Sunday, October 18, 2020

“In His Word I Hope” (Psalm 130:1-8)

The Gift of Pain
In his book The Gift of Pain Dr. Paul Brand who worked with people who suffered from pain and people who suffered from the lack of pain in England, India, and the US for decades shares what he has learned something new about pain. In the early days of working with those patients he considered pain as something to be avoided or removed. But as he continued to work with leprosy patients, he gained a new perspective on pain. He saw how hundreds of his leprosy patients suffer from pain’s absence. The noses of them shrink away, their earlobes swell, and over time they lose fingers and toes, then hands and feet. Many also go blind. One time Dr. Brand came back from a long, difficult medical trip. He pulled off his shoes to prepare for bed, but then he realized that he had no feeling in half his foot. He was terrified. The truth was his recent illness (influenza) and fatigue caused a temporary numbness for a day. Overnight the nerve had renewed itself. There was no leprosy. He breathed a prayer hundreds of times, “Thank God for pain!” That single sleepless night became for him a defining moment. Dr. Brand says, “I now regard pain as one of the most remarkable design features of the human body, and if I could choose one gift for my leprosy patients it would be the gift of pain.” Then, he continues, “My own encounters with pain as well as the specter of painlessness have produced in me an attitude of wonder and appreciation. I do not desire, and cannot even imagine, a life without pain.”[1]

Psalm 130 is written by the one whose life is in pain. But Martin Luther once called Psalm 130 “a proper master and doctor of Scripture.” Psalm 130 teaches the basic, essential truth of the gospel, starting with painful (bad) news, then good news, that is 3 C’s: Condemnation – Confession – Confidence.

Condemnation
First, condemnation. The psalmist cries out to God out of “the depths” (v. 1). He is now in the depths, in trouble, in pain. In this psalm the metaphor of the “the depths” refer to a feeling of alienation from God. Why does the psalmist feel that way? We can find the answer in verse 3: “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?” Because of his iniquities, the psalmist feels like he is being cast into the depths of the sea. He feels separated from God. He feels pain. In the Old Testament the word “iniquity” (ah-von) is what we are rather than what we do. Its root meaning is “to bend, curve, turn aside, or twist.” It is the “bent” of our nature towards sin, rebellion against the law of God. In a word, it is the fallen nature, sinful nature, which we can no more change, of ourselves. The Bible says, “All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one” (Rm 3:12, ESV). That’s depressing news, painful news about the human reality where we are. But that’s the starting point of our journey towards God. We feel pain, we cry out to God.

If you turn on the TV, you’re bombarded with painful news. You can see human sinful nature – self-centeredness, pride, greed, deceit, and so on. If you turn to Psalm 130, you can see that pain is real. Condemnation is real. Separation is real. But that’s not the point. The point is, rather, our place in the depths is not out of bounds from God. The point is God is greater and more real than our suffering and pain. This morning we read Psalm 139 as call to worship. The adaptation of this psalm in our context today would read, “Where can I go to get away from your spirit? If I go to the rehab clinic… the ICU… my empty room, you are there. If I say, “I am done with social media. I am done with politics” … even that moment you would guide me.” The place where we feel pain is the very same place where we encounter God.

Confession
Pain brings us to repentance. The psalmist, who is in pain, is now turning to God, confessing his personal and communal sin, asking God’s forgiveness (vv. 3-4). Then expectantly, he waits for God.

“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning,
More than those who watch for the morning” (vv. 5-6).

The two words wait and watch are at the center of the psalm. “Wait and watch” are signs of true repentance. Those who are contrite in spirit, poor in spirit, wait and watch. Salvation is all of God, but there is our part to participate in it. It is to wait and watch for the Lord. I was once a watchman when I was in the military. One of my duties was to stay alert and keep records of what happened during the overnight shift. Also, as a military chaplain, I visited several guard posts and comforted restless soldiers. I stayed awake, I visited, I chitchatted. And I waited for the dawn. Dawn always came. When we think about a watchman, we find that a watchman is an important person, but he doesn’t do very much. He never makes anything happen. He waits and watches. He comforts and encourages. He hopes.

