Psalm 73: Why Do Good People Have It So Bad?

15 01 2012

An edited journal excerpt from May 1991

“Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever

(Psalm 73:25-26).”

I find a lot of heart echoes in this psalm as I read it. It captures a lot of what has been happening in me.

Verse 2-12 describes a deep jealousy that Asaph was experiencing over the apparent prosperity of the without-God people around him. It looks to him like many of them have it easier and are doing better than the with-God people.

In verse 13-16, Asaph expresses his frustration, feeling like he has been wasting his time being faithful to God in his way of life. Trying to living in harmony with God’s will has left him where his life feels plagued. He feels punished for doing right. Why stay in relationship with God if this is the outcome? Thankfully, he realizes that he would betray his with-God community if he took action on these frustrated feelings. (vs. 15).

Asaph was overwhelmed by the hardness of his with-God life in the face of the apparent trouble-free ease of those who sniffed their nose at God. How will he gain some perspective? Where will he find wisdom? How will he make his way through such a place? When life doesn’t seem fair, when God’s good people suffer and wicked people seem to succeed, the only place to find perspective is in the presence of God (17). In God’s presence, I see with eternal eyes. I see those living in disregard of God in His presence as well, but not standing in His favor.

Like Asaph, I will feel grieved at heart and embittered in spirit (21) in the face of such temporary unfairness. I may respond to such hardship like a brute beast, ignorant and senseless (22).

I’m invited to remember the presence of God. I’m show that I am always with God and God is always with me. I am faithfully held on to in God’s gracious favor (23) and guided by perfect and wise direction (24a). My end, unlike the desperate end of the without-God one, is in the presence of God’s glory (24b).

Rather than letting my grief embitter me as I seek to remain in God in the hard places, I can recognize the lasting reality that only God can truly, deeply satisfy me to the depths of my being (25). The ways the world around me tries to satisfy the soul aren’t enough for me. This is a reality I must face and a choice I must make. My heart and my body may be weak, but God is my strength in all of this (26a). He is my portion—all that I need (26b). What is truly best for me is the simple nearness of God. (28). God is my refuge.

When I find myself in dry places, I often feel tempted to envy the what I see as a life of ease for others around me. God, help me remember that the dryness is helping me remember that nothing in creation is big enough to satisfy my soul. Being near You is my only source of true satisfaction. 

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Dealing with Stray Thoughts

13 01 2012

What do I do with anxious, lustful or other unwelcome thoughts that surface when I’m praying, or worshiping, or somehow trying to offer God my attention?

In Listening at Prayer (p. 78), Benedict Groeschel suggests that “By allowing the real issues of the interior life–our emotions, needs, conflicts, joys, and sorrows–to surface in His presence we may be able to make our Savior’s words operative in our own lives.” He reminds me of that as I “try to grasp one of these thoughts and look at it in the presence of Christ who seeks my sanctification more than I can ever imagine (77).”

He offers the specific illustration of fear: “Perhaps the distracting thought is a fear that has been troubling me. Silently I present it to my Savior, who overcame the fear of the Cross. I share my fear with him in silence…. In ways that human words are not able to express He reminds me that He once lived in this world, that He experienced these things Himself, or saw His friends and disciples struggle with them.”

Jesus, do you really understand my fears? Will you enable me to live above them in the powerful love of the Father that overcomes fear? I cannot overcome these deep struggles and conflicts alone. Only You can help me overcome them. As I am silent now in Your presence, I feel those fears rising above the surface before You. May I feel Your acceptance, Your forgiveness, Your empowering now.

When you encountered strangers, You saw them through eyes of love. Love empowered you to give something to the strangers you met. May I find the same resource operating in me. May Your love replace my fears and worries. There are still many places where there is much too much of me and not enough of You, Jesus.

I’m never more bold and courageous than when I remembering deeply that You are with me and for me. To Joshua You said, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go (1:9).” The only way that I can obey a command to “not be afraid” is by reflecting on and remembering the reality of Who God is and that He is actually with me. He has graciously come to my side. He is seeking my good and my progress. He desires to make me the best person I can be for His praise.

Thank You, Father. When I am afraid, it is a sure sign that there are some ways that I have failed to fully comprehend the reality of Your gracious presence with me. Help me to become more and more aware that You truly are with me. I am never alone. You are always with me. I do not need to fear because fear is not reflective of reality.

