Afterward!

Nevertheless I am continually with You;

You hold me by my right hand.

You will guide me with Your counsel,

And afterward you will receive me into glory. —Psalm 73:23,24

This poem is concerned with the old question: Why do good things happen to bad people? And conversely,why do bad things happen to those that are good? (73:13,14).

Asaph, Israel's poet, was troubled by these questions until he "went into the sanctuary of God." There, in God's presence, he came upon the answer: There's an "end" for every human being—literally an "afterward." The so-called "good life" ends in the grave (73:17-20).  

Asaph continues: "My flesh and my heart will fail" (I too will die), but God is the strength of my life and my portion forever. He is "continually" with me, holding my right hand, guiding me with his counsel, and "afterward" (same word as vs. 17) He will "receive me into glory.” Unlike those who prospered in this life, Asaph had God and he had him now and forever (73:23-26). "Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow!" Who could ask for anything more?

Years ago I heard J.I. Packer telling a story about a don at Oxford University whose colleagues discriminated against him because of his Christian faith. Packer was trying to console him when the man interrupted him: "It's fine," he replied with a twinkle in his eye, "for I have God and they do not." 

Asaph winds his poem down to the same conclusion: 

Whom have I in heaven but you 

and there is nothing on earth that I desire besides You.

My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart

and my portion forever...

Thus the nearness of God is my good (73:25-28).

That's only good life worthy of the name .

David Roper

Unnecessary Things

“Satan has the intention of detaining us with unnecessary things and thus keeping us from those that are necessary. Once he has gained an opening in you of a handbreadth, he will force in his whole body together with sacks full of useless questions.” 

—Luther, Instruction from the Saints to the Church in Erfurt (1522)

I’m trying to simplify my life these days, to be more comfortable with things I don’t know and will never know until I get to heaven. 

I find myself more open to mystery and uncertainty; I’m able to embrace more ambiguity. My questions are rarely true or false, but multiple–choice. I believe more ardently now than ever before, but in fewer and fewer things.

There are things I believe with all my heart—the Apostle’s Creed wraps up most of them, I think—but other, more remote aspects of theology that once dominated my thoughts don’t weigh on my mind anymore. Chesterton said that angels fly because they take themselves lightly. I’m trying to learn how to fly. 

The main thing for me now is not to know all the answers, but to know God, made real and personal in Jesus. I find that few things are necessary now, "really only one" (Luke 10:42). 

One of the by–products of this shift is that I no longer have the urge to mold people to my theological presuppositions. I can be more tolerant of those that disagree with me; I can let them be. Just because they don’t agree with me doesn’t mean they’re wrong. 

Another result is that I find myself more open to Christians that are not exactly my kind. It’s with “all the saints” that we know all the dimensions of God’s love, Paul reminds us (Ephesians 3:18). I can learn from all of them. 

Something happened to me some years ago that reinforced my thinking along these lines. I was a student then at the Graduate Theological Union, a consortium of seminaries in Berkeley, California. One of the schools was a seminary in which Jesuit priests are prepared. I took most of my classes there. 

One winter I enrolled in a tutorial with Dr. John Huesman, a Jesuit priest and ranking Hebrew scholar. I expected to learn from Fr. Huesman, but I learned a good deal more than I expected. 

One cold, windy afternoon, we were sitting at the kitchen table in his tiny apartment reading Isaiah 53. As I began to read the text, I looked up into the good doctor’s eyes, saw them glisten and the tears began to flow. He was weeping, not over my translation (which doubtlessly grieved him), but over the truth. 

“David,” I thought to myself, “You’ve read this passage many times, but not once have you wept over the Suffering Servant. You have much to learn from this man.” 

Emerson’s words come to mind: “Every man is in some way my superior.” In that I can learn from him. This is especially true of those whom God considers his intimate friends. I can learn devotion and holiness from them, even if they’re not exactly my kind.

David Roper

Open wide

Psalm 81

I am the LORD your God,

who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.

Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it. —Psalm 81:10

This verse is a direct quote from the preamble to the Ten Commandments: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Thou shalt not; thou shalt not; thou shalt..." (Exodus 20:2).

Here in this psalm, however, where you might expect to find another list of rules, God offers a grace-note: “Open your mouth wide and I will fill it."

Israel's history, like mine, is a tale of underachievement, yet God does not call for greater effort. He rather asks us to lay our "doing" down and receive what He has to offer.

