Author: Daniel Westfall
Ep.131: Psalm 57: In the Shelter of His Wings.
Psalm 57 has a striking interplay of images on earth compared with images in heaven.
On earth, the poet’s enemies have attacked with vengeance. He says,
I am in the midst of lions;
I dwell among ravenous beasts–
men whose teeth are spears and arrows,
whose tongues are sharp swords (v. 4).
And again,
They spread a net for my feet–
They dug a pit in my path (v. 6).
But the poet’s vision is not earthbound and enemy-centered. He twice says,
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
let your glory be over all the earth (vv. 5, 11).
The poet lifts his eyes above the trouble and chaos of life, above the crouching lions and pit-digging enemies, to see the God who rules above the heavens, who displays his glory over all the earth.
Let’s pray.
Have mercy on me, my God, have mercy on me,
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
until the disaster has passed (v. 1).
How often we feel the day of disaster. A day when we succumb to temptation. A day when we face criticism and rejection from family and friends and coworkers. A day when the enemies described in Ephesians attack us. As Paul says: “Our warfare is not against flesh and blood . . but against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” We want to live a Christ-like life, but it’s more difficult than we imagined. We feel anger and despair we can’t shake off. We face broken relationships we can’t repair. Inner impulses and outer temptations trap us every time. O God, shelter us under your wings. Shelter us against the evil inside us and outside. Shelter us, against the world, the flesh, and the devil.
I cry out to God Most High,
to God, who vindicates me.
He sends from heaven and saves me,
rebuking those who hotly pursue me–
God sends forth his love and his faithfulness (vv. 2-3).
Rebuke our enemies, O God. Rebuke the lust and lethargy that creep up on us. Rebuke the arrogance that consumes us as we criticize the media and the politics and the management where we live and work. Rebuke the naysayers who discourage and the prosperity gospellers who entice. Rebuke the spirit of the age–the gospel of consumerism and self-management and individualism. Lord, dwell in us, form our spirits into your image, draw us out of consumerism into stewardship, out of self-management into dependence on you, out individualism and isolation into community.
Our heart is steadfast, O God,
Our heart is steadfast;
We will sing and make music.
Awake, my soul!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn (vv. 7-8).
O God, with the poet we turn our gaze to the warmth of your smile. We rest in the shadow of your wings. We leave our complaints and requests for you to dispose of. We arouse our inner self that has lived in fear and depression. We worship with songs and hymns. We wait for your new day to dawn upon us.
Send forth your love and faithfulness (v. 3).
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
let your glory be over all the earth (v. 11).
Amen.
I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.
Ep.130: Book Review: The Confessions of St. Augustine. Podcast.
Ep.130: Book Review: The Confessions of St. Augustine.
Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.
Today we look at The Confessions of St. Augustine, which is his autobiographical memoir, written about 397 A.D., not long after his appointment as Bishop of Hippo, North Africa. In the book, Augustine recounts his life and wanderings from boyhood through age 33 when he became a Christian.
The book is a prayer–Augustine’s extended, passionate, poetic communication to God. With remarkable insight and eloquence, he prays the story of his life and his searching, letting the reader eavesdrop on his personal relationship with God.
The book is also Augustine’s confession in several senses. First, he confesses the sins of life–theft, intellectual pride, lust, self-promotion. He also confesses, or discloses, who he is: an intellectual wanderer, a searcher for truth and God, a wayward son, a sensitive and introspective soul. Augustine also confesses his faith in God. For example, he says to God,
How tortuous were my paths! . . . Toss and turn as we may, now on our back, now side, now belly–our bed is hard at every point, for you alone are our rest. But lo! Here you are; you rescue us from our wretched meanderings and establish us on your way; you say to us, “Run: I will carry you, I will lead you and I will bring you home” (St. Augustine, The Confessions, trans. Sr. Maria Boulding (New York: New City Press, 1997) VI, 16, 26, paraphrased).
I own two copies of The Confessions. The first is Edward Pusey’s 1838 translation, reprinted in 1909 in a Harvard Classics edition (St. Augustine, The Confessions, trans. Edward B. Pusey in The Harvard Classics (New York: The Collier Press, 1909). Since Augustine was schooled in rhetoric and oratory, Pusey’s masterful use of King James English communicates some of the beauty of the original. Alas, the English language has moved on: King James and Shakespeare sound archaic to modern ears. So I recently acquired one of the best modern translations, Maria Boulding’s 1997 version (Boulding).
Here are some of my favorite quotes and stories from The Confessions.
Augustine’s most famous quote is from the first paragraph of the book, where he prays: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in you” (Pusey, I, 1, 1, paraphrased).
