body of Jesus, the Son of God. Heaven had come and touched the earth in the person of Jesus, and yet we rejected this gift because we loved the darkness more than the light. His body was removed from the cross, placed in a tomb, and covered with death’s shroud. A massive stone was rolled over its entrance. The sun refused to shine that afternoon. There was darkness at midday. 

On a Monday afternoon in Mountain View, I watched as the moon began its slow retreat across the face of the sun. I thought of that massive stone, cold and heavy, rolled away from the entrance to the tomb of Jesus on a Sunday morning. The eclipse moved into reverse, the powerful light of the sun inevitably dispelling every last vestige of darkness. The cold, lifeless moon returned to its place in the darkness, vanquished once more. It was most certainly a sign, a promise that the Light of the World has indeed come, and the darkness cannot overcome it (John 1:5). 

If I haven’t moved to my new home in heaven by August 12, 2045, you will find me somewhere in the path of totality on that day, joining my voice with the song of sun and moon, declaring the glory of God and the victory of Jesus. 

Hallelujah!
Praise God from heaven,
    praise him from the mountaintops;
Praise him, all you his angels,
    praise him, all you his warriors,
Praise him, sun and moon,
    praise him, you morning stars;
Praise him, high heaven,
    praise him, heavenly rain clouds;
Praise, oh let them praise the name of God—
    he spoke the word, and there they were!

He set them in place
    from all time to eternity;
He gave his orders,
    and that’s it! 

(Psalm 148:1-6, The Message)

The shields of the earth belong to God

The Iowa caucus today marks the official beginning of the 2024 election for president of the United States. By polling, the majority of Americans do not want to see a rematch of the 2020 election, and yet it seems likely. As unsettling as this may be, there is a truth that gives me comfort and confidence in this and every political season. It’s found in the last verse of an exuberant hymn of praise, Psalm 47. 

“The shields of the earth belong to God.” (Psalm 47:9)

What do “the shields of the earth” have to do with an election? Let’s unpack it a bit.

A shield is a defensive tool to block the blows of a sword or stop a flying arrow, preventing injury and preserving life. The psalmist frequently identifies the LORD as his shield:

But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. (Psalm 3:3)

For you bless the righteous, O LORD; you cover him with favor as with a shield. (Psalm 5:12)

For the LORD God is a sun and shield, the LORD bestows favor and honor. (Psalm 84:11)

But there are also psalms in which the anointed king of Israel is identified as the shield of the nation as in,

Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed! (Psalm 84:9)

In this verse, “our shield” and “your anointed” correspond to one another. The shield of the people and the anointed of God refer to the king, and “looking on the face” is another way of saying, “show him favor.” This then is a prayer for God’s favor to be on the king, with the understanding that this same favor would flow through the king to his subjects. 

A shield is a good metaphor for a king because the primary role of the king was that of a defender. The king maintained and often led the army in defending the nation from foreign invasion, providing national security. In addition, ancient Hebrew kings were also responsible to protect the weakest and most vulnerable of society as evidenced in this prayer for the king at his coronation:

May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the children of the needy, and crush the oppressor! (Psalm 72:4)

The role of government is that of defender of the nation, whether from foreign attack or from injustice within. Our elected leaders swear an oath to protect and defend the constitution of the United States, a legal framework for the protection of every citizen’s rights. As commander-in-chief, the president is entrusted with national security.

So as we begin the process of choosing “our shield” for the next four years, it’s good to know that “the shields of the earth belong to God.” God is the ultimate sovereign of planet earth and every king, prime minister, president, tyrant, and tin-pot dictator belongs to him. We would do well to remember that “the king's heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will.” (Proverbs 21:1)

Because of this, the Apostle Paul urges us to make praying for world leaders our first priority, 

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Timothy 2:1-4)

Throughout biblical history, God has directed the hearts of kings to do his will. He softened the heart of the Egyptian pharaoh in Joseph’s day to favor God’s people. Then He hardened the heart of another pharaoh in Moses’ day who showed them contempt. God humbled the Syrian general Naaman and the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, and although “pagans”, they each became witnesses to His greatness. God moved the Persian King Cyrus to return the Jewish captives to their homeland, and He used a decree of Caesar Augustus to move a young couple from Nazareth to Bethlehem, the city of David, to fulfill a prophecy of the messiah’s birth there. The actions of King Herod would send the infant messiah to live in Egypt, fulfilling another prophecy, and the words of a Roman procurator would condemn that same messiah to death on a cross, ultimately fulfilling God’s mission to offer salvation to the world. 

God is at work in human history through human leaders. How God’s complete sovereignty and human free will are entangled remains a mystery to me, but of this I am sure: God is writing the story, and He’s already told us the ending.

