Psalm 85:8-13

8 I will listen to what the Lord God is saying, for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him.
9 Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land.
10 Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
11 Truth shall spring up from the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
12 The Lord will indeed grant prosperity, and our land will yield its increase.
13 Righteousness shall go before him, and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

Grace and Truth

I’ve been traveling the past two weeks in pilgrimage in the United Kingdom, having spent a few days on the island of Iona, moving on to Northumbria. I was not able (or smart enough) to send this reflection from the wilds of Iona, so you’re getting it late, with the psalm from Sunday, August 9. I’ve learned all kinds of stuff on this journey, suspecting that I must have slept in for a few seminary classes in church history.

I learned about King Oswald, whose feast day was observed last week. He grew up in the seventh century, and went into exile in Ireland and Iona. He wanted to bring the gospel to North Umbria. So he sent the first missionary, Corman, whose ministry bombed. Corman soon returned to Iona, complaining that the Northumbrian people were stubborn and impossible to teach. What a relief to know that modern day clergy would never make such a complaint! For their part, those Northumbrians complained that Corman was a harsh teacher, maybe proclaiming truth but doing so in an off-putting way. What a relief to know that modern day parishioners never regard their clergy in such a way!

Oswald did not give up. He sent another monk named Aidan to take on the mission. Aidan met the people with patience and grace, walking with them, turning down a horse to ride on because it put him above the people, talking to them and most important listening to them. He stayed to become bishop of Lindisfarne, carrying out a ministry regarded as fruitful. The graciousness of his ministry was strong enough to be recounted many centuries later.

The key to Aidan’s success: he not only communicated the truth of the gospel, which the people had not heard, truth they needed to hear. He also did so with grace and humility. He refused the gift of a horse, preferring to walk among the people. I was intrigued by this glimpse into church life in the seventh century. It shows that little has changed over the years. We still these days find plenty of religious people who will bring their truth with harsh rigidity and very little listening. Religious people convinced that they have the truth can run with that confidence, and in the process run over people. As Dave Barry asked: Why is it that religious people want to tell you what they believe but never want to hear what you believe? Ever experienced that? We hunger for those who can bring truth with grace, recognizing that the two need to go together.

The psalm you may have heard in church last week, reprinted above, speaks of mercy and truth meeting together, righteousness and peace kissing each other (Psalm 85:10). It brings to mind the prologue from John’s gospel, in which the author speaks of the Word made flesh. That prologue says that Jesus arrived, full of grace and truth. It’s so clear to me that we need both.

Truth without grace was Corman’s downfall. Have you ever had someone present what they thought was the truth in such a way that you felt judged or diminished? Have you ever presented your truth that way? The lack of grace in such presentation can make the most important truth inaccessible.

Grace without truth may be what Bonhoeffer had in mind when he spoke of cheap grace. Grace and mercy and compassion find their greatest impact in the context of a realistic assessment of the human condition, that fact that we fall short, that fact that we need help, the fact that help comes from a source higher than ourselves.

Going back to the beginning of John’s gospel, Jesus comes to us full of grace and truth.

The gospels are shot through with truths that challenge us. Jesus said that any who would follow him must deny themselves, take up the cross and follow. He says that if you want to find your life, you have to lose it. At the same time, he graciously invites all who labor and are heavy laden to come to him, to find that his yoke is easy and burden is light. He himself stretches arms of love on the hard wood of the cross to draw all humanity into his saving embrace. Expansive grace meets the hard truth of that hard wood.

So what do we do with all that? We look to Jesus, full of grace and truth. We are called to remember that when we share our truth, we are called to do so with grace and humility. When we speak of righteousness, we are called to do so with mercy. Might you have occasion this week to hold those two things together, to practice them both?

-Jay Sidebotham