Tag: Psalms

Flesh and bones, spirit and life (Ezek 37, Psalm 130, Rom 8, John 11, Lent 5A)

On the Fifth Sunday in Lent, the scripture passages offered by the lectionary revolve around a central theme: life in contrast to death. It’s not every Sunday that all four passages line up to provide a clear and obvious focus on a single theme. For more than half of the Sundays in the year, the Hebrew Scripture, Epistle, and Gospel each follow their own course, and any overlap of theme is accidental, not planned. For Sundays in Advent, Christmas, and Lent, as well as key days like Pentecost, Trinity, and the Reign of Christ, the thematic overlap is intentional. This week we have just such a Sunday!

Death is at the heart of the story of Lazarus that forms the Gospel passage for Sunday (John 11:1–45). Initially, Jesus is told “he whom you love is ill” (John 11:3), but when he arrives in Bethany, Martha accosts him with “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (11:21)—an accusation repeated by her sister Mary (11:31); and then comes a graphic description provided by Martha as they draw near to the tomb: “already there is a stench because he has been dead four days” (11:39).

The emergence of Lazarus from the tomb marks a climactic moment, for the family in Bethany and many of their neighbours (11:44–45), but also for the chief priests and Pharisees, who together determine to put Jesus to death (11:53). The seventh sign recounted in this Gospel is the most significant miracle of Jesus, but also the deed that determines the fate of Jesus. Soon after this event in Bethany, he says, “I have come to this hour” (12:27), the hour when “I am lifted up from the earth, [when I] will draw all people to myself” (12:32), the hour when the Father will “glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you” (17:1). The death of Jesus is to be, paradoxically, the complete fulfilment of his mission (19:30)—the pathway into life eternal (3:16; 10:28; 17:3).

This climactic movement, of death moving to life in Bethany, resonates with the words of the prophet Ezekiel and also the writings of the apostle Paul that are offered for this coming Sunday. Ezekiel confronts the signs of death: “The Lord set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry” (Ezek 37:1–2). Paul considers the state of humanity: “to set the mind on the flesh is death … the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Rom 8:6–8).

So, death is in view in these three readings. It is no wonder that the psalm we are offered alongside them speaks a cry of deep despair: “out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord” (Ps 130:1). The depths of the earth were the place where sinful people went (Ps 63:9; Isa 14:15), following the lead of the Egyptians who pursued the Israelites and “went down into the depths like a stone” (Exod 5:4–5; Neh 9:11; Isa 63:11–13). There, in the depths, God’s anger burned (Deut 32:22).

However, those banished to the depths were able to be brought back from the depths by God’s decree (Ps 68:22; 71:20; 86:13), so the cry of the psalmist from the depths is followed by the plea, “Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!” (Ps 103:2). As the prophet Micah affirms, God’s steadfast love will rescue those who “lick dust like a snake,

like the crawling things of the earth”, and will indeed “cast all our sins into the depths of the sea” (Mic 7:17, 19). So the psalmist affirms, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope” (Ps 103:5).

Just as Lazarus emerges from the tomb where his dead body was laid, so Ezekiel foresees a wondrous revival amongst the dead bones of the people of Israel: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord” (Ezek 37:11). The vision he sees emac s that dramatically. Likewise, Paul glimpses that same hope: “if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Rom 8:11).

Both prophet and apostle hold to the hope enacted in the Gospel and articulated by the psalmist: “Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities” (Ps 103:7–8).

*****

Ezekiel was both a prophet and a priest (Ezek 1:3). He had been exiled to Babylon during the siege of Jerusalem by King Nebuchadnezzar II of Babylon (599 BCE; see 2 Kings 24:10–17). His prophetic activity was thus undertaken entirely in exile. He addresses both those in exile with him in Babylon, and also those left behind in Judah. His prophecies continue through the period when the people in Judah were conquered and taken to join Ezekiel in exile (587 BCE; see 2 Ki 25:1–21), and then for some time after that.

A dramatic vision opens the book, in which “the glory of God” appears in the form of a fiery, flaming chariot (1:4–28). Priestly attention to detail marks the account of this vision, whilst contains multiple allusions to other scriptural stories. The bright cloud and flashing fire evokes the scene on Mount Sinai, when God gave Moses the Law (Exod 19:16–19); the “burning coals of fire” (1:13) remind us of the burning coals in the scene of the call of Isaiah (Isa 6:6); and “the bow in the cloud on a rainy day” evokes the sign of the covenant made with Noah (Gen 9:12–17). In seeing this vision, Ezekiel has had a life-transforming experience!

Ezekiel is impelled to play his role as a prophet by “the hand of the Lord” (1:3; 3:22; 8:1; etc); indeed, he says, “the spirit lifted me up” (3:12). That same spirit continues to lift him up with regularity (8:3; 11:1, 24; 37:1; 43:5) to show him vision after vision. More than this, Ezekiel declares that “the spirit entered me” (3:24), a process which he promises will be experienced by Israel as a whole (36:26–28)—for the Lord says he will “pour out my spirit upon the house of Israel” (39:29).