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The Problem of Functional Atheism

11 03 2010

I had a great day away yesterday at St. Andrew’s Abbey in Valyermo, CA. It was a treat to arrive in time for 7:30am morning prayer in community. A friend and I spent until midafternoon on the grounds. My heart and mind unwound, and I was able to be more attentive to God’s presence with me. On that theme, I came across this insight from Gerald May’s book Dark Night of the Soul:

“At worst, we give lip service to God’s presence, but then feel and act as if we were completely on our own. I think of church committee meetings, pastoral counseling sessions, or even spiritual direction meetings I have attended. They often begin with a sincere prayer, “God, be with us (as if God might be in attendance at another meeting) and guide our decisions and our actions.” Then at the end comes, “Amen,” and the door crashes shut on God-attentiveness. Now we have said our prayers and it is time to get down to business. The modern educator Parker Palmer calls this “functional atheism. . . the belief that ultimate responsibility for everything rests with me .” (Gerald G. May, M.D. Dark Night of the Soul. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004, p. 44.)

Ouch. How much functional atheism is there in my life still? Where in my life do I assume that God isn’t interested (or worse, not even welcome)? One of the core values of The Leadership Institute is something we call “The One-Third Rule.” Whenever we have leadership of a meeting, a gathering, a conference, whatever, we design the time so that at least one-third of the time is actual engagement in spiritual disciplines, or practices of community or mission. Not included in this one-third is talking about and teaching about these disciplines or practices. We seek to set aside sufficient space in meetings like May describes so as to be deeply attentive to God throughout the gathering. We want to avoid mere nominal recognition of God as a clearly unimportant initial element that we quickly move beyond.

For example, when we “open a meeting in prayer,” how open are we really if the prayer takes two minutes and the meeting takes two hours? To what degree do we actually expect and trust that God is with us in that meeting? What evidences of the fruit of His Spirit are there in our interactions and our shared life?

“Ultimate responsibility for everything rests with me.” This is Parker Palmer’s definition of functional atheism. Christians who believe in Christ may live, though, as if He were a million miles and a thousand years away. How would my life be different right now, or this week, or in this season, if I more truly believed that, by His Spirit, Christ is making Himself more and more at home in my heart?

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Psalms: Resting in the Eye of a Hurricane

20 11 2009

IMG_2784In August, I had the treat of leading a church family retreat just off Lake Michigan. On the first morning, in preparation for about a hour of solitude and silence with God (a new experience for most of this group), I spoke from Psalm 48. One of the ways I like to prepare for such a talk is to read, reflect and write insights I gain in listening to a psalm for myself first, then for the group to whom I’ll be speaking.

Here are some of the insights I listed in my preparation. Perhaps they will help you enjoy Psalm 48 a bit more. (The numbers are verse references).

 

  • 1, 7, 11 – God’s presence is a continuing theme. (1 – ever-present help, 7 & 11 – Lord Almighty is with us.)
  • God is our refuge (1) and fortress (7, 11). He’s safe. He protects me.
  • “God with us” is a thread throughout (1, 4-5, 7, 11). Sometimes, it takes being still to remember that God is always with us, especially when it doesn’t feel that way.
  • 2 – Overcoming fear happens when we deeply remember that God is always with us, that He’s a safe place to be and He strengthens us to have courage and stand (2-3).
  • (2) Mountains fall and kingdoms fall (6), but with God in our lives, we will not fall (5).
  • This psalm shows the power of nature (2-3), but also God’s power over nature (6b); the power of nations (6a), but also God’s power over nations (9). Human kingdoms are insecure (6a), but in the Lord we find security and refuge (1).
  • 3, 7, 11 – We tend to skip the word “Selah” when we read psalms. In the context of a retreat getaway, we would do well to remember that “selah” may have been musical notation making space for instruments to play. This is why we can see “Selah” as an invitation to reflect, to meditate, to let these good words from God sink in.
  • 3-4 – There is a dramatic contrast between the raging waters that threaten and the river whose streams bring joy to God’s city/God’s people.
  • 4 – There really is a river. Read Ezekiel 47:1-12. Also John 7:38 – “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”
  • 4 – Maybe the “river whose streams make glad” is an echo of the river in Eden that had four streams flowing from it (Gen. 2:10-14).
  • 5b – As our day begins on this retreat, God is among us, with us, even in us. He will help us as day has broken.
  • 6 – Situations that would overwhelm us (nations flexing their muscles against each other, attacking and destroying each other) takes only a word from God to be melted!
  • 7, 11 – “the God of Jacob” – not just a “today” God, but a God of many generations, of our fathers and their fathers. He’s been with us a very long time!
  • 9 – God destroys weapons others would use to harm me (or that I might use to harm them).
  • 10 – God’s “will” – When God says “I will”, He really will!
  • 10 – One commentator suggests here, “Relax, and know that I am God.” When I hear “know that I am God,” I might be tempted to say, “I’ve been a Christian for over 30 years. Of course I know that God is God.” But the fact is that my anxieties and my fears are evidence that sometimes I forget!
  • There is an extreme contrast in God’s invitation to “be still and know” in the midst of earthquakes (2a, 3b), landslides (2b) crashing waves (3a), international conflict (6), violent political regime changes (6a), and wars (9). We can learn to be still and know He is God, even in the midst of chaos! We don’t have to wait for a serene, calm place to do it!! (Good news in severe economic times)




