Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me.”

Psalm 109’s message sounds like the opposite of Jesus’ prayer on the cross. Jesus prayed, “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.” In Psalm 109 , the poet prays:
  Appoint someone evil to oppose my enemy . . .
  When he is tried, let him be found guilty,
      may his prayers condemn him.
    May his days be few,
      may another take his place of leadership. 

    May his children be wandering beggars,
    May a creditor seize all he has,
      may strangers plunder the fruits of his labor.
    May no one extend kindness to him,
      or take pity on his fatherless children (phrases from vv. 6-15). 

How’s that for a sustained and vengeful list of curses! I have four comments:

First, Jesus sometimes confronted great evil with great anger. In Matthew 23, he calls the Pharisees hypocrites, snakes, murderers, and tombs full of bones. He asks, “How will you escape being condemned to hell?” (Mat. 23:1-36). His anger is an appropriate response to evil and injustice. We accept Jesus’ anger at the Pharisees and the poet’s anger at his enemies as legitimate emotional responses to people who perpetrate evil. 

Second, there is at least one major difference between Jesus’ anger and the poet’s anger: Jesus expressed anger by pointing out and giving examples of the Pharisees’ sins. The poet’s approach? He wants revenge! He steps beyond the Old Testament’s “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” rule by inviting evil to avalanche destructively on evildoers and their descendants. 

Third, I like the poets’ description of his enemy:
    He wore cursing as a garment,
          it entered his body like water
          and his bones like oil.
      May it be like a cloak wrapped about him,
            like a belt tied forever round him.
      May this be the the Lord’s payment to my accusers,
            to those who speak evil of me (vv. 18-20). 

What an interesting word picture–an enemy wearing curses like a garment. The enemy’s garment begins to shape his identity. The attitude and practice of cursing seeps into his body like water, into his bones like oil, consuming his thoughts and life. 

Words are powerful. By constantly cursing others, the enemy creates a culture of verbal abuse and violence and he must live in the culture he creates. The poet praysGod permit this to occur, that God will let the enemy inhabit the cursed world his curses create. The poet here is not seeking vengeance on his enemy, just asking that he will experience the consequences of his speech and actions.

And finally, I note that the poet does not take up weapons or make plans to avenge himself against his enemy. His words are a prayer that God will avenge him. A wise choice, not to loose our vengeance and violence on the world, but to express our anger in prayer and invite God to bring about justice.

Let’s pray. 

Our father, the anger and vengeance of this psalm are words expressed to you. Help us, like the poet, to see clearly the injustices in the world, to be angry at perpetrators, to bring evil to your attention. Help us to walk with the poet in praying, to walk with Jesus in confronting evil, and to learn to say with Jesus, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” 

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Psalm 108 was composed by combining part of Psalm 57 with part of Psalm 60. An original poem it is not! But it does remind us that old prayers can be reformatted and recycled to fit new and changing conditions of our lives. 

In this psalm, the poet is among the nations, singing to the God of Israel (v. 3). Presumably, he is in exile, perhaps Babylon. From that location, he views God not as the local God of Israel, but as the God who has travelled with him to a foreign land. He states that God’s mercy and truth reach to the heavens, covering all the earth: homeland and land of exile and everything in between. God’s presence encompasses the world. 

But the poet’s mind and heart are drawn to his homeland, to the Promised Land. He thinks of God in relation to familiar places like Gilead and Manasseh, to tribal territories like Ephraim and Judah. He quotes God’s rude comments about the local enemies, as God says, “Moab is my washpot, over Edom I cast out my sandal” (vv. 8-9). 

Then the poet remembers his present desperate plight and prays:
  Is it not you, God, who have rejected us,
    and no longer go out with our armies?
  Give us aid against the enemy,
    for human help is worthless.
  With God we shall gain the victory,
    and he will trample down our enemies (vv. 11-13). 

Let’s pray. 

Our father, the poet reminds us that the whole earth is yours. With him, we see your glory in the clouds that sail over all the world–over ancient Ethiopia, riven by famine and violence; over Syria, largely destroyed by recent war; over your ancient land of Israel, with its confusion of traditional orthodox Jews, modern liberal Jews, Palestinian Arabs, and endless variations.

The poet also reminds us that in this big and dangerous world, you care for your people. Wherever we are captive to identity politics and racial injustice; wherever dictators rule by coercion and violence; wherever we walk that narrow line between use and abuse of creation; we do so under the heavens you built, under the clouds that remind us of your faithfulness, under the blue sky you fixed above us and the sun that is the source of our energy.  

The poet reminds us that in this journey, human help is worthless. James says, human wrath will never achieve God’s righteousness (Jas. 1:20). Help us with the poet to see you always present in creation, to pray for your help in the complex politics of our world, to worship you with a steadfast heart, and to trust ourselves to your glory, which is over all the earth (vv. 1-5). 

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Psalm 107 is a hymn of thanksgiving. It begins:
    Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
      his love endures forever.
    Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story
        those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
    those he gathered from. . .
        from east and west, from north and south (vv. 1-3). 

The backdrop to Psalm 107 is a joyful homecoming of exiled Israelites. Behind that backdrop is another homecoming–the return led by Moses through the Red Sea and across the desert, after the Israelites had lived in Egypt for 400 years.

The psalm tells four stories of deliverance, ending each with the encouragement:
  Give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love,
      and his wonderful deeds for humankind (vv. 8, 15, 21, 31). 

Here are the four stories: 

Some people were lost in the desert, dying of thirst. They cried to the Lord, who led them to a city they could call home (vv. 4-9).

Others were prisoners in darkness and chains. They cried to the Lord who broke their chains and brought them out of darkness (vv. 10-16). 

Some were sick, near death, unable to eat. They cried to the Lord who sent his word and healed them (vv. 17-22). 

Some were sailors in a mighty storm. They too cried to the Lord who stilled the storm to a whisper (vv. 23-32). 

Let’s pray. 

Our Lord, Psalm 107 tells our story. 

We are lost in a desert of modern culture, working our computers, reading endless news, worrying about politics and wars, and chasing rabbit trails on social media. In this desert, we are thirsty for truth, thirsty for life, thirsty for news of eternity. Lead us through our wilderness to a city we can call home, to a new Jerusalem where you will live with us. 

We have been prisoners, chained to our narrow thinking and constricted theology, not sure how to understand evolution and the Big Bang and the expanding universe. We live in a world of decaying morals, where truth is despised and persons are measured by productivity and wealth. Bring us out of our prison into the light of Christ. May he take away our chains, reveal the shallowness of the things we trust, and establish us in his light and truth.  

We are sin-sick, O Lord. Our lives are full of petty jealousy, endless selfishness, needless anxieties, daily sadness. We cry to you in our sickness, deliver us from ourselves, deliver us from our habits, deliver us to sing your praise and give you thanks.

We have been at sea. Our lives are like the Titanic, navigating confidently, heedless of storms and icebergs. O Lord, teach us wisdom on the  sea of life. Teach us temperance. Teach us to put our trust in you. Be our navigator. Pilot us safely to harbor.  

With the poet, we praise you:
  We give thanks to you for your unfailing love,
        for your wonderful deeds for mankind.
  You turn our desert into pools of water,
        our parched ground into flowing springs (vv. 31, 35).
    You poured contempt on the nobles
        and made them wander in a trackless waste.
    But you lifted the needy out of affliction
        and increased the families like flocks.
    We see and rejoice in your works, O Lord (vv. 40-42a).  

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.