This emphasis on the renewing spirit of God is seen, most dramatically, by Ezekiel when he is taken by the spirit into “the middle of a valley … full of bones” (37:1) and sees a vision that he conveys in what must be his most famous oracle. What Ezekiel sees in this valley of dry bones is the work of God, as God puts sinews and flesh and skin on the bones, and breathes into the bodies so created, so that they live (37:5–6, 8, 10).

The vision indicates what God will do: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil” (37:14). The end of the exile, it seems, is in sight. This passage is often interpreted in a Christian context as a pointer both to the resurrection of Jesus, and also to the general resurrection; indeed, its appearance on the Fifth Sunday in Lent means that it complements, and indeed illuminates, the dramatic story of Jesus bringing Lazarus back to life, as he approaches the tomb, and cries in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” (John 11:38–44).

For Ezekiel, however, this vision is not a far-into-the-future prediction (foretelling), but a word of hope to the people in their immediate situation (forthtelling). Indeed, the very next section of this chapter reports a proclamation of Ezekiel which is quite directly forthtelling. The two sticks that he takes (37:16) stand for Judah and Israel; as he joins the sticks, so he points to the return of these peoples from their exile, their return “to their own land”, and a cleansing which will mean “they shall be my people, and I will be their God” (37:21–23, 27).

That final phrase is a common covenantal affirmation made by God (Lev 26:12; Ruth 1:16; Jer 7:23; 11:4; 24:7; 30:22; 31:1, 33; 32:38; Ezek 11:20; 14:11; 36:28; Zech 2:11; and Hos 1:10–11, overturning Hos 1:9). The reunited people shall have one king (37:24) and they will observe “an everlasting covenant” (37:26).

So the dramatic story that the prophet Ezekiel reports from his vision set in the middle of a valley full of dry bones is intended to speak directly into the life of the covenant people of God, the people of Israel, offering them hope despite their current circumstances.

*****

Paul also was commissioned for his task through a vision—reported in graphic terms by Luke, who makes the moment into a grand call-and-commissioning scene (Acts 9:3–8; 22:6–11; 26:12–18), but mentioned only briefly, in general terms, in passing by Paul himself (1 Cor 9:1; and perhaps Gal 1:1, 12). Of course, Luke was not present for this event, so he shaped in along the lines of classic call-and-commissioning narratives that existed in earlier Jewish writings. (I have explored this in detail in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible, 2003).

That vision turned Paul from persecutor of the followers of Jesus to an apostle fervently declaring “the good news of Jesus Christ” as far as possible, “from Jerusalem and as far around as Illyricum” (Rom 15:19). (Illyricum was a Roman province that covered the coastal area of the Balkans, northwest of Macedonia stretching towards Italy.) Paul delivers this good news in person to many communities, but he sets it out at length in his letter to believers in Rome, which he had not yet visited.

Paul is embued with the same hope that the psalmist and the prophet demonstrate. He rejoices with the Thessalonians that they share with him in “hope in our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess 1:3), tells the Galatians that “through the Spirit, by faith, we eagerly waits for the hope of righteousness” (Gal 5:5), and reminds the Corinthians that “faith, hope and love abide” (1 Cor 13:13). In a subsequent letter to believers in Corinth, he asserts that “he who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to secure us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again” (2 Cor 1:10)

Paul reports to the Romans that “we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God” (Rom 4:2) and that it is “in hope that we were saved” (Rom 8:24). He affirms that it is “by steadfastness and the encouragement of the scriptures, we might have hope” (Rom 15:4), notes that scripture promises that “the root of Jesses shall come … in him the Gentiles shall hope” (Rom 15:12), and so characterises God as “the God of hope” (Rom 15:13). He shares in that strong hope which is sung by the psalmist and spoken by the prophet, and which is acted out in the Gospel reading for this Sunday.

Depths and heights, sea and dry land (Psalm 95; Lent 3A)

As we move through the season of Lent, in my own congregation we are meeting for daily prayers where the focus is on being “in the wilderness”. It’s a theme that is inspired by the Gospel from the First Sunday in Lent, when Jesus is led “into the wilderness” where he was tested. It is a story about becoming prepared for what lies ahead; Jesus would enter, after that wilderness time of engagement with The Tester, into the public ministry which is recorded in each of the Synoptic Gospels, when “he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons” (Mark 1:39).

As we journey through that (symbolic) wilderness during Lent, the scripture passages offered by the lectionary invite attention to key moments in the story of Israel (the Hebrew Scripture passages) and key encounters that Jesus had (the narratives from John’s Gospel), as well as a series of theological discussions from Paul (in his letter to the Romans).

