CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? (Psalm 61:1)

1 Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. (NIV)

Is anyone listening? Look around you. It doesn’t matter where you are or what time of day it is, just take a minute and look around. We’ve all become our own little islands. Blue-tooth enabled cell phones make it impossible to tell who’s having a conversation with who and whether or not you’re suppose to be included. Surround sound speakers drown out vain attempts at conversation. And Ipod umbilical cords firmly anchored in ears make it possible to be virtually alone in a crowded mall. All of us are either plugged in or tuning out something or someone other than those we’re with a large majority of the time. I’m not blaming technology, either. The problem isn’t new. Nearly thirty years ago when I was in high school and working part-time at our small town grocery store my boss demonstrated this to me. He responded to customers’ automatic “how are you?” with his own monotone, “terrible”. Ninety percent of the time they replied “that’s nice” and breezed ahead with their order at the meat counter he managed. What a rare and precious commodity it is to have someone give you their 100 percent, undivided attention! That’s why the psalmist’s plea in today’s verse strikes a chord. He just wanted to know that someone was truly listening to him, really hearing what was on his heart and giving him their complete attention. What a good reminder: sometimes it’s enough for us to just know God is there. To know that someone is listening. And that He cares.

BUS BULLY (Psalm 1:6)

6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.

(NIV)

Riding the school bus is one of those few childhood memories that contains a scene I like to replay in my mind. Only the “big kids” were allowed to sit in the back seats of the bus. It was a time-honored tradition that was enforced with iron-clad fervor like only the rules of childhood can be. As the bus neared the end of its route and seats emptied, older students relocated to the rear of the bus, claiming the coveted seats. They sat tall with one leg stretched out on the seat and their arm resting across the back, an emperor of their own little islands of green Naugahyde and paint-chipped steel tubing. Because our house was on the end of the route, there were always more empty rear seats than there were riders. So one day I decided that even though I wasn’t one of the “big kids” there was no reason I couldn’t shift to the back. My move didn’t go unchallenged, however and I soon found myself on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing from an overzealous sixth-grader. Out of nowhere, my older brother appeared, bloodied the sixth-grader’s nose and made it clear to everyone on the bus that his little brother “could sit anywhere he wanted.” Up to that point, my brothers had always pretended I didn’t exist at school and I had grown accustomed to my invisibility. I was a little brother, an embarrassment when they were around their friends. It wasn’t something we talked about. It was just understood. I never realized until that day that they were watching out for me. Again and again, through middle school and high school there were subtle reminders of their protection and, yes, even love. The psalmist ends Psalm 1 with the reminder that God is watching out for us. Not out of some legalistic obligation, but because he knows us and loves us. Even when we aren’t aware of it, even when we’ve gotten use to thinking of ourselves as invisible, God is there. And he’s ready to come in swinging and tell the whole world that his child can sit anywhere we want.

LIFE LIGHT (Psalm 1:4, 5)

4 Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. (NIV)

I slept with my head under the covers until I was sixteen years old. With three older brothers whose favorite game was “Let’s Scare Jeff”, I had good reasons to fear the dark! When they weren’t scaring me, I was busy terrifying myself. Moonlight peeking through the curtains and wind-bounced branches combined with my imagination to create the scariest monsters since Dracula. In the light of day or under the glare of a flashlight, these creatures were revealed for the innocent objects they were and it was easy to laugh at them, and myself. The only power my nighttime marauders really had was the power I gave them, in my own mind. It’s interesting to note the imagery the psalmist uses to describe the wicked in verse 4 of today’s reading. Does he describe them as horrible warriors mounted on thunder-pounding steeds or towering giants wielding bloody clubs? In the words of the psalmists, the wicked are chaff. That’s right - chaff. That stuff that covers the seeds of grain that gets blown away in the afternoon breeze and nobody ever sees again. Webster’s also defines chaff as “something comparatively worthless.” Yet when we think of the wicked, of our enemies, of those marshalling their forces against us don’t we envision them as hulking monsters, bigger than us, more powerful and intimidating? The psalmist reminds us that the only power they have is the power we give them, in our minds. In reality, they are nothing more than seedpods, husks, kindling for the hearth. It’s time to stop hiding under the covers. God has turned on the light.

TREE TRUTHS (Psalm 1:3)

3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. (NIV)

What are you afraid of? There have been several “Top Ten Fears” lists floating around the last few years. I was surprised to note that fear of failure wasn’t in the top ten. Yet, I’m sure it’s not only one of the more universally shared fears, but is also one of the most debilitating. Think about it for a minute. If you could do anything…ANYTHING…with no fear of failure, wouldn’t that change your life? Wouldn’t that be freeing? In verse three the godly are described as a tree that is free of failure; it produces fruit and doesn’t dry up. As a matter of fact, the psalmist goes on to tell us that “whatever he does prospers.” Doesn’t sound like failure to me. Right away our “but…” thinking kicks in to refute God’s promises to us. But… that sounds like the questionable prosperity gospel where believers are told to “name it and claim it” and everyone has a Cadillac and a mansion on the hill. But… prosperity only comes if you’re “planted by streams of water” and most of the time I feel far from God, not planted next to him. First, the prosperity God promises us isn’t limited to financial success. Psalm One is about being blessed and God’s blessings come in many sizes, shapes and forms. Secondly, the phrase translated “streams of water” means man-made watering canals specifically constructed for irrigation. These are located where they are FOR the trees; the trees don’t have to go looking for them. They’re already at their source of nourishment. We’re promised that we will: bear fruit, not wither, prosper whatever we do and are even planted right on the riverbank to guarantee our success.

So… What are you afraid of?