Trying to keep a bunch of rules and make ourselves better is a losing cause. I know because I tried it for years. God alone is the source of goodness for He alone is good.  If we open our mouths wide He will, in his time, fill us with love, joy, peace, patience, and all the other goodness we admire in Him and seek for ourselves. He will feed us with the "finest of the wheat," and satisfy us with "honey from the rock" —sweetness flowing from an unexpected source.(Psalm 81:16).

Weary, working, burdened one,

Wherefore toil you so?

Cease your doing; all was done

Long, long ago. —James Proctor

David Roper
1.26.20

Fortitude

"With God we shall do valiantly; for He it is who will tread down our foes."—Psalm 108:13

As a child I loved The Wizard of Oz and being a timid child was drawn to The Cowardly Lion. In the end, as you know, the lion was given a medal for valor. “Look what it says," he exclaimed, "'COURAGE’. Ain’t it the truth, ain’t it the truth!”

Physical courage is one thing; moral courage is another. Sometimes the hardest battles are fought within. Emily Dickinson wrote, "To fight aloud is very brave, but gallanter, I know, who charge within the bosom, the cavalry of woe..." Fortitude is the name we give to this virtue. 

Fortitude is not simply one of the virtues, it's the virtue that gives strength to all the other virtues. Chastity, honesty, patience, mercy are hard-earned virtues in a world like ours. It's fortitude that enables us to endure. 

Aquinas wrote, ”The principal act of fortitude is endurance, that is, to stand immovable in the midst of dangers.” Fortitude is "a long obedience in the right direction"; it is doing the right thing over the long haul despite the consequences. Fortitude is sticking with a hard marriage; staying in a small place when prominence beckons; refusing to betray a moral principle to get along or to get ahead. We can do these things because God is with us, treading down our foes. 

I think of a scene in C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle: Jill Pole asks, “What do you think is inside the stable?” “Who knows?” Tirian replied.  “Two Calormenes with drawn swords, as likely as not, one on each side of the door... There’s no knowing. But courage, child. We are all between the paws of the true Aslan."

Ain't it the truth! Ain’t it the truth!

David Roper

1.27.20

"But God”

Recently my friend let me know that she and her husband had a great shock. His serious medical condition had a solution— but that solution was not available to them. In her email she said that while fully looking at their situation, their stance now was to live in the truth of “...but God!”
My morning reading in Edges of His Ways, was written by Amy Carmichael a missionary to India, a woman who knew a lot about suffering, uncertainty and impossibilities. She too referred to the phrase “...but God.”  Carmichael mentioned Psalm 73:26. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
I hurried to Psalm 73 and considered the psalmist’s crisis and the process which led to his confident outlook.

When Asaph wrote Psalm 73 there was much going against him and the situation seemed overwhelming. He mused and muttered and then at one point turned to God for understanding. He even brought his “embittered heart” with him as he went to God. 

Folks just weren’t doing what was right and they were on his case. God showed Asaph the end of the matter and what was coming.  God would deal with Asaph’s detractors. God also clarified something else for the psalmist, something that put strength in his soul. Something Asaph must have forgotten until he turned to God.  This “something else” ultimately lead to Asaph’s “...but God” resolve in verse 26. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
After all his musing and muttering the psalmist goes on to say, even with an embitter heart, “Nevertheless I am continually with You” (verse 23).

I had to stop and ask myself where this assurance came from. The writer acknowledges an embittered heart and later a heart that may fail (verse 26). How can an individual with a heart so flawed and failing be assured of God’s help? My question was answered in the next phrase; “Nevertheless I am continually with You. You, God, have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me, and afterwards receive me with glory.” This truth about God was the “something else” Asaph needed in his crisis.

You have taken hold of my right hand! 

You will guide me and 

afterwards receive me with glory.

What strength in that knowledge, that remembering. As the psalmist turns to Him, God gives reassurance of His part in the predicament which is draining Asaph. It is God who “grasps, guides, glorifies.”  

So often we hear, “Just hold on to God.” Still we know our strength is small and we are losing our grip. Is all lost then? No, no, a thousand times no! God is holding on to the hand of His child. Holding on to my hand and your hand. Such stability is beyond me at times. Such steadiness comes from Another. Hehas (past tense) taken hold of my hand. A hand that is now nail-pierced for my sake, a hand that guides and glorifies.

When I acknowledge and embrace the fact that God is holding me, I can say with the psalmist, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Our remembering “...but God...” can lead us to say “But as for me...!”

Psalm 73:28:
“But as for me, the nearness of God (He is holding my hand) is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge (by turning to Him)
that I may tell of all [His] works.”

