Sunday 9 February 2014

Psalm 131



If we are looking for a psalm that’s got a bit of guidance, a bit of reassurance, and a bit of challenge, then I think we could accept Psalm 131 as a contender.  We live in a world where we are always being encouraged to try for something better, whether it is a better car, a tastier meal, a more compelling fragrance, more advanced technology or whatever, and we are effectively told that we need these things.  We live in a world of noise and speed.  We live in a world where, though many are flushed with over-confidence, many others plunge the depths of hopelessness and despair.  How do we function in such a world?  How should we function in such a world?  I want to suggest that I think this psalm will help us to get our perspective right.
G A F Knight describes this psalm as “a beautiful short meditation going to the heart of a human being’s reliance upon the God of love.”  Walter Brueggemann describes it as “a remarkable domestic metaphor” making “a stunning theological affirmation about the proper ordering of life.”  Brueggemann goes on to say: “If Psalm 131 were taken as the whole of our relationship with God, one might judge it to be naïve and romantic.  Without taking it for the whole statement, it does provide for us a remarkable metaphor for some dimensions of faithful living that are lost in many of our other images for our relationship with God.” 
We will explore that further, but let’s begin by getting a little bit of context.  It is commonly thought that this would be one of the songs that pilgrims sang as they made their way to the place of worship.  Thus, The Message lists it as ‘a pilgrim song’ and the NIV as ‘a song of ascents’.  Traditionally it has been ascribed to David, but most recent commentators suggest that the author is probably a woman because of the imagery that is used.  If it is not actually written by a woman, it is suggested that a woman is certainly being quoted.  As one commentator says: “The gentle words of Psalm 131 create a powerful image for relationship with God.”[1]  And that is why I have chosen this passage – because I think it says a lot that is helpful about our relationship with God.
Verse 1.  The psalm begins with a clear statement of humility.  Surely that is how we should approach God.  When we think about it, we know that well – but it is worth reminding ourselves just how counter-cultural such an approach is.  The way of the world is a way of grabbing position and status.  The psalmist here reminds herself of how much she needs God.  What is depicted is what might be described as “an attitude of grateful submission”.[2]  As Brueggemann puts it: “It is not a relationship between equals, but is one of subordination, submission, trust, which this speaker gladly accepts.”
It is key to our faith that God values us – we are important.  And I think that is recognised in the very possibility of this approach.  If the psalmist didn’t matter to God, she would not be able to approach him.  God provides us with a refuge, a safe place, and that allows us to take up the possibility of going into the unknown.  We may, for example, draw a parallel with the story of Jacob wrestling.  Like the psalmist, Jacob is wondering who God is – but, unlike the psalmist’s reflective approach, Jacob find himself engaging in a very active response.
In verse 2 we have rather a picture of contentment and peace.  This would seem to suggest that the humble approach has not come because of oppression or degradation.  One way of making folk crawl is to humiliate them but, though the root of the words is the same, this humble approach does not stem from being humiliated.  Indeed, the picture that is given is one of tender intimacy.  We see a weaned child with its mother and, as has been said, “We can almost feel the child snuggling into that calming embrace.”[3]  A child doesn’t understand why he or she feels safe, but that is how it is.  Brueggemann sees this verse as “an affirmation of serenity and well-being from one who trusts in God’s motherly care.”  We have already talked about the refuge, the safe place, in connection with verse 1.  Here it is.  This word picture offers a strong image of safety, allowing us to see ourselves as “humble, trusting recipients of God’s abundant grace.”[4]  We have also mentioned how this psalm can be seen as a pilgrim song, sung on the way to worship.  In worship we need to recognise, as verse 1 does, how awesome God is.  But we need also to recognise, as verse 2, how God cares for us as tenderly as a mother cares for her child.
Verse 3 identifies Israel as the trusting child and encourages us to hope in the Lord.  Some commentators think that verse 3 is a later addition, and that the original psalm simply consisted of the first two verses.  Whether that is true or not, it is certainly the case that what we have is an encouragement or exhortation that could fit many contexts.  It is certainly a timely reminder that waiting on God, hoping in God, is the way ahead to which we are challenged.  And, as one commentator puts it: “our task here on earth is not to give easy answers or quick fixes, but to follow on the way.”[5]  The reason for the humility reflected in verse 2 is to encourage the listener to wait for God.  And that point is emphasised as we look back and take note of the fact that the psalmist compares the devout worshipper to a child, even though in that time children would be, at least, ignored, and quite possibly oppressed.  There are echoes, of course, picked up by Jesus when he talks about being like children.  It is also interesting that, in this relatively early passage, the work of mothering is compared to the work of God.  Brueggemann says: “Israel is able to hope and to receive good gifts from this feeding God.”


[1] April Berends – Feasting on the Word
[2] Alan Palmer & Debra Reid – Crossway commentary
[3] Lisa M Wolfe – Feasting on the Word
[4] April Berends – Feasting on the Word
[5] Michael B Curry – Feasting on the Word

Monday 20 January 2014

Andrew's Story - John 1:25-39



It was exciting being one of John’s team.  The crowds used to call him the Baptiser.  That’s how he got his reputation – by encouraging people to get baptised as an indication that they knew they had gone wrong.  Baptising them was John’s way of saying that God forgave them.  We used to joke that it was always wet around John.  Certainly he was never happier than when he was in the river with people trooping in to be ducked under and claiming God’s forgiveness.  We were a bit like John’s bouncers.  We used to keep order – make sure he didn’t get rushed.  We also used to watch out for troublemakers, both the religious-toff-kind and the let’s-have-a-laugh-by-causing-trouble-kind.

They were good times.  We got on well.  You knew where you were with John.  We couldn’t imagine him not wanting us around.  Then, one day, he pointed out his cousin.  Jesus just happened to be walking by.  John didn’t miss a beat.  He just told us that if we wanted to get to know someone really special we ought to take a look at Jesus.  He said that Jesus was the one who God had marked out for something quite unique.  He called him the ‘Lamb of God’.  That seemed a bit strange.  Sheep are smelly, dirty creatures best left out on the hills.  Normally we only came across lambs when they were on our dinner plate, smothered in gravy and with a few nice vegetables.  That didn’t happen very often.  It was too expensive.  The only other place for lambs was as a sacrifice.

But John was clearly suggesting that we ought to check in with Jesus.  We hesitated for a moment in case John was just trying to get rid of us – but it quickly became obvious: not so.  John wanted us to have this new experience which was more than he could offer.

Well, of course I didn’t want Simon to miss out, so I rushed off to find him first.  Then it was all systems go on following Jesus.

At the beginning we just hung around to see what was happening.  Jesus noticed what was going on and asked us what we were looking for.  We didn’t know how to answer that, so we just asked him where he was staying.

He invited us to go and see, so we did and, as you know, the rest is now history.

Written at St. Beuno’s, 5/7/11.