At age 28, Augustine left North Africa for Rome. His mother, Monica, pleaded with him to stay and prayed to God that he would not go. But Augustine deceived her, departing stealthily at night, leaving her as he says, “mad with grief, filling God’s ears with complaints and groans” (Boulding, V, 15, paraphrased). Augustine sees God’s goodness in this unhappy parting: God denied Monica’s request, in order to answer her prayer. It was in Rome and Milan that Augustine came to faith.
Augustine tells a striking story of his associate Alypius, whose friends dragged him unwillingly to the colosseum in rome. Alypius said to them, “You may drag my body into that place, but you cannot direct my mind and my eyes to the show. I will be present there, and yet be absent” (Boulding, VI, 8, 13, paraphrased). Alypius covered his eyes and disciplined his mind, but at a critical moment in the fight there was a huge roar from the crowd. Overwhelmed with curiosity, Alypius looked up and saw the blood and the brutality and the fallen gladiator. That one look began a deep addiction to the blood sports, that lasted until God delivered him. Violent and addictive shows are not the brainchild of our modern civilization–the only improvement we have made is delivering it right into our homes.
Of people who read his Confessions, Augustine says, “What then have I to do with men, that they should hear my confessions–a race, curious to know the lives of others, slothful to amend their own?” (Pusey, X, 3, paraphrased). He’s still right today. We are curious about the lives of celebrities, but slow to correct our own faults.
That’s The Confessions of Augustine. Not an easy read, but well worth the time and effort.
Let’s pray with Augustine:
O God, the house of my soul is too small for you to enter: make it more spacious by your coming. It lies in ruins: rebuild it. Some things are here which will offend you. . . who will clean my house? To whom but you can I cry, Cleanse me of my hidden sins, O Lord, and for those incurred through others pardon your servant (Boulding, I,6, paraphrased).
Amen.
I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.
Ep.129: Psalm 56: God is For Us. Podcast.
Ep.129: Psalm 56: God is For Us.
Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.
In the current batch of psalms, the Big Issue topics are
the poet’s desperate situation,
his dangerous enemies, and
his incessant pleas for help.
In Psalm 56, the tone changes. Though enemies still threaten and life’s situations are still desperate, the poet presents
a more-settled faith,
a more-solid relationship with God,
a more-peaceful approach to his many troubles.
Let’s look at three expressions of faith in Psalm 56.
First, the poet says,
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise–
In God I trust and I am not afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me? (vv. 3-4).
The poet feared enemies who pursued and warriors who attacked. But instead of being paralyzed with fear, he actively counteracts it by putting his trust in God. If God protects him, mere mortal enemies have no power against him.
Psalm 56 presents a second statement of faith, as the poet says,.
Record my misery,
put my tears in your bottle,
are they not in your book?
Then my enemies will turn back
when I call for help.
This I know that God is for me (vv. 8, 9b).
Do you see God as one who stores your tears in his bottle? As one who records your sorrows in his book? These are strangely comforting thoughts leading to the poet’s greatest affirmation of faith: “This I know that God is for me.” Throughout the psalms, the poet has struggled with the problem of faith, namely, “Is God for us, is he against us, or is he just a disinterested observer?” Here the poet presses past his fear and doubts into God’s presence, gaining strength and confidence that God is his friend and his helper.
The poet makes a third statement of faith at the end of Psalm 56:
You have delivered me from death
and my feet from stumbling
that I may walk before God
in the light of life (v. 13).
God delivered the poet from stumbling in the darkness of fear and anxiety. He now walks with God in the light of life.
Let’s pray.
Our father, with the poet, we make our statement of faith:
When we are afraid,
we will put our trust in you.
What can mere mortals do to us?
Sometimes, O Lord, our world frightens us. Wars and epidemics threaten. Civilized discourse vanishes. Our very lives are passing away. But we trust you. Watch over us, protect us from evil and disease, look out for our well-being. To you the author of goodness, we surrender our fear. We receive your peace and your protection.
Our father, you see and treasure our tears. You store them in your bottle. You record them in your book. We invite you to transform the deep sadness of our lives into memories of your goodness, the narrative of our pain into the story of your healing.
We join the poet in his great statement of faith, “We know you are for us.” We are often alone, often hated, often in danger. We thank you for being on our side. Thank you for being our strong friend, our strong God, our strong defender. Teach us to walk with you in the light of life.
Amen.
I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.
Ep.128: The Care and Feeding of Sheep. Podcast.
Ep.128: The Care and Feeding of Sheep.
Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.
In the final chapter of John’s gospel, the main characters are Peter and Jesus. Peter, probably thinking he disqualified himself as a disciple by denying Jesus, fired up his old vocation again by organizing an all-night fishing expedition with other former disciples, but they didn’t catch a single thing.