Thank You, Lord God, that You are holding on to each of Your children, including us. With anticipation we look to You for our help, as did Asaph, as did Amy Carmichael and as are my friends mentioned above. We come in Jesus’ name. Amen

Carolyn Roper
Each morning I have been listening to a beautiful rendition of a song which encourages me: He Will Hold Me Fast  by Keith and Kristin Getty. May it encourage you also.

https://www.bing.com/search?q=he+will+hold+me+fast+youtube&qs=HS&pq=he+will+hold+me+fast&sc=8-20&cvid=1AF19B86D4C4408897ED0BD48A344944&FORM=QBLH&sp=1

He Will Hold Me Fast

(Lyrics)

When I fear my faith will fail, Christ will hold me fast;
When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast.
I could never keep my hold through life's fearful path;
For my love is often cold; He must hold me fast.

He will hold me fast, He will hold me fast;
For my Saviour loves me so, He will hold me fast.

Those He saves are His delight, Christ will hold me fast;
Precious in his holy sight, He will hold me fast.
He'll not let my soul be lost; His promises shall last;
Bought by Him at such a cost, He will hold me fast.

For my life He bled and died, Christ will hold me fast;
Justice has been satisfied; He will hold me fast.
Raised with Him to endless life, He will hold me fast
‘Till our faith is turned to sight, When He comes at last!

The Last Enemy

Psalm 48

 

“Surely, this God is our God forever and ever. He will guide us through death” (Psalm 48:14).

 

Psalm 48 is a national anthem praising Jerusalem, the capitol city. It represent the congregation of God’s people wherever they may be. 

Jerusalem was a safe place, isolated on a mountain plateau, protected on three sides by steep ravines, enclosed and guarded by massive towers and ramparts.

 

But the strength of the city and it's surest defense was God. He was was “in the city” (48:1). 

 

San Francisco is known for her Bay and bridges; Seattle for her Sound. Jerusalem was known for the fact that God was there. When Israel’s enemies saw him in residence they were shattered! (Psalm 48:4-7).

 

But the psalm ends on an unexpected note. The poet invites us to tour the city and take note of her strength and to “tell the next generation the story of God” (48:12,13).

 

And what is "the story of God"? "Surely, this God is our God forever and ever. He will lead us through death and beyond” (48:14).

 

What a strange conclusion to an otherwise straightforward poem about Jerusalem. But not when we understand the poet's train of thought: God dwells within the city to destroy all her enemies: “The  last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1Corinthians 15:26). When death comes for us God himself will be at our side to meet it, crush it and bring us safely through.  

 

“Poor death,” John Donne mused. “Thou shalt die!”

 

The Business of Love

“You yourselves know how I was with you the whole time from the first day that I set foot in Asia" (Acts 20:18),

Off and on through the years I've dipped into George Herbert’s book on ministry, The Country Parson. It’s a wonderful work, full of practical wisdom, part of the Classics of Western Spirituality Library by Paulist Press.

I read this morning, “The Country Parson is a lover of old customs, if they be good, and harmless; and the rather, because Country people are much addicted to them, so that to favor them therein is to win their hearts, and to oppose them therein is to deject them. If there be any ill in the custom, that may be severed from the good, he pares the apple, and gives them the clean to feed on."

Then Herbert comments, by way of example, on an old custom among country people, namely walking in procession around their fields invoking God’s blessing on their crops. (Apparently some parish priests were disdainful of the practice.) Herbert cites four ”manifest advantages,“ to going along with the custom, chief among them is the love shown in ”walking and accompanying one another.“ 

Herbert continues: ”The country parson, far from condemning such assemblies procures (brings about or effects) them often, knowing that absence breeds strangeness, but presence love. Now Love is his business and aim.”

I think of Dick Langford—the Young Life leader that won my heart when I was in high school—showing up day after day on the school grounds and practice fields, attending our games, present in places we gathered. I marveled that Dick would hang with a bunch of high school kids. 

Now I know that his business and aim was love. 

David Roper

Unfinished

Psalm 57

I cry out to God Most High,

to God who will complete me.

He will send from heaven and save me…

God will send out his loyal love (Psalm 57:2,3).

David was hiding in a cave near the village of Adullam. Having played the fool in the Philistine camp he crept into a cold, dark hole in the ground to lament his shame (1 Samuel 22:1,2). 

We all make fools of ourselves now and then, each humiliation a reminder that vast parts of us are still unfinished. We are failed and flawed human beings and will be until God “completes us” (57:2, see also Philippians 1:6). 

