The Mainline Minister

This psalm begins with a declaration of intent: its author pledges to sing forever a song proclaiming God's faithfulness.  He then proceeds to offer a sample of what he has in mind.  Read his words, and be impressed, not just by the psalmist's creative prowess but by the sheer joy and enthusiasm his song exude.  This is just what we need to be reading during Lent. Lent is not often associated with "joy" and "enthusiasm."  There are no upbeat Lenten hymns, nothing you'd want to hear played by a marching band.  Yet "joy" and "enthusiasm" are exactly what the season calls for as we engage in the serious business of reflection, repentance, and renewal -- for the One to whom turn is faithful, steadfast, ready to give us another chance.  The Creator of the Universe wants you, wants me, to get things right.  Think about that.  It's sobering.  But it's also exciting and a cause for celebration. What we do during Lent coun...

Read this beloved psalm carefully and you'll notice that a small but significant shift takes place: Verses 1 through 3 refer to God as "he" - the third person is used.  But in verses 4 and 5, God becomes "thou" - the second person.  What does this mean?  For the psalmist, we see his confidence in God made manifest.  When things get tough, when disaster looms, he doesn't offer a theological assertion, "The Lord will be with you."  Instead, he states what to him is the obvious, "You are with me."  For the psalmist, God is an ever-present benefactor, source of strength, companion. The good news this day is that God is also a companion for us and we still have three more weeks of Lent to figure out what we've been doing and not doing to create distance between ourselves and the Lord and to then make changes.  Think about it, pray about it.  And remember: it's personal. Psalm 23 1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want...

In this psalm we encounter one of the most familiar observations in Scripture: "The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty."  That's it - seven, maybe eight, decades and then we're gone, turned back to dust.  God will "sweep us away like a dream; we fade away suddenly like the grass."  Sobering, no?  Still, against the the melancholy ruminations of this psalm is the amazing declaration at its start: "Lord, you have been our refuge."  The One who has fashioned the universe, who is the author of time itself, pays attention to, cares about, indeed loves us - us! - mortal though we be.  If this doesn't make us want to be in right relationship with God, what will?  If this doesn't make us want to make the most of the Lenten season, what will?  Time's fleeting; God's love is not.  Let's not waste the former when the latter is on offer. Psalm 90 Lord, you have been our refuge * from one genera...

The psalmist and his contemporaries believed that this life was it.  The notion of a full-fledged afterlife didn't take hold in the Jewish world until fairly late in the Biblical day.  While one might continue as a shade, the idea of an ongoing existence with one's defined personality intact wasn't part of the mental or spiritual landscape.  So, death really was final and therefore the premium on making the most of this life was exceedingly high. We can't say what comes after this life; we can only confess a belief.  But whether one believes that the days we have on this earth are but a prelude to something else or the only turn on the merry-go-round that we'll enjoy, there's something to be said about living this life as if it's all we've got. But if this is true, then what should we do with our time?  During Lent, as we reflect on our sins and the possibilities for growth and change and repentance,  we can contemplate this question, pray ...

My first thought on reading today's NRSV translation of psalm 42 is that it's a hart, not a deer, that longs for the water-brooks.  The change from hart (used in both the KJV and the RSV) was one of choice; it's not necessarily more accurate (The Jewish Publication Society opts for hind; the NIV translators use deer).  Messing with a perfectly good translation, one rooted in tradition and immediately recognizable to many of the faithful strikes me as gratuitous.  But, then, so too is my high dudgeon. Yes, tradition and poetry are good and estimable.  But what really matters is what the psalmist is communicating: a deep longing for God, a longing that is akin to a thirst that begs to be quenched.  You know the feeling of being parched on a hot summer's day?  Of really, really wanting a cool glass of ice water or lemonade?  Of imagining the taste, of envisioning the beads of condensation on the glass?  Of seeing the ice cubes bobbing...

