Psalm 34:1-14
1 I will bless the Lord at all times;
God’s
praise shall continually be in my mouth.
2 My soul makes its boast in the Lord;
let the humble
hear and be glad.
3 O magnify the Lord with me,
and let us exalt
his name together.
4 I sought the Lord, and he answered me,
and delivered me
from all my fears.
5 Look to him, and be radiant;
so your faces
shall never be ashamed.
6 This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord,
and was saved
from every trouble.
7 The angel of the Lord encamps
around those who
fear him, and delivers them.
8 O taste and see that the Lord is good;
happy are those
who take refuge in him.
9 O fear the Lord, you his holy ones,
for those who
fear him have no want.
10 The young lions suffer want and hunger,
but those who
seek the Lord lack no good thing.
11 Come, O children, listen to me;
I will teach you
the fear of the Lord.
12 Which of you desires life,
and covets many
days to enjoy good?
13 Keep your tongue from evil,
and your lips
from speaking deceit.
14 Depart from evil, and do good;
seek peace, and
pursue it.
"The Advent of Peace: A Whole Self"
When I think back on my
childhood, there are many fond memories.
But there is one particular memory I don’t enjoy: the struggle of having
to put on uncomfortable tights for dance class.
I took dance from about the age of 4 onwards and, while I loved dance
(and still do), I loathed those tights.
What activity did you parents put you up to as a child?
My favorite story of
compulsory childhood activities involves my mother. She’ll not mind me telling you that she is
not exactly what you’d call “musical.”
Her piano teacher might be to blame.
You see, she was strongly encouraged
by my Grandmother to go to piano practice every week, and she hated it the
whole time. She came home, again and
again, complaining that her teacher was just not nice, and didn’t even know her
name! “She calls me BARNEY!” she
complained. Her name is Bonnie. My grandmother replied that this was
ridiculous, there’s no way that teacher called her Barney.
But one day, my mom’s
complaints were gratified. She came home
with a sheet of piano music, with a large note from her teacher written in
pencil at the top: “Study these notes, Barney.” My mother never took another piano
lesson. That sheet of music is now
framed in her kitchen. You might call it
a last homage to her short-lived musical career.
The discipline of practice is
an important lesson for children to learn.
Kids today are no stranger to this: many of them live hectic childhoods
of practicing everything from dance to football to band to karate to
choir. These are all a good use of time,
but there’s one thing we should all be practicing, from age 1 to 101, at least
according to Psalm 34. We should practice peace.
This Psalm of David, that
king who wasn’t always the best at practicing peace, urges us to “depart from
evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.”
That Hebrew word “seek” is actually “practice.” And that word pursue is more accurately,
“follow in the way of.” Practice peace, and follow its way.
Easier said than done. David knew that. You see, once we grow up, we stop believing
practice is important. We venture into
the territory of “doing.” We begin
thinking that there is no time to practice: you either do something, or you
don’t. This sort of thinking leads us to
do those things that come most naturally: to be afraid much of the time, to
think ourselves too highly or too lowly, to raise our voices too quickly and
listen too slowly, to pray far too seldom and to put our lives and our families
in the center of it all.
We’ve grown up and forgotten
what it is to practice: to try and fail and try again, to push ourselves beyond
what we think we’re capable of, to admit that we’re not as good as we want to
be, to believe that living is not a game of winners and losers but instead a
journey we’re all on it together, one in which we might just discover our true,
whole selves by the end of it all, if we’re lucky.
Practice peace and follow in
its way. Can we do that this Advent? Can
we let the next 4 weeks be something different this year? Not a season of getting it all done, of
wearing ourselves out with buying and cooking and entertaining and doing,
doing, doing. But instead a season where
we practice peace. Starting with
ourselves.
You’ve surely heard the old
Native American proverb:
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One evening an old Cherokee man told his grandson
about a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, "My son, the battle is between
two "wolves" inside us all.
One is Evil.
It is anger, envy, jealousy, regret, greed,
arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment,
inferiority, lies,
false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good.
It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,
kindness,
benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion
and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute
and then asked his grandfather:
"Which wolf wins?"
The grandfather simply replied,
"The one you feed."
|
|
Which wolf will we feed this
Advent?
Our souls are hungry. We can feed them with all that money will
buy. We can feed them with false
security, with pride and ego and revenge.
We can feed them with clever arguments and self-righteousness. We can feed them with piety and feelings of
superiority. Or we can feed them with peace. That is the only way they’ll be
satisfied. That is the only way they’ll
be whole.
But a diet of peace, friends,
does not come naturally to us. Scripture
from Adam and Eve and that sneaky snake, to Cain and Abel, to David and Uriah,
all the way to an angry mob and a lonely cross, and the news any day of the
week, shows us that. We simply will not become people of peace
by willing it to be so. We have to
practice.
Sometimes, practicing peace
will be as uncomfortable as those old dance tights of mine, or my mom being
called Barney. It will mean listening to
our souls to discover why they are so angry so much of the time. It will mean recognizing when we are
defensive or demonizing others, and pausing to ask God’s forgiveness instead of
raising our voice even louder. It will
mean keeping our tongue from evil and our lips from speaking deceit.
But with each practice, each
moment of forgiving ourselves and someone else, each attempt to learn something
new about someone we’re afraid of, each choice to feed the right wolf inside of
us, we will get a little better at it, with God’s help.
And maybe, if we really work
at it and trust God to work, too, we’ll find what we and this world most need
this Christmas (more than another pair of socks): wholeness. Enough shalom –
peace, wholeness – for our weary souls, for our weary church, for our weary
community, and for our weary world.
Each week during this season
of Advent, we are going to practice peace together. This week, I encourage you to recognize how
true the line of the old song is: “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.” It all begins with you, with me, with
us. We first have to practice peace
ourselves, within our own bodies, minds and souls.
So, each morning of this
coming week, I invite you sit down in a quiet place for a few moments (that
means no cell phone, tablet or tv), close your eyes and ask God, “What within me is not at peace?”
Then – and here’s the trick –
don’t answer for God. Don’t talk. Don’t think about your grocery list or your
next appointment or your grandchild or your breakfast. Instead, sit in silence and ask again, until
your soul is quiet, “What within me is not at peace?”
Practice this prayer every
day, whether you feel like it or not.
And trust that each day, you’ll get a little better at listening to your
spirit and the Holy Spirit. Perhaps then
all of the other demands on your life will take their proper place: not as ways
to bring you peace or buy contentment, but as actions that grow from a
peaceful, healthy soul like nourishing plants growing from rich soil.
And, as you ask, listen. Listen throughout your day, in the busy
grocery store line, in the clogged traffic circle, in the face of a friend at
the gas station, on the tennis court or golf course, in the darkening nights,
in the shining stars, in that silent moment before sleep, in the first second
your eyes open in the morning.
Listen. Even if the answer scares you, even if you’ve
run from it for a very long time, listen.
Practice praying for peace in your soul.
And then, when you have
really heard your own soul, remember the best news of all: Someone is
coming. That Someone is not the King of
Conflict; he’s not the Ruler of Revenge, or the President of Power.
He is the Prince of Peace,
and he is coming, even now. Amen.
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