Psalm 116:1-8 Page 759, BCP
I love the LORD, because he has heard the voice of my supplication, *
because he has inclined his ear to me whenever I called upon him.
The cords of death entangled me;
the grip of the grave took hold of me; *
I came to grief and sorrow.
Then I called upon the Name of the LORD: *
“O LORD, I pray you, save my life.”
Gracious is the LORD and righteous; *
our God is full of compassion.
The LORD watches over the innocent; *
I was brought very low, and he helped me.
Turn again to your rest, O my soul, *
for the LORD has treated you well.
For you have rescued my life from death, *
my eyes from tears, and my feet from stumbling.
I will walk in the presence of the LORD *
in the land of the living.
By Ann Fontaine
Sometimes in church I take off on my own tack during the service, especially if I am in the congregation and not presiding or preaching. Sunday, September 14, was one of those days. We read this psalm in unison and I went over to a corner in my mind – struck by the words.
Perhaps it was because this was the Sunday closest to 9/11 and I have been thinking about all those people who were just doing their day when life stopped for them. Whether for the people who actually died or their families, friends, or colleagues – the prayer of the psalmist seems empty. God did not save their lives – they did not continue in the land of the living.
How do I pray psalms of protection knowing that God does not work this way as far as I have ever experienced? I cannot believe in a God who pulls some out of the plane crash and not others. Although I would love to be rescued from death in most circumstances, I believe we are mortal and things happen that take our life away. The LORD does not seem to watch over the innocent or the guilty for that matter. Grief and sorrow do overwhelm many – even the faithful. So where does that leave me with this particular psalm and its plea?
Tuesday I attended a session of Lectio in Manzanita, OR with members of St. Catherine’s Episcopal Church and others. When St. Catherine’s moved to their new building after years in this space in a small beach town strip mall, some members took over the rent to use for a spirituality center, space for workshops and art gallery. Surrounded by trees and beach homes the interior is light and filled with the prayers and work of years. Gathered with eight others on a sunny fall morning, following some meditation exercises and much to my surprise, we sat in silence with the line from the psalm:
Then I called upon the Name of the LORD: *
“O LORD, I pray you, save my life.”
It was a great opportunity to continue my Sunday contemplation. What do I want from God when I ask for something that seems contrary to my experience of what God will provide? I love the psalms, as they seem to speak to the true human condition more that any other part of the Bible. They range from terror and fear to the desire for terrible revenge when offended, from abject shame at one’s own offenses to joy and praise to God and to awe at the grandeur of creation. No human emotion is left out of these songs and meditations. They also offer endless puzzles in their contradictions and paradoxes about the nature of God.
As I sat with the lines from the psalm, I heard, “Call, Name, Save, Life” and began to listen to them over and over somewhat like reciting a mantra – not really thinking consciously or linearly about the words.
Later we shared our thoughts about our time together and the passage. My experience was one of more questions. To whom am I Calling? By what Name is that One known to me? What is it to be Saved? What at the core is Life?
In this moment, for me – the word “God” is more like a pronoun with few antecedents. I know my life is less anxious and fearful and more fulfilling when I follow Jesus as I see him revealed in the Gospels and in the breaking of bread in community. Grandmother is the name that most embodies the unconditional love that I have experienced in my life of faith. Ocean speaks to me of the power to give and take away life, the terror and the awe, that is part of the Holy. I have used other names but those are core. My prayers are more like ongoing dialogues (hopefully not monologues) than petitions.
As I think about the word “Saved” I hear it as healing and wholeness, not so much about afterlife. When we enter into the fullness of life with God – we will be fully ourselves in the way that God intended. I believe we experience glimpses of that fullness as we live a life of faith, much as St Paul says “in a mirror darkly.” Life is what I am given in this time and this space and asking God to save it seems more a prayer to live it fully in this moment, not obsessing about the past or anxious about the future. When I can be in this place, I feel aligned with some greater life, in tune with the dance of the universe whether rejoicing or sorrowing, singing or lamenting. I can’t hang onto it by myself – it takes something that encompasses all of us and fills the spaces between us.
This is where I am with my puzzle today. Maybe tomorrow I will receive a few more letters that will make it more clear – like the online Scrabble™ games I like to play with my friends and family.
The Rev. Ann Fontaine, Diocese of Wyoming, keeps what the tide brings in. She is the author of Streams of Mercy: a meditative commentary on the Bible.