Living the Psalms

"But as for me, I will wait and hope continually, and will praise You yet more and more." (Psalm 71:14, Amplified)

C.S. Lewis once said, “The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to express the same delight in God which made David dance.”

And that is true.

Until you don’t feel like dancing, so then what?

The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to remember that it is OK and a good thing to be real before God, even when you don’t feel like dancing.

Down through the ages, the psalmists testify:

Real worship is not turning a blind eye to reality.

It is not dancing or singing or clapping based on “feeling it” or Sunday morning routine.

Because people can be mean. Life can be hard. Injustice can seem to be winning at every corner.

But as with the psalmists, for every:

“Why me?”

“This isn’t fair.”

“I’ve been following You and now this happens?”
“What they’re saying isn’t true, not even close.”

“They say one thing but do another—don’t You see that!?”

“I’m dying here, where are You?”

…Real worship is when Light suddenly breaks through the darkness.

And you follow it.

God never gets into a Q&A.

Over and over again, He simply, lovingly stirs within a reminder of what and Who is True and what truly matters:

“But I will keep hope alive,

    and my praise to You will grow exponentially.

I will bear witness to Your merciful acts;

    throughout the day I will speak of all the ways You deliver,

    although, I admit, I do not know the entirety of either.

I will come with stories of Your great acts, my Lord, the Eternal.

    I will remind them of Your justice, only Yours.

You have taught me since I was young, O God,

    and I still proclaim the wonderful things You have done.”

—Psalm 71:14-17, The Voice

Real worship, the psalmists remind us, is acknowledging the roar but then running to the Rock of refuge.

It is dancing on injustice.

It is shouting “Faithful and True!”

It is clapping with Heaven’s rhythm to break dark things that need to be broken.

It is singing “I am a child of God” and knowing that the battle is always the Lord’s...

…Real worship is when Light suddenly breaks through the darkness. And you follow it. Even today.

Pick Up Your Tent

Photo: Cliford Mervil

“Now Moses used to take his own tent and pitch it outside the camp, far away from the camp, and he called it the tent of meeting—of God with His own people…And so the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend. When Moses returned to the camp, his attendant Joshua, the son of Nun, a young man, would not depart from the tent.”—Exodus 33: 7,11, Amplified

Sometimes, God can “show up” to us in the “tent” of church in a powerful, meaningful and intimate way, and though we’d rather stay, the “camp” of the world beckons. It would be great to be Joshua—to never have to be in a rush to leave the goodness of God’s presence. But for every Sunday when life’s demands—a job, a family reunion, the yard work that didn’t get done on Saturday because of the rain—require you and I to scoot out the door of the “tent” of church and back to the “camp” of this world to face them, there is good news in this passage.

That’s what happened with Moses. But being in the tent wasn’t a thing to check off his list. Even though he couldn’t stay, it was still his fuel for life. And the takeaway for us when life gets nuts and we have to scoot out the door of the tent is to remember and take to heart what Moses says a few verses later:

“If Your presence does not go with us,

do not send us up from here.”

It is good to remember that God’s presence is not trapped in tents or buildings. And on those Sundays when we reluctantly have to scoot, and even when we don’t, we can always take the songs, the prayers, the Word, the holy stillness and the holy roar of the tent—take them all with us into the craziness.

His Name is “God with us,” and God is and wants to be with us just as powerfully in the camp of life as He is in the tent of meeting.

Some things we can’t be reminded of enough.

“If we are to be effective in anything we do for the Lord, the Lord must be in the midst of it. Unless the Lord’s power is seen among us, we will be just another person who has religion. Unless we manifest His life to others, they will see only good behavior that is easily counterfeited by moral people.”—Os Hillman

Becoming What You Think

“You’ll always travel in the direction of your thinking.”—T.D. Jakes

The psalmist asks, “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?” Friday night, the surprising answer was, “I go with you everywhere, even to the football game, in ways that will surprise you…”

…Standing at the fence and watching the action on the field, my friend, who I often saw at breakfast downtown on Saturday mornings, asked if I was going there Sunday morning. I told him that by the time I got out of church, they would probably be closed. “Well I go there very early, when they open, before I go to church,” he replied. Suddenly, what was happening on the field went into the background—we had never had this type of conversation before. “I go to the early service because I have people to see.” Not his family or friends, but shut-ins. Every Sunday, for the past several years, my friend has shared communion with elderly saints who cannot get to church or who are all alone. Often, he discovers by the saint’s nonstop, one-way animated conversation that he was probably their first visitor of the week. “It’s incredibly rewarding, and I feel like I’m making a difference in some small way. Sometimes, those with Alzheimers don’t remember what the elements are for, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And Jesus at the football game reminded me:

Better to be the Church than just go to church.

…The final five minutes of the game were so intense, the usual away-from-the-field activities of kids running around, playing soccer or football or tag, and of older folks socializing and talking about things other than football, momentarily froze. As I turned around and looked, “uh-oh” seemed to be everyone’s expression. The home team’s seemingly safe lead was suddenly in jeopardy, and the visitors were within striking distance of the go-ahead score. One final shot with less than 10 seconds to go: A pass into the end zone, up for grabs…intercepted by the good guys. The “enemy” had been defeated, and there was joy all around. But the real story was what happened the next morning. As I passed the football field on my way to the recycling center, I let out an audible, “Wow.” Members of the same team that had been victorious 12 hours earlier were not in bed savoring the moment but were back out on the field working on improving their game. A young team in a rebuilding program was thinking like winners.

And Jesus at and after the football game reminded me:

Rejoice in your victories but never become complacent, satisfied, or go on cruise control. Press on to know Him more.

Excellence in serving the saints and those in need and in persevering on the Journey requires many things, but it begins with the right attitude and saturating your mind into overflow mode by thinking the right thoughts:

“Finally, believers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable and worthy of respect, whatever is right and confirmed by God’s word, whatever is pure and wholesome, whatever is lovely and brings peace, whatever is admirable and of good repute; if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think continually on these things—center your mind on them, and implant them in your heart.”—Philippians 4:7-9, Amplified

“You become what you think about all day long.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Deeper Still

Photo credit: Lucas Allman

“I know there is no turning back

Once my feet have left the ledge

And in the rush I hear a voice

That's telling me to take a leap of faith

So here I go

I'm diving in, I'm going deep, in over my head I want to be

Caught in the rush, lost in the flow, in over my head I want to go…”

—The Dive, Steven Curtis Chapman

I had never felt so paralyzed with fear of the unknown. I was at the edge of the deep end of the town pool, staring toward the ladder at the 4' section some 25 yards away. It might as well have been 25 miles. So long as I could touch bottom and have some control, hey, I was fine. But at 8 years old, the right-of-passage from beginner to intermediate (and remaining cool with your friends) meant diving into water wayyyyyy over your head and swimming to that ladder.

"I cannot do this....I have got to do this." Waffle, waffle, waffle.

I must have stood at the edge...ready to jump, afraid to jump, ready...for at least 15 minutes. It felt like forever. And I might still be there had it not been for my swim instructor. He did not ridicule, he did not yell. Quietly, over and over, he said:

"C'mon, you can do this—I'm right here."

And he waited, and waited, and waited without once getting impatient. Suddenly...I don't know what sent me over the edge, but the next thing I knew, I was mid-air between the cement deck and the icy, scary, deep water. Out of control, but oddly, totally at peace. The most shocking thing was not the ice-cold temperature of the water when I landed, but that I realized I was not sinking but going forward, one arm stroke and leg kick at a time. And when I arrived at that ladder, I laughed like a cool 8-year-old is supposed to: "That was awesome!" My swim instructor just nodded and smiled...

On this faith journey, it's funny how at the start of every new day you can keep running into that kid: Will I dive in to the glorious unknown and heed the call once more to “follow Me” or play it safe and stand at the edge? The kid is seen in decisions to be made during the day, the temptation to compromise in some way, the attitudes without words but that speak volumes as well as the words that come out of your mouth, the opportunities to be generous with kindness to others and in spending of free moments and money.

The flesh almost always prefers the safety and comfort of the edge of the pool where it is easy to touch and understand (and control) rather than to boldly dive deeper still into the depths of trust-and-obey-for-there's-no-other-way. Which might be one big reason why we are exhorted to "fight the good fight of faith" every single day.

And this week, some reinforcing words from a good book...

…“Most of us will only follow Christ to the point of precedence—the place where we have been before. But no further. We’re afraid of doing what we’ve never done because it’s unfamiliar territory. So we leave unclaimed the new gifts, new anointing, and new dreams that God wants to give us. If you want God to do something new, you cannot keep doing what you’ve always done. You’ve got to push past the fear of the unknown. You’ve got to do something different.
We need to step into the conflict without knowing if we can resolve it.
We need to share our faith without knowing how our friends will react to it.
We need to pray for a miracle without knowing how God will answer.
We need to put ourselves in a situation that activates a spiritual gift we’ve never exercised before.
And we need to go after a dream that is destined to fail without Divine intervention.
We want a money-back guarantee before we take a step of obedience, but that eliminates faith from the equation. Sometimes, we need to take a flying leap of faith.” 

—Mark Batterson, from “All In"

It matters not whether you are young or old, or how many miles you've walked on the Journey. The kid on the edge of the pool is relentless. What matters is getting into the daily habit of heeding the encouraging voice of the greatest Guide of all: "C'mon, you can do this—I'm right here," because:

“I have come in order that you might have life—life in all its fullness.”—John 10:10, Good News Translation

An Unlikely Moment of Worship

“The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it.”—Psalm 24:1

Every month is special in God’s eyes. Some may seem better to us than others, and in New England, August is right up there.

• It’s a month of heaven all around—warm evenings with nature’s symphony playing in the background.
• It’s a fruitful month, when the harvest and berries and apples begin to appear in abundance.
• It’s a time to remember that just as with the start of another year of school, there can be goodness in routine and sticking with it.
• It’s a month of hot and humid days followed by crisp days and cool nights that remind us that we live in the now and not yet of Eternity, and to look forward each day to both.
• A month, like every month, to celebrate life—but especially one in which both children were born and when beloved parents married. 

To everything there is a season, and this one, this treasure called August, is especially sweet. And with early morning coffee in the Adirondack out back, it’s a realization that it is also something more:

A reminder, in the stillness without a breath of wind, with hints of yellow showing up here and there, of how much I love the majesty of the trees in my back yard and the endless beauty of living here in New England. That no matter where any of us live, God has ordained that we have been born for such a time and led to such a place as ours, and it is good, and none of it should be taken for granted... 

This is not meant to be political at all, but while staring up into the heights of the forest and being grateful for August and praising Him who made it all, it was a reminder that while I am neither what some would call a "tree hugger" nor an extreme climate change guy, the older I get, the more I am aware of the importance of being a practical, good steward of God's good earth… 

“Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him…” —Romans 12:1, Message

…Everyday, ordinary things like walking more instead of driving everywhere, picking up trash along the road, eating more organics, even using plant-based cleaning products instead of pouring who knows what down the drain. And whenever possible, purchasing items in more easily recyclable glass or aluminum rather than plastic—especially the kind that many recycling centers will no longer accept.

But what difference does any of that make, and what does that have to do with worship, anyway? Perhaps just the reminder that my backyard, and August, and the endless beauty around me is God's, on loan and to be thoroughly enjoyed, and that every little thing anyone does to steward all of that matters. To Him.

And that’s worship that sings from the inside out.

“It is God's world still. It has been given to man not absolutely, but in trust, that man may work out in it the will of God; given, may we not say, just as a father gives a child a corner of his great garden, and says, ‘There, that is yours; now cultivate it.’”—Philipps Brooks

Beating the Worst Temptation of All

"He makes me whole again,
    steering me off worn, hard paths
    to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name." (Psalm 23:3, Voice)

A dear lady friend and outstanding musician in my town, whose religious choice was not rooted in the good news of the Gospel, once told me that during the Christmas season, she doesn't ignore it but instead "celebrates the myths." And I have to confess that instead of being shocked or offended when she said that, I laughed with her. It sounded so strange, it was hilarious.

A shading of truth can make you laugh, too, in a different way: For years, I'd read books and articles, and heard messages from well-meaning teacher-believers who claim that if you're truly a Christ-one, temptation is avoidable. That there's absolutely no need to keep on celebrating the myth that temptation is part of life.  That somehow, somewhere, there's this humongous secret super-spiritual button you can push to avoid the "T" word. 

And the more you read and hear stuff like that, you can begin to think there's something wrong with you. Because, try as you might, an endless list of magnets seem to be trying to draw you off-course every single minute. The triggers can be any number of things, but when fatigue and stress and what Oswald Chambers describes as "mental wool-gathering" all team up, there is no myth in coming face-to-face with the worst temptation of them all:

"I quit."