All the kings of the earth shall give you thanks, O LORD,
for they have heard the words of your mouth,
and they shall sing of the ways of the LORD,
    for great is the glory of the LORD. (Psalm 138:4,5)

So when you pray and participate in our democracy, you can be confident that whatever the election result, the “shields of the earth” will always belong to God. And you can find assurance in God’s promise that “when the earth totters, and all its inhabitants, it is I who keep steady its pillars.” (Psalm 75:3)

1,196 Days in the Psalms

On September 29, 2019 I started a slow journey through the Psalms. My goal was to reflect on 1 or 2 verses from the Psalms each day and write down those reflections in a devotional journal. The first psalm invites us to meditate day and night on the Torah, the word of God, with the promise of a fruitful life. This life is pictured as a tree planted by streams of water, constantly refreshed and fed through roots tapping into the source of life, infusing every branch, limb and leaf. Biblical mediation has been likened to the process of chewing, and as a child I was taught to chew my food 32 times before swallowing (something I’ve never managed to accomplish). What if I chewed with that kind of intensity on small morsels of scripture every day, savoring them in my mouth and mind for long periods of time?

Today marks the end of those 1,196 days in the Psalms. Full disclosure: I wasn’t completely consistent. I missed some days here and there, but I made sure to catch up in order to keep on track. My usual habit was to rise and pour a cup of coffee, open my laptop, and pray Psalm 119:18, “Open my eyes that I may behold wonderful things in your law.” I would then read the text in Hebrew using the Hebrew/English interlinear at Biblehub.com. (You don’t need to know Hebrew to do this, here’s how). Sometimes there was an interesting word to investigate further, but most of the time I just made observations, asked questions, made connections, and always listened for God’s voice to help me apply truth to my life and the world. Periodically I uploaded those reflections to my website as commentary, hoping that someone might find them helpful.

Here’s what I’ve learned in the last three years, three months and nine days as I prayed a few verses of a psalm every day. 

It’s a great way to start the day.

In Psalm 63:1, David prayed, “O God, my God, early will I seek you.” The Hebrew word translated early can be understood in both its temporal sense (early in the morning) and in its qualitative sense (first and foremost). Most modern translations lean toward the latter and translate the phrase, “earnestly I seek you”, while older translations favor “early” in its temporal sense. Like many things in the scriptures, both can be true at the same time. There is something to be said for rising early to seek God. Jesus got up early while it was still dark to go out and pray (Mark 1:35), and that example alone should be good enough for us. Historically, monastic communities practiced the praying of Psalm 63 as the first prayer of the day. We all awaken with a sense of physical thirst and this should remind us of our fundamental spiritual thirst for God. With a cup of coffee in hand for my physical thirst and the biblical text before me, I found there was not a more satisfying way to start the day. Doing this day after day, month after month for over three years, it is a habit that I quite enjoy and eagerly anticipate, breathing in the stillness of the morning before the tasks of the day begin to overwhelm my senses. 

It changes the way you see the world. 

I can tend to be a news junkie, and over the last three years in particular that has not always been a healthy thing. A global pandemic, intense political polarization, widespread distrust of media and institutions, and a seismic reversal in fundamental beliefs about marriage, family, and gender -- these have been extremely unsettling times to say the least. One of the consistent messages throughout the Psalms is that God is sovereign over all. He reigns supreme and mankind’s futile attempts to resist his authority and redefine reality on their own terms are met with divine laughter (Psalm 2:1-6) and a promise that His Son will come down to make things right (Psalm 2:7-12). When the psalmist asks, “when the foundations are being torn down, what can the righteous do?”, he answers his own question in the following verse, saying “the LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD’s throne is in heaven; his eyes see, he examines the children of man” (Psalm 11:3,4). I’ve made Psalm 62:1-2 my daily prayer, “Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.” If you are being shaken by current events, spend ten minutes every day in the Psalms to regain a vision of ultimate reality, and then take your stand on what cannot be shaken.

Repetition is not a bad thing.

