John 18:33-37

John 18:33-37 (NRSV)

³³ Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” ³⁴ Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” ³⁵ Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” ³⁶ Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” ³⁷ Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 

As I Timothy 6:13 puts it, “Christ Jesus, who in his testimony before Pontius Pilate made the good confession.” John provides some reflections on the nature of that “good confession.”  Jesus does not offer a defense. Jesus did not owe Pilate any defense. He offered only a confession. By offering this confession, he also showed the limits of political power.^[1]

An inscription at Caesarea, placed on a stone and dated from the time of Jesus, identifies “Pontius Pilatus” as prefect of Judea. He held this office from 26 to 36 AD. He was the representative of Roman military, financial, and judicial authority in Judea. Most Judeans and Samaritans viewed Pilate unfavorably, as the most tangible representative of an occupying authority. However, if individuals respected Roman authority and paid taxes, the Romans could be quite neutral in a region. Of course, one could also be in trouble if one gained popularity among the peasants. In Judea, this meant claims to kingship. The time of Passover, a remembrance of deliverance from bondage in Egypt, was a dangerous time for the Romans. Pilate was present, discouraging the crowds from rioting in the streets. Generally, Pilate does not want to insert himself into a Jewish dispute. His concern is only whether someone threatens Romans power in the area. 

The account of the arrest of Jesus by the Romans has focused, until now, upon the innocence of Jesus of the charge against him. In this episode, the emphasis shifts to how Pilate will respond to the truth. Jesus shifts the focus of Pilate’s questions from the realm of provincial political power to the idea of truth.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus has said little about the kingdom of God, although he does have concern that people might make him king. Pilate wants to keep the conversation in terms of power. Which one of us has the power here? Are you a king? From where do you get your power? By forcefully claiming a kingdom "not from this world," Jesus defines the nature of his messianic identity. As proof, Jesus points out that he has no soldiers, no armies, and no lawyers that are fighting for his freedom. 

Jesus wants to speak in terms of truth. In fact, his “job description,” if you please, the reason God made him and the purpose God has for him, is to testify to truth. Those who listen to the truth hear his voice. Those who are part of his kingdom listen to his voice. Pilate, the representative of power, will use force. The truth, Jesus, who earlier in this gospel said, “I am the Way, I am truth and life,” uses “voice.” Pilate wants to know “what” truth is, when what he needs is to know “who” truth is.

³³ Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews (Βασιλεὺς τῶν Ἰουδαίων)?” The question is consistent with the other gospels as well. Pilate questions Jesus about kingship. John has said nothing about the rule of God, while the Synoptic Gospels have it as a major theme. However, as often in this gospel, John will take a theme of the Synoptic account and present it in a unique way. Thus, John expands on the concept of kingship here. If so, the kingship of Jesus is, to Pilate, political and is an act of treason against the power of Rome. We find a similar question with a quite different answer in Mark 15:2, “Pilate asked him, Are you the King of the Jews? He answered him, "You say so.” With John, the kingdom is in the world, but not of this world. Where did Pilate get this title for Jesus? In John 6:15, the people tried to make him a king. ³⁴ Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” The question challenges Pilate's personal knowledge of Jesus and the charges that Jewish authorities have leveled against him. By suggesting that Pilate only knows what "others tell you about me," Jesus reminds Pilate that he has no "evidence" against Jesus except the hearsay evidence of priests. The question by Jesus is not one of further education but of clarification. ³⁵ Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? This translation is the most literal of the first retort of Pilate. The reply of Pilate has contempt in it. Yet it establishes some early groundwork for his non-culpability in the whole matter. As a public official, a political leader, an important Roman citizen, Pilate has no reason to wallow in the concerns of the bothersome, insignificant Jewish inhabitants of this land. His declaration, however, also serves to free him from appearing to be in alliance with the Jewish authorities who brought Jesus to him. This Jewish problem, Jews accusing another Jew, is not something in which Pilate wants involvement. Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Pilate's response is contemptuous. ³⁶ Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from Roman authorities handing me over to the Jews. However, as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” By making such a forceful claim, Jesus defines the nature of his messianic identity. The Jews were waiting for a Davidic messiah another glorious warrior king who would free them from exile to a renewed position as the holy kingdom of Israel. This is not Jesus' identity or intent. As proof, Jesus points out that he has no soldiers, no armies, no lawyers fighting for his freedom, an observation that resonated with an official of the militarily based Roman Empire. He may refer to the incident in 18:10-11, where Peter pulled a sword when the Romans came to arrest Jesus, and Jesus told him to put it away. Matthew 26:53 even refers to the idea that Jesus called upon his Father to deliver him had the point been to have a kingdom on this earth. For John, the kingship of Jesus is a theological category that redefines the understanding of power of the world. We saw that understanding at work with the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, as the disciples spread palm branches along the way, proclaiming, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord – the king of Israel.” The point here, in contrast, is that any power Jesus comes from God, not military might or human institutions. Because of this, in the world, the kingdom is inconsiderable and from a human point of view and insignificant kingdom, a kingdom that is like leaven in the meal, or a treasure hidden in the field, or the gran of a mustard seed. His kingdom does not come in a way that says, “Look, here it is.” We need to see that even in John, the focus on the concealed or hidden nature of the king and kingdom. His disciples forsook him. In the end, he was alone. The servant of God entered the world in this way but pressed on toward revelation in the resurrection and ascension. In all of this, we have “the royal man.” ^[2] 37 Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” We need to consider this notion of king and kingdom. “Are you king of the Jews?” Pilate asks.  He asked with a certain condescending sneer.  Must have.  Big, powerful Pilate has the legions of Rome backing him up.  Powerful Pilate stands strong before this whipped, bleeding, bedraggled Jew, Jesus.  “Are you king?”  Some of the soldiers surely snickered.  How should I know who you are?  Pilate does not know, he cannot know.  He is a Roman, a Gentile.  He knows power, the power of the sword, Roman law.  All he knows is that kingdom, a kingdom propped up by the sword, the Roman occupation forces in Judea, violence, the clinched fist, the boot, the Roman Bar Association. Jesus arrived in Jerusalem at the beginning of Holy Week with crowds proclaiming him king. Undoubtedly, the crowds desired the restoration of the past glory of the kingdom of David. They envisioned throwing off the oppression of Rome. The concern of Pilate is here. He wants to know if Jesus is the type of king that threatens Rome. Political and military power is the concern of Pilate. Frankly, these are our concerns as well. We want to be the party in power. 

Of course, Jesus points out that he has no soldiers, no armies, no lawyers fighting for his freedom. By forcefully claiming a kingdom "not from this world," Jesus defines the nature of his messianic identity. Political and might Jesus' identity or intent.

Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this, I was born, and for this, I came into the world, to testify to the truth. The final words of Jesus to Pilate in this first interview once again demarcate the otherworldly character of his job description. This job description thwarts the attempt of Pilate to find evidence of treason against Jesus. Pilate wants to talk about the claim of Jesus to "kingship." Jesus instead talks about "truth." If John's gospel leans toward Hellenistic notions about "kingdoms," the words Jesus now speaks about "truth" are still overwhelmingly Hebraic in nature. In John 8:47, we read, “Whoever is from God hears the words of God. The reason you do not hear them is that you are not from God." We find a similar sentiment in I John 4:6, “We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and whoever is not from God does not listen to us. From this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.” "Truth" for Jesus is not merely something that one thinks about; one feels truth and acts it out in life.   In Hebraic culture, there is no such thing as a separate intellect. Hebrew thought inextricably binds mind, body and emotions together. The root meaning of the Hebrew emet, "truth," is "trustworthy" or "faithful." In Hebrew, "truth" is a term more descriptive of a person than any intellectual proposition.^[3] Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Here is the critical question. If we believe the truth belongs to us, then we are truth-shifters, those who shape the truth to make it fit their version of reality or to justify their ungodly or anti-social behavior. If we belong to the truth, if we have ordered our lives around the truth, then we listen to the voice of Jesus. When we make ourselves custodians of the truth, when we believe that the truth belongs to us, we listen to our own voice and the voices of those who think and act like us. We listen to the voice of our political party, our country, our religion, our faction. We listen to the voice of our fear and insecurity. We listen to the voice of our prejudice, our individual needs and desires, our experience.[4] We should notice the metaphor of “voice” that Jesus employs in his response to the charge of kingship. In explicating whom it is that belongs to the truth, Jesus declares that the members of his kingdom are precisely those people who listen to his voice. In the gospel of John, the voice of Jesus plays a key role in the conversion and ultimate salvation of those who follow Jesus. The metaphor of voice incorporates Jesus’ role both as eschatological prophet and as the word of God. In 5:25-29, during a debate about the authority of Jesus, he explains that “the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live” (v. 25). In 10:1-18, the parables of the sheepfold and the good shepherd, Jesus can lead the sheep because they hear and know his voice, but “they do not know the voice of strangers” (v. 5). The metaphor of voice guides the whole discourse (vv. 3, 4, 5, 16, 27). Finally, the first resurrection appearance in John’s gospel, the epiphany to Mary Magdalene at the tomb (20:11-18), centers on the voice of Jesus. Although Mary had already looked at Jesus, she did not recognize him until she heard his voice speaking her name (v. 16). Bringing these insights back to the dialogue with Pilate, we might encapsulate the confrontation in this way: Power (Pilate) uses force, but the truth (Jesus) uses a voice.

We honor truth when we say that we need to speak it, even if our voices shake. In Jesus, we have the self-revelation of God. Preachers and theologians do not have the task of providing easy answers to human questions, even one as important as truth. In fact, maybe the good teacher of Christianity will make us progressively aware of a mystery. God, in Jesus Christ, is the cause of our wonder.[5] We humbly submit the formation of our views and concepts to the revelation of truth we have in Jesus. Yes, that is simple and mysterious at the same time. 

John may well want us to put ourselves in the position of Pilate. We make judgments about our lives. We may believe we are doing the right thing. Yet, we may choose the expedient over the right. When we have an experience where the witness to Jesus comes before us, we have a decision to make. What will we do with Jesus? A bit of Pilate is in us. We think we are the judge. Yet, it may well be that we are on trial. 

The late Sam Shoemaker, an Episcopal priest who served parishes in New York and Pittsburgh, told the story of a man entering the Salon Carre, the room in the Louvre in Paris in which hangs some of the most exquisite masterpieces in the art world.  The man looks hurriedly at some of the works of Rembrandt and of Leonardo da Vinci, and then remarks to a guard, "What's all the fuss?  I don't think these paintings are all that wonderful." Whereupon the guard replies, "They are not on trial‑‑you are." 

The irony of this text is that Jesus was not on trial. Throughout the passion narrative, in fact, the disciples, the religious leaders, Pilate, and the crowds are all on trial before God. Of course, so are we as we engage this story.

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[1] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.2 [64.3], 176.

[2] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.2 [64.3], 167-68.

[3] (For more discussion on this difference, see Ian Pitt Watson, "God's Truth" The Princeton Seminary Bulletin, 7, 1986, 67 75.)

[4] Michael K. Marsh, “The truth does not belong to us.” Interrupting the Silence. Interruptingthesilence.com, November 22, 2015. Retrieved May 22, 2021.

[5] It is not the task of Christianity to provide easy answers to every question, but to make us progressively aware of a mystery. God is not so much the object of our knowledge as the cause of our wonder. --Kallistos Ware. Thanks to Rev. Linda C. Rahe, retired ELCA clergy, Holland, Ohio, for sharing this.

Revelation 1:4b-8

Revelation 1:4b-8 (NRSV)

⁴ Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, ⁵ and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.

To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, ⁶ and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

⁷ Look! He is coming with the clouds;

every eye will see him,

even those who pierced him;

and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail.

So it is to be. Amen.

⁸ “I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty. 

Revelation 1:4-8 is the address to the reader, or possibly a second introduction. This introduction shares a familiar, predictable, structure in having a greeting, a confession of the triune God, and a doxology.[1] The cities would seem to have large Jewish populations.  The Christology is richer here than in the rest of the book.  It sets the tone for the rest of the book by lifting up the identity and activity of Jesus Christ. It does this through a series of triplets, which provide a rhythm that underscores the meaning of the message and the conviction with which it conveys it.  In this book, Jesus Christ is the bringer of salvation, and as such places the book within the rest of the apostolic writings.[2]

            We can feel overwhelmed. Our age may well specialize in feeling overwhelmed. Technology has particularly brought tragedy, heartbreak, and despair as regular diet on the evening news. My life has been much better since I stopped receiving a steady diet of it. In such a time, the time of feeling overwhelmed, we might find it difficult to look at matters honestly. 

In Shakespeare's Hamlet, the young prince muses to himself, asking what he ought to do in response to the sin of his mother and his uncle who had killed his father and now have married one another. Young Hamlet wonders if it is better to take up the sword against "a seal of troubles," or whether it is better to pull the covers up over his head, to end his life, to sleep, perhaps even to dream, and end it all. A sea of troubles faces young Hamlet and they have become a veritable flood. He is overwhelmed. 

John, who should have been overwhelmed by the great sea of troubles that faced him and his beloved churches, responds by an overwhelming affirmation of the grace and triumph of God in Christ. In Jesus Christ, God decisively enters the world and is busy reclaiming a lost world. Revelation begins with poetry that evokes images of invasion, of cosmic battles, then of decisive victory by Almighty God. John on the island of Patmos responded to the overwhelming presence of evil with affirmations of the overwhelming victory of God in Jesus Christ. 

As I consider these opening verses of Revelation, reflect upon the basic truths to which John turns. 

