Putting Up Hay

“Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven” (Romans 4:9).

One summer, when I was in college, I worked on the Taussig Ranch near Kremmling, Colorado. One evening, tired and hungry after a long day of mowing hay, I drove the tractor into the yard and, acting like the hot dog I considered myself to be, cranked the steering wheel hard to the left, stamped on the left brake and spun the tractor around. 

The sickle was down and swept the legs out from under a 500 gallon gasoline tank standing nearby. The tank hit the ground with a resounding "CRUMP!" The seams split and all the gasoline spewed out.

Mr. Taussig was standing nearby surveying the scene. 

I got off the tractor, stammered an apology and—because it was the first thing that popped into my mind—offered to work the rest of the summer or the rest of my life—whatever came first—without pay. 

The old rancher stared at the wreckage for a moment, and turned toward the house. “Let’s go have supper,” He drawled.

A vaguely-remembered scrap of a story Jesus told passed through my mind—a story about a young man who had done a terrible thing: “Father, I have sinned against you” he cried… “Make me like one of your hired servants.”  But before he could get all the words out of his mouth his father interrupted him. “Let’s go have supper” he said (Luke 15:22-24). 

Such is God’s amazing grace.

David Roper

9.17.17

A Waste of Breath

I balanced all, brought all to mind, 

The years to come seemed waste of breath, 

A waste of breath the years behind 

In balance with this life, this death.

 —W.B. Yeats

David was furious with God, but he didn't want to vent his rage in public: He said, “I will guard my ways; I will guard my mouth as with a muzzle…” (Psalm 39:1).

But David could not restrain himself: "My heart was hot within me, While I was musing the fire burned; Then I spoke with my tongue”: Why have you made us this way: short-lived, transient, ephemeral—”mere breath?" (39:11)

We work hard to accumulate things only to leave them for others to enjoy (39:6). We have nothing to show for a lifetime of effort but suffering and a solitary grave. Hobbes was right: Life is "nasty, brutish and short.” 

At least, that’s the way David felt on this occasion: Life is short and full of trouble. And then we die.

There's no resolution in the psalm. No respite; only resignation and a bitter cry: “Give me a break, cut me some slack before it's too late and I'm out of here" (39:13 The Message)

It’s significant to me that God allowed this psalm to stand as it is—a witness to the fact that He understands how frustrated and angry we can be when things aren't going our way. 

God is safe. You can tell Him off now and then. 

David Roper
8.23.17

Thoughts on 9/11

Carolyn and I knew one of the passengers in United Airlines Flight 175, the plane that crashed into the south tower of the World Trade Center.  On board was Rev. Francis Grogan, a Catholic priest who ministered in North Dartmouth, Massachusetts. In his most recent e–mail, Fr. Francis wrote,

Since I last wrote I have been asked to move on to be Chaplain for a retirement home for our Holy Cross Teaching Brothers. They have need of a new Chaplain having lost their Chaplain of some 23 years in an accident on their property. So, I'm packing up and moving on… I go from Massachusetts to New York State (to Valatie, just south east of Albany.) Actually I'll have less responsibility. Can relax in my 76th year and share my last years with retired teaching Brothers!

A few hours later he was gone…

Life’s uncertainty has inspired numerous metaphors in literature—it is a dream, a flying shuttle, a mist, a puff of smoke, a shadow, a gesture in the air, a sentence written in the sand, a bird flying in one window of a house and out another. The most apt symbol was suggested by a friend who reckoned that the short dash that separates the birth and death dates on a tombstone represents the brevity of one’s life. 

It’s good to ponder the transiency of life now and then. I think of Moses’ prayer: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalms 90:12). Life is too short to treat it carelessly.

The country parson, George Herbert, said he used to frequent graveyards to “take acquaintance of this heap of dust,” and wrote…

Dear flesh, while I do pray, learn here thy stem

And true descent; that when thou shalt grow fat,

And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayest know,

That flesh is but the glass which holds the dust

That measures all our time; which also shall

Be crumbled into dust. Mark here below

How tame these ashes are, how free from lust,

That thou mayest fit thy self against the fall.

Herbert finds himself in a graveyard and ponders his own pasasing. He pictures the “dust that measures all our time” running through the hourglass of our flesh, which would itself in time become dust and be laid to rest with the ashes of those who lay beneath his feet. “Mark here below (in the grave),” he writes, “how tame these ashes are, how free from lust”—how unmoved by passion for money, sex or power.

It’s high time we took acquaintance of our dust, its transient lust and what alone will last…

David Roper

9/11/17

Waiting

Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;

Let the sea roar, and all its fullness;

Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it.

Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord.

For He is coming, for He is coming to judge the earth. 