Modern worship songs are often unfairly criticized for their lyrical repetition. Maybe you’ve heard them described with the pejorative, “7-11 songs” (seven words sung eleven times). Any time I hear this complaint, I want to say, “Have you ever read the Psalms?” I spent two weeks in Psalm 136, reading “His faithful love endures forever” EVERY SINGLE DAY. Is it possible to be reminded of God’s steadfast love too often? I don’t think so, and apparently neither did the psalmist. I spent three months, the entire summer of 2022 in fact, reading Psalm 119 reflecting primarily on ONE thing: the Word of God in all of its inexhaustible wonder and beauty. How could we tire of being reminded that the Creator of the cosmos seeks a relationship with us, speaks to us in human language and visits us in the person of Jesus Christ, the Word of God (John 1:12)? The hallmark of Hebrew poetry is parallelism, two poetic lines that correspond to one another, creating a rhythm of ideas. Repetition is built into the very fabric of the Psalms, so don’t labor under the burden that you’ve got to come up with something new and profound to say to God every day. Just use the same words that Jesus and the saints of the ages used when praying to Him. It’s not that complicated. We repeat important things until they become automatic and unforgettable. Take the word “hallelujah” (praise the LORD) for example. It occurs 22 times in the Psalms, appearing for the first time in Psalm 104. (Incidentally, there are 22 letters in the Hebrew alphabet and this corresponds to the number of hallelujahs in the Psalms, suggesting completeness and totality, like from A-Z). Each of the last five psalms begins and ends with Hallelujah! Maybe we should say this Hebrew word so often throughout the day that it becomes a reflexive habit when we encounter the goodness and glory of God. Hallelujah!

There is something sweet to savor in every verse.

In all honesty, I have to admit that at times it was a slow and tedious process. For example, it can be exhausting to spend week after week lamenting and cursing with the psalmist. There are some dark and difficult psalms that have to be reckoned with, language that I couldn’t avoid on my way to the more palatable words of other psalms. I found that wrestling with hard passages was both humbling and fulfilling. Some of the most difficult psalms became favorites (Psalm 74 for example). Often I would be surprised with insights, things I had missed even after years of studying and teaching the Psalms. God was indeed opening my eyes to behold wonderful things in His law. One of the verses that connected deeply with me, perhaps because of the season of life that I was in at the time, was Psalm 81:16, “with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.” It spoke the truth to me that sometimes sweetness can be found in hard places. The psalm is a reflection on the wilderness wanderings of Israel, but easily serves as a metaphor for us in hard seasons of life. Even in the most painful of times, when God is with us, there is sweetness as well. Jesus is our Rock in the wilderness, and proof positive that God is with us in our suffering. In this three year journey through the Psalms, I was intently looking for Jesus in every verse, and over and over again I found Him. There was honey in the Rock, sweet and satisfying, compelling me to come back the next day from more.

When the foundations are being destroyed

An Axios-Ipsos poll this week found that 79% of people surveyed say that America is falling apart, a view shared by a fairly equal number of Democrats and Republicans. According to Mike Allen at Axios, this pessimism “reflects the collision of crises besetting the country – the backdrop of a pandemic, recession, decoupling of red/blue America, and racial injustice + the immediacy of the Capitol insurrection, followed by Impeachment II.”

This image of “America falling apart” reminded me of Psalm 11:3, where David wrote, “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?” In the midst of a pandemic, political polarization, economic uncertainty, and a raging culture war, sometimes I find myself among the 79% watching a great country crumble. The foundations of society – trust in one another, confidence in the future, and general agreement about fundamental moral truths – these are cracking beneath our feet. What can we do?

The Psalms help us here, and it’s remarkable how well they have aged. David lived in a time of political turmoil such as ours. His own son Absalom led a successful coup against him, driving David from his own capital and into fugitive status in the wilderness. Citizens were taking sides, truth was sacrificed in the pursuit of power, and a civil war was brewing. David wrote of that experience in Psalm 55.

9 Lord, confuse the wicked, confound their words,
    for I see violence and strife in the city.
10 Day and night they prowl about on its walls;
    malice and abuse are within it.
11 Destructive forces are at work in the city;
    threats and lies never leave its streets. (Psalm 55:9-11)

Sadly, those words could be written about our own capital these days. So, what can we do in the midst of political and social upheaval? David answers in the same psalm,

 Cast your burden on the Lord,
    and he will sustain you;
he will never permit
    the righteous to be moved. (Psalm 55:22)

Place your trust in the LORD and stand firmly on the solid ground of His reality. If the foundation of your life is the revealed truth of God, your footing is secure. Reality always wins.

But to answer David’s question, “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?”, I’d like to suggest four practical action steps.

1.     Decrease your media consumption. The role of the media is to inform, but they also have to make a profit doing it. Startling headlines, striking images, and shocking video – these are meant to “make you look” (and sell advertising). Everyone likes a little excitement, to feel like they are a part of a real Hollywood blockbuster, and the media is happy to oblige the fantasy with dramatic effect. Don’t bite the click bait, don’t feed your appetite for fear porn. We stopped watching the evening news sometime back in July, and our lives are better for it.

2.     Strengthen your own foundations. Honestly, there’s not much that you can do to change the broader culture in the short term, but you can influence your own culture now. The smallest and most powerful unit of culture is the family. The people you will influence the most are the ones you spend the most time with – your children, grandchildren, family and friends. Don’t squander precious time trying to influence strangers on the internet when precious loved ones in your life need to hear you speak truth and embody faith.