The psalmist invites us to be a watchman. In our context, in this election season, as a Christian and as a church, what does it mean to be a watchman? In the November issue of Christian magazine Sojourners, Rose Marie Berger gives us some helpful guidelines to wait and watch:[2] 

1. Get involved
Many of us already got tired of all this political mess. Sometimes we need a media fast. But after some time, we should get back, get involved. We should learn, study, discern, pray, and vote, not based on what’s best for me (self-interest) but what’s best for the common good.
2. Defend accuracy and stop disinformation
Check all information. Alert others by commenting on false information that you see posted online, and do not repeat, repost, or retweet false information.
3. Resist foreign interference
4. Stand up against intimidation
5. Allow time for all the voters to be counted
The actual, accurate results may not be known until many days, or even weeks, after Nov. 3. Keep calm, and don’t be swayed by inadequate or incomplete results from media.
6. Once votes are counted, respect the election results
7. Demand accuracy in media reports

By doing this, expectantly and actively we wait and watch. We hope.

Confidence
Condemnation, Confession, and now Confidence. Here the source of confidence is important. The psalmist has full confidence in God’s “steadfast love”:

“O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities” (vv. 7-8).

The Hebrew word hesed, translated as “unfailing love,” is one of the most important words in the Bible. Hesed is used in the context of the wedding vows. At the wedding, a bride and a bridegroom pledge a love “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part,” and they publicly vow by saying, in turn, “I will.” It is love centered in the will, lifelong commitment. This is hesed, the Lord’s unchangeable, eternal commitment to his people. In the Bible Hosea’s life was a message to God’s people. God asked Hosea to marry a prostitute and have children of unfaithfulness. But then, Hosea’s wife committed adultery with another lover. But again, God asked Hosea to go and love his wife again. Israel has forsaken God and has turned to their own ways again and again, but God’s hesed still followed them all the days of their lives. God said to them:

“And I will take you for my wife forever; I will take you for my wife in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy. I will take you for my wife in faithfulness; and you shall know the LORD” (Hosea 2:19-20, NRSV)

God’s unfailing love leads Israel to repentance. God’s unfailing love changes Israel. God’s unfailing love changes us. His hesed gives us solid hope in spite of our brokenness.

Speaking about the Sun
In his book Here and Now Henri Nouwen talks about his friend who radiates joy. Whenever Nouwen meets his friend, he is tempted to draw his attention to the wars between nations, the starvation among children, the corruption in politics, and the deceit among people, thus trying to impress him with the ultimate brokenness of the human race. But every time Nouwen tries something like this, his friend looks at him with the gentle and compassionate eyes and says: “I saw two children sharing their bread with one another, and I heard a woman say ‘thank you’ and smile when someone covered her with a blanket. These simple poor people gave me new courage to live my life.” Nouwen concludes, “My friend’s joy is contagious. The more I am with him, the more I catch glimpses of the sun shining through the clouds… Those who keep speaking about the sun while walking under a cloudy sky are messengers of hope, the true saints of our day.”[3]

Psalm 130 teaches us such an important spiritual reality that God is more real than suffering, God is more real than despair, God is more real than brokenness. And this spiritual realism makes the psalmist such a hopeful man: “In his word I hope (v. 5) … O Israel, hope in the Lord! (v. 7)” May we too be messengers of hope, looking to the sun and speaking about the sun always. Amen.

---------
[1] Paul Brand, The Gift of Pain (p. 12-13). Zondervan. Kindle Edition.
[2] Rose Marie Berger, “What Can I Do?” Sojourners (November 2020), 28-29.
[3] Henri J. M. Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit (pp. 32-33). The Crossroad Publishing Company. Kindle Edition.



No comments:

Post a Comment