⁴ John to the seven churches that are in Asia. The text affirms John the apostle as the writer.  The theology is John, but the language is not. 

Grace to you and peace, Paul consistently opening his letters in a similar way. The first triplet identifies the source of grace and peace. From him who is and who was and who is to come. The triplet is an elaboration of Exodus 3:14, where the Lord says, “I am who I am,” or “I will be who I will be.” Greek author Pausanius in the second century AD says of Zeus, “Zeus was, Zeus is, Zeus will be.” Although Revelation will deal with the ordeal the churches now encounter, the author understands the struggles in light of eternity. Further, grace and peace come from the seven spirits who are before his throne, the number of completion. Some think they symbolize the wholeness or fullness of the activity of the Spirit. Zechariah 4 is the Old Testament basis for the imagery. In Isaiah 11:2, there are also seven designations of the Spirit. Yet, it seems more likely that it refers to seven angels who are in the presence of God.[3] It becomes an instance of the New Testament referring to angels as spirits. In fact, the reference to them as “ministering spirits” in Hebrews 1:14 may be a good way to define what an angel is. Any discussion of angels must focus on service.[4] Further still, grace and peace come ⁵ from Jesus Christ (Christos, messiah). We then have the second triplet. Christ is the faithful witness (martyr). Jesus bears a certain type of testimony to the truth concerning the way the world truly is. He sacrificed his life for the sake of faithfulness to God and truth. John will be urging the churches to remain faithful to the point of death (2:10). Christ is the firstborn of the dead, stressing the transition of Jesus into a new eschatological life. The firstborn had pride of place in the ancient family, largely because of the high death rate of infants and toddlers. The firstborn received the largest portion of whatever inheritance the head of the household might have. Thus, firstborn of the dead gave to Christ the pride of place and position from among those who have died. In the new eschatological life that is the destiny of humanity, Jesus of Nazareth will head the procession into that new event. Therefore, Christ is the ruler of the kings of the earth. It is an audacious phrase, considering what happened to Jesus at the hands of the Romans. They brutalized him: stripped him, beat him, threw a kingly cloak around his shoulders and jammed a crown of thorns down upon his brow.  Then came the mockery. Soldiers derided him, bowing down before him and crying, "Hail, O King!" How can John refer to one such as him -- this weak and tortured man who, assailed by the world-consuming power of Rome, appears to be anything but kingly -- as "ruler of the kings of the earth"? Such titles have the intent of offering strength to those who undergo persecution. They encourage those who may have to experience martyrdom.

He now offers a doxology in the form of another triplet that delineates what Christ has done for and with the faithful. Usually, Paul would work a prayer of thanksgiving into this portion of his letter. Yet, he sometimes substituted a doxology. To him who loves us, the only reference to the love of Jesus in the book, and freed us from our sins by his blood, a reference to baptism and the Lord’s Supper, ⁶ and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. The images go back to the Old Testament, adopt some of the titles given to Israel, and apply them to the church. In particular, Exodus 19:5-6 is suggestive, “you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” Martin Luther used this passage to support the notion of the priesthood of all believers. Vatican II recognized the validity of the basic concept. Unfortunately, for the point Luther wanted to make, the writer clearly does not have in view the notion of a priesthood of all believers that has its own direct relation to God. The church shares the priestly role of Jesus, connecting it to the redemptive purpose of God for the church. Note that the author stresses that election in Christ, and Christ receiving equal honor with the Father. The language is similar to that of I Peter 2:9, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” Such language in Revelation means that things are not as they appear. They are already kings and priests; yet, the reality is not yet public.[5]

He now offers a fourth set of triplets that depict those who fear the impending judgment that accompanies the return of Christ. The Christ who will come is already present. The author combines Daniel 7:13 and Zechariah 12:10. ⁷ Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account, all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen. Pantokrator” is an intentional contrast with the Roman Emperor. The verse may suggest knowledge of the “I am” saying of John. ⁸ “I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God. Thus, the exalted Lord shares the life of the Father that embraces all ages.[6] Considering the notion of “first and last,” God is not restricted to being first or last. God stands above the alternative of beginning and end and is Lord of both. One of the challenges of a theology of creation is to express the way in which the eternal God embraces the beginning and end of the creaturely world by not only bringing forth time as the form of existence for creation but by having the divine life enter the created world in way that preserves it and rules it.[7] Further, the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty (Παντοκράτωρ). It concludes with the Almighty, from the beginning to end, from the past into the future, God is the one who has the power. Though the times are uncertain, John is sounding a classic apocalyptic message: This God controls the past, present and future and can be a source of comfort. God is eternal. Unchanging. The same yesterday, today and tomorrow. 

Hegel stated that God is the “rose in the cross of the present.” The tragic sense of every human life comes through in such a statement. The harsh reality of human life is the presence of so much evil and suffering in human life and history. If we focus upon these realities, we ought to wonder what is the meaning, purpose, and direction of it all. As Moses saw in his vision of God in the burning bush, “I am who I am” becomes a place to stand in the midst of the uncertain realities of human life. Yet, as John also points out, God is one who is, one who was, and one who is to come. I cannot imagine human life without some way of talking about hope for the future. 

When the church directs its praise and thanksgiving to God in music, it expresses hope for the future. Such singing does not ignore the realities of uncertainty and suffering that surround much of human life. However, music does direct our gaze from us and toward God, who is the source of life and hope. Human life is far from easy. Some persons bear a larger and heavier cross in life than others do. Yet, suffering, pain, uncertainty, and evil, touch every human life to some degree. If we are to bear it with some sense of joy, meaning, and purpose, it will be because we have found a reason to find a rose in the midst of the ambiguities of life. 

Mark Twain said that, if heaven is one endless choir rehearsal, he did not think he would bother to try for it. Yet, the Book of Revelation is saying that God created you and me for praise! God has made us, from the first beating of our hearts, to join in creation’s great song of praise to the One in whom we live, move, and have our being. One day, on that day, all those things that keep us from singing – the pain, the heartache, the shame, the oppression, all that which attempts to keep people quiet – God will defeat. The lamb, the one whose birth caused the angels of heaven to break forth in song, will enable the entire world to sing. God will heal the rift between the singer and the song, saints on earth and saints in heaven will lift up their voices in unison. Our restless hearts shall know why they have been restless, because God has created each of us for no better purpose than to praise God with all that we are, to give God, in our work and our worship, honor, power, glory, and blessing forever, singing, “To him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”

 

We offer praise and thanksgiving, in part because of what is, but even more because of what God promises for the future. Let us be a people who sing, praise, and offer thanksgiving. 

I have wrestled much with the notion of time. Theology and philosophy reflect upon the topic in a way that often confuses me. However, since this passage opens the door for such reflection, I invite you to ponder the notion of time with me. In particular, I want to reflect upon the relationship between God and time. 