And then we have the Psalms. This coming Sunday, Psalm 95 invites further reflection on God’s ways during this wilderness journey. It is a celebratory psalm, beginning “let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise … let us come into his presence with thanksgiving “ (Ps 95:1–2). The song continues in that same vein for a number of verses, celebrating God as “a great God” (v.3), creator of “the depths of the earth, the heights of the mountains … the sea … and the dry land” (vv.4–5), honouring him worshipfully as “our maker” (v.6) and inferring that God is the shepherd of all his people (v.7).

The celebration of God’s creative capacities in the the middle section of this psalm draws on themes which are regularly sounded by the Psalmist. God is celebrated as the “maker of heaven and earth” (Ps 134:3), the one who created “all mortals” (Ps 89:47), indeed all creatures (Ps 104:24–30), even “the north and the south” (Ps 89:12), “sun and moon, shining stars and highest heavens” (Ps 148:3–5). Second Isaiah evokes God as “creator of the ends of the earth” (Is 40:28) whilst Third Isaiah looks to God’s new creation, “new heavens and a new earth” (Isa 65:17–18).

In Proverbs, Wisdom marks off each of the elements noted in the psalm (depths and heights, sea and dry land) when she declares that “the Lord created me at the beginning of his work … when there were no depths, I was brought forth … before the mountains had been shaped … when he assigned to the sea its limit … when he marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master worker” (Prov 8:22–30).

The depths of the earth were the place where sinful people went (Ps 63:9; Isa 14:15), following the lead of the Egyptians who pursued the Israelites and “went down into the depths like a stone” (Exod 5:4–5; Neh 9:11; Isa 63:11–13). There, in the depths, God’s anger burned (Deut 32:22). However, those banished to the depths were able to be brought back from the depths by God’s decree (Ps 68:22; 71:20; 86:13), so in one psalm we hear the cry, “out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice” (Ps 130:1), and the prophet Micah affirms that God “will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea” (Mic 7:19).

The heights are where the Lord God set the people once they had made their home in Israel, “atop the heights of the land … [where] he fed [them] with the produce of the land” (Deut 32:13; similarly, Isa 49:9; 58:14; Ezek 34:14). It is a place of security (2 Sam 22:34; Ps 18:33); indeed, “on the heights” is where Wisdom is to be found (Prov 8:2) and the Temple was built on the (relative) heights of Mount Zion, and so it is from “the holy height” that God looks down over the people (Ps 102:19).

However, for the prophet Jeremiah, “the bare heights” is the location for God’s judgement (Jer 12:12; 14:6). It is evident that, “on the heights”, the sinful people have “polluted the land” (Jer 3:2) and “perverted their way” (Jer 3:21). Accordingly, “a hot wind from me [comes] out of the bare heights in the desert … I speak in judgement against them” (Jer 4:11), for “on the bare heights the Lord has rejected and forsaken the generation that provoked his wrath” (Jer 7:29).

Just as the depths and the heights were parts of God’s good creation, so too the sea was integral to God’s creative works: “yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living things both small and great” (Ps 104:25). Yet the sea was a threatening place for the people of Israel, accustomed to life on the land, planting grapevines and herding sheep in “the land of milk and honey”. The sea of reeds was the place of destruction for Egypt (Ps 114:1–8), although it was also the location of salvation for Israel, as is celebrated in David’s song of praise (2 Sam 22:1–4, repeated at Ps 18:6, 12–19).

The dangers of the sea which the Israelites escaped are detailed in Psalm 124, recalling the threat of floods sweeping them away, torrents rising over them, raging waters submerging them. That psalm concludes, with a sigh of relief, “our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Ps 124:8). In the sea lurks the great sea monster, Leviathan (Job 3:8; Ps 104:26) of whom Job muses, “who can confront it and be safe” (Job 41:11). Only the Lord is able to subdue Leviathan (Ps 74:14; Isa 27:1).

For sailors, the sea could be a place of great danger (Ps 107:23–31)—the story of Jonah attests to this (Jon 1:4–17), as does the final trip of Paul as he is taken as a prisoner to Rome (Acts 27:14–20). Yet the power of the roaring sea, as majestic as it is, pales into insignificance beside the majesty of the Lord on high (Ps 93:3–4).

Just as the sea was a place of danger, so the dry land was a place of safety—as evidenced by the way the story of crossing the sea of reeds is told (Exod 14:21; Neh 9:11; Ps 66:6) and when Jonah is vomited up onto dry land by the fish (Jon 2:10). However, when the Psalmist finds themselves in “a dry and weary land where there is no water”, a prayer is offered to God because “my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you” (Ps 63:1). When linked with “the wilderness”, “the dry land” receives blessing from God, who will “make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water” (Isa 41:18) and “pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground” (Isa 44:3).

This opening section of the psalm might be seen to be a reworking of the creation narrative, crafted by the priests in the Exile, which is placed at the beginning of the Torah to signal its fundamental importance (Gen 1:1–2:4A). The deep” is initially covered by darkness, when “the earth was a formless void” (v.2), before God creates light. A dome is placed “in the midst of the waters” in order to separate the waters (v.6), and then God decrees, “let the waters under the dome be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear” (v.9). These were the fundamental building blocks for the intricate and complex creation which then evolved.

