Psalm 119: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

I have always identified with Peter, he of the brash statement and subsequent belly flop. After one too many fruitless promises to God, I now just start laughing whenever I start making one of these inner vows and I feel like God is laughing with me. Not in a mocking way but in the intimate way that those closest to us can get away with when our foibles are revealed. Kind of like this, me: "What was I thinking?" God: "Yeah, what were you thinking?" Guffaws all around. It is at this moment of clarity when my delusional fog has been lifted by the light of his love that I hold out my hand and ask for help. Psalm 119 is one of my favorites because it really illustrates this pattern of human failure and divine intervention.

At first glance the psalmist appears to be one of those annoyingly pious jerks we'd all love to throttle. "Early in the morning before the sun is up, I am praying and pointing out how much I trust in you. I stay awake through the night to think about your promises." Just in case their was any confusion about his elevated spiritual state that has transcended the need for a little shut eye he also declares, "At midnight I will rise to give my thanks to you for your good laws." My reaction to this guy would be something like, "go ahead retard, just don't wake me up." He makes such bold declarations as, "With my lips I recount all the laws that come from your mouth," "I will never forget your precepts" and "My soul is consumed with longing for your laws at all times." Granted, it was a different culture, a different time, but this is still a human being, and that is what makes these statements so ridiculous. But then he gets honest, and it is beautiful. "Open my eyes, teach me, let me understand, strengthen me, direct me, sustain me, redeem me, deliver me, defend my cause, preserve my life." These are just snippets of his many cries for help in his quest for holiness. Consider the absolute dependence in "turn my eyes away from worthless things", and "turn my heart towards your statutes." "Turn me;" this is the request of a man who has lost the use of his limbs and cannot look out the window without assistance. It is the deeper meaning behind the cries of an infant on his back too long. Absolute dependence. And here lies the true picture of our relationship with God. Left to our own devices we have neither the desire nor the willpower to follow him. He sweeps in and there is this fragrance in the air, desire is born, a hunger acquired. He throws us on his back and we soar, our hearts light and free, and then somewhere along the way we mistake his power for ours. I am writing this not so much for you, this is something I've got to declare. I can do no good thing on my own. I have evidence. So why is it so hard for me to bend my knee? To rest? When flying, why do I think it is my wings that take me to "such great heights"? And after falling so many times, why do I persist in this arrogance?

It is because of this internal battle that I identify so strongly with the apostle Peter and with the father in Mark 9 who exclaims the great paradox, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" Jesus woos us to himself with a persistant, undeterred grace and we respond presenting him with all that we can muster, a mustard seed at best, and full of impurities at that. He takes this imperfect microscopic offering and he breathes life into it and it begins to grow and as it grows our capacity to love Him grows with it. Grace, undeserved love. Absolute dependence. Turn me towards the light that I might live.

"Keep me far from every wrong; help me undeserving as I am, to obey your laws, for I have chosen to do right. I cling to your commands and follow them as closely as I can. Lord, don't let me make a mess of things. If you will only help me to want your will, then I will follow your laws even more closely... I have wandered away like a lost sheep, come and find me." -From Psalm 119:29-32, 176 Living Bible