There are times during Lent when I resent the small disciplines I've adopted.  I really, really want a cup of coffee (and given that I drink decaf, this is admittedly pathetic).  I really, really don't want to write a reflection.  Maybe I can take a break, skip a day, I muse.  But I know that if I drop the ball, I'm going to experience an acute disappointment.  That's not because I'm particularly holy, but because I know in my gut that these Lenten disciplines aren't shackles, but opportunities for spiritual growth and reflection.  This perspective is what shapes the psalmist's paean to the law, the Torah.  Those statutes and commandments, so often misunderstood by the Pharisaical,  derided by misguided Christians over the years, were never intended to hem in God's people but to help them live fully in God's kingdom. Lent is a time for us to reflect upon and reevaluate how we understand the demands and traditions of our faith.  ...

Who are God's chosen people? According to the psalmist, everyone.  That doesn't mean that Zion - Israel -has been displaced, that they have been set aside or replaced.  Instead, God's promise is being shared with all creation.  All too often, people think in terms of zero sum games - if you benefit, I must lose.  But that's not the way God operates.  In God's economy, everyone will win - for the bounty of blessings of God are without limit, freely available, generously intended for all. During Lent, we have the chance to consider how we feel about the promise of Psalm 87.  Does it gladden us or threaten us?  Perhaps a bit of both?  In the coming days, let's reflect on our feelings, pray upon them, and then act to do what is necessary to make sure we are right with God and God's people - wherever they are, whoever they may be. 1 On the holy mountain stands the city God has founded; * the LORD loves the gates of Zion more than all th...

It's easy to pray to God when everything's just ducky.  But how about when it's all falling apart?  It's at those moments we can feel that God is most distant.  Yet it's at those times that we most need to reach out, to act on the assumption, the belief, the conviction, that God is close by. That's what the psalmist did in the wake of catastrophe.  Israel has been overwhelmed by her enemies.  Some claimed that was a sign of God's abrogation of his covenant with his people.  The psalmist rejected that idea.  Instead, he lifted up the plight of Israel to God, called upon him to deliver her and, in doing so, revitalize the bond between the shepherd and his flock. Offering prayers like this can be difficult, but it can also be affirming and empowering.  During Lent we can reflect on our prayer lives and how they might be enriched, how we might venture into new spiritual territory, and how we might challenge ourselves to reach out to God....

Trust me.  Why is it that whenever someone says those words an immediate instinct is to do just the opposite?  Perhaps because we've been burned by too many politicians, used car salesmen, cheating boyfriends or girlfriends, duplicitous colleagues, the list goes on. This psalm reminds us that there is one we can, indeed should trust, one who is beneficent, loving, gracious.  One who is patient.  One who has been let down in the past but is willing to give his people another try.  One who fashioned us, holds us, nurtures us. Trust me, says God. This Lent, let's give it a try. 95:1 O come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation! 95:2 Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise! 95:3 For the LORD is a great God, and a great King above all gods. 95:4 In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also. 95:5 The sea is ...

A question to ponder on a Saturday afternoon: when's the last time, outside of Sunday worship, you said "thanks" to God?  What did you thank God for?  Was your thanks expressed haltingly or with exuberance?  Did you want to do a little dance or did you feel awkward?  Finally, why did you thank God?  Was it because you felt obligated or because you wanted to?  The answers to these questions will tell you something about your relationship with God and how, during this season of Lent, with prayer and introspection, you might enrich this most important of connections -- and in doing so, find yourself with another reason to thank God. We give you thanks, O God, we give you thanks, * calling upon your Name and declaring all your wonderful deeds. “I will appoint a time,” says God; * “I will judge with equity. Though the earth and all its inhabitants are quaking, * I will make its pillars fast. I will say to the boasters, ‘Boast no more,’ * and to th...

At times of trouble, in moments of crisis, we can feel alone, as if we've been abandoned, like nobody can even comprehend what we're experiencing.  Psalm 69 offers a reminder that this is not the case.  God, the psalmist asserts, can be turned to, even, no especially, during the midst of the worst that life has to send our way.  This isn't an abstract claim, airily made.  Instead, this text makes clear that this belief arose in the midst of profound, personal suffering. Further, not only will God be present for us; God, Christians confesses, knows our pain, our loss.  Read verse 23 and the Passion comes to mind: the image of a thirsting Jesus on the cross, offered vinegar to drink by the soldiers, looms large. This is the God with whom we seek to make things right during Lent.  Not some remote deity, but One who has taken on our form, lived life as one of us, who knows what we know, feels what we feel, who seeks neither gold nor power, but a r...