3.     Resist the urge to run. In the same psalm where David describes crumbling societal foundations he begins with a statement and a rhetorical question. “In the LORD I take refuge; how can you say to my soul, ‘Flee like a bird to your mountain?’”(11:3). It’s tempting in times like this to retreat to places of cultural isolation, embrace a fortress mentality, and avoid the reality of crumbling institutions. Instead of running away, David takes refuge in the truth of God, and declares to his trembling community, “the LORD is in his holy temple; the LORD’s throne is in heaven” (11:4). More than ever before, we must be bold in speaking truth in the public square. There is a God. He is good and just. His word is true.

4.     Remember that God is on the throne. When a person abandons faith in God, something else will always fill the vacuum. For many people these days, the god that has rushed into the void is the god of politics. Rather than seeking God’s eternal wisdom to fix things, we turn to government, believing falsely that there is a political solution to every problem. Christians should not be deceived by this so-called wisdom. When the problems are spiritual, political solutions alone will not work.

As the world moves beneath our feet, we stand firmly on the truth of God. Our neighbors need to see that we aren’t shaking. We aren’t afraid of a pandemic, of political upheaval, or even the possibility that America will fall apart all around us. We cast our burdens on the LORD who sustains us, and we will not be moved. We know this because God himself entered human history and laid a foundation upon which we stand.

For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone,
    a cornerstone chosen and precious,
and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” (I Peter 2:6)

Jesus is our sure foundation, the cornerstone on which the government of God rests. We who have fled to take hold of this hope offered to us are greatly encouraged.

Virtual Virtue

It’s never been easier to appear virtuous. With a few clicks I can prove my virtue by tweeting about the latest outrage or I can share a photo of myself wearing a mask. I can point out someone else’s racism or express my disgust at the lack of social distancing by partygoers. All of this makes me feel better about myself, reassuring me and others that I hold the correct views about things and I’m publicly committed to them.

Virtue signaling, the attempt to show that you are a good person by expressing disgust or favor for certain political ideas or cultural happenings, is much easier to come by than genuine virtue. Genuine virtue is a habit difficult to obtain because it requires real moral strength. The word is rooted in the Latin virus (man), and like manhood, is something that is attained by consistent acts of self-control, courage, and self-sacrifice.

Although the methods of signaling virtue have changed over the years, this kind of “virtual virtue” is nothing new. King David was quite virtuous – a creative artist who wrote worship music and led congregations in singing, a charismatic leader of men in battle, and an able administrator of an expanding kingdom. He was a man of humble upbringing whose life demonstrated that the poorest of society could make it to the top by doing what was right.

At some point in mid-life, the virtuous David was settling into palace life with his eighth wife, Bathsheba. (Backstory: Not being satisfied with seven wives, David had set his eyes on the wife of one of his officers. Having bedded her while her husband was off fighting the king’s battle and accidentally creating another human being in the act, David covered his tracks by arranging the long-distance murder of her husband. Once that loose end was tied up, David swooped in to rescue the grieving widow from poverty by making her his wife – oh the virtue!)

A year or so after all this happened, a man named Nathan knocked on the door and told David a story of a situation in his kingdom that was a genuine outrage, something extremely offensive and certain to arouse the moral sensibilities of the virtuous king. It seems there was a poor man who had one possession, a little lamb that was like a daughter to him. However, a wealthy man had taken the poor man’s lamb and slaughtered her to feed a guest. When Nathan asked David what should be done to this wealthy man, David tweeted: “That man deserves to die!” And everyone loved it and retweeted it.

Then Nathan replied: “You are that man.”

Perhaps the reason we are so quick to judge others and claim the moral high ground on everything from wearing masks to the latest racial incident is that we are hiding something ourselves, so we distract with “Nothing to see here”. If we had the vision of the prophet Nathan, we would see that we are a nation of adulterers and murderers. We tolerate the two great moral evils of our time – pornography (legalized prostitution) and abortion while declaring ourselves moral superiors to our ancestors who would have been appalled at both.

Our virtue signaling resembles that of the pious worshiper Jesus spoke of who prayed, “I thank you God that I am not like other people – cheaters, sinners, adulterers” when we ought be praying, “God have mercy on me, a sinner”. (Luke 18:11-13 NLT)

In the moment that David’s virtue signaling was called out by those four words of the prophet, he was utterly broken. What followed was a humble prayer of repentance.