Do I Know What I Don’t Know?

7 11 2009

IMG_7372“…the wrong kind of ignorance is the conviction that we can know exactly what is going on. Those who have too many programs and answers are absolutely blind and their ignorance leads them to destruction. Those who know what they do not know are able at least to see something of what is in front of their nose.” (Thomas Merton. Courage For Truth. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1993, p. 198)

There is a kind of certainty that is limiting instead of freeing. There are plans that assume at a practical level that God will not be intervening any time soon. Do ministries design meetings, services or gatherings that assume God has no likely intention of showing Himself or working among us? Does every gathering run, minute-by-minute, exactly the way we planned it? Is this a good thing? Just questions I ask myself.

And what Merton says about answers and programs hits home. Programs can drift towards becoming self-contained systems. Programs and systems usually seek to eliminate surprises, give standardized answers to all possible questions, and leave us with a process that runs on its own. Is this really what Jesus’ way was like? Wasn’t he continually surprising people? Doesn’t the life of the Spirit involve a certain amount of unpredictability (Consider John 3:8, for example)?

At the same time, I recognize the obvious need for godly processes and methods that can be learned and practiced so that we aren’t starting from scratch at every moment of our life. Do I really have to think again and again about how to brush my teeth? This is where spiritual disciplines and practices help train us in holy and lifegiving habits.

What responses or questions does all this provoke in you? I’d love to interact further with you.

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Psalm 42: Thirsty For God (Part Two)

8 09 2009

IMG_8874Continuing from [a recent post], here are some more thoughts on Psalm 42:

[3]My tears have been my bread day and night, •
while all day long they say to me, ‘Where is now your God?’

How are tears my bread? Do tears somehow feed me? Do I cry instead of eating? The psalm writer has tears for food in his felt experience of dryness (vss. 1-2), while unbelievers around him ridicule him for trusting an apparently absent God.

[4]Now when I think on these things, I pour out my soul: •
how I went with the multitude
[5]and led the procession to the house of God,
With the voice of praise and thanksgiving, •
among those who kept holy day.

My journal, perhaps like this psalm, is my place to pour out my soul. I remember times past when I shared a obvious, felt sense of God’s presence with the crowds. More often I feel no drama. Is it loneliness or solitude? Loneliness is empty and isolated. Solitude is holy seclusion with Another. I’ve led people into God’s presence. How do I continue to trust His real Presence when I don’t as often feel Him near?

[6] Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul, •
and why are you so disquieted within me?

A heavy soul. That’s what that feeling in my chest is. Why so heavy, soul? Why are you carrying the weight of the world around? Instead of carrying that weight, pour out your soul. There is nothing in you that is not safe to pour out before a loving, merciful, gracious Father.

A disquieted soul. Instead of peace there is noise in my soul. I am hungry to know deep peace in my innermost self. This will come through honesty, trust and openness to God and trusted others.





Psalm 42: Thirsty For God (Part One)

6 09 2009

img_2015I’ve been grateful for the psalms. Since my training in spiritual direction at the Pecos Benedictine Abbey, I’ve found great encouragement and help in praying the psalms as I start my day. One of my favorites is Psalm 42.

As the deer longs for the water brooks,
so longs my soul for you, O God.
My soul is athirst for God, even for the living God;
when shall I come before the presence of God?

When a deer is thirsty, it searches for the fresh, flowing water of a nearby brook. It wants living water—fresh water. In the same way, my soul is thirsty for a fresh encounter with the Living God.

