Psalm 27 v 1-12, 18
1 The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear? *
the Lord is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?
2 When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, *
it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who
stumbled and fell.
3 Though an army should encamp against me, *
yet my heart shall not be afraid;
4 And though war should rise up against me, *
yet will I put my trust in him.
5 One thing have I asked of the Lord;
one thing I seek; *
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life;
6 To behold the fair beauty of the Lord *
and to seek him in his temple.
7 For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe
in his shelter; *
he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling
and set me high upon a rock.
8 Even now he lifts up my head *
above my enemies round about me.
9 Therefore I will offer in his dwelling an oblation
with sounds of great gladness; *
I will sing and make music to the Lord.
10 Hearken to my voice, O Lord, when I call; *
have mercy on me and answer me.
11 You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." *
Your face, Lord, will I seek.
12 Hide not your face from me, *
nor turn away your servant in displeasure.
18 O tarry and await the Lord's pleasure;
be strong, and he shall comfort your heart; *
wait patiently for the Lord.
Reflection How do we breathe beneath the threat of nuclear disaster? How do we stand in the ashes of bombed homes and hospitals? How do we to live with our heads above ground and our hearts unbound when images of disaster bombard us? How do we trust the premise that there is a solution to every problem if only the people at the top “get it right?”
I don’t know. Which is why I turn to the psalms, ancient scripts for how we humans navigate the unbearable. When the gravel in my belly grinds with fear of nuclear disaster I borrow the psalmists words, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?” When images of mangled buildings and injured babies follow me to bed and bombard my dreams, I lean into the Israelite’s song, “Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid…”
When I am tempted to bury my head in the sand; taking a pill, making a purchase or planning another adventure vacation, I recall to heart the promise, “Even now (God) lifts up my head above my enemies round about me… And though war should rise up against me, yet will I put my trust in him.” And there we have it.
For as long as we put our trust in the presumptive people at the top “to get it right,” we miscarry the war laden moment by failing to allow God’s mystery to unfold within us. But when we choose to put our heads in our hearts, there we “behold the beauty of our Lord,” tasting peace in the promise, “For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe in his shelter; he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling and set me high upon a rock.”
This is not wishful thinking nor magical intervention. Washed in the river of our tears and hidden beneath the rubble of our fears we hear, “You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." Your face, Lord, will I seek. Hide not your face from me, nor turn away your servant in displeasure.” The voiceless voice of the only One in whom we dare put our trust and find our peace calls us from the inside to be transformed into the peace that is not contingent upon the rampant wiles of circumstance and unholy men.
Therefore, even though we find ourselves short of breath beneath the threat of nuclear disaster and squirming in the ashes of bombed homes and hospitals, we put our heads into our hearts and offer God “an oblation with sounds of great gladness…” because nothing can annihilate the peace we find in God. Nothing can touch us where I AM.
If you find this post to be meaningful please share by clicking on icons below. Thank you.
