1 Do not fret yourself because of evildoers; * do not be jealous of those who do wrong.
2 For they shall soon wither like the grass, * and like the green grass fade away.
3 Put your trust in God and do good; * dwell in the land and feed on its riches.
4 Take delight in God, * who shall give you your heart’s desire.
5 Commit your way to God and put your trust in God, * who will bring it to pass.
6 God will make your righteousness as clear as the light * and your just dealing as the noonday.
7 Be still before God; * for God wait patiently.
8 Do not fret yourself over the one who prospers, * the one who succeeds in evil schemes.
9 Refrain from anger, leave rage alone; * do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil.
10 For evildoers shall be cut off, * but those who wait upon God shall possess the land.
--Psalm 37 (St. Helena Psalter Edition)
'The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, `Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. "Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, `Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, `Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, `We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!'"
--Luke 17: 5-10
I love the Psalms! Whether we read them together, or antiphonally; whether it’s in our corporate worship on Sundays, or during the Divine Offices like Morning Prayer or Compline, the Psalms carry so much meaning; they are incredibly rich because they speak to the human condition. They’ve got it all. From joy to anger, from sadness to confusion, the whole spectrum of emotion is covered in the Psalms. They are usually my go-to book of the Bible when I’m in need of some guidance or when folks ask me for some.
This is true for Psalm 37, which was the appointed Psalm for this past Sunday (if you were using Track 2, that is!). It’s a Psalm that deals with emotions that I suspect many of us have wrestled with in these latter days; emotions like fear and worry. Children starving in Gaza. American troops deployed to American cities in the name of, allegedly, keeping the peace. Every day feeling more and more like we are moving closer to some horrific combination of The Handmaid’s Tale and Terminator. What can we do with such fear, worry, and fret about the present, yes, but especially the future? Blessedly, we have the Psalms, many of which are attributed to King David, himself someone who faced real existential fears, and more often than not, the poetry he and others composed speak a good word, even to where we are now.
David composing the Psalms from the Paris Psalter, an illustrated Byzantine manuscript.
It's right there in Psalm 37, in the first half of the first verse. “Do not fret yourself because of evil doers.” Do not fret yourself. Did you notice that those words occur 3 times in the 10 verses that we read. This is the prophetic voice of the Psalmist; we can imagine God speaking, both to the Psalmist and to us. Do not fret yourself. It reminds me of the very first words said by the angels whenever they come to earth in the stories of Scripture. Remember what those words are: “Be not afraid.” To know God is to know the peace that is beyond understanding, to know perfect love; which, of course, casts out fear. Do not be afraid of the things that evil folks are doing. When you look at the world and cannot understand why it is the way it is, take heart because God will, in God’s time and God’s way, bring all things to perfection, including the judgement of the wicked. Do not fret yourself.
That might be easier said than done. How can we possibly let go of our fretting in a time when it seems perfectly understandable? The Psalmist says to “put your trust in God and do good.” Take care of the things that we can take care of, focus on the good that we can do and trust God’s power to work in us and through us, even when we’re fretting. I come from a long line of worriers, so I get why this is tough. And I’m sure that the Psalmist was going through some stuff when they wrote this. If it was, in fact, David, maybe he was running for his life when Saul wanted him killed, or maybe he was feeling the weight of his own sinfulness. Whatever the case, the Psalm’s instruction is to put one’s trust in God, focus on doing good, and God will deal with the rest.
But how, then, do we really put our trust in God? One way—and this is my favorite part of the Psalm —is “be still before God; for God wait patiently.” To be still and wait patiently means just that, to remember that God’s timing is not our own, that we, blessedly, don’t have to have everything figured out, and that cultivating God’s brand of patience is, as someone once said, a virtue. To be still often means to stop for a minute and just breathe. Breathe in God’s mercy, breathe out God’s love. In my parish on Sunday we stopped in the middle of the sermon time and just breathed. Some closed their eyes, some had a soft, downward gaze. We were still. We noticed our breath, which made the very sound of God's own name: YA-WEH. We breathed in that stillness, releasing cares and concerns. We breathed out that patience, resleasing fear. Exercises like these can be a helpful and holy tool for centering ourselves and focusing on God's very presence within us, and it might be something you could try in in those moments of fretting.
We begin to let go of the fretting, and we begin to put our trust in God when we stop, when we’re still, and when we realize that God, as the old song says, has got the whole world in God’s mighty hands, including us. I think of the image Julian of Norwich saw when she heard the voice of Jesus tell her that all manner of things would be well. She saw God holding something as tiny as a hazelnut, which God said was all that has ever been or ever will be, all of it made for love. Those breaths we take remind us of that love, that God is already in us – some folks call this the Cosmic Christ, the Jesus that is present within all living things. We begin to put our trust in God when we relinquish our trust in our egos, in our own wants and desires, understanding that when we come before God, are enough. That, too, is something that can utterly cripple us when we consider the “evil schemes” of others, as the Psalm says. The thought that we aren’t enough, aren’t doing enough to overcome such evil, don’t have enough faith in God.
Jesus knew something about this. I imagine him taking a moment to pause, maybe even taking a breath himself, before he responded to the apostles asking him to increase their faith. I wonder if they were surprised when Jesus said that they didn’t need more faith, that even the tiniest seed is enough. What matters is to put whatever faith we have into practice when we can, to do what is ours to do and leave the rest to God. Think about the beginning and ending statements in our Gospel this week: “Increase our faith….We have done what we ought to have done.”
Much happens between all our beginnings and endings. Life builds us up and then wears us down. Love happens. Loss happens. Illusions of happily-ever-after move out and conflicted feelings move in. Hope for the journey gives way to despair, and we stumble and rise up and stumble again. Not unlike Jesus himself. And we pray once more for an increase of faith, to be freed of fretting.
Jesus reminds us that we are not the masters of God’s purposes in the world, merely the servants. We have enough faith to do what is ours to do, to serve what matters. We have, on our very breath, the name of God. We seek more faith, yes; but we also remember that even in the most troubling of times, we have not only Jesus’ example before us, but we have him within us. We have his very self on which we feast, bread and drink for our journey through the changes and chances of this life. And we have each other, companions on that journey.
When the world feels crazier than it usually is, when you feel like you don’t have enough, that you aren’t enough, maybe you will pause, breathe in God’s mercy, breathe out God’s love. Know that you are enough. Know that you have enough. Be still, and do not fret. God’s got you. God’s got us. And all manner of things will be well.
Later in our liturgy, we prayed one of my favorite prayers from our Book of Common Prayer, A Prayer for Quiet Confidence, and I close this blog entry with those same words, as a prayer for all of us during these troublesome times:
O God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray you, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