If one can translate Exodus 3:13-14 as “I shall be that I shall be” or “I shall exist as I shall exist,” it will suggest a particular emphasis on the relation of present and future. This passage may interpret what Exodus says. It declares that now, after the fulfilled time, recollection adds to expectation as a category not yet belonging to the Old Testament or at least not yet customary.[8] The verse shows that divine eternity means readiness for time. We have good reason to give clear emphasis to this truth. The Christian message of creation, reconciliation, and redemption as the revelation of human existence as consummated by God, which also means the revelation of the meaning of creation by God, is the word of truth and not a myth of the pious self-consciousness. The eternity of God has temporality. The content of the message depends on the fact that God was, is, and is to be, our existence stands under the sign of a divine past, present, and future. Without the complete temporality of God, the content of the Christian message has no shape. Everything depends on whether the temporality of God is the truth that has its basis in God. Barth develops the notions of God as pre-temporal, supra-temporal, and post-temporal to describe this dimension of God.[9]

When the passage speaks of the being of Jesus in time, it implies much more than that time has a beginning, duration, and end. The use of “alpha and omega” does not speak of timelessness. The risen Lord ascribes to himself a being in time, just as the letters alpha and omega in the Greek alphabet are part of the alphabet. Further, the introduction stresses that the life of Christ embraces a present, past, and future. Here is a strictly temporal being, though it differs from all other temporal being. Again, note the connection to Exodus 3:14, “I am that I am.” The passage speaks of a being in time, but the reference is to the divine coming. It means something like, “I am all this simultaneously. I, the same, am; I was as the same; and I will come again as the same.” 

First, the today of Jesus does not cancel his yesterday. The presence of Jesus impels toward His future. He who comes again in glory is identical with the one proclaimed by the history of yesterday and the one present today. The thorough-going eschatology for which the interim between now and one day necessarily seems to be a time of emptiness, futility, and lack only an “unspiritual” community could tolerate such a view. The fact that Jesus will be includes the fact that He is. The fact that He is does not exclude that He is not yet. When this verse says “I am he that is,” the present in which there is real recollection of the man Jesus and the particular and preliminary revelation accomplished in Christ, and real expectation of this man and the final and general revelation of God with Him, this present “between the times” is His own time, the time of the man Jesus. 

Second, Jesus not only is. He has also been. The passage directs our gaze backward from the present. What do we see? Of course, we see the pre-crucifixion time of Jesus, but we also “see” the Easter Jesus and the apostolic presentation of him. His “yesterday” includes the prophetic time and history of the people of Israel. As we find in this passage, we can sum it up as “I am – which was.” 

This same Jesus existed in space and time as an historical reality some 2,000 years ago. When he was born to a young woman living in Nazareth in Galilee, he was given a name: Jesus. So, Jesus was … a baby with a mom and dad. Jesus was … a toddler, a neighborhood kid, a precocious preteen sharing his views to the priests of the temple, a young man working in his father’s shop.

Sometimes, critics will refer to the fact that there is very little extra-canonical mention of the historical Jesus. Yes, Josephus, Pliny and Tacitus — writing 60 or more years after Jesus died —mention Jesus directly or tangentially. 

There is also the problem about the archaeological evidence — there is none. This is not surprising, says Lawrence Mykytiuk, an associate professor of library science at Purdue University and author of a 2015 Biblical Archaeology Review article on the extra-biblical evidence of Jesus. “There’s nothing conclusive, nor would I expect there to be,” he says. “Peasants don’t normally leave an archaeological trail.” Even Bart Ehrman, notorious atheist and professor of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina, sneers at the idea that Jesus was not a historical figure. “The reality is that we don’t have archaeological records for virtually anyone who lived in Jesus’s time and place,” he says. “The lack of evidence does not mean a person at the time didn’t exist. It means that she or he, like 99.99% of the rest of the world at the time, made no impact on the archaeological record.”

We can have assurance that Jesus was. He was a man with a mission whom followers would call the Messiah or the Christ, the fulfillment of the promises of the Lord to the House of David and therefore to Israel. 

Third, the being of Jesus in time is a being in the future, a coming being. From the standpoint of the apostles and their communities, we must also say, and with no less reality and truth, that He comes. Christians live in expectation, as well as in recollection and presence. The message of the church is eschatological as well as soteriological and pneumatological. The message involves proclamation of his future and the approaching end of time than of the past in which time has found its beginning and center, or of the present in which we move from that beginning and center to the end of time. If all that we had was past and present, we could look forward to a progressive immanent development of the new life opened up by the resurrection. Entire periods of history have had this view of the church. Such a notion is utopian fabrication. Yet, the New Testament does not contain evidence to support this view. Such a view can do without Jesus. The last time, the consummation, is the time of Jesus, the time of His being. The New Testament is the coming of the Lord in a definitive and general revelation. The Christian community gathers in this hope. He who comes is the same as He who was and who is. The consciousness of time is inherent in the phrase “I am … which is to come.” The future to which we look forward from the past of the man Jesus, is, like this present itself, and the past that lies behind it, His time, the time of the man Jesus.[10]

For us, the past is the time that we live and are in no longer. The future is the time that we do not yet have but perhaps will have. The real nature of our being in time is most obscure of all at the very point where it ought to be clear, namely, at the moment that we regard as our present. Here, where midway between the vanished past, and which we have largely forgotten or only dimly remember, and the unknown future that awaits us, or perhaps does not await us we think we can take our ease and enjoy in impregnable security our being and having, and our identity with ourselves, we find that we are insecure. This is our “being in time.”[11]

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[1] Ford, Anchor Bible Commentary.

[2] Grundmann (TDNT, Volume 9, 573)

[3] Murphy

[4] (Pannenberg 1998, 1991), Volume 2, p. 103.

[5] Murphy

[6] (Pannenberg 1998, 1991), Volume 1, 402.

[7] (Pannenberg 1998, 1991), Volume 2, 140.

[8] (Barth 2004, 1932-67) (Church Dogmatics I.2, 14.1)

[9] (Barth 2004, 1932-67)(Church Dogmatics, II.1 [31.3])

[10] Barth, Church Dogmatics (III.1, [47.1]

[11] Barth, Church Dogmatics (III.1, 47.2)

II Samel 23:1-7

II Samuel 23:1-7 (NRSV)

23 Now these are the last words of David:

The oracle of David, son of Jesse,

the oracle of the man whom God exalted,

the anointed of the God of Jacob,

the favorite of the Strong One of Israel: 

² The spirit of the Lord speaks through me,

his word is upon my tongue.

³ The God of Israel has spoken,

the Rock of Israel has said to me:

One who rules over people justly,

ruling in the fear of God,

⁴ is like the light of morning,

like the sun rising on a cloudless morning,

gleaming from the rain on the grassy land. 

⁵ Is not my house like this with God?

For he has made with me an everlasting covenant,

ordered in all things and secure.

