Psalm 31:9-16

9 Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am in trouble; my eye is consumed with sorrow, and also my throat and my belly.

10 For my life is wasted with grief, and my years with sighing; my strength fails me because of affliction, and my bones are consumed.

11 I have become a reproach to all my enemies and even to my neighbors, a dismay to those of my acquaintance; when they see me in the street they avoid me.

12 I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind; I am as useless as a broken pot.

13 For I have heard the whispering of the crowd; fear is all around; they put their heads together against me; they plot to take my life.

14 But as for me, I have trusted in you, O Lord. I have said, "You are my God.

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.

Trouble

Jesus promised those who would follow his leading only three things: that they should be absurdly happy, entirely fearless, and always in trouble.

I heard the quote printed above early in my ministry. While I can’t identify the source, I’ve been taken with its vision of discipleship.

That the first disciples were always in trouble is pretty clear. Most of them ended their lives as martyrs, perhaps the greatest trouble a person can get into. The history of the church after Christ, beginning with St. Paul and through centuries that follow, indicate that trouble does indeed seem to be a kept promise for disciples. That dynamic is also true of people of faith prior to Jesus, as noted in the psalm heard in church yesterday, a psalm which begins: Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am in trouble.

Sometimes for people of faith, the trouble can accompany the choice to stand up for justice. In a Lenten group, we just read “The Book of Joy,” the story of the friendship between Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama. There’s much that is simply delightful in the book, made all the more poignant because both men got in a lot of trouble for standing for justice and peace. I stand in admiration of Congressman John Lewis, civil rights hero who faithfully and courageously chose a path that he knew would get him in trouble. He called it good trouble. Wondering if you’ve ever found yourself in that kind of trouble?

Sometimes trouble comes because we have made bad choices. That’s when the gift of the season of Lent comes in handy, as we spend time in self-examination and repentance. We admit the ways we have fallen short, and recognize that in so doing, we may have gotten ourselves in trouble. Do you recognize that kind of trouble?

Sometimes trouble comes to us with no discernible explanation. Unscripted events, unanticipated challenges, unmerited opposition come our way. Trouble finds its way into our lives in fulfillment of the premise that suffering is the promise life always keeps. It seems to me that that might be the plight of the author of Psalm 31, who deals with a life wasted with grief, years of sighing, the reproach of enemies. The psalmist is forgotten like a dead man, useless as a broken pot, as folks plot to take his life. In other words, he’s in trouble. Have you ever felt like you’re in that kind of trouble?

The question we face this morning: what do we do when find ourselves in times of trouble? Beyond Paul McCartney’s admonition to let it be, we practice trust, so that when we take a stand for justice and peace and meet with opposition, we are called to trust in the God who hears the cry of the oppressed. When we recognize that our actions have led us into predicament, we are called to trust in the wideness of God’s mercy, the promise of forgiveness and restoration. When we encounter trouble that defies explanation, we are called to trust in the God who holds the future, even if we don’t know what the future holds.

As we find ourselves at the beginning of Holy Week, we look to Jesus who set his face to Jerusalem. In some respects, he went looking for trouble. He found it, culminating in his cry from the cross: My God, why have you forsaken me. Yet even from that place, he modeled trust, saying to the one he called Father: Into your hands I commend my spirit. Even from that place, he practiced forgiveness, stretching out arms of love to draw us into his saving embrace. He teaches us that trouble can be an opportunity to deepen our relationship with the Holy One.

With that in mind, let me leave you with wisdom from Howard Thurman: The fact is inescapable that there are qualities that seem to be hidden deep within the very texture of the human spirit that can only be laid bare, that they may grow and be fruitful, by the most terrific flailings of a desperate adversity. There are not only such qualities as endurance, but also such qualities as tenderness, gentleness and boundless affection. It seems that these qualities emerge in their fullest glory only when there is nothing more that adversity can do.

Maybe that’s what can make trouble good trouble. 

-Jay Sidebotham