*****

After this celebration of creation—depths and heights, sea and dry land—there follows in Psalm 95 an exhortation directly to the people to “listen to his voice” (v.7b). The exhortation to listen is repeated often in Hebrew Scripture, in narratives (Exod 23:22; 1 Sam 15:1; 1 Ki 11:38), in works of wisdom (Job 37:2; Ps 81:11, 13; Prov 1:33; 8:32), and by various prophets (Isa 1:10; Jer 11:4; Ezek 40:4; Hos 4:1; 5:1; Joel 1:2; Amos 3:1; 4:1; 5:1; 7:16; 8:4; Mic 1:2; 3:9; 6:1; Mal 2:1–3).

The fundamental instruction to Israel throughout the long speech attributed to Moses in Deuteronomy is, “hear, O Israel” (Deut 5:1; 6:3; 9:1; 13:11; 20:3; 27:9); even the heavens and the earth are commanded to “give ear … hear the words of my mouth” (Deut 32:1). The Preacher advises, “to draw near to listen [to God] is better than sacrifice offered by fools” (Eccles 5:1), and The Sage instructs, “listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom for the future” (Prov 19:20).

Isaiah’s instruction to “listen to the teaching of our God” (Isa 1:10) is reiterated in both Second Isaiah (Isa 42:23; 46:3, 12; 48:12; 49:1; 51;1–7) and Third Isaiah (Isa 55:2–3; 66:6). Jeremiah is instructed to report God’s message to the people, “listen to my voice and do all that I command you” (Jer 11:4) recurs in later oracles (Jer 17:24–27; 26:1–6; 28:7).

The advice to Ezekiel, that “the house of Israel will not listen to you, for they are not willing to listen to me” (Ezek 3:7) leads to God’s severe warning, “I will act in wrath; my eye will not spare, nor will I have pity; and though they cry in my hearing with a loud voice, I will not listen to them” (Ezek 8:18; see also 13:19; 20:8; 20:39). Eventually, however, Ezekiel is commanded, “look closely and listen attentively … declare all that you see to the house of Israel” (Ezek 40:4)—which is precisely what he then does (Ezek 44:5–45:25; 46:1–18).

The instruction to listen is, of course, picked up by Jesus in his teachings (Mark 4:3, 9, 23; 7:14; 8:18; Matt 13:3, 16–17; 15:10; Luke 6:27; 8:8, 18, 21; 11:28; 13:32; 18:6; John 5:24; 8:47; 10:3, 16, 27; 14:24). At the Transfiguration, the disciples are instructed to “listen to him” (Mark 9:7; Matt 17:5; Luke 9:35).

The psalm as a whole ends on a sombre note, with a warning of God’s testing of Israel (vv.8–10) and a declaration that God’s punishment will stand (v.11). The note of exuberant celebration that marked the opening verses has dimmed. Yet the overall mood of the psalm is one of joyful appreciation of God’s creative works. It is a good reminder for us, to celebrate God’s creation, as we move though our (metaphorical) wilderness journey during Lent.

Choose life: loving, obeying, holding fast (Deuteronomy 30; Psalm 119; Epiphany 6A)

The season of Epiphany is marked by an emphasis on light, a symbol of the manifestation or revelation of God in Jesus. (Epiphany is from the Greek word for “shine forth”—thus, a manifestation, a revelation.)

The note of revelation through light was sounded in the announcement of an unnamed post-exilic prophet found in the Hebrew Scripture reading for The Feast of the Epiphany: “arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you … nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isa 60:1, 3).

It was continued in the words of another, earlier, unnamed prophet in the Hebrew Scripture reading for Epiphany 1, the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus, in words sung to The Servant: “I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness” (Is 42:6–7).

Then, for Epiphany 2, we heard a repetition and extension of that imagery of light, in the second song sung to The Servant: “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isa 49:6). There was also a repeated indication of the worship that kings will bring: “Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you” (Isa 49:7).

The motif of illumination continued on Epiphany 3, as the prophet Isaiah, some centuries earlier, foresaw the significance of the birth of a child in the royal line: “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness on them light has shined” (Isa 9:2).

For Epiphany 4, the focus shifted to the way that people were to respond to the revelation of God’s ways, made known in the words of the prophets, through the testimony of The Servant, and even through the birth of a child. So, Micah proclaimed, “the Lord … has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Mic 6:8).

Then followed, on Epiphany 5, the advice of the anonymous post-exilic prophet whose words are collected in the last section of the book of Isaiah. Ne advises the people to enact the fast that the Lord chooses: “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke … to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin” (Isa 58:6–7).

