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”.

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

Psalms 105 and 106 present sharply different views of Israel’s history. Psalm 105 is an optimistic and uplifting account of how God made promises and protected the Israelites all the way from Abraham to the Promised Land.

Psalm 106, in contrast, is like a modern novel that deals in dysfunction, angst, and moral confusion. The psalm tells story after story of Israel’s sin and rebellion. As I present a summary of the psalm, ask yourself, “Why would a poet focus on such negative history?” 

Here’s my summary.  

Soon after leaving Egypt, the Israelites were trapped between Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea. They promptly forgot God’s miracles in Egypt, and complained to Moses, saying, “There were plenty of graves in Egypt. Why did you bring us here to die?” (Ex 14:10). 

While wandering in the desert, some Israelites wanted to be priests like Aaron, so they petitioned Moses for religious equality. But God punished them in an earthquake, and sent fire on their followers. Then the Israelites blamed Moses for God’s punishment and the needless deaths, so God sent a plague among them until Aaron offered incense to make atonement (Num 16:1-50). 

When Moses was on Mt. Sinai with God, the impatient Israelites created their own god–a golden calf. God wanted to destroy everyone and start over, but Moses convinced him that was a bad idea (Ex 32). 

The spies who surveyed the Promised Land reported that it was a pleasant and fruitful land. But they also reported the natives were giants who killed invaders. So the people complained to Moses again, and said, “Take us back to Egypt” (Num 13:25-33).

After the Israelites accepted Moab’s invitation to make sacrifices to the local idol, Baal of Peor, God sent a plague among them, killing many, until Aaron’s grandson, Phineas the priest, intervened (Num 25). 

At Meribah, in the desert, the Israelites complained about lack of water, saying to Moses, “Why have you brought us to this wretched place?” God told Moses to speak to the rock, but Moses, in frustration, said to the people, “Listen, you rebels, must we bring water out of this rock?” and he struck the rock with his rod. 

The poet is telling us that the Israelites were so contrary and uncooperative, they provoked Moses himself to dishonor God. God responded to Moses by telling him he would die in the desert instead of leading the people into the Promised Land. 

The sorry history did not improve when Israel lived in the Promised Land. They continued ignoring God, worshipped false gods, and sacrificed  children to idols. It got so bad that God punished the whole nation by letting other nations conquer and enslave them. The nation that provoked Moses and God in the wilderness continued provoking God in the Promised Land. 

The the poet concludes: 

     Many times God delivered them,
      but they were bent on rebellion
      and they wasted away in their sin.
  Yet he took note of their distress
      when he heard their cry;
  for their sake he remembered his covenant
      and out of his great love he relented.
  He caused all who held them captive
      to show them mercy (vv. 43-46).

The poet then offers a strong and unexpected conclusion: a prayer. Let’s pray with the poet.
  Save us, Lord our God,
      and gather us from the nations,
  that we may give thanks to your holy name
      and glory in your praise (v. 47). 

Yes, Lord, with the poet we confess the history of Israel, the history of the world, and our own history. Our sins and unfaithfulness have provoked you and landed us in trouble. In our despair, we tell you our sordid history. Hear our confession and deliver us, for in every age, your grace is new and undeserved. In judgment, O Lord, remember mercy. As we experience the consequences of our sin, remember to be kind to us. Lighten our darkness with rays of hope. 

Amen.

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

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

Psalm 105 is a recital of Israel’s history. I used to find it rather tedious and wondered why the poet thought it necessary to versify this material. Surely the history books were adequate. Couldn’t he be more creative with his poetry?

Re-reading the psalm recently, I learned it may have been written to encourage Israelites during the Babylonian exile. Let’s observe how the poet chose stories from history to hearten the discouraged exiles. 

The psalm’s history review begins with Abraham saying:
    God is mindful of his covenant forever. . .
    the covenant he made with Abraham
      his promise to Isaac. . .
    which he confirmed to Jacob as a statue,
      to Israel as an everlasting covenant (vv. 8-9). 

God made his promises when Abraham and his descendants were a little lost tribe in the vast land of Canaan. God protected them there, even rebuking kings, saying “Do not touch my anointed ones!” (v. 15). This sounds like the stories where Abraham passed off his wife as his sister, and God warned the local king not to take her into his harem (Gen. 20). If the Israelites in Babylon felt like a little lost tribe in a big, dangerous world, the poet’s message was, This is not a new experience for Israel or for God. He can handle it. He will be faithful to his forever promises. 

The writer next cites Joseph, whose brothers became annoyed that he was daddy’s favorite, and that he had dreams about becoming the family patriarch. When they sold him to Egyptian traders, his dreams were lost in exile, slavery, and prison. But God remembered him and made his dreams come true. Joseph became a powerful Egyptian ruler and saved his family and the whole country from famine. The message for exiles is that God who remembered Joseph in Egypt remembers you in Babylon, and he will help you. 