—Psalm 96:11-13a

Once, "the morning stars sang in harmony" (Job 38:7). Now creation sings off-key.

We wait for the day when nature will be put back in tune (Romans 8:19-21). Then, when grace has perfected nature, we will join with all creation in a rousing, rip-roaring chorus of praise. We will sing in sync with the heavens and the earth, the seas, the fields and the forests, and we shall "clap our hands" with the trees (Isaiah 66:12), for we will have been set free from all that frets us to enjoy the freedom for which we were made. 

“Truly my soul waits in quietness for God…” David wrote (Psalm 62:1). May I too wait with calm resolve and submissive spirit for that day on which God will make everything that's gone wrong with the world irrevocably right.

David Roper

9.8.17

Our Lot

Cast your burden on the LORD,

and he will sustain you. —Psalm 55:22

The word translated "burden" only occurs here in this form in the Old Testament and means an allotment or "that which is given." (The noun means “a gift.") This is the portion God gives us each day, the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

This is the text that lies behind Peter’s oft-quoted words: ”Casting all your care upon Him, because He cares for you" (1Peter 5:7).

Peter's Bible, The Septuagint, translated "burden" as merimna, "cares," referring, by metonymy, to the uncertainties and anxieties that grow out of the burdens we bear: The worry of a hard marriage, the sorrow of a difficult child, the strain of a broken relationship, the pain of an aging body, the care of an elderly parent, the nagging weight of an intransigent congregation—this may be our portion. 

But, the poet assures us, if, by prayer, we cast our burdens on the Lord He will sustain us. Interesting. He does not promise that He will take our circumstances away, for they may be ours for a lifetime. But He will sustain us in our circumstances, giving us grace for every hour. He will “strengthen and help (us) and cause (us) to stand, upheld by His righteous, omnipotent hand!”

“As your days so shall your strength be” (Deuteronomy 33:25).

David Roper

9.6.17

Death Thou Shalt Die!

Surely, this God is our God forever and ever.

He will lead us through death (Psalm 48:14).

Psalm 48 is a national anthem praising Jerusalem, Judah’s capitol city. Jerusalem was a safe place, isolated on a mountain plateau, protected on three sides by steep ravines, enclosed and guarded by massive walls, towers and ramparts. 

But note well: The strength of the city was not in her defense systems, but in the knowledge that God was “in the city” (48:1). New York City is known for her buildings, Seattle for her Sound. Jerusalem was known for the fact that God was there. Israel’s enemies looked at Jerusalem, saw God, panicked and ran away! (48:4-7). 

The poet invites us to tour the city and take note of her strength and beauty: “Walk about Zion, go around her, number her towers, consider well her ramparts, that you may 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” (48:14).

What a strange conclusion to an otherwise straightforward poem about Jerusalem, but not when we understand that we are the citadel in which the eternal God dwells and will, in the end, deliver us from death, our last enemy. One glance at Him and death is shattered (48:4-7).

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Die not. Poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill (us)…

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die! 

—John Donne

David Roper

All the People

Clap your hands, all peoples!

Shout to God with loud songs of joy!

For the LORD, the Most High, is to be feared,

a great king over all the earth. (Psalm 47:1)

More than poetry, this psalm is a prophecy with far-reaching implications:

The princes of the peoples (Gentiles) gather

as the people of the God of Abraham.

For the shields of the earth belong to God;

He is highly exalted! (47:8,9).

Today all nations can gather under Israel's covenant as the people of God," (47:1), the fulfillment of the promise that Abraham would become "the father of many nations" (Genesis 12:3). The psalm anticipates what Paul described as the inclusion of the Gentiles as Abraham’s sons and daughters through the work Christ (Romans 4:11; Galatians 3:7–9).

In all this, it's significant to me that the princes (leaders) of the nations (Gentiles) become men and women of faith (They gather as the "people of the God of Abraham.") Furthermore, they are "shields" protecting their people from evil. Plato was on track when he declared that leaders in his republic would be philosopher-kings whose primary role was to exemplify and teach virtue. Once again character matters! (1Timothy 4:12).

Here’s a gratuitous thought: The poet advises us to, "Sing praises with a psalm!" (47:7). The last word, "psalm," is the Hebrew word maskil that occurs in introductions to several psalms (32, 42, etc.). It comes from a root that means wisdom or understanding. Thus, when I worship in song I should think about and gain wisdom from the words of the song as I sing them, and not drone on with my mind engaged elsewhere. Paul may have been thinking of this verse when he wrote, "I will sing with my mind" (1 Corinthians 14:15). 

This verse also addresses one of my peeves—certain repetitious, theologically thin and watery praise songs. There's nothing to think about when you sing them. 

David

9.3.17