Immediately following this, the prophet returns to the Epiphany theme of illumination: “your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard” (Isa 58:8). These ways of acting are, as I have explored, central to the covenant between God and Israel; the prophet itemises a series of practical behaviours that would signal that Israelite society was founded on the justice and righteousness that God required through the covenant. That is how they were to respond to the illumination of the light, given to them time and time again. See

https://johntsquires.com/2023/02/01/this-is-the-fast-that-i-choose-isaiah-58-epiphany-5a/

So each week, an excerpt from a prophetic text has undergirded the key feature of the ongoing season of Epiphany. Of course, the prophets weren’t speaking about our Christian season of Epiphany; but the compilers of the lectionary have chosen these passages, quite deliberately, to provide an ongoing focus each Sunday throughout this season.

*****

This coming Sunday, by contrast, there is no mention of light, or dark. However, the passage chosen from Hebrew Scripture (Deut 30:15–20) does continue the motif of justice, as articulated by prophets before the Exile (Micah 6) and on return to the land, after exile (Isaiah 58). We are offered an excerpt from the final speech of Moses, the great prophet, as it was attributed to him by a writer many centuries later from the time he is alleged to have lived—the unknown author of the book of Deuteronomy.

When Josiah was King of Judah (from 640 to 609 BCE), he instituted a series of reforms (probably during the late 620’s). What drove the reforms was the discovery, in the midst of the restoration of the Temple, of an ancient book of the Law, at the bottom of a money chest that had recently been raided to pay for renovations to the Temple (2 Ki 22:8–10).

This book set out the requirements of the Law; when it was discovered, Josiah realises that the nation has not been faithful to the covenant, and that God will punish them. He consults the prophet Huldah, who advised King Josiah to undertake the thoroughgoing reforms of religion in Judah that characterised his reign. “Josiah took away all the abominations from all the territory that belonged to the people of Israel, and made all who were in Israel worship the Lord their God. All his days they did not turn away from following the Lord the God of their ancestors” (2 Chron 24:33).

It is thought by some scholars that the book found in the money chest was Deuternonomy, or perhaps an earlier version of the book we now have. (The name, Deuteronomy, comes from two Greek words, meaning “second law”—perhaps a reference to the fact that in this book so many of the laws stated in Exodus and Leviticus are restated a second time.) There is no doubt that this book sounds a single, insistent theme, requiring that the people of Israel listen to the words that God gave Moses to speak to them, that they listen and obey, putting the instructions and commands into practice in every element of their daily lives.

Indeed, a key statement in this book is recited to this day by faithful Jews, reminding them of their obligation to respond to God’s gift: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deut 6:4–5, known for the first word of these verses, the Shema).

So this passage continues: “Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” (Deut 6:6–9; see also 11:18–21).

This central commandment is to be remembered and enacted at every time of the day, in every situation and place. Throughout this book, the people are regularly reminded to “keep” the commandments (4:2, 40; 5:10, 12, 15, 29; 6:2, 6, 17, 24; 7:9; 8:2, 6, 11; 10:13; 11:1, 8; 13:4; 16:10, 13, 15; 26:17–18; 27:1, 9; 28:9). They are told to “obey the voice of the Lord God” (8:20; 13:4, 18), the Lord who speaks through the commandments (11:27–28; 12:28; 15:5; 26:17; 27:10; 28:1–2, 13, 15; 30:2, 8, 10, 16). Loving the Lord God is at the heart of these commandments (6:5; 7:9; 10:12; 11:1, 13, 22; 13:3; 19:9; 30:6, 16, 20). In this way, the people “hold fast” to God (10:20; 11:22; 13:4; 30:20).

*****

In the passage offered for this coming Sunday, this requirement of diligent listening and faithful obedience is sounded for the final time in this long book; the people are instructed to “choose life, so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him” (Deut 30:19–20).

And so, the benefits of such listening, obeying, and holding fast are set forth: “if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess” (Deut 30:16).

We have already discussed how Torah (the Law) was widely appreciated and deeply valued amongst the people of Israel, such that psalms and prophetic voices could exclaim, “happy are those who fear the Lord, who greatly delight in his commandments” (Ps 112:1). See

https://johntsquires.com/2023/01/31/to-delight-in-the-commandments-psalm-112-epiphany-5a/

It is worth noting that, in Hebrew, the same word (Shema) is translated into English by two key terms—most often, as “hear” (as in Deut 6:4), but on occasions, as “obey” (as in Deut 11:27–28, and other places in this book). The sense of obey, then, is to hear, register, and put into practice what has been heard—thus, to obey. Hearing is not simply an act of the ear; it is an act of the whole being, moving from what the ear registers to what the mouth says, the hands do, the heart shows. That is the full sense of the instructions that are given in this speech by Moses at the end of his life (according to the narrative setting of the whole book; see Deut 31:14; 32:48–52; 34:1–8).

In the verse prior to this section, the people are reminded of how they are to relate to God: “the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe” (30:14). Hearing God, obeying the commandments that God has given, and living God’s way, are all immediately at hand—indeed, they are within the people. This is much like Jeremiah’s vision of the new covenant, when “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts” (Jer 31:33), or Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones, when God promises, “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live” (Ezek 37:14).