Have mercy on me, O God,
    because of your unfailing love.
Because of your great compassion,
    blot out the stain of my sins.
Wash me clean from my guilt.
    Purify me from my sin.
For I recognize my rebellion;
    it haunts me day and night.
Against you, and you alone, have I sinned;
    I have done what is evil in your sight.
You will be proved right in what you say,
    and your judgment against me is just. (Psalm 51:1-4. NLT)

Real virtue begins with the acknowledgement that we are not virtuous. Our attempts to call others out for their lack of virtue is often a screen to hide our own infidelity. Rather than virtue signaling, we should be cultivating genuine virtue by exercising self-control and self-sacrifice that is nourished by drinking deeply of the grace of God, inoculating us from the pride and self-deception that inherently accompanies virtue signaling.

Blessed is the nation

Source: White House / D. Myles Cullen

A few months ago this photo of Vice President Mike Pence’s coronavirus taskforce praying in the White House drew a firestorm of criticism on social media and elsewhere. Last week government leaders and clergy met for the annual National Day of Prayer. In these days where the growth of secular progressivism feels as irresistible as the rising of the tide, the fact that our elected leaders pray together is a remarkable public acknowledgment by the government of the existence of a power greater than itself. While some may mock these moments as a waste of time or merely a crass political move by hypocritical politicians shamelessly pandering to a major voting bloc, truth is still truth no matter who says it, and prayer during a global pandemic certainly can’t hurt.

One of the truths that is often publicly acknowledged in moments of prayer like this is this statement from the 33rd Psalm, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD.” This verse occurs in the middle of a hymn of praise, a song that acknowledges the creative power of God’s word, his ever-dependable nature, and his irresistible sovereignty. The verses immediately preceding this promise of blessing highlight the inevitable advancement of the purposes of God throughout all of human history.

 8 Let all the earth fear the LORD;

    let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him!

9 For he spoke, and it came to be;

    he commanded, and it stood firm.

10 The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing;

    he frustrates the plans of the peoples.

11 The counsel of the LORD stands forever,

    the plans of his heart to all generations.

12 Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD,

    the people whom he has chosen as his heritage! (Psalm 33:8-12)

Having summoned the inhabitants of the world to stand in awe of the LORD, the psalmist observes that mankind has its own plans in mind, and these often do not include an acknowledgment of God. The first nation-state recorded in scripture, Babel, demonstrated that it is the tendency of humans to collectively resist the rule of God, wanting to make themselves the arbiters of truth. Believing that working together they could do away with the need for a higher power, many nations since have actively turned away from God’s laws and designs for the human race to pursue their own utopian visions.

However, verse 10 tells us that the LORD is sovereign “who brings the wisdom of the nations to nothing and frustrates the plans of the peoples.” It’s not as if God is actively frustrating global leaders as some kind of divine spoiler. It’s simply that the working out of plans that are contrary to nature and nature’s God are going to be counterproductive. A nation that does not value life or care for its members as equals in the sight of God is going to eat its own. A society that values individual autonomy over the family will suffer from loneliness and all the ills that accompany fractured families. A culture that subsumes the individual to the needs of the collective will come to see its citizens as mere cogs in a machine that are malleable, expendable, and soulless. God is not throwing a wrench in the works of the nations. Rather, the nations are sowing the seeds of their own destruction by the lies that they believe about the nature of human beings and the nature of this world.

History is filled with examples of nations and leaders who thought they would take the place of God and bring about heaven on earth. And while those utopian visions were never realized for the masses who desperately wanted to believe in them, their leaders had their own little short-lived utopia, gorging on the flesh of those under their boots. The LORD is sovereign over the affairs of the nations, and a nation that works against the purposes of God will find itself frustrated at every turn. Their grand schemes will come to nothing. All the great nations and empires of the world have turned to dust while God’s reign through his church endures, fulfilling the promise of Isaiah, “and of the increase of God’s government and peace there will be no end” (Isaiah 9:7).

In contrast to the frustration of the nations which reject the fundamental realities of the moral universe and human nature, the nation which follows the lead of God is blessed. The reason for this is simply that the wisdom of the LORD is eternal and true, it corresponds to reality. In addition, God is completely sovereign, in that his will, his desires, and his purposes will be done without exception. This is the prayer the LORD Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Not only is God absolutely real and true, but he is solidly in control of all things.

So know that this principle is still true today even when what is happening in the world might seem to imply the absence of God’s presence and sovereignty. “The plans of his heart endure to all generations,” and they will be accomplished. You and I are blessed when we align ourselves with those purposes, and so is any group of people or nation who chooses to follow His lead.

Walking Through a Psalm of Resurrection

My good friend Daniel McCoy, editor at Renew.org, posted this short article I wrote on Psalm 30 where David’s resurrection experience gives us a taste of Easter hope. Check out the article and all of the great resources on their website.

Walking Through a Psalm of Resurrection

Good Shepherd Carry Us

Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!