Will he not cause to prosper

all my help and my desire?

⁶ But the godless are all like thorns that are thrown away;

for they cannot be picked up with the hand;

⁷ to touch them one uses an iron bar

or the shaft of a spear.

And they are entirely consumed in fire on the spot.

II Samuel 23:1-7 offer the last words of David.[1] The last words of a loved one are always highly valued. Many people want to die quickly. Such was not always the case. A good death, if we can have one, was one in which we could express ourselves to those who surround us at the time of death. We can find the literary genre of Last Words (or Testament or Blessing) elsewhere in the Old Testament: Genesis 27:27-29 (Isaac); 49:1-28 (Jacob); Deuteronomy 33 (Moses). David’s words are in the form of an oracle, the literary device most used by prophets and seers. Israel remembered David as a singer, but he also founded Jerusalem as the center of religious life. The oracle becomes an appropriate form for his final testament. They raise the issue of the type of message David felt compelled to leave as he confronted his mortality. This passage focuses on the general qualities of leadership and less on the personal legacy of David. The poem is of high quality.  See Balaam in Numbers 24 and Agur in Proverbs 30:15 for the same style.  David first describes himself. The oracle of David, son of Jesse, the oracle of the man whom God exalted. David's last words, then, are not to be his own. They are fundamentally God's words, the great king serving as a mouthpiece for the Divine. All of this suggests he is a sacral figure. David, like the king before him and the kings to follow is the anointed (Anointed one, mashiah), the word becoming a technical term for God's anticipated deliverer, his "Messiah"/"Christ," from David's line. Jesus Messiah/Christ was in the legal line of David (see Matthew 1). NT writers believe that he is the ultimate fulfillment of God's dynastic promises to David: See Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 1:30-33; 2:4; Romans 1:1-3; 2 Timothy 2:8; Revelation 5:5; 22:16. Also see multiple references in Matthew, Mark and Luke to Jesus as "Son of David," a messianic title. The king is the anointed of the God of Jacob, the favorite of the Strong One of Israel: ² The spirit (ruach) of the Lordspeaks through me, the word of the Lord is upon my tongue. David sees himself as a sacral figure. He sees himself as inspired, as anointed and as singer. He is bearer of the Spirit and mediator of the word.  The metaphor “word of the Lord” opens difficulties. What do such metaphors mean when rooted in human reasoning and creativity? [2] The word of the Lord that David has been instructed to proclaim on his deathbed is a description of divinely approved leadership. His final words reflect a theology we find in Deuteronomy and the history of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. He begins by stating that the just ruler, mindful not only of the divine presence but also of the divine law, brings prosperity to his land through his obedience. In verses 3b-5, we see some powerful images. David refers to the king in a two-fold relation -- humanity and God. ³ The God of Israel has spoken, the Rock (II Samuel 22:47, the Lord is his rock and the rock of salvation) of Israel has said to me.[3] The metaphor that God is like a rock is equally as metaphorical as when we refer to the Word of the Lord. Such metaphors arise out of human reasoning and its creativity, but what do they mean when referring to God? [4] David now gives voice to his belief that what had sustained him through the years of triumph and tragedy, sanctity, and sin, was God his Rock, who kept his promises to be with him. David could now lie down and rest, assured that God would continue to be with those who would come after him. One who rules over people justly [tsaddiq], ruling in the fear of God, ⁴ is like the light of morning, like the sun rising on a cloudless morning, the sun intricately connected with righteousness in the Near East, gleaming from the rain on the grassy land, an image that refers to the dealings of God with humanity. One may read verses 3b-4 conditionally: When (as some translations word it) or if a king rules over God's people justly/righteously, in the fear of God (which means reference for and obedience to God), then the king is like morning sunlight playing on fresh rain-generated grass. Deuteronomy 17:14-20 warns that kings must obey the torah and not multiply in wives, wealth, or military strength to enslave fellow Israelites. The "sun" had a close connection with righteousness in the Near East.  The key to this leadership is its pursuit of justice, upholding not only the laws of the land but also the cause of righteousness. This commitment to justice is possible even for leaders who might doubt their abilities always to ascertain the correct path. According to these last words of David, all that is necessary for leaders to trust their judgment is to make all their decisions "in the fear of God." Such a ruler will be easily identifiable. Just as light, warmth, and moisture enable crops to grow to maturity, a leader is to govern in such a way as to enable individuals to develop to their fullest potential. A harvest of capable, confident, and productive individuals - not blindly obedient, status quo-seeking subjects - populates the domain of a just and righteous ruler. ⁵ Is not my house (bayit) like this with God? He could refer to his dwelling, his palace, but hear to means the descendants of the line of David who would occupy the throne of Israel and soon of Judah alone. He has defined successful leadership. David's words next link this type of enabling power to God's promise of a Davidic dynasty. David confidently proclaims that his house now stands firmly before the Lord, committed to the vision of governance that he has just described. Nevertheless, David speaks for himself only, knowing that each generation must rededicate itself to justice and embody righteousness in its own life. For he has made with me an everlasting covenant (berit ‘olam), ordered (the same Hebrew word as Psalm 23:5's "You prepare a table before me") in all things and secure (the same Hebrew word as Psalm 121's and Numbers 6:24's "keep(s) you"). God will look after and protect his Davidic kings. As promised in II Samuel 7:16, the house, throne, and kingdom of David will stand forever. The Davidic covenant is still central, but David tempers it with his last words describing how a true leader for his country must think and act. The covenants of God with his king can be either conditional or unconditional. For conditional expressions see I Kings 2:4; 8:22-25. See also Psalm 132:10-18 (Zion is Jerusalem). For unconditional expressions see II Samuel 7:8-18, 25-29. See also I Kings 11:36; 15:4-5; II Kings 8:19; Isaiah 9:6-7. There may be an interplay between conditional and unconditional aspects of God's covenantal promises in this passage. However, the stronger, even more comforting, emphasis in these verses is on the unconditional aspect of God's covenant with David's descendants. Thus, the rainbow is a sign of an everlasting covenant (Genesis 9:16). The Lord has established a covenant forever with David and his offspring (Psalm 89:3-4, 29). The Lord will make an everlasting covenant with Judah, or anyone who affirms the one God (Isaiah 55:3). As sure as the covenant implied in the regularity of night and day and the regularity of the stars of heaven, so sure is the covenant with David and his offspring and the patriarchs and their children (Jeremiah 33:22-26). Will he not cause to prosper all my help and my desire? In the NET, "He [God] always delivers me, and brings all I desire to fruition." In Psalm 37:3-6, we read that if we delight in the Lord, the Lord will give us the desires of our hearts. Although this promise is one we could practice in a self-centered way, I like to think of it spiritually. What is the desire of your heart, what is the longing that seems to persist, regardless of your stage of life or circumstances? The Lord honors such genuine desire that arises out of the depths of who we are and whom we hope to be. A second theme of Deuteronomy is that the destiny of the godless is destruction. This view of divine reward and punishment continues to exercise profound influence in Western religion and is one of the Old Testament’s most enduring legacies. ⁶ Thus, the godless (the enemies of David, who are in sharp contrast to the example he set) are all like thorns that God will throw away; for one cannot pick them up with the hand; ⁷ to touch them one uses an iron bar or the shaft of a spear. God entirely consumes them in fire on the spot. The leadership of the ungodly is sterile, incapable of creating a new generation. Those cut off from God are like worthless thorns, too prickly even to gather by hand back into the community. Their destiny is utter destruction as if by an all-consuming fire. David could indeed testify that his enemies had in fact been "burnt."  These thorns are worthless except for burning. For similar passages about the destruction of the godless wicked, see Proverbs 11:7-8; Job 8:13-14 (Bildad's words); 20:4-7 (Zophar's words); Isaiah 9:18-19; 27:4; 33:12-14. Matthew 3:10-12 (and Luke 3:16-17) -- words of John the Baptizer; 10:28; 13:30; Luke 19:27; Hebrews 6:8. Also see the contrasts in parts of the book of Revelation. David asserts that the Lord will protect him and his descendants from those who would oppose the Davidic kings whom God had chosen to rule over God's people Israel.