Indeed, this positive appreciation of the Law is picked up well in the Psalm offered for this Sunday, namely, the first stanza (verses 1–8) of the longest psalm in the Bible, Psalm 119. This psalm offers lavish and continued praise for Torah—identified variously as “the law of the Lord” (v.1), “his decrees” (v.2), “his ways” (v.3), “your precepts” (v.4), “your statutes” (v.5), “your commandments” (v.6), “your righteous ordinances” (v.7), and once again “your statutes” (v.8). These terms recur in each stanza of this lengthy, extended psalm of 178 verses, along with the familiar “your word” (vv.9, 11, 16).

The blessings of hearing and obeying this law are also set forth in this opening stanza of Psalm 119: those who hear and obey are blameless (v.1), blessed (vv.1,2), they do no wrong (v.3), keep the precepts diligently (v.4), have steadfast ways (v.5), will not be opus to shame (v.6), praise God with an upright heart (v.7) and are not forsaken by God (v.8). Similarly appreciative phrases recur through all 22 stanzas of this psalm.

“Choose life, that you may live; loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him” (Deut 30:19–20). “Happy are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord” (Ps 119:1). Or, as Jesus declares, “whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 5:19).

See

https://johntsquires.com/2020/02/06/an-excess-of-righteous-justice-matt-5/

Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved (Psalm 80; Advent 4)

“Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.” So pleads the psalmist, in a psalm that is offered by the lectionary this coming Sunday, Advent 4. The verses chosen (Psalm 80:1–7, 17–19) contain a plea to God, to act in defence of Israel at a time of deep distress. Perhaps this psalm is chosen for this particular Sunday, a week before Christmas, because it refers to “the one at your right hand, the one whom you made strong for yourself” (80:17).

The section of the psalm that is omitted by the lectionary recounts the story of Israel, using the familiar image of a vine (80:8–10) which grew and spread (80:11), but now is ravaged by passers-by (80:12–13), before lamenting the destruction that has taken place amongst the people (80:14–16). The setting seems clearly to reflect the experience of exile in Babylon, after the devastation of the city of Jerusalem by the Babylonian army.

In this psalm, the writer prays for God to act. However, this is not just a single prayer; rather, the writer pleads with God to restore Israel to her former glory. “Restore us” is the persistent plea (80:3, 7, 19), along with calls to “give ear” (80:1), “stir up your might” (80:2), “turn again” (80:14), “come to save us” (80:2), and “give us life” (80:18).

This recurring refrain of petitions is accompanied by the request for God to “let your face shine” (80:3, 7, 19); the prayers accumulate in intensity, reflected in the wording that builds throughout the psalm: “restore us, O God” (80:3); “restore us, O God of hosts” (80:7); “turn again, O God of hosts” (80:14); “restore us, O LORD God of hosts” (80:19).

The request for God to let God’s face shine reflects the ancient priestly blessing recorded in Num 6:24–26: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

In this three-line prayer, the second line includes the phrase, “the LORD make his face to shine upon you”. The simple parallelism in this blessing indicates that for God to “make his face shine” (v.25) is equivalent to blessing (v.24) and lifting up his countenance (v.26). The second verb in each phrase is, likewise, in parallel: the psalmist asks God to keep (v.24), be gracious (v.25), and grant peace (v.26). These words offer a prayer seeking God’s gracious presence for the people of Israel.

The face of God was a matter of some significance in the ancestral story of Jacob, who becomes Israel. Estranged for decades from his twin, Esau, when they meet up again, Jacob has just spent the night wrestling with a man (Gen 32:22–32). Jacob’s hip is struck, and he walks with a limp; yet he describes the place where this happened as Peniel, “the face of God”, and characterises the encounter as a time when “I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved” (32:30). To see God face-to-face was a rare and intense experience. Jacob was, indeed, blessed.

When Esau then appears and informs Jacob that he now accepts that the birthright which Jacob stole years ago from Esau should rightly remain with him (33:9), Jacob marvels at the favour which Esau shows him, saying, “truly to see your face is like seeing the face of God—since you have received me with such favour” (33:10). God’s face, evident in Esau, is a face that bestows grace and favour.

So the Psalmist sings, “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?” (Ps 42:2). And after the incident involving the idolatry of the golden bull (Exod 32:1–35), Moses yearns to know that he has found favour with God: “if I have found favour in your sight”, he prays, “show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favour in your sight” (33:13). God promises that “my presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (33:14), but Moses presses his case: “show me your glory, I pray” (33:18).

God holds fast, saying that “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, ‘The LORD’; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy” (33:19), but then stops short of full self-revelation, declaring, “you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live” (33:20). Moses is granted a view of God’s “back”, but is not able to see the face of God (33:23).

(The Hebrew word here translated as “back” refers to the “hindquarters”—a polite way of saying that Moses saw only God’s exposed buttocks, rather than his smiling face. Almost every translation chooses the polite wording, “my back”. The King James Version comes closest to an honest translation with “my back parts”.)