But even as we decry our shame, as pleas for mercy tumble out of our mouths, God "sends out” a reminder of his loyal love (57:3). Though we are incomplete, all is well.  

Somewhere I read that Puritan women wore aprons that had two pockets: one contained a slip of paper inscribed with Luther's confession: “I am dust and ashes and full of sin”; the other with this assurance: “I am the apple of God’s eye” (Psalm 17:8).

Such is the paradox of grace.

David Roper

1.20.20 

The Band of Brothers

Psalm 54

“God is my helper; the Lord is among those who are with me" (Psalm 54:4).

According to the superscription, this poem was written "when the Ziphites  told Saul, 'Is not David hiding among us?'"

David and his mighty men heard that the Philistines were pillaging the farms and fields of Keilah. (Keilah was a small village in Judah, David's tribe. Ziph was the geographical region in which the city of Keilah was located.) 

So, "David and his men went to Keilah and fought with the Philistines...and struck them with a great blow. In this way, David saved the inhabitants of Keilah" (1 Samuel 23:1ff.)

The story continues: "Saul was told that David had come to Keilah," whereupon Saul mustered his army and marched to the city, thinking that he would trap David within it's walls.

Who informed on David? Well...the Ziphites, the inhabitants of Keilah, his friends and neighbors, the folks he delivered from the Philistines, proving once again the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished.

However, God warned David of Saul's advance and David and his men were able to slip away into the Wilderness of Ziph, where, though Saul sought him every day, “God did not give him into his hand" (1Samuel 23:14)—a happy ending that takes us back to the theme of the psalm: God was one among David's band of brothers, the hard men that kept him safe at night. 

And so, though ersatz friends will betray me, I have loyal friends at my side, and God is one of them—my help in time of need. 

David Roper 

1.20.20

Voices Low and Gentle

 

"The silver-haired head is a crown of glory, if it is found in the way of righteousness." — Proverbs 16:31:

 

I read Old John Keble's meditation for the "25th Sunday after Trinity" this morning and thought of you folks out there that shepherd God's flock. Here are Keble's thoughts and my glosses: 

 

Pride of the dewy morning! 

The swain's experienced eye 

From thee takes timely warning, 

Nor trusts the gorgeous sky. 

 

For well he knows, such dawnings gay 

Bring noons of storm and shower, 

And travelers linger on the way 

Beside the sheltering bower. 

 

Country folk know that bright, beautiful mornings can deteriorate and become clouded with "storm and shower." They don't presume that a day that begins well, will end well. 

 

E'en so, in hope and trembling 

Should watchful shepherd view 

His little lambs assembling, 

With glance both kind and true; 

 

'Tis not the eye of keenest blaze, 

Nor the quick-swelling breast, 

That soonest thrills at touch of praise-

These do not please him best. 

 

Good Shepherds are delighted when God's "little lambs" make a good beginning, but must wait and watch over them as they mature and never presume that they will grow beyond the point where they no longer need pastoral care.

 

But voices low and gentle, 

And timid glances shy, 

That seem for aid parental  

To sue all wistfully, 

 

Still pressing, longing to be right, 

Yet fearing to be wrong, 

In these the Pastor dares delight, 

A lamb-like, Christ-like throng. 

 

These in Life's distant even 

Shall shine serenely bright, 

As in th' autumnal heaven 

Mild rainbow tints at night,

 

Sheep, as they grow older, still long ("sue") for parental, pastoral care. Good shepherds will take delight in aging sheep that are pressing, longing for righteousness at "life's distant even." 

 

We take delight in young folks and their spiritual pilgrimage. In our enthusiasm for these lambs, however, we may think that older, more mature sheep, having made a good beginning, can make it on their own. 

 

But the hardest tests lie in the "even" of our lives. Older believers, though well established in their faith, remain "a lamb-like throng." They will always need a loving pastor to help them finish strong.

 

David Roper

Rain

Psalm 65

You visit the earth and water it;

you greatly enrich it;

the river of God is full of water....

—Psalm 65:9

Rain. We take it for granted. Or we consider it a nuisance, if we have a picnic planned. ("Who'll stop the rain?")

But David saw rain as a sign and a sacrament, pointing us to God's eternal love for growing things. Rain is God "visiting the earth" to water it and enrich it (65:9).

Showers sweep across the plowed ground, "watering it's furrows, settling it's ridges, softening the dirt clods, blessing it with growth" (65:10). Rain is God, walking through the earth like Johnny Appleseed, leaving behind His bounty: "The paths on which He walks overflow with goodness" (65:11).