    Be their shepherd and carry them forever. (Psalm 28:9) 

Back when my sons were small, one of my favorite things to do was to lift them up and place them on my shoulders. I’m pretty sure they enjoyed it as much as I did. Sometimes I did this because they were tired and lagging behind as we were walking, slowing us all down and testing my patience. Usually at that point, the youngest of them would lift up his arms toward me and persuasively ask to be carried. I would lift him up and carry him so we could pick up the pace. It was practically effortless for me to bear his weight on my body in this way. Other times I simply wanted my kids to see what I was seeing, to give them a broader view. They didn’t know what they were missing, and I sympathized with their frustration at seeing everything at knee-level. So there were times when I lifted them above the crowd for a better view. Lifting my children up even became a part of our bedtime routine. When bedtime rolled around each evening, I remember scooping Ethan up and placing him on my shoulders, walking through the house to his bedroom where I swiftly deposited him on his bed accompanied with laughter and giggles. It was a sign to begin slowing down to embrace the rest that was soon coming.

Lifting and carrying my children was practically effortless in those days, and it was something I delighted to do. I think that is probably the same way our heavenly Father feels toward us. In the 23rd Psalm, the LORD as our shepherd leads and guides us as his sheep. He gives us rest, security, refreshment, leadership, and his presence even in the darkest places. But a few psalms later (Psalm 28:9) the actions of the shepherd become even more intimate and personal. David prays that the LORD would be the shepherd of his people and carry them forever. Just like a father with his children, I think this is something that the LORD delights to do and is of course quite easy for Him provided we are not wrestling to get away. When we surrender to his strong arms and trust him completely we rise to a place of safety, rest, and vision.

As we face this unprecedented season of life, fraught with anxiety about what we cannot know, may we like little children place our trust in the loving arms of our Shepherd who carries us when we are weary, lifts us up to see the world from his perspective, and takes us to a place of rest each evening. Good Shepherd Jesus, lift me on your shoulders today so that I might rest in your strength and see the world as you do. 

It can't possibly get worse.

There’s an old Jewish joke that goes like this:

What’s the difference between a pessimist and an optimist?

The pessimist says, “It can’t possibly get any worse than this.”

The optimist says, “Of course it can!”

As an incurable optimist, I’ve thought about that joke quite a bit over the last week. Just a week ago the WHO declared coronavirus a global pandemic, and at that time I could never have imagined how different our lives would be just one week later. I’ve maintained that optimistic outlook precisely because I see it repeatedly in the psalms. Choose just about any psalm of lament and you’ll find David complaining and expressing his frustration with God, but by the time you reach the end he is confident and optimistic that everything will work out.

So while there is much to lament these days when just about everything I love has been cancelled, I am trying to follow the example of David when he declared, “I will bless the LORD at all times. His praise will continually be on my lips.” (Psalm 34:1)

In the spirit of that verse, I made of list of some of the positives things that may come out of this global pandemic, things for which we can all be thankful:

• We’ll spend more time with our families, the most important people in our lives. There will be time to slow down and do the things that we didn’t think we had time for. For me that means two words: board games!

• We’ll be forced to slow our pace of life a bit and that can give us the opportunity to go deeper in our faith — a forced but much needed Sabbath in our hurried culture.

• We’ll gain greater appreciation of others and more eagerly desire the presence of our friends and faith community. Online church was great last Sunday, but it’s going to make the day when we can worship together again in one place all the more sweet.

• There will (hopefully) be less obsession with politics and the presidential election as if it were the most important thing in the world, and instead we’ll hear stories of sacrifice, goodness, and faith changing the world for the better.

• We’ll clean out our closets and get some of those things done that we’ve been putting off for years. That will feel good.

• Instead of consuming endless hours of entertainment, we’ll become creators again, like when we were little kids. We’ll write songs and stories. We’ll make things of beauty and value and blessing to others. We’ll rediscover the joy of creativity and no longer be satisfied with merely being consumers of the creativity of others.

• In the future, we’ll all take Dave Ramsey’s baby steps more seriously and make sure that we have an emergency fund of three to six month’s salary. That includes businesses and churches.

• People will develop better habits of personal hygiene (OK, I said I was an optimist).

 I’m just getting started. Now it’s your turn.

A Prayer Before a Pandemic

In Fiddler on the Roof, Motel the tailor purchases a used sewing machine and it is a cause for celebration as the town gathers to admire the new arrival. Motel asks the aged rabbi, “Is there a blessing for a sewing machine?”  The rabbi replies, “There is a blessing for everything.”

Indeed. There is a blessing for everything, and I would add, there is a psalm for everything.   

Take the biggest news story of the last few weeks – the spread of the coronavirus. As of this writing no one knows for sure whether this will be a “once a century” global pandemic like the Spanish Flu or something less dramatic, but it is already creating major disruptions: entire nations closed to travel, events cancelled and rescheduled, and governments scrambling to calm fears and mitigate its spread. Here in the US, citizens are emptying shelves of everything from soup to toilet paper. Community, business, and education leaders are drawing up contingency plans and a volatile stock market has everyone on edge.  