Early in the morning, someone shouted a suggestion from the beach, that they try fishing on the other side of the boat. They did, and immediately their nets filled with fish. Someone counted 153.
The voice that shouted advice from the beach was Jesus, and he invited them to a breakfast of fish and bread, cooked over open coals. Peter was glad to see Jesus. He must have experienced deja vu, remembering the time three years ago when Jesus found him fishing and said, “Follow me. I will teach you to fish for people.” Peter followed Jesus and loved him, but his apprenticeship ended with the disaster of denial.
After breakfast, Jesus took Peter for a stroll along the beach. Three times he asked, “Do you love me?” and three times Peter replied, “You know I do.” Each time Jesus said to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” In his years with Jesus, the most important thing Peter learned was not the skills to be a professional disciple, but the love that grew in his heart for Jesus. Jesus was satisfied that that was enough, and he gave Peter his job back.
Jesus also gave Peter a new promise, saying Peter would die the same way Jesus did, by crucifixion. No more denial in Peter’s future, only faithfulness.
I hope it was a comfort to Peter, as he went through life serving Jesus, to know that each day brought him closer to sharing the kind of death Jesus died. I’m not sure that would be a comfort to me.
Let’s pray.
Jesus, like Peter we have felt your call on our lives. To fish for people. To feed your sheep. To love our neighbours. To serve your church.
Like Peter, we haven’t achieved this. We want to build your kingdom, but we deny you. We want to build your church, but we end up arguing with sheep instead of feeding them. We want to become fishers of people, but we scare them away.
Jesus, why didn’t you fire Peter after he denied you? Do you always restore and recommission fainthearted disciples?
Jesus, even though the evidence for our love is weak and our denials are recent and strong, we say with Peter, “We love you.” We have no heart for our old vocation. Our years of following you have imprinted us with love. We are ready to accept as Peter did the way of the cross–your cross first, and ours to follow.
Jesus, we receive from you today whatever vocation you give us and whatever death will be our portal to life with you. Help us to feed your sheep.
Amen.
I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.
Ep.127: Psalm 55: Smooth Words and a Violent Heart. Podcast.
Ep.127: Psalm 55: Smooth Words and a Violent Heart.
Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.
In Psalm 55, the poet is once again overwhelmed by trouble and doubt.
– His enemies threaten him (v. 3).
– His thoughts trouble him (v. 2).
– His city is rife with violence and abuse (v. 9)
– His friend betrayed him (v. 13).
– He is overwhelmed with horror (v. 5).
Of his traitorous friend he says:
His talk is smooth as butter,
Yet war is in his heart.
His words are more soothing than oil,
Yet they are drawn swords (v. 21).
The poet makes two responses to his troubles. His first impulse is to run away. He says,
Oh that I had wings like a dove,
I would fly away and be at rest (v. 6).
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
Far from the tempest and storm (v. 8).
I identify with that prayer. “God, don’t let it be my problem. Make it all go away. Take me to an island of peace far from the maddening crowd, far from the noise of the city, far from evil and distress. Help me escape the war zone that is my life.”
The poet’s second response to trouble goes like this:
Cast your cares on the Lord
and he will sustain you
He will never let
the righteous be shaken (v. 22).
Let’s pray.
Hear us, O God. Our thoughts trouble us when we consider the state of the world and the state of our nation and the state of our own hearts. We thought the bomb would protect our western civilization, but enemies use our technology to build their own bombs. We thought medical science would cure human disease, but viruses change and adapt, outwitting our best efforts. We thought psychology and reason and mood-enhancing drugs would create mental health and stability, but our progress is slow and uncertain.
Like the poet we see poverty and crime in our cities, violence and strife, malice and abuse. Opioids made to ease pain have spawned an addiction crisis far worse than we could have imagined. Once-vibrant inner cities are violent slums. Lord, we want to escape the noise and confusion and evil. We want to fly to the wilderness, to a place of unspoiled beauty. But if we went there, would we take our evil with us?
With the poet, we turn our hearts to you, saying,
We call to God
and the Lord saves us.
Evening, morning and noon
We cry out in distress
and you hear our voice (vv. 16-17).
You see us, God. You hear us. You call yourself our father, you have adopted us as your children. Look on our world of violence and evil. Remember us when friends betray us, remember us when the public discourse is dishonest and dishonourable, remember us when our enemies plan violence against us, when
Their talk is smooth as butter,
but war is in their hearts (v. 21).
With the poet we pray,
Cast your cares on the Lord
and he will sustain you (v. 22).
But as for me, I trust in you, Lord (v. 23).
Amen.
I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.