Psalm 63 – Longing for Assembly

April 12, 2013

The ancient compilation Apostolic Constitutions (2.59) advises believers to gather for daily worship and to open their service with Psalm 63. Reflecting the same time period (ca. 400 CE), Chrysostom reports that believers sang this Psalm at the begining of their morning assemblies (Commentary on Psalms, cv. 63). It is still part of the communal daily morning prayers of the Greek Orthodox Church. The church, through this Psalm, has expressed the fervant yearning to assemble with the saints in the presence of God.

The use of the Psalm at morning gatherings is rooted in the Hebrew verb “seek.” The term projects an image of one who rises at dawn to seek God. The early Greek translation (LXX) rendered it, “I rise early for you.” In other words, God–or gathering with the saints to seek God–is the first thought on the mind when the Psalmist rises every morning. Our first thoughts, if we follow the model here, are about God. We rise to meet God. We yearn to meet with other believers to share in the prayers and praises.

The Psalm, however,  is set in the wilderness; it is prayed by one whose life is threatened by the wilderness or the circumstances that created the wilderness.  The wilderness is not only a concrete reality for the Psalmist but also a metaphor for the spiritual anxiety permeating the author’s soul. The felt need is deeply rooted in the psyche of the Psalmist. We hear the voice of lament in these opening lines.

Separated from community and from the presence of God at the sanctuary, the Psalmist thirsts for God’s presence like a parched wanderer in the desert. This yearning is so deeply felt that it is like an unquenched thirst. The deep need to experience God reverberates through the body; the spiritual desire has a somatic effect. The body trembles, even faints, due to the lack of spiritual nourishment.

This thirst, however, is not created merely by the seeming absence of God but by the concrete absence of community in the presence of God. It is the absence of assembly before God with other believers that spiritually troubles the Psalmist. Without assembly the Psalmist is restless, distressed, and dissatisfied.

So, what the Psalmist longs for is not an individual experience but a corporate one. The Psalmist longs for the sanctuary of God, the place where God dwells. Divine encounter is like a drink for a thirsty person; it is a satisfying meal of rich (fatty) food! Assembling for worship in the presence of God is spiritual nourishment.

The Psalmist remembers a time, and longs for future moments, when the glory of God was experienced. To “see” God–to behold divine power and glory–is an experiential metaphor. God is revealed in the congregational experience of worship. We hear, see, and taste God there.

Through such worship, the Psalmist learned to confess:  “your hesed (love) is better than life.” Believers confess this in the midst of worship and it is worship which forms and shapes that confession.  The early church heard this on the lips of its martyrs, but this is not simply about physical life or delieverance from death. Rather, it is fundamentally about a divine relationality who faithfully (loyally) loves. It is covenantal language. This love (covenant loyalty) or divine faithfulness is true life. Authentic life leans into that divine faithfulness and comittment. We confess through worship that God is the center of authentic life.

The experience of hesed in the temple (sanctuary) is a practical and spiritual obsession for the Psalmist. Nights are filled with meditations as well as the recognition that this hesed has perserved the Psalmist’s life in the wilderness. Consequently, praise falls from the lips as well as up-lifted palms. Both lips and hand express our worship.

Worship reminds us that God is with us. We rejoice under the shadow of God’s wings even as we sleep with our fears throughout the night. While the Psalmist is pursued by enemies, we are often pursued by our fears. Fear subverts faith; unbelief gives birth to fear. We often fail to trust.

The Psalmist expects those fears to dissipate as enemies disappear. Nan Merrill (Psalms for Praying, 116) offers this dynamic equivalent for contemporary readers of this Psalm. What the enemy was to the Psalmist is what our fears are to us. But worship–divine encounter–transforms fears. “The fears that seem to separate me from You shall be transformed and disappear; As they are faced, each fear is diminished; they shall be gone as in a dream when I awaken.”

We pursue God in the wilderness and we yearn for the satisfying feast–both drink and food–in which our restless souls find peace in union with God. To encounter God in the sanctuary as part of a community with other believers is to experience joy and satisfying peace.

This experience is not dependent upon how well the songs are sung or even which songs are sung. It is not dependent upon whether the service is “boring” or “exciting.” It is not even dependent upon the excellence of the leaders though we value the giftedness of the community. Rather, it is dependent upon the gracious presence of God who comes to us through the praises of the saints. Worship is authentic because God is present and not because we have performed so well.

