Saturday, February 25, 2017

"Hey, Soul!"

"My soul is silent before God" (62:1).
"My soul, be silent before God" (62:5).

The verses are similar, but different. In the first verse David says something about his soul; in the second he says something to his soul. The phrase, "is silent" addresses a decision, a settled state of mind. "Be silent" is self-talk, David stirring his soul to remember that decision.

David speaks first of his determination to live in “silence,”—quiet submission to God's will. This is our calling as well, the thing for which we were created. You and I will never be at peace until we've settled this issue: "Not my will but yours be done." This is our first and highest calling as God's children and the source of our deepest pleasure. “I delight to do your will,” the psalmist said (Psalm 40:8). "It's chocolate," the fair Caroline says.

But "the air gets thick in Narnia," so we must "re-up" all through the day, "Hey soul!" We must say again and again, "Be silent (submissive) before the Lord."

That's because God's will is sometimes hard. He asks us to do difficult and dangerous things because they're the right things to do. He calls us to endure hardship without complaining, to love awkward people, to heed the voice inside us that says, "You mustn't," to take steps we'd rather not take. So we must preach to our souls all day long: "Hey soul, listen up. Be silent: Do what Jesus is asking you to do."

We must always ask for God's help, of course, for "our hope is in Him alone" (63:5). When we ask for His help He delivers it, for God never asks us to do anything that He will not or cannot do.

David Roper

2.25.17

Thursday, February 23, 2017

This is War!
Psalm 144

“We’re not yet out of gunshot of the devil” —John Bunyan

Blessed be the LORD, my rock,
who trains my hands for war,
and my fingers for battle. —144:1

Life is war: One skirmish after another. We win a few and we lose a few with fresh battles every day. 

As I look back on my life I must say that youth was a continuous battle to overcome my passions; in my middle years I was besieged by a need to make good. Aging poses a new set of challenges, not the least of which is dealing with losses.

Aging is all about attrition. All the things we’ve spent a lifetime acquiring begin to slip away. Learning to deal with each loss is the spiritual challenge for our last years.

They say that every battle plan is jettisoned in the fog of war. Precision and certainty go out the window. I find myself clueless this morning. A recent loss bewilders me. 

I know no strategy for dealing with this diminishment; no tactic to meet it. I can only entrust myself to God, my rock, who has been faithful through all the years. He must train my fingers for battle and my hands for war.

David Roper

2.22.17

Monday, February 20, 2017

Loneliness
Psalm 142

"He wants not friends that hath Thy love” —Richard Baxter

According to the superscription, David wrote Psalm 142 "in the cave" (of Adullum), making it a companion piece to Psalm 52 (Cf., 1 Samuel 22:1,2). David had fled the Philistine camp in which he mistakenly thought he would find a home. Forced out, he found himself on the run again, friendless and alone.

Look on my right hand and see,
For there is no one who wants to know me;
No place of refuge;
No one asks about me (142:4).

I think of those that have reached "length of days" and are unloved and uncared for. Friends and family have forgotten them.

I see them everywhere—in retirement communities, in homeless shelters, on buses and park benches—"silent sentinels of neglect," as someone has said. My heart goes out to them in their loneliness and despair. Three Dog Night was right: "One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do."

Here in this poem, David turns from his loneliness to one who cares for him like no other. One who listens; one to whom he can pour out his soul.

"I cry to you, O LORD; I say, “You (and you alone) are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living" (142:5). He finds that God is all he needs for as long as he lives. He is there for you as well.

"What a friend we have in Jesus..."

David Roper
2.20.17



Thursday, February 16, 2017

Bale and Boote
Psalm 38

My heart is about to break; I'm burned out,
the light has gone out of my eyes. 
My loved ones and my friends avoid me like the plague,
those who used to be close to me now run away (Psalms 38:11,12 The Message).

The more we need help, the less we attract it. Even our loved ones and friends "avoid (us) like the plague." That's because neediness is off-putting. Hardly anyone likes to be around a deeply troubled soul. Most people have enough trouble of their own. 

There is One, however, who's not put off by our neediness, who never cuts and runs. He understands our sorrow; He hears our sighs (38:9). 

And because He is Himself "a man of sorrows," He is able to sympathize with us and comfort us as no other can.

We should then, "draw near to Him with confidence that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need" (Hebrews 4:16).[1]

"When bale (need) is att hyest, boote (help) is nyest." So goes "The Ballad of Sir Aldingar." And so I pray with David, "Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation!" (38:22).

David Roper
2.16.17

[1] It occurs to me that our friends and loved ones can't help us anyway. They can only point us to the One who is our help.

Going and Not Knowing

"By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing...