Meditations on Psalm 71

In you, O Lord, I put my trust,

Let me never be put to shame.  Psalm 71:1 NKJV

            There is no one who walks through this world without struggles, only a difference in circumstances.  For some, it is a collapsing family.  For others, a collapsing livelihood.  Still others face challenges of health in body, mind, or spirit.  Some are plagued with loneliness, others with wagging tongues and hurtful lips.  Some struggle to find enough food for the day, or shelter against the cold.  Some have lost loved ones to disease or catastrophe.  Some are hunted by predators, who would enslave them to evil desires.  Everyone in this world suffers, even if only separated by circumstance and degree.

            David, who wrote the words of this ancient Hebrew song 3000 years ago, knew about suffering, too.  He lived through all these things at different times of his life.  How could he sing about having put his trust in a God who let him suffer?  How could he then ask, that he never be put to shame?  When living hungry, alone, persecuted, slandered, attacked, amongst death and disease, touched in our own very bodies by the suffering of the whole world… how can he, or we, pray such a thing?

            It is faith… but not just any faith.  It is a faith which sees beyond the suffering of the moment, and clings to a God who endures suffering with us.  It is a faith which beholds a God who does not abandon us in suffering, but enters into it with us, and carries us through it.  It is a faith that knows our God has conquered the suffering of this world, and all that the evil one would send us.  David knew a God who promised to save him, and all people, through a Messiah who would break the chains of suffering and death, and bring eternal life where the darkness of despair blighted the land.  David looked forward through a thousand years of future history, to the time of the promised Messiah, who in his very body would take the sins, evil, and suffering of the whole world… and nail them to the tree of the Cross.  David’s faith looked forward to the salvation God had promised, knowing that none of his suffering in his time, could compare with the glory of the time to come.

            Do you know this God?  This God who does not flee nor laugh at suffering, but comes to you in the midst of it?  This God who takes your suffering upon Himself, that you might receive His eternal life, and peace, and hope?  His Name is Jesus, and He calls out to you.  He has suffered all things for you, that you might be saved through Him.  Hear and cling to Him, and you, like David, will see beyond the boundaries of time and space, even your own suffering, to a life forever kept in Him.  For you, there shall be no shame, because the enemy can’t really touch you—for in this world we may have suffering, we are of good cheer, for Christ has overcome the world.   

Amen.

A prophet in their own country: Meditiation on Luke 4

                In a time such as ours, the idea of prophets seems either odd or quaint, and you can measure this by asking the question even of yourself:  what would you think, if someone walked up to you, and claimed to be a prophet?  Most of us, myself included, would either laugh out loud, become very skeptical, or perhaps both.  Now, imagine that person who just came up to you and claimed to be a prophet, was a kid you went to grade school with—someone you knew growing up to be very human, and having all the same struggles you did coming through school.  I imagine, that would make it even harder to believe such a person, when they tell you that they’ve come with messages from God.

                Of course, this is exactly what Jesus did in our reading for this Sunday.  Jesus came into the synagogue, where all the people were gathered for weekly worship, and did what Hebrew men were allowed to do—He read from the Scriptures, and then expounded upon them, making clear the truth that was contained in those sacred readings.  And as He did so, the people were both amazed, and a little offended.  Jesus’ exposition of the Scriptures, that a particular element of Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled in their hearing, meant that He himself was fulfilling this ancient prophecy.  Those gathered together in the synagogue knew Jesus had been out in the countryside, healing and teaching, and calling people to repent of their sin, for the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand.  But many of those people in the synagogue knew Jesus from His youth—this was His home town.  They knew him as he stumbled around Joseph’s work shop, and did his chores at the direction of His blessed Mother.  They knew Him, either as a childhood companion of the same village, or as the child growing up alongside their own family’s children.  And so, even though the teaching Jesus brought forward from the Scriptures pricked their hearts, their own sinful pride and rebellion caused them to derisively dismiss Jesus with the rhetorical question, “Isn’t this just Joseph’s son?”

                Of course, we know that Jesus was only under the care of Joseph, being Himself the Son of God.  But Jesus doesn’t correct this misconception quite yet.  Rather, He addresses their unbelief regarding the Word of God, and those who bring it to the people.  He reminds them that in the days of Elijah, the people being unfaithful and unrepentant, the Word of God still stood, and was still brought to those who would hear it, by the prophet God sent… even if the only ones who would hear and believe, were foreigners, and outside the visible confines of the Mosaic Covenant.  The people hearing Jesus got the point, and they were enraged.  They couldn’t stand to hear Jesus accuse them of unbelief, and so they drug Him out of town to kill Him if they could.  But as it was not Jesus’ time to give His life as a ransom for the sins of the world, He passed through the midst of them, and went His way.  But this lesson He taught, has been written down for every generation to come.

                And what is that lesson?  The bearer of the Word of God is not measured by his earthly circumstances, but by the Word he carries.  The messenger is not weighed upon his own authority, but of the One who sends him.  Jesus affirms this principle when He sends out His Apostles, and advises them that when they speak His Word, anyone who hears the Apostles, actually hears Jesus.

                We are wise to sit and hear Jesus’ teaching on this point, rather than to rebel against it.  It doesn’t really matter what uniform the messenger is wearing, or where he came from—if that messenger is sent by God and bears the Word of God, we ought to listen.  Because at the end of the day, we’re not listening because we like the speaker, and we’re not searching for some cool new sermon series that he might be able to craft into PowerPoint slides.  We are the people of God by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, and His Word is life to us.  We hear the bearers of the Word, because of Him who sends it—because of Him who is the Word made flesh, and Who continues to dwell among us, full of grace and truth, sending out His emissaries in His Name to preach repentance and the forgiveness of sins.  Amen.