Here's a dimension of truth that most folks have lost. It’s a vision, a perspective, a way of “seeing.” Put simply, it is the capacity to see "through" rather than "at" creation.

Nature is a signpost pointing to God, but tragically, most people only look at the sign. C.S. Lewis described our foolishness as a "dog-like" way of seeing. (If you point at your dog's food dish and say "Eat," he will stare at your finger, confusing the sign with the thing signified.) 

A little thing like rain reveals the face of God if we have eyes to see it. The little hills, the pastures, the valleys take in God's love. They shout and sing together for joy!" (65:13).

So should I!

Sweet the rain’s new fall

Sunlit from heaven,

Like the first dew fall

On the first grass.

Praise for the sweetness

Of the wet garden,

Sprung in completeness

Where His feet pass. —Eleanor Farjeon

David Roper

[Yes, I know, rain also brings floods, raging streams, stagnant ponds and anopheles mosquitoes. We don’t rhapsodize over the beauty of these aspects of nature. It’s because of the existence of such things, however, that we realize that something has gone wrong.]

The Pillars of the Earth

Psalm 75

When the earth totters, and all its inhabitants,

it is I who keep steady its pillars. Selah —Psalm 75:3

There is a panic-stricken reaction to crumbling moral foundations in Psalm 11 and the answering reminder of God’s guiding hand. Here, in this psalm, the poet supplies another aspect of God’s control of all things: He is a stabilizing influence within society. 

Theologians spell out this influence in terms of “common grace,” his gift of wholesome ideas and institutions that shore up society; and the influence of godly men and women. Ten godly citizens would have saved even Sodom (Genesis 18:32). 

We vote for the game-changers, the movers and shakers, those that can get things done. It is God, however, who establishes the human framework of a nation: "I myself keep steady her pillars" (75:3). He raises up rulers—good leaders, fools and naves—to get His work done. 

Here's Paul's take: "For the Scripture says to the Pharaoh, “For this very purpose I have raised you up, that I may show My power in you, and that My name may be declared in all the earth" (Romans 9:17). Pharaoh? An uncouth, duplicitous, bigoted, unbalanced, narcissistic fool? I wouldn't vote for him if he was the last man standing! Yet God in His wisdom exalted this man to bring salvation to His people.

Thus the poet can say with reference to those who govern us, “Don’t  toss your horns at Heaven for exaltation does not from the east or from the west or from the south, but it is God who executes justice, putting down one and raising up another” (75:4 ,5). 

We vote, but God determines the outcome. That’s mystery and a comfort as I watch the evening news. 

David Roper

Black Sheep

Psalm 44

“It is for your sake we are killed all day long" (44:22).

Psalm 44 is the "black sheep" of the Psalter, a lament psalm with no resolution… or so it seems.

The poet begins by recounting Israel's past victories and the means by which his ancestors drove the Canaanites out of the land—"not by their sword" but by the strength of God's almighty arm (44:1-4).

So...Israel went out to battle again, counting on God to fight for them: "Not in my bow do I trust, nor can my sword save me..."

...and suffered historic, humiliating defeat (44:5-28). It was a slaughter (44;11). They bit the dust; their bellies were dragging the ground (44:25). Georgia Tech vs. Cumberland College. 222-0.

All this came about although Israel had not forgotten God, nor had they been false to His covenant (44:17).

What gives?

Ah! A flash of insight at the point of greatest perplexity: "It is for your sake we are killed all day long" (44:22). The battle is more than local. We're part of the struggle of "the kings of the earth … against the Lord and his Anointed" (Psalm 2:2). We suffer the slings and arrows of the evil one because we're on the Lord's side.

Paul cites this psalm and spells out our "defeats": tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and sword. (I would add sickness, sorrow, disappointment, pain and loss.) Nevertheless, he insists, "In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us"  (Romans 8;37).

Though we get overrun now and then, there is this assurance: "Neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord!" (Romans 8:38,39). Some days we’ll lose; some days we’ll lose BIG. But no matter. We are loved with everlasting love!

The psalmist saw this: "Rise up; come to our help! Redeem us for the sake of your steadfast love!" (44:26).

David Roper

Straight to the Goal

Augustine gathers up all the interpretations of Genesis 1 that were extant in his day—most of which are still around—and concludes that any meaning, if true, is acceptable: “What harm is there if a reader holds an opinion which you (God), the light of all truthful minds, show to be true, even though it is not what was intended by the author, who himself meant something true, but not exactly that” (Confesssions, XII.18.27). 

