Second Sunday in Lent (4)
Psalm 71 (1-9 of 24 verses)
let me never be put to shame.
2 In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me;
turn your ear to me and save me.
3 Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.
4 Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of those who are evil and cruel.
5 For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD,
my confidence since my youth.
6 From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.
I will ever praise you.
7 I have become a sign to many;
you are my strong refuge.
8 My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.
9 Do not cast me away when I am old;
do not forsake me when my strength is gone.
Reflecting upon this Lenten season, I sometimes wonder what our Lord Jesus experienced during His 40 days in the wilderness. Other than the temptations we know about. How often was he exposed to the elements and the wind and weather. Did He need to seek shelter to wait out the storms? He was, after all, fully human as well as fully God.
After going over the scripture readings for today, I kept coming back to Psalm 71 which I wrestled with because this Psalm is generally considered as a prayer of the aged believer and I try not to consider myself as aged, yet. But within Psalm 71 I found words like refuge and deliver and rescue and rock as well as words like praise and hope and sing and proclaim and tell. So perhaps this Psalm is not so much a prayer of the aged believer but a prayer of the ages.
How often have we as a people needed refuge? How often have we as individuals needed refuge? How often have we found ourselves in the place of that “dark night of the soul” which St John of the Cross described?
When I ponder this, what comes
to mind is all the history of the Old Testament and the numerous times the
people of God had to call out to God for refuge and safety. I think upon how
the followers of the early Christian church were persecuted and had to seek
refuge and safety in caves and catacombs and strangers’ homes. Now what happens
when we find ourselves in that dark night of the soul? Where is our refuge and
safety?
I challenge you to read Psalm
71 in its entirety, slowly and maybe even a few times over. In spite of all the
troubles that are being inflicted on the author of Psalm 71, he still has hope
and faith in God. And we can too. Just continue to believe – anyway, always.
Even in the waiting, even in the silence seek his refuge and wait and listen
for your Father’s voice in the wilderness.
As well, ponder the patience
our Lord has with us as he waits for us to believe in Him, to call on His name.
Ponder some of the great saints of the past, who in spite of the storms both
physical and spiritual, sought refuge in God and waited and believed even in
the silence.
Ponder the words of an
anonymous Jewish author found scratched on the walls of a cellar in Nazi
Germany. “I believe in the sun, even when it’s not shining. I believe in love
even when I am alone. I believe in God even when he is silent. “
In these challenging times, it
is like we are at war with Covid and we can easily become “covid crazy” as we
daily tune in to the news to hear how far the invasion has come; when we hear
of Covid battles won and lost; when we see the overwhelmed front line workers
efforts and exhaustion, when we ourselves are physically or emotionally or
economically depleted. At times such as these, may we find consolation and hope
in this Psalm of the ages and wait on the Lord for deliverance.
Now, what should we do while we are in a waiting season? We can trust and pray and hope. And we can praise and sing:
for your faithfulness, my God;
I will sing praise to you with the lyre,
Holy One of Israel.
23 My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you—
I whom you have delivered.
I find comfort in the hymn “Rock of Ages”. I love the wording of this song as well as it’s origin. The word “cleft” or cleave is unique as it has two separate meanings which I believe compliment each other. It means to separate but also to stick close to. This Lenten season, separate your self from the storm and stick close to our Blessed Lord.
- Jim Poriz