When I feel thirsty, I feel need. I don’t yet have what I need. There is an emptiness that needs to be filled. My soul needs God like my body needs water. He is basic to my life. God isn’t an optional enhancement I might consider (alongside exercise, healthy eating or such). He is my life. Without Him, I am not really alive.

The psalm asks, “When shall I come before the presence of God?” When will I enjoy an intimate audience with the Almighty? What about now?





A Good Word: The Grace-Gift of Repentance

3 08 2009

IMG_6168“[Repentance] must be done by the work of God, the work of grace. It is a divine gift. But if the gift be rare, it is not because of any [stinginess] on the part of an infinitely liberal God. It is because of our fear, our blindness, our ignorance, our hatred of risk. For after all, in order to make this leap out of ourselves we have to be willing to let go of everything that is our own–all our own plans, all our own hesitations, all our own judgments. That does not mean that we give up thinking and acting: but that we are ready for any change that God’s action may make in our lives.” (Thomas Merton. The New Man. New York: The Noonday Press, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1961, p. 126-127)

To what degree do you see repentance as something you make happen for God, or as a gift from God you can wholeheartedly receive from Him?

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A Good Word: Prayer When the Path is Dark

10 06 2009

In the excerpts below from Emilie Griffin’s book, Clinging, she talks about times when our experience of prayer goes dark. We faithfully pray, but sense no response from God. We look for light for our path, but see only darkness ahead.

“Darkness comes to deepen our prayer and to strengthen us. But God does this not all at once and not by seeming to. This experience is different from any other, akin to pain but not like pain because it has no sharp edges. It is the bleakness of grief without any object of grief. No one has died, nothing is lost to us, except perhaps a vision we once had and were clinging to, instead of God himself. Now God, still present, takes His presence from us and we experience nothing. And we live with that.” (Emilie Griffin, Clinging. New York: McCracken Press, 1994, p. 37)

“Trust and faith are the only companions for darkness, a walk that doesn’t feel like a journey because there is no sense of going anywhere.” (p. 38)

Darkness is one foot in front of another. It is ‘most men lead lives of quiet desperation’ lived in trust. It is doing what comes to hand without feeling or seeing the grace by which it is to be done.” (p. 40)

When have you perhaps walked through darker seasons in your conversation with God? How have you responded in those times? How might God be inviting you to a little more naked version of trust than you’ve experienced before?

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What If I Don’t Feel Like It?

7 06 2009

One arena of spiritual experience that the classic ministry of spiritual direction often speaks to is the loss of the felt experience of God. I’ve continued to appreciate the wise counsel of Abbé de Tourville here:

“Consolations and sensible desire are only means for training the will and forming permanent habits. As soon as the will is fixed, consolations and sensible enthusiasm become mere luxuries and we can wait for them with the more patience.” (Abbé Henri de Tourville. Letters of Direction. Harrisburg: Morehouse Publishing, 1939, 2001, p. 81.)

This perspective on the loss of God’s felt comfort and felt presence is a very foreign one among most Christians today. We tend to design gatherings to maximize dramatic experience. Abbé Henri suggests that God gives spiritual pleasure and felt motivation primarily to help us develop godly rhythms and intentions (what he calls “a fixed will”). When these grow steady, God may withdraw these consolations so that we trust and offer ourselves to Him without the felt reward of them.

A simple contemporary illustration of this comes as we compare the quality of love of a honeymoon couple and that of a couple still happily married 25 years later. (We just had our 24th anniversary, so I just can’t speak yet from experience!) Honeymoon love is often full of many wonderful romantic feelings, but may be mostly untested. After 25 years of growing in love, there will have been many moments when love has been offered without any apparent inspiration and without the help of a felt reward.

The writer goes on to say:

“Do not be distressed by lack of fervour and consolations. These will come in their own time and their own way. Our Lord wants you to become mature, and maturity needs these periods of obscurity, of disillusionment and boredom. Maturity comes when we have at last realized that we must love our Lord simply and freely in spite of our own…unworthiness and of the unworthiness of nearly everything around us. Then a new a lasting Incarnation of our Lord takes place in our souls, as it were. He begins to live a new life within us in the very midst of the misery of the world.” (p. 85-86.)

As God seeks to deepen and mature our love for Him, He may remove felt zeal and devotion at times. Maturity learns now to live not always getting what we want, when we want it and how we want it. Maturity learns to wait. Maturity is patient. Maturity is less naïve and easily deceived. Mature believers learn to live faithfully even when “they don’t feel like it.”

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