Just you wait

In reading Psalm 58 this morning I was reminded of My Fair Lady. Now don’t rush off and read the psalm expecting to be similarly reminded. The connection is not obvious and will need some dot-connecting. The specific memory was of Eliza Doolittle’s both melodic and vitriolic diatribe, “Just you wait.” If you read the psalm now, the connection should be clearer.

Eliza in her anger and frustration at ‘enry ‘iggins, brilliantly and infuriatingly played by Rex Harrison, sings the song:

Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!
You'll be sorry, but your tears'll be to late!
You'll be broke, and I'll have money;
Will I help you? Don't be funny!
Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!

And it continues on. I am particularly fond of this number because it gives voice to my longing to hit Henry Higgins with a big stick.

The psalmist, like Eliza, wishes calamity on the wicked, indeed even more graphically so:

O God, break their teeth in their mouths;
pull the fangs of the young lions, O Lord.
Let them vanish like water that runs off;
let them wither like the trodden grass.

Psalm 58 is imprecatory (from the Latin to pray towards). The prayer here is a negative one and might be better described as a curse. While I might empathize or even sympathize with the sentiments and want to join Eliza in chorus, I remain a little uncomfortable. Jesus did tell us to love our enemies and to do good to those who hate us. It is hard to reconcile this to the imprecations of the 58^th psalm.

There is some value, however, in the words of the psalmist. First they remind us that he is not a pious fraud. Many believers spend a lot of energy lying to themselves and to others with phrases like “I don’t get angry, I just leave it with the Lord.” Or who refuse to even use words like angry and prefer the safer, more acceptable words like “frustrated.” Lying about how we really feel is not helpful. The scriptures do not say “do not be angry”, but rather, “in your anger, do not sin.” (Ephesians 4:26) The psalmist is angry and despises the wicked. That is very clear and it is clearly articulated before God. The problem with the pious fraud is that the anger comes out somewhere. Better it come out in prayer before God than in harsh words or behaviours towards others (including our enemies).

There is also a difference the psalmist’s cry and Eliza’s. Unlike the flower girl of Covent Garden, the psalmist is not making a plan, but rather a prayer. He is praying to God, who is the source of all justice. The psalmist is not planning to DO anything, but is pouring out his desire for justice before God. And we all long for justice. Where we see things amiss. Where there is unfairness or injustice we, quite rightly, long to see it changed. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.”

The imprecatory psalms are gritty, frank prayers to God ultimately for his justice and order in the world. The psalm concludes:

They (the righteous) will say,
Surely there is a reward for the righteous;
surely there is a God who rules the world.

How much farther?

I am a compulsive measurer. This came home to me on a recent bike trip from my home in Vermont to Acadia National Park in Maine. My road bike has a cycle computer which calculates distance, speed and records maximum speed. Knowing the distance we needed to travel each day and the approximate distance to the state park which was our nightly goal. Looking at the small screen I would be noting to myself or to the friend who was cycling with me, "One third of the way!"

Measuring has its benefits and its pitfalls. Besides being careful to measure everything, I am also rather goal-oriented. Here's the benefit to these two things together. At the end of each day when we were within 15 miles of our goal (and fortifying meal) I would get a second wind. Knowing both how far was remaining and that the goal was close gave me a boost. Without having something that measured our progress, I wouldn't really know how close we were and, therefore, no goal-fixated boost.

But trying to measure everything has its dangers. Some things cannot be measured, at least not easily. The Kingdom of God and its grow is notable among these. There are easy things we might measure and indicators: church attendance, turnout to certain events. But how does one measure growth in character, in obedience, in love? These might be observed but cannot be measured. Indeed measuring the growth of the Kingdom in numbers alone can be deceiving - a mile wide and an inch deep. Jesus said the Kingdom is like a mustard seed - tiny, but when it does grow, it becomes a haven for the bird of the air.

The other warning against compulsive measuring is that it tends to fix our attention on what we can do and what we can accomplish. My cycle computer tells me how fast I can go, what I can do. David fell to this temptation in taking a census (2 Samuel 24). At first glance, what is the big deal about measuring the people? Why not try to find out how many there are? But David's census was really to determine what his military might was. He was measuring to see what he could accomplish from a military perspective. David sin here was his trust in his own power and resources rather than God's.

It is a good and helpful thing to know the progress you are making. But neither progress nor our own capacities are gods. "Put not your trust in princes, nor in any son of man" (Psalm 146:3)

Get your own tools

David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them.“I cannot go in these, ” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off. -1 Samuel 17:39 (NIV)

I have the privilege of working with a group of lay preachers who share the preaching ministry in our church with me. One or two of them have had teaching and preaching experience before but to most of them (there are six), this has been a new enterprise. The privileges are many, but chiefly the Joy of working with people who want to learn and grow both in the craft of proclamation and in their own lives before God.

When I was still in seminary training, to be a good preacher was a great desire of mine (it still is) and to that end, I was trying hard to imitate the content and style of hood preachers I had heard. I followed, to little success, the advice of my homiletics professor and created a card index of sermon illustrations. It was all very disciplined and orderly and the right things to do - imitate those you wish to emulate and follow the best practices of those who know what they are doing. And it drove me mad.

Enter a pastoral supervisor I had in my last year of seminary. Merv understood that the proclamation of the word is not the following of a formula or set of practices. While talking about sermon preparation, he one day asked me, "How do you usually communicate in conversation?". "I like to tell stories and anecdotes." was my response. He then encouraged me to do just that in my preaching. What is at the heart of preaching is allowing the Word of God to be reflected through the prism of one's unique gifts and person. There is value in imitation and emulation, but I cannot be someone else in the pulpit.

David could not use Saul's armor and weapons. They were not his and he was not used to them. David was successful against Goliath because he had confidence in God (also central in preaching) and because he used the tools he was familiar with, a sling and some stones. Not the things recommended by the experts, but David's preferred and familiar weapons.

As I work with these lay preachers, my goal is not for them to use my tools as they preach the Gospel, but rather that they would discover the power and efficacy of their own.