Looking for the Face of God

 

Today my lectio divina and Psalm prayers collided. I am pondering the space between these paradoxical contradictions.

 

In the lectionary for Sunday from the Hebrew Scriptures in Exodus 33:12-23, Moses asks to see the Lord’s glory, to which the Lord replied (vv. 20, 23).

“You cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live. … Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”

 

In the anthropomorphic imagery in this account, God almost seems to be a giant supernatural being who hides Moses behind an oversize hand until he can turn away and let Moses see his backside, almost a cosmic mooning.

 

After contemplating this, I came to Psalm 17 in my Psalm prayer rotation to find this in verse 15.

“As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness.”

 

A number of Psalms speak of looking at the face of God, but this juxtaposition today prompted me to probe my contemplative yearning for a glimpse of God. I am not seeking a logical explanation to make rational sense of the paradox. Rather I am gazing into the space between for something more mysterious.

God's Voice Roaring Today

I think of my monthly journey through the Psalms as prayer in the sense that they prompt my conversation with God. Many of the Psalms are cast directly as prayer but many might also be considered to be pondering of the Psalmists' side of these conversations with God. Only occasionally do the Psalms record God speaking directly.

However, this morning when I came to Psalm 75 (as I do the 15th of each month) God's words stood out as addressing our present realities in which we are living not only with the most expansive pandemic of our lifetimes but considerable contentiousness about how to respond to it, with reenergized pursuit of racial justice and an increasingly vocal pushback against it, catastrophic climatological crises from hurricanes to wild fires, all in what seems to me to be the most vicious political season of my lifetime. Against this backdrop, God's words in vv. 2-5 roared.

At the set time that I appoint I will judge with equity. When the earth totters, with all its inhabitants, it is I who keep its pillars steady. I say to the boastful, “Do not boast,” and to the wicked, “Do not lift up your horn; do not lift up your horn on high, or speak with insolent neck.”

Justice and Peace Kiss

 With the recent renewal of pursuing racial justice, I am reminded of this from the civil rights and peace movements of the ‘60s and’70s.

            No Justice – No Peace

            Know Justice – Know Peace

It is commonly understood as an appeal for justice to achieve the goal of peace, but I believe it also expresses a profound reality of human nature, human society that is evident in all cultures through history.

 

This hope is marvelously expressed in Psalm 85:10. “Righteousness and peace will kiss each other.” I am no Hebrew scholar, so I looked up the word tsdeq which can be translated both as “righteousness” and as “justice.” This is not unique to Hebrew. I know, for example, that in Spanish the word for both righteousness and justice is justicia. Nicholas Wolterstorff explored this in his 1981 book Until Justice and Peace Embrace. So the connection could legitimately be expressed as justice and peace will kiss each other.

 

One of the hazards of our hyper-individualistic culture is that we think of righteousness in terms of personal, individual moral rectitude and miss out on the communal dimensions of righteous living that are embodied in justice. Nothing wrong with personal, individual moral rectitude, but it is only one part of biblical righteousness. Justice is essential too.

Covid-19 and the Trumps

Other than a few affirmations of some gracious responses of some friends (who have openly taken exception to Donald Trump) to the news that the Trumps have tested positive (and seem to be showing some so far mild symptoms), I have purposely refrained from commenting too quickly. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t have thoughts, which also does not mean that they contribute anything unique to anyone. Nevertheless, I feel a certain moral responsibility to be clear about my response.

 

Have you ever had an experience so miserable it prompted you to say, “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy”? For those who have dissented from Donald Trump’s words and actions, especially around the response to the coronavirus pandemic, I’m sure the temptation to gloat is alluring. I am thankful I have not seen that in my circle of those who have publically expressed their disagreements. I am also thankful that I have not seen scolding from those who have been Trump’s defenders.

 

That “worst enemy” sentiment reminds me of Jesus expectation for those who follow him to love their enemies. (Matthew 5:43-48; Luke 6:27-35, which is affirmed by Paul in Romans 12:17-21) Pretty typically, when I ponder this, I recognize an inclination to deny that I have any enemies, even among those with whom I have serious political, theological, and ethical disagreements. In my years of pastoral ministry, I did not consider those who seemed to be complainers and trouble makers to be my enemies. I tried to recognize that their concerns helped identify things that needed attention, even if not the approach they were proposing. Perhaps some of them may have regarded me as an enemy, but I sought God’s help in loving them with respect.