Only God’s presence satisfies thirst and dispels fears. This is for what humanity longs–peace, rest, satisfaction. Psalm 63 leads to the fountain that quenches thirst.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Amos 5:18-27: The First Woe

March 21, 2013

This text begins the third major section of Amos. In the first section (Amos 1-2) the prophet addressed eight nations and climaxed his message with an extended application to Israel. In the second section (Amos 3:1-5:17) the prophet declares the word of the Lord in three brief speeches (“hear this word” in 3:1, 4:1 and 5:1) as he focused on the coming divine visitation, its rationale, and lament. Now, in this third section, Amos offers two prophetic woes against Israel. The first is found in Amos 5:18-27 and the second in Amos 6:1-14.

Each Woe oracle contains two components.  Each begins with the Woe itself and is then followed by a further pronouncement. The first Woe (5:18-20) is followed by an indictment (5:21-27) while the second Woe (6:1-7) is followed by a judgment proclamation (6:8-14).

Woe oracles function as either curses, warnings, or both. Woes pronounce judgment but at the same time warn about participation in the community to which the Woe is addressed.  Woes, then, are both exhortations and imprecations.

The Woe (5:18-20).  The first Woe declares the nature of the “day of Yahweh.” Apparently many are hoping and yearning for that day. They are under the illusion that the day will be good for them. Perhaps they believe that the “day of Yahweh” will be the day when God defeats the nations that surround them or that day will secure their safety, wealth, or power. Whatever they imagined that day to be or its circumstances, they believed its arrival would be in their own self-interest. But they are mistaken and deluded.

For Israel the “day of Yahweh” is darkness rather than light. It will not be redemption but judgment. It will not be a day of light as in the day of creation when everything is new or renewed. Rather, it will be a day of darkness, a day of chaos, death and destruction. This is uncreation, the reversal of creation itself. Though God created Israel, he will now uncreate them.

Further, the effects of the day, like the day itself, will be unavoidable. One might think they could run from it like they might run from a lion, but they will only meet a bear instead. They may even arrive home and think the danger has passed only to be bitten by a snake in the security of their own home. There is no escape. Yahweh’s day will come and it will complete its work despite all human attempts to avoid, flee, or escape it.

The Indictment (5:21-27). The structure of the indictment is: “I hate this…but I want this!” God hates their festive celebrations of divine grace through the sacrificial system, but he wants justice and righteousness to flow over the nation like an everlasting life-giving stream of water.

What does God hate? We must be careful that we do not miss the rhetorical intent here. We could literalize this in such a way that God hates all (1) assemblies, (2) sacrifices, and (3) music. Of course, God does not hate any of these per se. Each of these are present in the life of Israel as prescribed responses to God’s grace in their lives. The Torah directs Israel  to assemble (Leviticus 23:26) and sacrifice (Leviticus 1-7). The use of music–both singing and playing–was present at least from the time of David forward (2 Chronicles 7:6; Amos 6:5) and is part of the Psalter (Psalm 150). God did not literally hate or despise these; indeed, God enjoyed them as Israel assembled in the presence of God (Deuteronomy 27:6-7).

So, what does God hate? The contrast answers the question. God hates assemblies that lack justice. He hates Israel’s assemblies because they approach  God with hands stained with injustice. God refuses sacrifices from those who do not practice righteousness. God stops his ears to music played by a community that neglects or oppresses the poor. God desires assemblies, sacrifices and music, but they must flow from a people who practice justice and righteousness.

But what is “justice” and “righteousness” in this context? This is the language of Amos 5:7. The words are primarily focused on how the community treats the poor and needy among them. The larger meaning is ethical. Justice has a broad sense of practicing the ethical intent of the Torah while righteousness has the sense of doing what is right (ethical). In general, God desires a people whose ethic reflects God’s own and the practical effects of that lived ethic flows like water through a thirsty community.

The practice of injustice subverts true religion and invalidates religiosity . Assemblies, sacrifices and music offered by those who fail to practice righteousness are rejected.

The rhetorical question of Amos 5:25 solidifies the point. The expected answer to the question is “No.” Amos believes that during the forty years of wilderness wandering Israel offered no sacrifices. It appears the sacrificial system was designed for living in the land of promise and not for the wilderness experience. Whatever the history, Amos’s point is rather obvious. God’s covenantal relationship with Israel did not depend on their assemblies, sacrifices and music. Rather, it is expressed through covenant faithfulness to justice and righteousness.

Indeed, Israel’s covenant unfaithfulness is not only about injustice and unrighteousness but also their idolatry. Whether Israel in the wilderness (Acts 7:42-43), in the present, in the future exile “beyond Damascus” (Assyria) worshipped the Babylonian gods Sikkuth and Kaiwan, they will be exiled because of their covenant unfaithfulness. They did not honor the name of Yahweh who is the God of the armies of heaven. Yahweh is the Creator God who rules the nations. To worship any other god is to break covenant.