The psalmist refers to himself as "old and gray-headed."  Looking back at his life, he sees God's presence with him beginning in the womb and never faltering.  The one who wrote 71 was introspective, thoughtful - and forward looking.  Though this psalm is offered during the twilight hours of life, the psalmist looks ahead, praying to maintain his relationship with his Creator and to continue to offer him praise.  He knows he will face new adversity in life and petitions God to continue to provide him with support and strength.  Here, we see faith that has lasted a lifetime and sustained a life.  Do we have this kind of faith?  Lent is a good time to consider the question, to think about what might be keeping us from enjoying the kind of relationship with God that was known by the psalmist, and to then make amends so that we too may draw closer to the God who sustains us and saves us. 1  In you, O LORD, have I taken refuge; * let me ...

According to the psalmist, David vowed that finding a place for God took precedence over establishing one for himself.  David, of course, never did get to build a temple; that work was left to Solomon, a result of David's transgressions.  Still, in this case, the intent counts and counts for a lot, for it still created a framework within which David could shape his life.  During Lent, we are called to reflect upon our priorities.  What takes precedence for us?  God or something, someone else?  Will we, like David, continue to keep God front and center even when we stumble, even when we suspect all of our dreams won't come true?  Or will we falter, seeing God as not a priority but a passing fancy?  David persevered, offering an example of the faith of a flawed king, imperfect person - in short, someone like ourselves.  Take heart, then, and find a new place for God. Psalm 132 1  LORD, remember David, * and all the hardships ...

The psalmist writes that he waits for God and God alone.  What do you wait for?  What am I waiting for?  Lent is a good time for us to ponder this question. Is God our rock and our salvation - or have we placed our hope elsewhere: a politician, an ideology, the Red Sox, or possibly winning tonight's $400,000,000 jackpot?  Lent is a good time for us to ponder this question. Do we put our trust in God?  Or do we rely on the market, politicians, celebrities to show us the way?  Lent is a good time for us to ponder this question. What Are You Waiting For?  Don't answer quickly or rashly.  Reflect on, pray over your answer.  Then, make amends as needed.  That's what Lent is for, after all! Psalm 62 1  For God alone my soul in silence waits; * from God comes my salvation. 2  God alone is my rock and my salvation, * my stronghold, so that I shall not be greatly shaken. 3  How long will you assail me to crush me, ...

We are told that the young Patrick was kidnapped from his home in Britain and brought to Ireland where he was sold into slavery.  In time he escaped and made his way home.  Then, called by God, he returned to the land where he had lived in captivity to share the Good News.  Today, a lot of people, Irish and not, are going to hoist more than a few pints, ostensibly in the saint's honor.  A better way to salute this great figure of the early church, this man who embodied forgiveness and courage, faith and fortitude, is to reflect on what God in Christ meant to him that he could move back to the land and people where and among whom he had suffered so.  Psalm 56 gives a sense of the strength that one may draw from God when facing adversaries, just as the Gospels give us a hope of how adversaries may be turned to friends in Christ. This day, let's offer a prayer in honor of, not a toast to, St Patrick, giving thanks for the example he sets for us to thi...

This is a wonderful, familiar, beloved psalm.  The language is beautiful, the poetry, in any language, exquisite.  The confidence expressed is inspiring and empowering.  Which brings us to our snap quiz: do you believe this?  Really, really believe this? Read the psalm, read it again.  Consider the assertions made by the psalmist.  The God he talks about is truly awesome, possessing a power that is both reassuring and mind boggling.  Are you prepared to confess your sins to this God?  Am I? If we answer the quiz in the affirmative, if we truly agree with what the psalmist says about God, then we'd better prepare ourselves for a pretty wild ride -- for we've hitched our wagons to a  God who is reliable but also powerful, loving but also magnificent, caring but also cosmic.  A God from whom we can't hide our fears, our worries, our failings.  A God who is all in for us -- and who asks us to be all in for him. A Song of A...

