Straight to the Father's Knee

"Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for 

his steadfast love endures forever!" (Psalm 107:1) 

This poem revolves around four human predicaments: "Some wandered in desert wastes" (4). "Some sat in darkness and in the shadow of death" (13). "Some were fools through their sinful ways " (17). ”Some went down to the sea in ships" and encountered gut-wrenching storms (23).  

                   

Loneliness, depression, guilt, anxiety. In each situation, the answer is the same: “They cried out to the LORD and he delivered them from their distress" (6,13,19,28). 

Prayer is the spontaneous, irrepressible, and sometimes inarticulate, cry of a heart under duress. "God, help me!" is our primal prayer. When our troubles overwhelm us, when our resources fail us, when our hearts are broken, "the natural thing is straight to the Father's knee" (George MacDonald). 

There we are given what no other person, place or thing can deliver: God’s relentless love (107:1,8,15,21,31,43). 

David Roper 

10.6.17

Open Wide!

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

I read this verse today and thought of mornings long ago when our boys were very small and we spoon fed them. (Failing that, though each child tried very hard to get the meal into his mouth, most of it wound up smeared all over his face, in his hair, in his ears, on his tray, on the floor or all over us.) Here, I picture God picking up a spoon and saying, "Here comes the little train down the little track; Choo. Choo. Choo. Open wide."

If first two lines of the verse sound familiar it's because they're a direct quote from the preamble to the Ten Commandments: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt..." The commandments follow: "Thou shalt not; thou shalt not; thou not..." (Exodus 20:2). 

Here in this psalm, however, where we expect to find another set of rules, God makes this offer: “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, open our hearts wide and receive what He longs to give us.

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 God alone is good. We must ask for his righteousness and keep on asking. "Ask and it will be given to you" Jesus said (Matthew 7:7). It's a promise. 

Long, long ago, on the cross, Jesus did away with our wrong-doing. Now He lives to make us good children. If we "open our mouths wide" He will, in His time, fill us with love, joy, peace, patience, and all the virtues we admire in Jesus and seek for ourselves. He will feed us with the "finest of wheat," and satisfy us with "honey from the rock" (Psalm 81:16). 

Cream of wheat and honey. YUM. Open wide!

Weary, working, burdened one,

Wherefore toil you so?

Cease your doing; all was done

Long, long ago.

—James Proctor

David Roper

10.3.17

The Weak and the Fatherless

God has taken his place in the divine council;

in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:

“How long will you judge unjustly

and show partiality to the wicked?" Selah (Psalm 82:1).

Nothing stings so sharply as injustice and nothing should. How can I "rescue the weak and the needy (and) deliver them from the hand of the wicked?" (82:4). Shall I stand in solidarity with those that are oppressed? Shall I take a knee? 

Asaph's insight is huge. Earthly oppression is just the tip of the iceberg! There's a great mass of darkness lying underneath the power structures of this world. The real powers—“gods" Asaph calls them—Satan and his minions—are the efficient cause of racial and social injustice and inequality in our society.

So… the task of bringing justice to the world is much bigger than I. Old Satan is too powerful for old David. How can I, a very small person in a very small place, be an agent of justice in the world? 

Certainly, there are lawful and appropriate ways to protest injustice and I as an American citizen and as a Christian can take advantage of these counter measures, but before I take to the streets, there are ever-important “first things” to do.

For starters, I must myself "give justice to the weak and the fatherless; and maintain the rights of the afflicted and the destitute" (82:3). I must sit in judgment on the racial and social injustice I find in me. I have no right to judge an oppressor until I have challenged every vestige of tyranny and abuse in me!

Second, I can share the good news of God's love with those that are downtrodden, for their oppression is more profound than they know. They are groping for light and moral certainty: "They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk about in darkness" (82:5). I can show them the One who has freed us from spiritual darkness, the most egregious oppression of all. 

Finally, I can be part of God's plan to bring righteousness to the earth by "taking a knee"—by praying for justice every day. Asaph ends his poem with a short, incisive prayer: ”Arise, O God, judge the earth; for you shall inherit all the nations" (82:8). [So much for the devil’s claim: “I give it (the world) to whom I will” (Luke 4:6).] 

Injustice cries out for an hour of reckoning and it will come. God is the  loftiest of the powers that be! He has "taken a stand in the divine council." He is even now "judging the gods” (82:1). He is taking notes and collecting evidence. The sentence has been handed down. The gods and those they influence will “perish like ordinary men” (82:7). It’s just a matter of time.

David Roper

10.2.17

Walking into the Darkness

Let him who walks in darkness

and has no light

trust in the name of the Lord

and rely on his God. 

Behold, all you who kindle a fire,

who equip yourselves with burning torches!

Who walk by the light of your fire,

and by the torches that you have kindled!

This you have from my hand:

you shall lie down in anguish. —Isaiah 50:10, 11

It’s very difficult to prophesy, especially with regard to the future. Indeed, the more I try to delve into things to come the more mysterious they become and the more anxious I become. That’s why I must trust the Lord and rely solely on Him.

The word translated “rely” means “to lean on," and is the same verb used in Proverbs 3:5,6: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding."

