Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16

1 In you, O Lord, have I taken refuge; let me never be put to shame; deliver me in your righteousness.
2 Incline your ear to me; make haste to deliver me.
3 Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe, for you are my crag and my stronghold; for the sake of your Name, lead me and guide me.
4 Take me out of the net that they have secretly set for me, for you are my tower of strength.
5 Into your hands I commend my spirit, for you have redeemed me, O Lord, O God of truth.
15 My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies, and from those who persecute me.
16 Make your face to shine upon your servant, and in your loving-kindness save me.

This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen.

Refuge

This Monday morning, I’m wondering where you might be experiencing a need for security, stability, protection. If you’ve looked at the news today, you would find all kinds of reasons to wonder about the shaking of the foundations, to wonder if things are falling apart, if the center will hold. In our individual lives, unscripted events can make us feel vulnerable to the changes and chances of life, with no place to hide, no shelter from the storm.
 
This, apparently, is nothing new. The psalm recited in church yesterday indicates that its author had been in serious need of help. Deliverance came to him from his relationship to the Holy One, who is described in a variety of images: tower, castle, refuge, stronghold, crag, rock. Those images of strength and safety are embraced with a deep trust, allowing the psalmist to say: Into your hands I commend my spirit (words of trust that Jesus spoke to the Father from the cross. See Luke 23:46). The psalmist indicates dependence on the Lord, with this admission: My times are in your hand.
 
What can we learn from this? How can we deepen that kind of trust?
 
It often starts with the realization that we have nowhere else to go. In the Gospel of John, we read that Jesus spoke to the multitude with challenging words. Many people left him. With crowd size dwindling, Jesus looks at his disciples and asked if they were going to leave as well. Peter, the disciple who never has an unexpressed thought, says: Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. In this moment, Peter knew he had nowhere else to go.
 
A deepened trust often starts with the realization that our own resources are limited. Maybe we’ve tried everything else. Maybe like a toddler we’ve said: I do it myself. Maybe we’ve found that an attitude like that just won’t go the distance, which may make us look for a tower, a castle, a stronghold outside or beyond or above ourselves.
 
A deepened trust can be bolstered by community, including whatever faith community we belong to. Sure, those communities can be flawed. We can all cite examples. But they nevertheless, perhaps in spite of themselves, can encourage confidence in the God who draws us together. We deepen trust as we consider the community of saints who have gone before, folks who over the centuries, have weathered the storm and found that God is indeed a refuge and strength (Read Psalm 46 if you need reassurance on this front). Our trust can be deepened by engagement with the stories in the Bible which tell us how people like Abraham, like Moses, like Peter, stepped out in faith, moving forward without knowing where God was leading, walking through waters, walking on water.
 
A deepened trust can come as we follow Jesus, exploring what it means these days to be one of his disciples. When I was a teenager, our family went through a rough patch, a shaking of the foundations of our life together. My mother, a woman of faith, tried to help us navigate these unscripted challenges. One of the ways she did that was by making us memorize the text of the hymn: How firm a foundation. I was adolescently annoyed by the task, but compliant. Decades later, the words stay with me as a kind of refuge. Especially this stanza: The soul that to Jesus has leaned for repose, I will not desert to my foes. That soul that all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no never, no never forsake. (Thanks, Mom). We deepen trust as we seek to follow Jesus with a closer walk. That may look different for each one of us, but that kind of relationship can be a safe space.

The deepening of trust is a spiritual practice. Like any practice, it is strengthened as it is exercised. I’m wondering what kind of exercise in trust you might practice this week. Let me know if you come up with any good suggestions. I’m still working on it.

- Jay Sidebotham