Staggering into Mercy

I will sing of faithfulness and justice; I will chant a hymn to you, O Lord. Psalm 101 (from the Jewish Publication Society translation of the TANAKH)

When I was in college, I was taking a science class of one sort or another – I forget if it was Biology or Oceanography – but I was taking a class where the professor  was talking about the balance of nature and then, suddenly, stopped. He stumbled forward as if falling, catching himself on the edge of a nearby desk. After a moment, as he beheld the class holding its collective breath, our professor stood up ramrod straight and said, “There is no balance of nature.  Predators eat up the prey, and when the prey disappear,  you get an overabundance of predators, so they starve for lack of prey, which then bounce back for lack of predators, and nature cycles up and down like that. Nature is always in a state of imbalance!”

Me too. I stepped out of the shower the other day and noticed a fairly decent-sized bruise on my forearm. I didn’t remember doing anything to injure myself, but I did recall stumbling through an open doorway, so I’m sure that’s when it happened. I don’t drink or do drugs, so I know I wasn’t lolling about the house like a beached Beluga waiting for the tide to come get me. I am convinced the home’s portals expand and contract with the weather, and I just happened to catch the doorpost while it was on the squeeze.

Speaking of imbalance, I was reading the psalm quoted atop this column and discovered that the word translated “faithfulness” there is rendered “mercy” by some translators, and “loving-kindness” by still others. I’ve learned that when there’s a discrepancy like that, either the Hebrew original is unclear, or it is far too rich to be condensed into one English word. The fascinating point, though, is that the psalmist doesn’t identify whose faithfulness (or mercy) and justice are being sung about. Is it his, or is it God’s? 

A cursory glance reveals a very egocentric song. It is almost an ode to the author’s own goodness and holiness: “I will sing a song … I will study the way of the blameless … I will live without blame … I will not look at anything base … I will know nothing of evil …” and finally, “... I will destroy all the wicked of the land ... etc.” Being a psalm of David, that seems a pretty daring claim coming from one who is both an adulterer and a murderer.

When I was a young lad, I’d get excited at the idea of God smiting bad people. There was Noah and the flood, Moses versus the Egyptians, David and Goliath, not to mention all the smitings in the books of Judges, Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles. I would have revised Luther’s tune: A Smighty [sic] Fortress is our God. I loved the idea of God as Zeus or Thor (only bigger and badder). 

As I matured, though, I began to notice that Jesus never smited* anybody (although he did get a little rough on the money-changers). James and John never smited anyone (although they wanted to, at least once – Jesus told them that wasn’t their call to make). Peter never went on a smiting tour. Neither did Paul and Silas (although Paul was a smiter before his conversion). If God was addicted to smiting, then Jesus was “God, a smite-o-holic in recovery!”

The psalmist comes across as though he’s “tough on crime,” but he’s missing something immensely important. The mercy, loving-kindness, and faithfulness of which he should be singing is God’s! Humans lost Eden because we wanted to be like gods, knowing good and evil, right and wrong. Humans are home-sick for Eden, and it turns out the way home is not through Smite Alley, but Highway One: The Mercy Highway. 

Maybe God’s way was once a tollway, but now it’s a freeway. God doesn’t collect a toll; God’s paid the toll in full – out of God’s Treasury of Mercy! That’s why I choose to chant this hymn, rejoicing in the faithfulness and justice of God here in this, our valley.

* Note: The proper word is “smote” (past tense of smite), but the author is exercising poetic license here and throughout the paragraph.

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of newly released: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

The Dangers of Gratitude

I will praise the Lord all my life, sing hymns to my God while I exist. Psalm 146 (from the Jewish Publication Society translation of the TANAKH)

November is Gratitude Month. We cap it off near the end with Thanksgiving, but each day we’re invited to take a moment and consider who or what we are thankful for. Who are the people who helped us become the people we are? What are the events that helped shape our lives? What are the challenges that compelled us to grow up and/or do what we thought was impossible?

While the psalmists in the Bible can often be found weeping, wailing, and crying in their beer, bemoaning one catastrophe or another, or lamenting some revolting development du jour, we find they’re also capable of rising out of the ashes in joyful praise. We don’t know what’s happening around the psalmist, precisely, but we can imagine it’s something wonderful. Perhaps he is among those who have found out they’re leaving captivity and going home. Perhaps the chains of a debilitating illness have been smashed asunder and he or she is finding health and strength returning to body and limb.

Only those who have known great hardship or deepest darkness know what it’s like to see the dawn break or the pressures ease up. Just writing those lines, I hear the voice of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King rising above the crowds before him: Free at last! Free at Last! Thank God almighty, we’re free at last!

Having received vaccines for both the seasonal flu and Covid-19, I must confess I rejoice in doing what I can to keep myself, my neighbors, and my community safe. I received some new and improved masks to replace those a fellow parishioner had made “back in the beginning.” They were wonderfully and lovingly made, and proudly worn, but wear and tear were taking their toll. My new masks come with lanyards that allow me to wear the mask like an amulet over my heart, and when entering public space, pull it up and over my face and nose (without wondering where it is or if I have it). I praise the Lord with my whole being!

I say that because, if you continue reading the psalm, it becomes clear that praise and hymn singing aren’t simply a quick turn of phrase. Anyone can say “Thank you, God.” We do it all the time. In fact, every time I pass a police car and see it isn’t turning around in my side-view mirror, I offer up a quick prayer of thanks to the Almighty – our celestial Peace Officer!

No, for the psalmist, praise, thanksgiving, and hymns of joy are translated into acts of mercy. Those who are thankful provide justice for the oppressed and food to those who hunger. They set prisoners free. They lift up those who are bowed down. They care for the stranger. They make sure widows and orphans are supported in their distress. They act as a shield against those who would do harm. That’s what the psalmist is talking about: a God who transforms the world through people whose backbone is Thanksgiving. Gratitude is the backbone, not the wishbone, of faith.

It is easier said than done, of course. It is easy to say, “I’m all in favor of justice, taking care of people, and being kind to strangers.” Saying it is one thing; doing it is quite another. What is your attitude toward America’s 2.3 million prisoners? Do you want them released? What is your attitude toward people whose first language isn’t English? Do you welcome them with open arms and joy, or do you assume they don’t belong?

I should note here that Gratitude does not mean we turn a blind eye to danger or behave with foolish, empty-headed naivete. It does mean, however, that were called to see the world and every person in it through God’s eyes, and work with God to transform the world the way Jesus said it must be done, or we can close our hearts, minds, and eyes with fear, and let life to continue its slide towards perdition.

I detest fear. I choose to live in Gratitude and Grace here in this, our valley. I hope you’ll join me (and the psalmist).

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of newly released: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)