Yet the request for God’s face to shine upon people is pressed in a number of other psalms. “There are many”, says the psalmist, “who say, ‘O that we might see some good! Let the light of your face shine on us, O LORD!’” (Ps 4:6). In Psalm 31, the psalmist sings, “Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love” (Ps 31:16). Again in Psalm 67, the psalmist echoes more,explicitly the Aaronic Blessing, praying, “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us—Selah—that your way may be known upon earth, your saving power among all nations” (Ps 67:1–3).

In the seventeenth section of the longest of all psalms, Psalm 119, a prayer asking for God to help the psalmist keep the Law culminates with the request for God’s face to shine: “Turn to me and be gracious to me, as is your custom toward those who love your name. Keep my steps steady according to your promise, and never let iniquity have dominion over me. Redeem me from human oppression, that I may keep your precepts. Make your face shine upon your servant, and teach me your statutes.” (Ps 119:132–135).

Another psalm indicates that human faces can shine: “you [God] cause the grass to grow for the cattle, and plants for people to use, to bring forth food from the earth, and wine to gladden the human heart, oil to make the face shine, and bread to strengthen the human heart” (Ps 104:14–15). The Preacher, Qohelet, links a shining human face with Sophia, Wisdom. In response to the question, “who is like the wise man? and who knows the interpretation of a thing?”, the Preacher proposes: “Wisdom makes one’s face shine, and the hardness of one’s countenance is changed” (Eccles 8:1). A shining face is a sign of being imbued with Wisdom!

This idea is then picked up in apocalyptic writings, such as 2 Esdras, writing about “the sixth order, when it is shown them how their face is to shine like the sun, and how they are to be made like the light of the stars, being incorruptible from then on” (2 Esd 7:97). In a later chapter, as Ezra encounters a weeping woman, he reports, “While I was talking to her, her face suddenly began to shine exceedingly; her countenance flashed like lightning, so that I was too frightened to approach her, and my heart was terrified” (2 Esd 10:25).

The trajectory flows on into the New Testament, as Paul in writes to the believers in Corinth, applying the language of a shining face to Jesus: “it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor 4:6).

The culmination of this trajectory is reached in the accounts of the Transfiguration of Jesus, on a mountain, when Jesus was transfigured (Mark 9:2), “the appearance of his face changed” (Luke 9:29), and “his face shone like the sun” (Matt 17:2). And so, the brightly shining face of Jesus, God’s chosen one, points to the enduring steadfast love and covenant faithfulness of God, which is what is remembered and celebrated with such clarity each Christmas.

And so it is that these verses from Psalm 80 stand on the fourth Sunday in Advent as a pointer to the coming Christmas celebrations. (And the divine glow, of course, is there to see in so many of the classic Christmas images that adorn Christmas cards and shop windows!)

Joyfully hoping and waiting (Isa 35, Ps 146, and Matt 11; Advent 3C)

The readings for this coming Sunday really do go hand-in-hand. It is not always this way; for more than half the year, the First Reading, Epistle, and Gospel each go their own way, following their own independent sequential pathway of readings with little or no explicit acknowledgement of each other. Sometimes, hopefully, the Psalm will resonate with one or more of these readings. Not so, however, this Sunday—as, indeed, on each Sunday in Advent (and in Lent)—for the four readings for today were deliberately yoked together by the creators of the lectionary for this third Sunday in Advent.

The lines of connection are clear. “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing”, declares the prophet (Isa 35:1–2). “The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient”, advises the letter-writer (James 5:7–8). And Jesus hears the question of the disciples sent by John, “are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Matt 11:1–2). Waiting, with patience, for the long-desired coming.

The revolutionary impact of what is being waited for is also evident. “The eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy”, the prophet sings exultantly (Isa 35:5–6). The Psalmist sounds, too, this song of sheer joy, praising “the God of Jacob … who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry … [who] sets the prisoners free, [who] opens the eyes of the blind, [who] lifts up those who are bowed down [and] loves the righteous, [who] watches over the strangers [and] upholds the orphan and the widow” (Ps 146:5, 7–9).

And Jesus himself informs the messengers sent by John that, yes, indeed, in what he is doing “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them” (Matt 11:5). In the alternate psalm offered by the lectionary, the young, pregnant, trusting Mary sings out loud that “the Mighty One … has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts [and] has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:49, 51–53).

Indeed, this recitation of how God acts for the good in the lives of God’s people forms the foundational claim and then a recurring leitmotif in the Lukan account of the activities of Jesus throughout Galilee (Luke 4:18–19; 6:20–26; 7:22; 9:1–2; 10:8–9; 13:30; 14:11, 13–14, 21–24; 18:14, 22–25). An exact parallel to the declaration made by Jesus at Luke 7:22 forms the central claim in the passage from Matthew (11:2–11) that the lectionary offers us this coming Sunday. This upside-down kingdom, to be brought about by the righteous-justice of God (Matt 6:33), is at the heart of what we wait for, what we hope for, what we work towards.