I ask myself: "How will I house, clothe, feed and otherwise provide for myself and my family going forward?” I have no light on the future and so I must lean on one who does. The alternative is to rely on my own understanding—“walk by the light of my own fire, and by the torches that I have kindled”—an expedient that leads to greater and greater uncertainty and “anguish” (Isaiah 50:11).

There is a better way: To “trust in the name of the Lord” and lean solely on Him. I am known and loved by One who knows what the future holds and who will be with me as it unfolds. The darkness is not dark to Him; "The night is as bright as the day" (Psalm 139:12). 

David Roper
8.5.17

'Till We Have Faces

Help me, O God...

I am weary with my crying out;

my throat is parched.

My eyes grow dim

with waiting for my God.

More in number than the hairs of my head

are those who hate me without cause;

mighty are those who would destroy me,

those who attack me with lies... 

O God, you know my folly; the wrongs I have done." —Psalm 69:1-5

The psalmist sets out to pray, lamenting the wrong that others have done to him. But, as the complaints tumble out of his mouth, he begins to see his own "folly," the wrong he has done to others. 

Prayer works like that: It changes us, a largely unremarked premise C.S. Lewis' develops in his fantasy, 'Till We Have Faces.

The main character, Orual, has been taking angry mental notes throughout her life, bitter at others and the way they have treated her. Finally, deciding to put her complaints in writing, she describes each instance in which she believes she has been wronged. But as she does so she sees her own "face" (her "self"). In a flash of insight, Orual asks, "How can the gods meet us face to face, 'til we have faces?"[1]

So, God helping me, I hope someday to see my "face" as it is. Then, perhaps, I will begin to respond to those that have wronged me with greater insight, humility, mercy and grace (cf, Matthew 7:1-5).

David Roper

9.23.17

[1] Till We Have Faces is set in a pagan culture 

Rain

You visit the earth and water it;

you greatly enrich it;

the river of God is full of water…

—Psalm 65:9

I looked at the weather app on my iPhone this morning: “Snow in the mountains; 42˚and rain in the valley.”  Good! I love rain. It makes me want to find a quiet place, pick up a book and idle the hours away.

David saw something more: Rain is a sign and a sacrament, pointing us to God's eternal love for growing things. Rain is God "visiting the earth" to water 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." Rain is God, "walking" through the earth like Johnny Appleseed, leaving behind His bounty: "The paths on which He walks overflow with goodness" (65:10, 11).

Here's a dimension of truth most folks have lost. It is a vision, a perspective, a way of looking at things. Put simply, it is the capacity to see through things rather than at them.

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, for example, 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 and "shout for joy!" (65:13). 

So do 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

9.22.17

A Blessing in Disguise

You, O God, have tested us;

You have tried us as silver is tried.

You brought us into the net;

You laid a crushing burden on our backs.

You let men ride over our heads.

We went through fire and through water;

But You brought us out to full satisfaction.

—Psalm 66:10-12

“You…You…You…You…You…You." The psalmist sees God in every ordeal: Temptations, trials, obstructions, burdens, oppression, fire and rain—all these crises are mediated through God's hands. 

It’s an enigma: Though others afflict us, or we afflict ourselves, God accepts responsibility for all that befalls us. Scripture affirms it. I can not explain it. I can only state it.

One of the most startling statements in the Bible occurs on an occasion in which Satan, having done all he could to torment Job, appears a second time before God, who takes responsibility for all that Satan did to Job: "You incited me to act against Job" (Job 2:3). 

If events are random the world becomes a very scary place, filled with random, meaningless, gratuitous heartbreak and sorrow. But if God in His Love and Wisdom orders all that happens to us here, we can accept each sorrow though we may not understand it. “Why?” we ask in our despair. God says, “Dear child, you wouldn’t understand it if I explained it to you. Just trust me.”

“Though you slay me,” Job said, “I will trust you” (Job 13:15). Job did not enter into acceptance lightly. He struggled with frustration and anxiety as you and I do. But despite his perplexity, he knew that God was good and could be trusted. He could then accept all that God brought his way.

Acceptance brings an inexplicable sense of well-being that the biblical writers called "blessedness"—a point the psalmist also makes: "You brought us out (of suffering) to full satisfaction." (66:12). “Full satisfaction.” It’s the word David uses in his Shepherd Psalm: "My cup overflows" (Psalm 23:5).

Good when He gives, supremely good;
Nor less when He denies:
Afflictions, from His sovereign hand,
Are blessings in disguise. —author unknown

David Roper

9.21.17

In Acceptance

He said, ‘I will forget the dying faces;

The empty places,

They shall be filled again.
O voices moaning deep within me, cease.’
But vain the word; vain, vain:
Not in forgetting lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will crowd action upon action,

The strife of faction

Shall stir me and sustain;

O tears that drown the fire of manhood cease.’

But vain the word; vain, vain:

Not in endeavour lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will withdraw me and be quiet,

Why meddle in life’s riot?

Shut be my door to pain.

Desire, thou dost befool me, thou shalt cease.’

But vain the word; vain, vain:

Not in aloofness lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will submit; I am defeated.

God hath depleted

My life of its rich gain.

O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease?’

But vain the word; vain, vain:

Not in submission lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will accept the breaking sorrow

Which God tomorrow

Will to His son explain.’

Then did the turmoil deep within me cease.

Not vain the word, not vain;

For in Acceptance lieth peace.

—Amy Carmichael