The poem moves to a third historical recital, the story of the Exodus, where Moses and God confronted Pharaoh with plagues until Pharaoh released God’s people from slavery. Then God helped them escape, taking them on an impossible journey through the Red Sea and the desert to the Promised Land. This God will one day free the exiles from Babylon and take them on their journey home. 

A striking feature of this psalm is how the poet edited Israel’s history. He deleted all the sin and rebellion! There is no mention of the evil Joseph’s brothers did or, of 4forty faithless years wandering in the desert. The poem recites only larger events that ended happily. Why? I think the exiles already knew how badly things go wrong. They needed encouragement and hope.

Let’s pray. 

Our father, you reminded the Israelites of their their history. You watched over Abraham when he was a stranger in a strange land. You protected Joseph as a prisoner and slave. You remembered your people in Egypt and led them to the Promised Land to worship you. 

Lord, we too are foreigners and exiles (1 Pet 2:11), for our citizenship is in heaven (Phil 3:20). Lead us through danger and deserts to the land you have promised. With the poet we pray:
    Bring us out with joy,
      your chosen ones with singing.
    Bring us to a place where we
      we can keep your statutes
      and observe your laws (vv. 43, 45, paraphrased).       

Amen.

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

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

Psalm 104 opens with an amazing description of God:
    The Lord wraps himself in light as with a garment;
        he stretches out the heavens like a tent
        and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.
    He makes the clouds his chariot
        and rides on the wings of the wind.
    He makes the winds his messengers,
        flames of fire his servants (vv. 2-4). 

These striking pictures of God playing in his creation. He dresses himself up in light. The heavens are the tent  he plays in. The upper story of his house goes right through the blue sky, with its joists fixed on the water above. He makes a chariot of the clouds and employs fire as his personal valet. He uses wind for the messaging app on his world wide web. God who created light, water, wind, clouds, and fire, now uses them for his clothes, transportation, servants, and messaging app.

Let’s pray some of the phrases from this psalm. 

Our God, we have seen wildfires in California and Australia and Siberia, driven restlessly by wind, consuming the plains and forests, sending smoke to the heavens. You are the God who rides on the wings of the wind, whose servants are flames of fire. 

The poet says:
    You water the mountains from your upper chambers;
       the land is satisfied by the fruit of your work.
    You make grass grow for cattle,
        and plants for people to cultivate. 
        The earth provides food:
     wine that makes our hearts glad
        oil that makes our faces shine,
        bread that sustains our hearts (vv. 14-15). 

You provide the necessities and luxuries of life: wine, oil, flour for bread. As Benjamin Franklin said, “Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incorporates itself with the grapes to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy!” 

The poet says,
    All creatures look to you
        to give them their food at the proper time. . . .
    When you open your hand,
        they are satisfied with good things.
    When you hide your face,
        they are terrified;
    when you take away their breath,
        they die and return to the dust.
    When you send your breath,
        they are created,
        and you renew the face of the ground (vv. 27-30).

We, like all creatures, Lord, receive our food from your hand. When your hand is open, we are satisfied with good things. When you hide your face, we are terrified. When you take away our breath, we return to dust. 

But when you send your spirit, we are born again, and you renew the face of the earth. 

O Lord, this is the mystery of life. Our bodies come from the ground, and our food grows in the ground, and our lives end in the ground. But our breath, our spirit comes from you. We try to own the ground from which we come, and manage the clay bodies we live in, but it is you who sets the limits of our lives. You breathed into us when we were dust, you sustain us on this dusty earth, and one day our breath will return to you. 

With the poet we pray,
  May your glory be forever, Lord,
      may you rejoice in the work of your hands (v. 31).
  Let us sing to you, Lord, while we live,
      let our hymn be of you as long as we have breath (v.33). 

Amen.

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

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

Psalm 103 opens with a well-known call to worship:
    Bless the Lord, O my soul,
        and all that is within me
        bless his holy name (v. 1). 

Some modern translations say “Praise the Lord” instead of “Bless the Lord”, but I prefer the word bless. I like the reciprocity, the relationship implied by mutual blessing: God blesses us, and we bless him back. When we feel God’s goodness in our lives, we respond by speaking blessing to others and back to God. Bless the Lord, O my soul. 

The poet blesses God for the good things he gives. God forgives, heals, redeems, crowns us with love and compassion, satisfies our desires with good things, and renews our life like the eagle’s (vv. 3-5). God’s blessings move us toward  lives of wholeness, health, and meaning. 

The poet, who has faced God’s anger and displeasure, does not give way to fear, but asserts positively:
  He will not always accuse,
      nor will he harbour his anger forever;
  he does not treat us as our sins deserve,
      or repay us according to our iniquities.
  For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
      so great is his love for those who fear him;
  as far as the east is from the west,
      so far has he removed our transgressions from us (vv. 9-12). 