In light of this, how should we pray, and how should our praying form our attitudes and actions? My first thought was to turn to Psalm 91 where the writer declares,

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of Yahweh, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” (91:1,2)

 The psalmist goes on to describe quite specifically the things that Yahweh will protect us from, including:

the fowler’s snare

the deadly pestilence

the terror of night

the arrow that flies by day

the pestilence that stalks in the darkness

the plague that destroys at midday

Some commentators have suggested that this psalm was a prayer of soldiers before battle – a  thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you…No harm will overtake you. No disaster will come near your tent (91:7,10) – designed to inspire courage to run into the fray.

Pestilence and plague were cause for very real fear in the ancient world. Lack of medical knowledge and basic care ensured that infections spread and devastated populations in ways unimaginable today. Two pandemics in the Roman Empire (165 and 251 AD) killed up to a third of the population each time. In his book The Rise of Christianity, sociologist Rodney Stark notes that during these plagues, Christians did not flee the cities as the pagans did, but rather stayed and cared for the sick. Their close-knit Christian communities enabled them to support one another while their theology of redemptive suffering and their belief in eternal life gave them hope to deal with crushing loss. The result was even more conversions to the faith as the pagan population saw how they handled the crisis.

I suspect that those early Christians were familiar with the 91st psalm and prayed it often as they tended to the sick and dying, confident that whether they lived or died, they would always be in God’s protective presence.

Remarkably, Elizabeth Elliot titled her book about the life of her husband Jim Elliot, Shadow of the Almighty, based on this psalm. Elliot and four other men were slain with spears and arrows while taking the gospel to an unreached tribe. They were convinced that God’s promised protection in this psalm was not from suffering and death, but from ultimate and final defeat. In fact, the psalm contains this promise as well, “You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.” (91:13) Jesus echoed this truth when he told his disciples, “I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. (Luke 10:19).

Knowing that Jesus has crushed the head of the Serpent and stomped on the Lion should inspire us to live without fear of death and run into the fray with words of hope and acts of compassion during these days of fear of uncertainty. Just as this psalm was a prayer before battle, may it be our prayer for courage as we face uncertain days ahead. Rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  

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March Forth!

Lift up your heads, O gates! And lift them up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.

Who is this King of glory? The LORD, strong and mighty, the LORD, mighty in battle!

Lift up your heads, O gates! And lift them up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.

Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory!

One of my professors was happy to announce that his birthday was the only date that was a command — “March 4th”. Because of that I’ll never forget Lynn Gardner’s birthday! As I was reading Psalm 24 this morning, March 4th, and I saw David’s liturgy for the entrance of the King in a new light. David wrote the psalm as a processional song on the occasion of the Ark of the Covenant being brought up from the field to the city, Jerusalem, the nation’s new capital. The Ark of the Covenant was thought of as the very throne of God on earth, and David rightly wanted to place that throne on the hill above the city to signify that Yahweh was not only the King of Israel but the one Sovereign over the earth and its inhabitants (verse 1). As the Ark approached the city, borne on the shoulders of the priests, the worship leader cried out, “Lift up your heads, O gates! Lift them up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” The gates of the city were flung open and the procession of thousands of worshipers entered the city. Again the worship leader cried out, “Who is this King of glory?” And the congregation answered in one loud voice, “The LORD, strong and mighty, the LORD, mighty in battle.”

This is the language of a military parade as the King entered the city having triumphed over the nation’s enemies in battle. David had no doubt been a participant in some of those parades in the past, perhaps lifting high the trophy head of Goliath before the cheering crowd. The Ark itself was often carried into battle before the army as a talisman of the LORD’s presence and power as commander of the angel armies. In fact, the liturgy continues as the worship leader shouts, “Who is this King of glory?” and the crowd responds, “the LORD of hosts, he is the king of glory!” The LORD of hosts, LORD Sabbaoth, the commander of the angel armies. One angel can do a lot of damage (remember the angel of death in Egypt?). Imagine an army of angels. This is the type of overwhelming power that the LORD commands.

That overwhelming power was never on display more convincingly than when Jesus crushed the head the Adversary in one weekend on that very hill nearly one thousand years after David’s victory celebration. Jesus is the great commander who defeated the two ancient enemies of mankind -- sin and death. This same Jesus leads us in triumphal procession (2 Corinthians 2:4) having disarmed the rulers and authorities, putting them to open shame by triumphing over them (Colossians 2:15). This is the picture of Jesus that is often lost on our culture who prefers to see him as just a moral teacher with a child on his lap, a teacher that we might respect like Ghandi but who does not command our obedience. David’s triumphant procession commemorated in the 24th psalm is a prophetic snapshot of the victory parade that we share with Jesus today and every day. Live today in the awareness of the mighty power and overwhelming victory of God. No matter what comes your way, nothing can change this truth. Jesus has defeated sin and death and you march with him in victory. March forth!