This Woe oracle speaks to the heart of worship. God delights in assemblies, sacrifices of praise, and music, but these are expressions of worship rather than its heart. The heart of worship is the practice of justice and righteousness; it is a sacrificed life devoted to good works. God delights in praise and sacrifices of assembled practitioners of justice, but despises those who assemble before him with spoils gained from the neglect or the oppression of the poor.

Let whoever has an ear to hear, listen to the word of the Lord.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Six Theses on Creation: A Theology for Heralding the Coming Kingdom of God

October 25, 2011

This week I am participating in a wonderful conference on preaching the paradigmatic texts of Scripture. The focus of this particular conference is creation.  Walter Brueggemann is the featured speaker and his presentation last night on Psalm 104 was excellent. Other speakers include Ken Durham, John York, David Fleer and Rhonda Lowry. Everyone has done a wonderful job.

I made a presentation entitled “A Confessional Theology of Creation for Heralding the Coming Kingdom of God.”  For those who are interested, click Lipscomb Creation Lecture for a copy.

The six theses are:

1.    God creates the heavens and the earth as a dwelling place in which God comes to rest.

2.   God creates a telic dynamic reality that is good but not perfect.

3.   God creates humanity as a partner in the dynamic processes of created reality.

4.   God creates a material reality designed to mediate a divine-human communion experienced within and through creation.

5.    God creates amidst a continuing chaos under which the creation itself, along with God’s human partners, groans and yearns for liberation, which is the telos of creation.

6.   God creates, even now though not yet fully, a new heaven and new earth through the ministry of Jesus and the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Old is Good, New is Better: Creation and Sacraments

November 18, 2010

Created materiality is good; indeed, it is very good. It is not simply good in an ethical sense but delightful and wonderous. God created the world as a temple in which to dwell, a place where God and humanity would enjoy each other, delight in the wonder of the world, and rest within it.

Materiality, rather than something to be discarded in the end, was designed as a means by which finite, material humans would participate in the communion of God’s life. Creation was not an addendum or a secondary reality but the reality through which humans would experience God and become like God.

But, alas, creation is now broken. It is still good, but broken. It is enslaved, infected with chaos, and subjected to frustration. Nevertheless, creation still performs its role–it is a means by which we participate in the life of God. We still experience God through creation as, for example, when we experience the beauty of God’s creation. We experience God in the little things of creation as well as in its majestic views. Yet, creation is broken. It is filled with pain, hurt, tragedy and death. It is frustrating and we yearn for liberation as creation itself groans for renewal and redemption.

Despite its brokenness, God affirmed the goodness of creation through the incarnation. God became flesh–material. The Son became part of the creation itself, lived within the creation and experienced the Father through creation.

More than this, the Son became new creation. He inaugurated new creation as the new human who was raised from the dead and seated at the right hand of God. The Son is new creation, the new Adam, the new human.

This is where the sacraments become a meeting place between the old and new creations–an encounter moment where God offers humans living in the broken, old creation an experience of the new creation through the exalted Jesus.

The Eucharist is bread and wine, but it is more than bread and wine.  It is not “regular” meal. We may experience God through any meal–whether it is the nightly family meal, the church pot-luck or thanksgiving dinner! Old creation is still good and is still a medium of God’s presence in the world. But the Eucharist is more.

The Eucharist is the experience of new creation. The bread and wine of the old creation become means by which we experience the reality of the new cration. It is still bread and wine–created materiality is not annihilated–but it is also a participation in the reality of the new creation through the presence of Christ.  Whether we think of that presence in the bread, through the bread or at the table is inconsequential to my point here. The Eucharistic meal is a new creation meal that does not annihiliate materiality or creation. Rather, it transforms it, liberates it and brings it to its telos (goal).

Baptism is water but is more than water. It is not a “regular” dip in water. We may experience God in the shower or through a warm, long hot bath.  Old creation is still good and is still a medium of God’s presence in the world.  But Baptism is more.

Baptism is the experience of new creation. The water of the old creation becomes a means by which we experience the reality of the new creation. It is still water–created materiality is not annihilated–but it is also a participateion in the reality of the new creation through our union with Christ. In or through Baptism we participate in the eschatological death and resurrection of Jesus. We rise from the watery grave to live as new creatures; participants in new creation. Baptism is a new creation bath in water that does not annihiliate materiality or creation. Rather, it ushers us, by the Spirit, into the reality of the new creation where we are raised to sit with Christ in heavenly places at the right hand of God.