Author Walter Brueggemann says, “Psalm 103 stuns those in the chaos of the exile with the proclamation that YHWH [God] acts out of compassion rather than a precise moral calculus. Divine generosity far outlasts the encounter with divine wrath” (Psalms, by Walter Brueggemann and William H. Bellinger, Cambridge University Press, 2018, Kindle, chapter “Psalm 103”). God doesn’t crunch the numbers, weighing our bad deeds against our good. He  forgoes punishing sin, he discards the memory of it, and acts with infinite love. 

Let’s pray to this generous God. 

   As a father has compassion on his children,
    so you have compassion on us, Lord.
  You know how we are formed,
    you remember that we are dust (vv. 13-14). 

Our father, where we have castigated ourselves for broken relationships, failed resolutions, and endless sin, we come to you for forgiveness, healing, and redemption. Where we have lived with long regret for things done and said, and for things not done and not said, we come to you. We remember your promise to satisfy our desires with good things and to renew our life like the eagles (v. 5). Satisfy us, Lord, with the healing of our bodies and minds, with the restoration of relationships, with growing character, and hearts at rest. Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days (Ps 90:14). 

The poet says,
    The life of mortals is like grass,
        they flourish like a flower of the field;
    the wind blows over it and it is gone,
        and it’s place remembers it no more.
    But from everlasting to everlasting
        your love is with those who fear you,
        and your righteousness with their children’s children (vv. 15-17). 

Yes Lord, we feel our lives and our world passing away like grass. The great American democracy drifts toward chaos, Russian politics revert to brutal dictatorship, and the Chinese empire assets its power in a violent world. Our bodies age, our loved ones decline, we attend more funerals than weddings. But your love, O Lord, is from everlasting to everlasting, and your righteousness with our children’s children. 

With poet John G. Whittier, we respond to your love, as he says:
    Yet, in this maddening maze of things,
        And tossed by storm and flood,
    To one fixed hope my spirit clings,
        I know that God is good.
    I dimly guess from blessings known,
        Of greater out of sight,
    And with the chastened psalmist own,
        His judgments too are right (The Eternal Goodness, lines 41-44, 53-56).. 

Judge us, O Lord, as you must, but in mercy and love, in kindness and gentleness. 

Amen.

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

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

Psalm 102 has a two-line title which describes it as:
    The prayer of an afflicted person who has grown weak
        and pours out a lament before the Lord. 

In this psalm, the poet is shaken to his core. He says,
    My days vanish like smoke;
        my bones burn like glowing embers.
    My heart is blighted and withered like grass; (vv. 3-4a).
    I eat ashes for food
        and mingle my drink with tears
    because of your great wrath. . . (vv. 9-10a). 

Sleepless nights. Tearful days. Starvation diet. Burning bones. Little wonder the poet feels his life is lost, vanishing like smoke in the wind. Shadows lengthen on his years. He withers in the heat of the day and passes into evening like sun-scorched grass. 

Not only is the poet shaken: his city, Zion, is also shaken. He prays for restoration, saying:
    You will arise and have compassion on Zion,
        it is time to show favour to her. . .
      For her stones are dear to your servants;
        her very dust moves them to pity (vv. 13a, 14).

Returning to his personal troubles, the poet contrasts his brief, painful, and ephemeral life with God’s eternity:
    In the course of my life, [the Lord] broke my strength;
        he cut short my days.
    So I said
    Do not take me away, my God, in the midst of my days;
        your years go on through all generations.
    In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth,
        and the heavens are the work of your hands.
    They will perish, but you remain;
        they will all wear out like a garment.
    Like clothing you will change them
        and discard them.
    But you remain the same,
        and your years will never end (vv. 23-27).

The poet frames the brevity and pain of his life against God’s eternity and creative activity. The poet’s life is wearing out. The world he lives in running down. The heavens above are aging and passing away. God made them all like a fashion show, where the costumes that dazzle the runway today will be discarded at the end of the season.

Let’s pray. 

O Lord, our life is smoke, a vapor that disperses in the air, a grass that withers and dies. We live a few short days, never achieving the glory you made us for, leaving no permanent trace of our passing. 

But you, O Lord, outlive the changes. The earth that to us is unshakeable will wear out like a garment, the heavens will collapse like clothes thrown in the laundry hamper. But your life and watchfulness outlast it all. You remain the same, your years will never end. 

With the poet we pray, 
     Do not hide your face from me
        when I am in distress (v. 2a).
    Do not take me away in the midst of my days (v. 24a). 
    May the children of your servants live in your presence;
        establish their descendants before you (v. 28). 

Amen.

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