Reflecting on what we've done that we should not have done and what we have not done that we should have done can be a sobering experience.  As we confront our spiritual shortcomings, we can wonder about our relationship with God, even ask why would God want to care about a sinner.  The answer, of course, is that God cares about us sinners because we are his people, no matter what.  So engage in reflection, contemplate what you'd like to change, recognize what you've done wrong that needs to be made right -- and do so knowing that you are always, always, always held by your Maker. A Psalm of thanksgiving. 1 Make a joyful noise to the Lord , all the earth. 2    Worship the Lord with gladness;    come into his presence with singing. 3 Know that the Lord is God.    It is he that made us, and we are his;    we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving,  ...

This psalm, with its cry for assistance, is notable for both the confidence it reflects in God's power and in the intimate nature of the relationship its author has with his (or her) maker.  A remarkable thing that: the one who created the universe is described as a helper.  And the use of the adjective here isn't an instance of hubris on the part of the psalmist, one of those instances when a mortal believes the deity can be manipulated through the use of incantations and sacrificial bribes, but instead is one rooted in a deep, personal relationship.  God is a companion, someone close by who can be trusted, relied upon.  God is indeed a helper. During this Lenten season, as we reflect on our lives of faith, we can consider how we, created in God's image, can better emulate the one who made us.  And so, with a nod to Psalm 54, we can ask: ow can we be better, more faithful helpers? 1 Save me, O God, by your Name; * in your might, defend my cause....

The notion that there is just one God, period, took a long time to take hold.  For much of Israel's history, people believed that there were other gods but that they weren't worthy of worship or loyalty.  Those were due only to the God of Israel, the One who had delivered slaves from Egypt to freedom and established a covenant with those he claimed as his own.  It took time for what we know as monotheism to truly and irrevocably establish itself as the norm.  The older worldview offers interesting perspectives, though.  Here we see how Israel's god is different from others.  He doesn't need sacrifices.  He wants justice.  He doesn't need attention.  He seeks mercy. Today, we profess that there is one God.  But our society offers up so many things that clamor for, and often succeed in garnering, our attention, affections, and devotion.  There are many names for these things, movements, ideas and people, but all can be p...

The psalmist sings of the strength, the support, the comfort he derives from God's law, the Torah.  For much of Christian history, what we call the Old Testament has been caricatured by many in the church as a statutory straitjacket for the spiritually narrow-minded; Jesus came to replace this prison with new life.  But Jesus never made such a claim.  He said he had come to fulfill, not replace, the law.  The kind of fulfillment he had in mind is given voice by the psalmist.  God's law, the Torah, and for us in this day and age, the Christian faith and church, are meant to give life.  They aren't meant to hem us in but to help us live fully as children of God.  This knowledge is especially valuable in times of trouble; at those moments, when all seems lost, a life with God offers a support that can never, ever be taken away.  Talk about a great comfort! Talk about a source of strength!  Talk about a life-giving, life-affirming b...

One of the ongoing conflicts in the history of Israel was that between prophets and kings.  All too often, the leaders of both kingdoms sought to emulate rulers in neighboring lands.  They'd argue that God had made his covenant with the monarch, who would then be the deity's representative on earth.  The prophets argued otherwise: the covenant was with all of God's people.  This tension was especially notable in the emergence of theology surrounding the special role of the House of David.  If Scripture is our guide, David was indeed God's annointed.  But it's also clear that being chosen doesn't include receipt of a free pass to do as one pleases, nor to think that one or one's heirs are the ultimate authority.  That role is God's, and God's alone. Today's psalm was written by someone highly sympathetic to the king.  It's fulsome.  It's rhapsodic.  In many ways, it's over the top -- and should be read with a grain salt i...