In other words, if I arrive at an interpretation of a text other than that which the author intended I have done no harm as long as the concept is true in itself, i.e., “true” to the overall teaching of scripture. 

His hermeneutic seems irregular to those of us who w ere taught to hopnor E. D. Hirsch’s rule that a text has only one meaning and the “true meaning of a text is the meaning that its author intended.” Augustine accepted the idea of authorial intent, but went beyond critical theory to state that “the author’s (ultimate) intention must be sought in love.” 

Having listened to all these divergent opinions (interpretations of Genesis 1) and weighed them, I do not wish to “bandy” words, for that serves no purpose except to ruin those who listen (2 Timothy 2:14). The law is an excellent thing for building us up provided we use it lawfully, because its object is to promote the love that springs from a pure heart, a good conscience and unfeigned faith (1 Timothy 1:4,5–8), and I know what were the twin precepts on which our Master made the whole law and the prophets depend (Matthew 22:40).

The “twin precepts” to which Augustine refers are the Great Commandment: “You shall love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself.” All scripture is summed up in this tenet. 

Thus, when I approach scripture I must come with this question: “In what way does this text encourage greater love for my Lord and my neighbor?” This is the“lawful” (God-intended) use of scripture. Paul saw this clearly: “The end (“telos”—outcome) of our instruction is love…” (1 Timothy 1:5).

I may miss the precise meaning of a biblical author, but if my understanding is in accord with the overall teaching of scripture—any given text is understood in the light of all texts, what the Reformers referred to as The Analogy of Faith), and if my exegesis encourages me to love God and my neighbor, I will have achieved the ultimate intention of God’s word. Put another way, the purpose of Bible reading and study is not to perfect our understanding of the text, but to perfect our love. 

This, Paul calls, “cutting straight to the goal.” (2 Timothy 2:15).[1]

David Roper

---

[1] This is the verb that the AV translates, “rightly dividing (the Word of  truth.)” The verb, orthotomeo means to “cut a straight path,” and was used in the Paul’s day, on one occasion, of laborers building a road through a forest snd “cutting straight” to their destination. 

Desire

Psalm 37

"Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart" (Psalm 37:4).

Desire is the mainspring of our hearts, the driving force of our lives, hidden from others, but always lingering just under the surface of our thoughts. We can’t put the feeling into words; it’s beyond us. C.S. Lewis called it sehnsucht—a bitter-sweet longing for something just out of reach.

Fame and fortune don’t assuage it; they only beget more desire. The more we get the more we want. Like a child opening a dozen Christmas gifts, we keep looking for that elusive "something more." Whatever the object of our quest, when we find it, it never contains the joy we sought.  

Disappointment, thus, is the rule, not the exception in this life. No thing, not even a very good thing, can fully satisfy us. That's why there's always a tinge of sadness in our greatest pleasures. 

On the other hand, the Psalmist writes, "Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires (the "askings") of your heart" (Psalm 37:4). This the secret of satisfaction and joy: Knowing that everything we ever wanted or desired is found in God’s love. There's no other way to be really, truly happy. Period!

Whom have I, Lord, but Thee,

Soul-thirst to satisfy?

Exhaustless spring! The waters free!

All other streams are dry. —Mary Bowley Peters

David Roper

“E'en Though It Be a Cross.”

Psalm 40

In sacrifice and offering you have not delighted,

but you have given me an open ear.

Burnt offering and sin offering

you have not required.

Then I said, “Behold, I have come;

in the scroll of the book it is written of me:

I delight to do your will, O my God;

your law is in my heart” (Psalm 40:6-8).

“You have given me an open ear…” Literally, “You dug out my ears”: a reference to the ear canal God "excavated” in both sides of my head.

To what end? That I may hear, of course, but preeminently that I may hear what God has to say and put it “in my heart.” And then, with my entire body, willingly, joyfully  comply. The author of Hebrews, quotes the Greek version of the Old Testament: “a body you have prepared for me,” substituting the whole for a part. Hearing involves putting my entire body on the line. 

The New Testament puts these words in Jesus' mouth as he assures his Father that he will do his will no matter what it will cost. (Hebrews 10:5-10). On this occasion, his Father's will was the cross.

God's will may indeed entail something akin to a cross. Can I hear it and bear it manfully, not as my duty but as my "delight" (40: 8)?

Bearing up isn’t easy, but if I make a start, grace will do the rest. "The readiness is all," Hamlet said.

David Roper