Justice for the Fatherless

A few weeks ago in class we were discussing Psalm 9-10. This is actually one psalm in the Hebrew and it is based on the Hebrew alphabet -- each verse beginning with a successive letter. I asked my students to write an acrostic about the justice of God. I wrote one as well.

After the most recent school shooting in Parkland, FL where again another fatherless shooter brought havoc and horror, I was reminded of the importance of fathers. God is father to the fatherless. This is good news in a culture where the sexual revolution has steadily eroded the foundations of the family and made fatherlessness rampant. I wrote this prayer in the weeks before the shooting, but it seemed appropriate to share it now. This is a prayer for justice for the fatherless, innocent casualties of the sexual revolution. It's also a call for the church to unashamedly preach the truth about marriage and family -- this is part of what it means to preach the gospel, the good news to the poor. Marriage should be honored by all and the marriage bed kept pure for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral. (Hebrews 13:4)

Answer me when I call, O LORD

Bring relief to the poor and oppressed

Consider my prayer and my pain

Don't abandon me or turn away your ear

Everywhere I look I see brokenness

Families are severed by divorce

Generations of broken homes pass down a legacy of loneliness

How many children grow up without knowing father or mother?

In your mercy, hear their cry and be their Father

Jesus welcomes the children in his arms

Keeping them in his care and love

Let wholeness and healing come to the family

May marriage be honored by all

No one should grow up without knowing God

O LORD, equip your servants to share good news

Place your hand of protection on the innocent

Quickly come to their aid

Rise to bring justice to those that have been wronged

Safety and security are found in God

Trust in the LORD for He is our stronghold

Understand the He is just

Violent men will have violence done to them

When will justice come?

Exactly when, no one knows

Yet I will trust in Him

Zero-tolerance for sin, this is our holy God.

Hyperbole has become reality

In the second Psalm, the son of the king is promised "the nations as your inheritance, the ends of the earth as your possession."  It seems a lofty promise coming from a guy who was king of a relatively small piece of land.  (Israel in the late 10th century BC at its greatest extent would have stretched about as far as it is from my house to St. Louis).  The promise seems ridiculous actually, and so we say that in poetic terms, it was hyperbole, exaggeration for the sake of emphasis.

Yet, here we are over 3,000 years later, and Jesus (the son of David, the one who is greater than Solomon) reigns in every corner of the globe. Distant shores and the islands rejoice at his presence in their midst. He reigns through his church, his citizens who have sworn allegiance to him above all others.  He reigns because men and women have courageously taken the good news of Jesus to the darkest corners of the globe. Thanks to the faithful service of missionaries and the prayers of those sending them, hyperbole has become reality.  Through sacrifice great and small, advancing by acts of kindness and mercy, accompanied with the bold proclamation of the truth that sets men free, "the kingdom of this world, is become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ." (Handel's Messiah)

Lead on, O King eternal

till sin's fierce war shall cease

and holiness shall whisper

the sweet amen of peace.

For not with swords loud clashing,

nor roll of stirring drums

with deeds of love and mercy

the heavenly kingdom comes. 

A Hagah Aha

Today while teaching I had one of those "aha" moments. I don't know how many times I've read, quoted, or sung the first Psalm, but as I was thinking about the word "meditate" in verse 2, for the first time it dawned on me that "meditation" is a very physical activity. The Hebrew word hagah literally means "to murmur" or to "mumble".  It is used elsewhere of animals making noises (doves cooing and lions growling) and of the people grumbling and conspiring -- all of which are very physical, audible activities. Meditation isn't simply thinking deeply about something. It is actively speaking it, and in the process of speaking it, the thinking about it occurs.

Over the holiday break I was listening to Handel's Messiah, and the lyric led me to Isaiah 40. I memorized the entire chapter over the course of a couple days, and in those moments when no one was around, while I was driving, or waiting for my son to get out of school, I simply recited it. And the act of reciting the text aloud caused to me to think about the passage in all kinds of ways.  Questions came to mind.  Connections to other texts were made.  The beauty of the poetry captivated me. I gained deeper appreciation for the humility, supremacy, and wisdom of God as I lingered on the images in the text -- a tender voice, a highway for our God, a shepherd carrying his lamb close to his heart, marking off the heavens with the breadth of a hand.  As I spoke the text I was struck by the beauty, wonder, and the glory of the Lord. I worshiped. And it all began with hagah.