We've all heard the old adage, "God helps those who help themselves."  These familiar words are mistakenly attributed to Scripture.  What the Bible, particularly Psalm 41, tells us is more interesting: God helps those who help someone else, particularly those in need.  There's nothing in here about self-reliance.  Nor is there any suggestion that God helps those who pray to him, offer sacrifices, memorize holy texts.  No, what gets God's attention is how much attention we pay to those without.  Addressing material want isn't a matter of charity; it's a core spiritual discipline, central to the life of faith.  Lent, a time of reflection and reorientation, is an excellent time for all of us to ask what we're doing to consider those among us who are most in need - and to then take action. 1 Happy are they who consider the poor and needy! the LORD will deliver them in the time of trouble. 2 The LORD preserves them and keeps them alive,...

On this first Sunday of Lent, we're reminded by the psalm of the day that God wants us to make things right with him and the world.  Indeed, God not only wants this, God longs for this.  But to do so, we need to be honest.  With God, and with ourselves.  Penitence, which involves reflection, acknowledgment, and action, isn't always easy.  It's not meant to be.  But it can change our lives.  Read David's words, think about the joy, the relief, the peace he expresses.  And then know that these are all available to you and me.  All we need to do is be honest. Of David. A Maskil. 1 Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven,    whose sin is covered. 2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity,    and in whose spirit there is no deceit. 3 While I kept silence, my body wasted away    through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;  ...

There's a gentle intimacy to this psalm that speaks to me at the end of a long day.  I'm not feeling the distress that seemed to afflict the psalmist, but I'm tired.  This "maskil" offers welcome encouragement.  Read it, sit with it.  Let the words flow over you like waters of a stream.  Be refreshed.  Hope. To the leader. A Maskil of the Korahites. 1 As a deer longs for flowing streams,    so my soul longs for you, O God. 2 My soul thirsts for God,    for the living God. When shall I come and behold    the face of God? 3 My tears have been my food    day and night, while people say to me continually,    ‘Where is your God?’ 4 These things I remember,    as I pour out my soul: how I went with the throng,    and led them in procession to the house of God, with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving,    a multitude keeping fes...

We're often told, and with good reason, that life is complex, that things can't be boiled down to black and white.  But sometimes we can be too clever for our own good, looking for ambiguities, reveling in shades of gray, when the choice before us is stark: be wicked, be righteous.  Black and white.  It's that simple. Of course, actually being righteous and actually resisting wickedness can be a lot harder than we'd like.  It takes work.  We're bound to mess up, make mistakes, get frustrated, stumble down blind alleys, grow disappointed or discouraged.  But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.  And try and try and try.  Lent is a time for us to consider how we can stop traveling the path of sinners and turn our attention to delighting in the law of the Lord. Hard work?  Yes.  But also an easy choice, clear as the difference between black and white Psalm 1 1 Happy are those    who do not follow the advice of the ...

Psalm 37.1-19 Don't fret.  Trust.  Delight. Commit. Be still.  Refrain. These are the actions to which the psalmist calls us.  They are not those of the one who takes charge, who expects to be in control.  Rather they are the marks of one is who prepared to place his or her faith in another, to see that spiritual strength comes not from going it alone, trying to bull one's way through, to do things by oneself.  The psalmist, purportedly David, advises us that the way to God is through relinquishing our belief in our ability to control the world around us.  If the great king David, that successful builder of an empire, that incomparable leader of men, can let go, surely we can, too. Letting go is just one of the things we are called to do during Lent.  By giving up our sense that we're in charge, we begin to make space for God's kingdom to enter into our lives.  And when that happens, we will see things in a new light, and b...

The axis around this psalm revolves is the desire for a "new and right spirit," one its author recognized is created by God.  As we begin our Lenten journey we would do well to contemplate and pray upon the words of the psalmist.  The point of the forty days and forty nights isn't to punish ourselves nor to foster guilt.  This is not a season for spiritual masochism.  No, it's a time to step back, to assess our situation, to chart a new course, to commit to a renewed relationship with God and God's community and to trust in the One who came to us in Jesus to lead us to where we need to be. Psalm 51 To the leader. A Psalm of David, when the prophet Nathan came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba. 1 Have mercy on me, O God,    according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy    blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,    and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I k...