Everyone has a story, and the more we can connect our story with the stories of others, the more we see ourselves in a different light. Capturing our stories and sharing them is not just a way of leaving a legacy, but of opening a door to a future filled with hope, not only for us but also for those who will relate to both our pain and our triumph. 

What is God doing with our story? We could reflect upon how grace has turned even our greatest failures into something good. Like David's memoir, ours must always end with a hope for a future made possible by God. While our past can make for a remarkable story, God's future for us will be an even better one that is full of hope, possibilities, and new life. That is the kind of memoir that the world needs to read, even if we only write it on our hearts. 

What does your story look like so far? What information would you include? If you were to write your memoirs ...- Would you include noteworthy events? What are the events in your life that have shaped your attitudes, informed your understanding of the world, and changed the direction of your life? - Would you make a list of significant people if you were writing your memoirs? Who are those people? Who has influenced you most for good or for ill? What was their contribution? How did it affect you? - Would you make a list of significant places that are a part of your life's geographical story? What are those places? Why are they important to you? - Would you tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth -- or will your story be self-serving, .... - Would you try to distill your major philosophy of life? What is that philosophy? Why does life have meaning for you? - Would you try to put in one paragraph of the advice you would pass on to others? What is that advice? - Would you try to answer the question, "If I had it to do over again, I'd ..."? - Would you try to understand where God has been in your story? Were there times when you thought God had gone AWOL and you never expected to hear from God again? Was there a time in your story when you went AWOL? You just completely opted out? Would you share how God and your relationship with God have the overriding orientation that explains who you are, everything about you?

---

[1] Some scholars view these last words as an exercise in public relations. Undoubtedly known in ancient Israel, no less than in contemporary religious circles, for his notorious affair with Bathsheba and the murder of her husband, Uriah (II Samuel 11), as well as the systematic extermination of the house of Saul, David could hardly be known as someone who ruled “in the fear of God” (v. 3). David’s judgment throughout his life was seriously compromised by his passionate loves, his driving ambition and his calculating nature. 

[2] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume I, 379.

[3] At least from v. 3b-7, it is of David.

[4] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume I, 379.

Psalm 132:1-12

Psalm 132:1-12 (NRSV)

A Song of Ascents.

¹ O Lord, remember in David’s favor

all the hardships he endured;

² how he swore to the Lord

and vowed to the Mighty One of Jacob,

³ “I will not enter my house

or get into my bed;

⁴ I will not give sleep to my eyes

or slumber to my eyelids,

⁵ until I find a place for the Lord,

a dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob.” 

⁶ We heard of it in Ephrathah;

we found it in the fields of Jaar.

⁷ “Let us go to his dwelling place;

let us worship at his footstool.” 

⁸ Rise up, O Lord, and go to your resting place,

you and the ark of your might.

⁹ Let your priests be clothed with righteousness,

and let your faithful shout for joy.

¹⁰ For your servant David’s sake

do not turn away the face of your anointed one. 

¹¹ The Lord swore to David a sure oath

from which he will not turn back:

“One of the sons of your body

I will set on your throne.

¹² If your sons keep my covenant

and my decrees that I shall teach them,

their sons also, forevermore,

shall sit on your throne.”

¹³ For the Lord has chosen Zion,
    he has desired it for his dwelling, saying,
¹⁴ “This is my resting place for ever and ever;
    here I will sit enthroned, for I have desired it.
¹⁵ I will bless her with abundant provisions;
    her poor I will satisfy with food.
¹⁶ I will clothe her priests with salvation,
    and her faithful people will ever sing for joy.

¹⁷ “Here I will make a horn^[b] grow for David
    and set up a lamp for my anointed one.
¹⁸ I will clothe his enemies with shame,
    but his head will be adorned with a radiant crown.”

Psalm 132 is a royal Psalm, but also has the characteristic of trust. The psalm is a midrashic celebration of David’s decision to build the temple (vv. 2-5) and of the Lord’s covenant with the Davidic dynasty (vv. 11-18). One could read the psalm as supporting the divine right of David and his descendants to serve continually as the anointed rulers of God in Zion. Two ideas dominate that of a promise to the house of David and the election of Zion as the dwelling for God. One should read this psalm with II Samuel 5-6 in mind, a passage that moves from the anointing of David as king, to the conquer of Jerusalem by the personal forces of David, and bringing the Ark to Jerusalem. In fact, a psalm suggests that the congregation remembered the historical event on a regular, even annual, basis. They may have had a procession carrying the Ark from the Temple in preparation for its return. It would be “discovered,” after which the king and priests would lead a procession ushering both king and art back into the city. The placing of the Ark in the Temple would reaffirm the choice by God of Zion as the divine dwelling and the divine right of David and his descendants to the throne. The psalm binds together the choice of Zion as the seat of life and blessing for the world with the choice of David and his descendants to rule from Mt. Zion. 

In terms of poetic form, much of the psalm involves poetic parallelism.[1]

The superscription of Psalm 132 describes it as a Song of Ascents (Psalms 120-134). This relates to the people or priests of Israel as they geographically and spiritually were going up to Jerusalem or to the temple. They usually celebrate the protection the Lord gives to Zion. It differs from others in the group in that it is significantly longer and stylistically unlike the others. It focusses is on various promises made by David and to David. It may recreate a ritual involving the Ark. 