Assembly is gathering of people but it more than a mere gathering.  It is not simply a group of people “hanging out.” We may experience God through haning out with friends, even going to ballgames and playing in God’s good createion. Old creation is still good and it is still a medium of God’s presence in the world.  But Assembly is more.

Assembly is the experience of new creation. The gathering of God’s people within the old creation becomes a means by which we experience the reality of the new creation. We are still living here in this broken, old creation but through that gathering of material creatures we participate in the reality of the new creation through union with the eschatological assembly of God around the throne of God. Through Assembly we enter the holy of holies as a community and join the community that is already and eschatologically gathered there. We participate in the Sanctus of the angels and join the heavenly chorus, singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Neither our materiality nor our creatureliness is annihilated. Rather, through creation we participate in new creation as the Spirit of God takes into the throneroom of  God just as John was lifted there “in the Spirit” in the Apocalypse.

The Eucharist, Baptism and Assembly are meeting places.  They are places, by the promise of God, where God meets us in this old, broken creation in order to experience–to taste, to get a glimpse of–the new creation. They are moments of both authentic participation in the new creation as well as anticipations (hope) of the fullness of new creation.

Through the sacraments, God authentically communes with us and promises that one day the brokenesses of creation will pass away and all creation will be liberated and renewed.

This is why I love the sacraments–they are gifts of God through which we experience new creation and anticipate the new heaven and new earth. They are injections of hope in a broken world, previews of coming attractions, and proleptic experiences of what is to come.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Table Reflections: Jesus Serves the Table

September 27, 2010

In my previous two posts I suggested three perspectives from which we might view the table:

  1. Jesus on the Table–the sacrifical victim who nourishes us with new life
  2. Jesus at the Table–the hospitable host who welcomes all to the table
  3. Jesus serving the Table–the master who waits on tables

Today: Jesus Serves the Table.

Luke 22:24-30 is a fascinating text if for no other reason than that the disciples are arguing about who was the “greatest” in the kingdom while sitting at the same table with Jesus. Surely no believer ever does that anymore! :-)

But another reason this text fascinates me is that the instruction here is also given by Matthew (20:20-28) and Mark (10:35-45) but at an entirely different moment in Jesus’ life. They both use it as a response to the sons of Zebedee (and/or their mother!) who requested a prominent place in the kingdom for her sons. Both Matthew and Mark contextualize the kind of service Jesus provides and models in his act of giving his life as a ransom (Mark 10:45; Matthew 20:28). Luke puts a different spin on it.

Luke contextualizes this saying of Jesus by referencing the meal. While Matthew and Mark note that Jesus, unlike the kings and benefactors, serves others by dying for them, Luke notes that Jesus serves other by the way he conducts himself at the table. “For who is greater,” Jesus says, “the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27).

Jesus waits on tables; he served the table of his disciples. Perhaps, if we bring John 13 into this (which may not be good exegetical hermeneutics), we see this through his washing of their feet. Or, perhaps, Luke means that Jesus served as a deacon (a waiter) in this moment. He waited on the disciples as they sat at table. Jesus is a servant because he waits on tables.

I think this is exactly what Luke means and there is an earlier indication in the Gospel that this is his point. In Luke 12:33-40 Jesus tells a parable about a returning Master for whom the servants are watching. We might expect the parable to recount how when the Master returns, the servants will wait on him. But we get the opposite. When the Master returns, the Master prepares to serve, sits them at the table, and “waits (diakonesi) on them” (12:37).

What an eschatological portrait! When Jesus returns, the reigning King will serve the community of faith at table. The Messiah will be the waiter at the Messianic banquet! The wonder of that thought draws me to praise and adoration as well as gratitude.

We might find some rational comfort in thinking that as the Messiah incarnate in the flesh Jesus would demonstrate servanthood by waiting tables. That seems to fit–he did wash feet after all. But that in the eschaton Jesus is still waiting tables–that does not seem to fit….except that servanthood is the heart of God. When Jesus waits on tables, it reflects the kind of servant leadership that is part of God’s own nature. God is a servant and calls us to serve just Jesus served.

Waiting and serving tables. The chuch still does this in its assemblies as well as in its potlucks, service to the poor, and in our homes. Unfortuantely, however, serving the table in the assembly has often been equated with some kind of clerical or gender authority. Waiting tables belongs to all disciples as servants rather than any particular gender or class of clerics.

We are called to serve as Jesus served–giving his life for us but also waiting tables. It is a shame that some lay persons and most women are excluded form the latter while still expecting the former of them. It seems that the only tables most laity and women are not permitted to serve are those in the assembly of the church even while they are expected to serve all other tables. What a crying shame.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

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