 

I am sure Donald Trump has no idea who I am. Might he consider me to be an enemy if he knew about my convictions? I am not going to presume that. So how do I love him in all of the turmoil of this time? Certainly not by endorsing policies with which I cannot agree. Praying? Certainly! I have written about how Psalm 72 guides my praying for all in positions of public leadership and responsibility. When it comes to praying for the sick, I don’t think James 5:14-16 is relevant (unless the Trumps wanted to call on those they might to consider to be elders of the church). As a pastor I regularly prayed for church members and others who were sick. I didn’t consider that I was telling God what to do, as though my prayers compelled God to heal. I did (and still do) express to God my love and concern for those who are ill, believing God can and does heal, but not that I have some magic power.

 

Especially when people are facing long-term, life altering healthy challenges (such as my mother’s rheumatoid arthritis) or when people are coming to the end of their lives, I invoke Psalm 31:5 to commend them into God’s hands in faith. I think that gives me a clue about how I can be praying with love for the Trumps without political contamination. Especially knowing that what happens with them affects the whole country, I can relinquish them into God’s hands trusting that God can handle this better than I can.

Strength for Our Turbulent Lives

After our evening game and pre-bedtime chores, Candy reads some daily devotionals aloud (I read the associated Scripture texts). The prayer at the end of last night's reading from "Moravian Daily Texts" seemed to be just what I needed, so I am sharing it here.

God, our refuge, you are the anchor that holds firm . When troubles of this world disturb our calm, remind us of your abiding strength in our turbulent lives. Amen.

Struggling Not to Fear as the World Changes

The passing of Ruth Bader Ginsburg dramatically amplifies the intensity of the months just ahead of us. The incentive to vote has magnified exponentially regardless of political or theological perspectives on the events and issues of 2020. When I saw this news last evening I was immediately immersed in the imagery of Psalm 46. However, still this morning I confess I am struggling to relinquish fear into the refuge of God’s strength and to be still enough to know and exalt in the Lord of hosts who is with us.

 

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns.

The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Come, behold the works of the Lord; see what desolations he has brought on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire.

“Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.”

The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.

 

Contemplative Reflections on September 11, 2020

Sien with Child on Her Lap

Vincent VanGogh

I sang "For All the Saints" as my lauds hymn this morning. It just came up in my usual rotation but seemed poignantly appropriate on this September 11. If you are not familiar with it, I suggest looking it up on line or even in a hymnal.

Judging from my Facebook and today's news feeds, people are well remembering the horror of 9-11-01. Those who think it may be fading need not fear. Of course, the fresh, raw emotions of 19 years ago have taken melancholy root in our hearts and minds. And for today's college students who were preschoolers at the time and for today's high school students and younger who were not even born yet, this is a significant landmark in history but not a personal experience.

As we who aspire to follow Jesus remember, I trust we will do so in keeping with his clear teaching to love not just our neighbors (yes, our Muslim neighbors) but even our enemies. Matthew 5:43-48 In this way, we reflect the light of Jesus into our world in this time of considerable darkness.

This morning I began my Psalm prayers with Psalm 11. Though I don't recall seeing it recently, for years I have seen and heard people rip verse 3 out of context to bemoan their feeling of helpless desperation at social, cultural, and political changes they find threatening. "If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?"

Nevertheless, I see and hear plenty of that in the emotional reactions in our current contentious environment. It is increasingly invoked in the political noise warning that if the side I disagree with wins, it will be the demise of democracy in the US. I do believe this is a critically important election and that the outcome will make a significant difference in the trajectory for the country (and even the world). I do have my own convictions of which many of you are probably aware, but I am not including them here in hopes of prompting thoughtful, hopeful prayer rather than distracting arguing.

The entirety of the Psalm is not a woeful lament about the irreparable loss of foundations which even the righteous cannot rescue. Rather, it is a resounding affirmation of trusting that God is alive and at work from God's holy temple. It calls out the faithlessness of those who are mired in verses 1-3. It is both an appeal to trust God when our limited perspectives leave us feeling hopeless and it invokes God's justice and the promise of seeing God's face.

My Psalm prayers ended with Psalm 131 with an assurance I definitely needed today. When events and the fear-filled clamber draw my heart into trembling, I can. as it were, climb up on God's lap and quiet my soul like a young child with its mother.