Psalm 30
1 I will exalt you, O Lord, because you have lifted me up
and have not let my enemies triumph over me.
2 O Lord my God, I cried out to you,
and you restored me to health.
3 You brought me up, O Lord, from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.
4 Sing to the Lord, you servants of his;
give thanks for the remembrance of his holiness.
5 For his wrath endures but the twinkling of an eye,
his favor for a lifetime.
6 Weeping may spend the night,
but joy comes in the morning.
7 While I felt secure, I said, "I shall never be disturbed.
You, Lord, with your favor, made me as strong as the mountains."
8 Then you hid your face, and I was filled with fear.
9 I cried to you, O Lord;
I pleaded with the Lord, saying,
10 "What profit is there in my blood, if I go down to the Pit?
Will the dust praise you or declare your faithfulness?
11 Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me;
O Lord, be my helper."
12 You have turned my wailing into dancing;
you have put off my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy.
13 Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing;
O Lord my God, I will give you thanks for ever.
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. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.
This saying has been attributed to Oscar Wilde, John Lennon, the Brazilian writer Fernando Sabino, another Brazilian author Paulo Coelho, and others. The statement has turned up on the television series “Judging Amy” and in the 2011 film “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.”
Any number of folks might take credit, but at its heart, it’s a biblical idea. It’s the story of the parting of the Red Sea when the children of Israel thought they were goners, or the resurrection of Jesus when on Good Friday, the disciples thought they had made a big mistake. It’s the message of that famous chapter from Ecclesiastes that the Byrds turned into popular anthem: To everything (turn, turn, turn) there is a season…A time to weep and a time to laugh. It’s the message of the beatitudes as Jesus says that those who mourn are blessed for they will be comforted.
Even when things look grim, the prospect of a hopeful ending can be found throughout the psalms, and especially in a psalm which was part of lectionary selections you may have heard in church yesterday (reprinted above). The psalmist says that weeping may spend the night, but joy comes in the morning. He recalls times he felt absolutely secure, and times when he felt God had deliberately hidden from him. He knows wailing and he knows dancing. He’s clothed himself in sack-cloth and he has been clothed with joy. I’m wondering this Monday morning where you find yourself.
Emily Dickinson said that she believed and disbelieved a hundred times an hour. She said it made her faith nimble. Let's just say she knew a range of spiritual experiences. After the death of Mother Teresa, it was revealed that she spent much of her life in despair, feeling that God had hidden from her. Sounds like that’s the way the psalmist felt. It seems to me a great gift of the psalms in particular that the full range of human emotions and experience are represented. Among other things, it helps us when we feel more like wailing than dancing to know that there will be a time when the dance floor will be open.
We need help navigating those darker passages. It may help to realize that other folks have gone through those passages for a long time. It may help to know that Jesus had moments of agonizing uncertainty in the garden of Gethsemane. And when we have come through those moments, when morning has broken with joy, we may develop a deeper sense of empathy for those who are still in the depths.
This Monday morning, prayers are with those who are doing more weeping than dancing. The despair may have to do with personal circumstances. It may have to do with the state of our broken world. Our prayer is that the quote from John Lennon (or whoever) is more than Hallmark card sentiment, more than wishful thinking. We pray that it reveals a fundamental truth expressed so beautifully in the 14th century by Julian of Norwich: All shall be well. And all manner of things shall be well. Do we dare to believe it?
Wishing you well this day.
-Jay Sidebotham