Not really, but they're the two words that most easily flow off your lips when summing up the ravages of weariness from hour after hour or day after day of, well, whatever. The two words the enemy of your soul delights in most.

Which may be one reason why Jesus included "lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" in His model prayer for daily life. I find myself praying this, holding on to this, after I've fallen into some God-forsaken hole of varying depth and shape. Which is fine, but better to know that it is a prayer that meant to be fuel for joyful perseverance ...

...One late evening, the triggers toward "I quit" had mounted during the long day as I pulled into the driveway. It was such a beautiful night, with the sunlight lingering long and sweet on the horizon, and yet the idea of doing or thinking one more thing made the temptation of curling up under the covers and trying to make it all go away by morning sound very appealing.

Until I looked in the refrigerator and realized I was out of a daily essential: "What? No orange juice?!" With the weight of "I quit, what-ever" temptation lingering, countered by the inner groan of "Lord, help!!," I headed to the store to fulfill my mission.

Until I drove down into the village, and noticed that the sunlight that was lingering long and sweet on the horizon was casting a gorgeous golden glow on the cupola of the Town House. The next think I knew, I had camera in hand and was walking through the village, looking up and taking in the light show, and trying to find just the right angle to capture that glow on the cupola.

Along the way, a gentleman watering the garden of an historic building that few get to enter during most of the year saw my photo pursuit and asked "Want to look inside?" What ensued was a 15-minute private history lesson about an aspect of my hometown I'd never known. And if I thought I was feeling weary, what these folks went through to make a go of it back in the day blew that up quickly.

Coincidental appointment? I think not. And instead of "I quit," gratitude began to seep back in and swallow up the temptation to not really care about really anything but me-my-myselfness. 

On golden nights like that, my car has a way of finding its way to a favorite scenic vista high above town. As many times as I've paused or driven by, this night seemed unlike the rest for its beauty. Peaceful goldenness for miles around (photo at top). Gratitude had completed its course, and the temptation was overwhelmed.

I never did make it to the store for more OJ.

It's good to know that while temptation is definitely not a myth, God always hears our feeble groans of help and reaching out so that we won't fall into its trap...if only we will listen, look (even in the refrigerator), and follow:
"Not that way, but this way,
Out of the way,
Run away,
I'll show the way." 

In the words of John Piper:

"Today, I will stand before innumerable temptations. That's what life is: endless choices between belief and unbelief, obedience and disobedience. But O Mighty God, forbid that I would yield. Hold me back from stepping inside the temptation." 

It often begins by beholding the glory all around you, and letting gratitude win the day.

[Adapted from 6/25/17]

The Music of Our Lives

“Jesus' claims are particularly unnerving, because if they are true there is no alternative but to bow the knee to Him.”—Timothy Keller

The more you read the Gospels, the more you realize all over again that no one has ever been more amazingly good, loving, compassionate and wise than Jesus.

And the more you read the Gospels, the more you also realize all over again that Jesus’ words for living and for following Him are Holy radical, uncompromising, costly, and sometimes uncomfortable, yet powerful and magnetic, and full of Life like none other.

Once, while in the midst of speaking such Holy radical words, a woman in the crowd randomly shouts, “Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you.” That’s weird. Except that woman is all of us at one time or another, maybe even this week—quick to admire Jesus from a safe distance, nod and smile at His Holy radical words for living, and to “Like” and “Amen!” all that friends say about Him.

That’s why Sunday mornings can be so recalibratingly good. A time to get off the sidelines of admiration and back in the game of following closely, one step of faith at a time, fueled by the encouragement of others who are on the same journey. A time to rekindle a Relationship, one that is much better and far more satisfying than following mere rules and routine. To draw near once more and hear Jesus’ response to that woman’s random shout echoing down through the ages: “…how blessed instead are those who hear God’s voice and make God’s message their way of life.”

And so, to worship beyond words on a screen and notes in our ears so that our hearts can pray once again before heading out into another week:

“Lord, play Your tunes through us. Breathe Your breath through us. Fashion us, change us, and let the music of our lives bring hope and joy and healing. Don’t let us be distracted by the beautiful earthly sounds all around us; help us enjoy them and see them as pointers to Heaven. Help us not to devote our lives to things that will end when we die. Let the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the works of our hands be pleasing to You, that we will be able to say when we reach the top of the mountain, ‘I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.’” 

—Andy Park, “The Worship Journey”