The psalm opens with a supplication.  ¹ O Lord, remember (zakar) in David’s favor all the hardships (`unoto, the sense of being pressed down, i.e., humiliated.) he endured. Petitions for divine remembrance are common in the Old Testament, usually in the first person (e.g., Psalm 106:4; Jeremiah 15:15; Nehemiah 13:14), sometimes in the plural (e.g., Psalm 136:23; cf. Psalm 98:3; Isaiah 49:14-16). However, a petition for the Lord to remember implies deliverance or salvation (Genesis 8:1; 19:29; Numbers 10:9; cf. Luke 23:42). In the present context, the plea is not simply for David, but for his dynastic line as well, which, in the theology of the Old Testament, depends on divine protection for its survival. Thus, the king is not to acquire many horses (Deuteronomy 17:16). While some trust in chariots and horses, we trust in the Lord (Psalm 20:7). The Lord does not delight in the strength of horses or warriors, but in those who fear the Lord and hope in the unfailing love of the Lord (Psalm 147:10-11). Isaiah offers a woe upon those who go to Egypt for help and rely upon their horses, chariots, and horsemen, rather than look to the Lord for help (Isaiah 31:1). One might now expect a reference to some of hardships David endured. Instead, the writer shifts to an oath David made. The Lord is to remember ² how David swore to the Lord and vowed to the Mighty One ('avir, to soar or flutter) of Jacob, a name for the Lord that represents an effort to bring northern and southern traditions together. In the psalter, the epithet occurs only here and inv verse 5. The epithet used in place of the divine name occurs six times in the OT (Genesis 49:24; twice here; Isaiah 1:24, with the variant “Mighty One of Israel”; 49:26; and 60:16). Its appearance in the blessing of Jacob (Genesis 49:24), which scholars regard as one of the oldest fragments of the OT, makes this epithet one of the more ancient designations of Israel’s divine patron, and certainly pre-dating its use in Psalm 132 by several centuries. ³ “I will not enter my house or get into my bed;[2] ⁴ I will not give sleep to my eyes or slumber to my eyelids, ⁵ until I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob.” Here is the only reference to such an oath.[3] It seems to be an exaggerated poetic rendition of the determination of David in II Samuel 7:1-2 to build a house for the Lord. There was no doubt as to where David would build a temple, for politically and religiously, he recognized that Jerusalem needed to be the symbol of unity for the twelve tribes.[4] Oddly enough, the rest of the psalm shows no interest in this specific concern but moves quickly to an account of finding the ark and bringing it to Jerusalem. The psalm then shifts to finding the Ark. Verses 6-10 appear to be a song ancient Israel sang as part of a dramatic ceremony that re-enacted this discovery of the ark by David and the procession by which he brought it to the sanctuary (II Samuel 6:2-15). ⁶ We heard of it (feminine in Hebrew but its reference is uncertain, though it could refer to the Ark) in Ephrathah (another name for Bethlehem, the city of David, Ruth 4:11 and Micah 5:2). We found it in the fields of Jaar (Kiriath-jearim, about 15 miles from Jerusalem, the place where the ark had been kept for about 20 years, from Samuel's time until David became king in Jerusalem (I Samuel 7:1-2; II Chronicles 1:4). ⁷ “Let us go to the dwelling place (mishkanot, the word often translated "tabernacle" in priestly literature) of the Lord; let us worship at the footstool of the Lord.” Following this dramatic rediscovery, the song invites both the Lord and the ark to move. Pilgrims to Jerusalem may have understood their journey as being analogous to David's earlier journey to Jerusalem with the ark. They re-enacted David's story knowing that the presence and power of the Lord accompanied them, but at the same time, they would have realized that the Lord had already taken up the divine residence in Jerusalem. ⁸ Rise up, O Lord, and go to your resting place (the sanctuary), you and the ark of your might. The phrase reflects the function of the Ark as the divine throne-footstool and the view that the divine warrior, seated upon the Ark/cherubs, would lead the people in victorious battle. This cry is both an allusion to the past and a present petition - it is simultaneously an invitation to God to join David in the past and a request for God to protect or deliver Zion in the present.  The psalm now turns to the priests. ⁹ Let your priests be clothed with righteousness, and let your faithful (Hasidim) shout for joy. The writer then shifts to the divine promise. A priest or temple prophet recites God's promise concerning Jerusalem and David's dynasty. ¹⁰ For your servant David’s sake, do not turn away the face of your anointed one. With slight variation, verses 8-10 are in II Chronicles 6:41-42. The emphasis is upon the fulfillment of the role of David in establishing the worship life of Israel. One can understand the author of Chronicles looking upon this psalm as supporting topics of interest to him, especially the promises to his dynasty and of the devotion of David. Such emphases help us to understand why the reference to David as servant of the Lord and the anointed one were so meaningful.  ¹¹ The Lord swore to David a sure oath from which he will not turn back: “One of the sons of your body I will set on your throne, a poetic restatement of II Samuel 7:12, that the Lord will raise his offspring to succeed him, his own flesh and blood. ¹² If your sons keep my covenant and my decrees that I shall teach them, their sons also, forevermore, shall sit on your throne.”[5] The divine oath is a response to the oath by David, creating symmetry within the psalm. Obviously, the divine promise is conditional. Its seal is human faithfulness. These verses again echo II Samuel 7, in which the Lord offers an unconditional promise to build a "house" - a dynasty - for David (II Samuel 7:11-16). However, the conditional phrase in verse 12 sets an ominous tone for this psalm and would certainly clarify to later generations why the dynasty no longer existed: David's descendants disobeyed God and broke the conditions of the covenant. In both II Samuel 23 and Psalm 132, the key to divinely approved leadership is the pursuit of justice, the keeping of the covenant and decision-making in the fear of God. With such lofty standards, it comes as no surprise that the kings of Israel fell short, until the Lord fulfilled Davidic hope in a new kind of king, Jesus of Nazareth.

The psalm says David wanted to find a place for the Lord. Such a concern is prominent in the Old Testament, whether with tabernacle, temple, and re-building of the temple. For Christians, the dwelling of the Lord is in Christ, risen and present in lives and communities where even just two or three gather. Yet, let us pause for a moment. Is this concern for a place for the Lord still relevant to the people of the Lord today?

Is this not our primary occupation as followers of Jesus, to ensure that the Lord has a place? Just where have we put the Lord? Does the Lord have a place at home? Does the Lord have a place at work? Does the Lord have a place when we are driving on the interstate? Does the Lord have a place when we are shopping? Does the Lord have a place when we are preparing our monthly family budget?

Instead of space, we may need to think of time. We may need to consider how we make time, or make room, for the Lord in our lives. Some people have a ritual of a few moments of devotion. Such ritual is good, if it makes us aware of the many ways God may address us during the day. 

In the 14th century, philosopher, theologian and mystic, Meister Eckhart, who lived and worked in the Dominican Order, became the administrator of his order in Saxony. This meant he had to manage 50 houses of friars and nine convents of nuns. Eckhart did the job, but he was not content to leave his spiritual life behind in the chapel before heading off to the office each day. Referring to this in a sermon, he said that those who did that “are behaving no differently than if they took God, wrapped a coat around his head and shoved him under a bench.”

Deliberate, intentional, scheduled devotional time is a good thing. Yet, if we are available for the Lord, the point is the development of a temperament that lists for the Lord throughout the day. Some persons may well prefer a brief daily retreat to pray, read the Bible, and devotional material. We may prefer to go into our room, shut the door, and pray (Matthew 6:6). I suspect this form of being available for the Lord will not work for everyone. Brother Lawrence is well known as a 17^th century monk who developed a way to pay attention to the presence of the Lord while ding his duties in the kitchen. He could say that time of business do not differ with him from the time of prayer. Not everybody can do that. For most people, the hustle and bustle of the daily schedule is too distracting to promote the type of attention to the Lord to which Brother Lawrence refers. The point is that while we ponder the issues of life, we also need to ponder the things of God. 

Many people are busy. What do we truly get done?[6] The task of many bishops, pastors, teachers, and spiritual leaders among the people of the Lord is to help people concentrate on the real, but often hidden, even of the active presence of the Lord in their lives. At their best, congregations do not just keep people busy. In fact, part of leadership is how to keep people from becoming so busy that they can no longer hear the voice of the Lord, who often speaks out of the silence.[7]

Let us step back for a moment. God is the one who has taken time for us. God takes time for us in Christ, of course. God also takes time for us by interrupting us throughout the day, if we have developed a way of viewing our world through faith, hope, and love. In that sense, the Lord does not wait for us to become faithful in the practice of the means of grace or the spiritual disciplines. We are free to respond to the calling of the Lord upon our lives and concern ourselves with the matters of the day. Yet, the Lord can show up suddenly and unexpectedly, in such a way that it becomes an event in our time and a disruption of our lives.[8] In that sense, the Lord does not need us to set aside time for the Lord. The Lord is Spirit, as such as infinite, eternal, and unchangeable, in the words of the Westminster Shorter Catechism. 

Yet, we need the Lord to have a time in our time. We need sanctuaries, set-apart times, where we have felt the wind of the Spirit touch us in the past and have the anticipation that the Lord will do so again. Making such time in our lives is to take a contemplative stance. It helps us become steady, centered, poised, and rooted. Such a stance maintains a slight distance from the busy course of the day and the demands of the world. We allow time for withdrawal from business as usual. We are available for meditation and going into our private room (Matthew 6:6). Yet, in another way, such a time allows us to become closer to the world. We deepen our love and concern for it. We feel its pain and joy.[9]

A life all turbulence and noise may seem

To him that leads it wise and to be praised.

But wisdom is a pearl with most success

Sought in still waters.[10]

 

The psalm concludes (vv. 13-18) with a paean to Zion/Jerusalem, chosen by the divine as his permanent address. The choice of David and of Zion have a close connection in this psalm. ¹³ For the Lord has chosen Zion, he has desired it for his dwelling, saying, ¹⁴ “This is my resting place (for the Ark) for ever and ever; here I will sit enthroned, for I have desired it. Although Zion/Jerusalem is often celebrated in the Psalter as the divine residence (e.g., Psalm 2:6; 9:11, 14; 14:7; 20:2 and many others), David was never explicitly commanded to capture Jerusalem so that the divine could take up residence there. In fact, David lent his own name to the place (“Nevertheless, David took the stronghold of Zion, which is now the City of David,” II Samuel 5:7), rather than any form of the divine name, after he captured the city from its original Jebusite inhabitants. ¹⁵ I will bless her with abundant provisions; her poor I will satisfy with food. ¹⁶ I will clothe her priests with salvation, and her faithful (Hasidim, a generic term for righteous individuals) people will ever sing for joy. Rarely are the two principals of temple worship — the priests and the people of Jerusalem (here referred to as “its faithful,” v. 16) — mentioned together in the OT; their parallelism here is unique. ¹⁷ “Here I will make a horn (often expressing military victory) grow, for David and set up a lamp (II Samuel 21:17 refers to David as the lamp of Israel) for my anointed one. It may be that “horn” and “lamp” turn the psalm in a messianic direction. Rather than referring to David or his successors, it may refer to the coming “anointed one.” The image of the need for the horn to grow or for the lamp to be set up could suggest the restoration of something that has been destroyed. ¹⁸ I will clothe his enemies with shame the gravest punishment, reversing the image in verse 16 of clothing priests in victory), but his head will be adorned with a radiant crown of royalty.”

---

[1] The poetic parallelism that begins in verse 2 continues through the next five verses, is interrupted briefly by verse 8, and then continues throughout the rest of the psalm, alternating irregularly with non-parallelistic cola. Although the form is classical, the result here is less than sublime. In the best examples of poetic parallelism in the OT, the second item in a parallel pair elevates or extends the first item rather than simply repeating it or concretizing it (as in vv. 3, 4 and 5), so that, for example, a better poetic line in verse 3 would read something like “I will not enter my house or give rest to my heart” rather than “get into my bed.” The end of the line simply clunks. This lack of literary artistry (by the Bible’s own standard) suggests a late date for this psalm, when the classical forms were less than second-nature to the poets.

[2] Some would see a subtle reference to Bathsheba, but at this point, that seems a bit of a stretch to me.

[3] Some scholars argue that as a midrash, such an oath is a matter of the writer filling in the gaps in the historical record he had available. 

[4] Thus, we may see evidence here of the midrashic nature of the psalm.

[5] This verses appears to be a midrashic retelling of the unconditional covenant established with David as reported in II Samuel 7:13b-16.

[6] Of all ridiculous things the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy — to be a man who is brisk about his food and his work.

Therefore, whenever I see a fly settling, in the decisive moment, on the nose of such a person of affairs; or if he is spattered with mud from a carriage which drives past him in still greater haste; or the drawbridge opens up before him; or a tile falls down and knocks him dead, then I laugh heartily.

And who, indeed, could help laughing? What, I wonder, do these busy folks get done? Are they not to be classed with the woman who in her confusion about the house being on fire carried out the fire tongs? What things of greater account, do you suppose, will they rescue from life’s great conflagration?

—Sören Kierkegaard, “Either/Or,” in Writings of Kierkegaard (Lulu.com, 2016), 17.

[7] —Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Spiritual Life: Eight Essential Titles by Henri Nouwen (HarperOne, 2016), Kindle loc. 1457.

[8] Willimon, William H. “Too much practice: Second thoughts on a theological movement.” The Christian Century, March 9, 2010. christiancentury.org. Retrieved April 23, 2018.

[9] Richard Rohr, “The balancing point,” Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation for July 3, 2017. cac.org. Retrieved May 30, 2018.

[10] —William Cowper, cited by Sandra Felton in Living Organized: Proven Steps for a Clutter-Free and Beautiful Home (Revell, 2004), Kindle Highlight loc. 799-800.