So the prophetic word this Sunday looks to a time when “waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes” (Isa 35:6–7). This is possible because it is the Lord “who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them; who keeps faith forever” (Ps 146:6).

The prophet envisages a highway, to be called “the Holy Way”, on which God’s people shall travel and not go astray, for all the familiar elements of danger will be absent. Safety is assured, for “no lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there” (Isa 35:8–9). Joy and gladness will replace sorrow and sighing (Isa 35:10). An attitude of confident hope is called for as such a time is awaited, for “as an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord” (James 5:10).

There is a parallel to this eruption of joy during Lent, when in traditional practice the fourth Sunday in Lent was known as Laetere Sunday—from another Latin word meaning “rejoice”, which forms the opening of the introit for that day in the Latin Mass: Laetare Jerusalem et conventum facite omnes qui diligitis eam (“Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her, all you that delight in her”, Isa 66:10).

These readings are intentionally clustered together for this coming Sunday, since it is, by tradition, known as Gaudate Sunday—from the Latin word meaning “rejoice”, the opening word of the introit to the Latin Mass for this day: Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, gaudete (“rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice”, Phil 4:4). It is also known as Rose Sunday, and a rose colour can replace the purple of Advent for this day.

The note of rejoicing is clear in the Psalm, as “those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God” celebrate that “the Lord will reign forever” (Ps 146:5, 10). There is rejoicing envisaged by the prophet, as “the ransomed of the Lord return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads” (Isa 35:10).

It is rejoicing which permeates every phrase of the young Mary’s insightful song, as her “soul magnifies the Lord” and her “spirit rejoices in God [her] Saviour” (Luke 1:46–47). And there was joy, surely, amongst the disciples of Jesus, as they heard the powerful words that he speaks in response to the request of John’s disciples, “are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Matt 11:3). They had been privileged to be there, alongside him, as these events transpired.

In Advent, our waiting with patient hope for the coming of Jesus transforms into proleptic joy—that is, joy which is expressed in advance of the actual event, in firm confidence that what is anticipated will, indeed, come to pass. In that sense, then, this coming Sunday is already a celebration-in-advance of the joy that overcame the wise ones (Matt 2:10) and, in another account, the shepherds (Luke 2:10, 20). It is a prefiguring of the joyous celebrations of the season Christmas. Enjoy!

Holy Week 5: ascending to Jerusalem (Psalms 131-134)

During Holy Week, it is Christian tradition to trace the pathway which Jesus took towards Jerusalem, sometimes following the stories recounted in Mark 11-14. In the city of Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested, crucified and died; in this city, for untold years, pilgrims had gathered in festive celebration, to remember, to retell the stories, to nurture their faith, to seek the Lord.

In Jewish tradition, the pilgrims travelling towards the city would join in songs—some of which are included within the book of Psalms in Hebrew Scripture and Christian Bibles. On their journey towards the city, according to this tradition, the pilgrims would sing Psalms 120—134. These are known as The Songs of Ascent, for they were sung as the pilgrims climbed higher towards the city, and then higher still towards the Temple at the highest point in the city.

This series of blogs use these ancient songs as the focus for reflecting, to envisage what that journey was like for Jesus and his followers, travelling as pilgrims to the city to celebrate Passover.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place.

So we stood at the foot of the holy place, the Temple first built by Solomon, then rededicated and rebuilt in the time of Herod; the Temple where the Lord God dwelt, where he dwelt in the Holy of Holies.

So we prayed, and sang, once more, with hope: I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me. O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time on and forevermore. (131)  
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 131

It was here, surely, that we would meet God; For, as we sang, The LORD has chosen Zion; he has desired it for his habitation: “This is my resting place forever; here I will reside, for I have desired it.” (132)   In the silence, reflect on Psalm 132

So we gathered around the table, friends and family, a joyful occasion, with the drinking of wine, some singing, some laughing; a meal shared together. And we celebrated in song: How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! (133)   In the silence, reflect on Psalm 133

And again, in song, we sought to bless each other: Come, bless the LORD, all you servants of the LORD, who stand by night in the house of the LORD! Lift up your hands to the holy place, and bless the LORD. May the LORD, maker of heaven and earth, bless you from Zion. (134)   In the silence, reflect on Psalm 134

So our songs of ascent had come to an end. We were in the holy city, near to the holy place, gathered once again for a joyful occasion, with the drinking of wine, some singing, some laughing; a meal shared together; but then, a kiss … a betrayal … a denial … a trial.

It had begun in celebration. For years, it was so; for decades, for centuries, on this very night, we would gather, joined as family, to remember, to rejoice, to recall the act of liberation.

It was on that night that everything came to a head.

See also https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/28/holy-week-1-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-120-121/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/29/holy-week-2-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-122-124/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/30/holy-week-3-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-125-127/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/31/holy-week-4-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-128-130/

Holy Week 4: ascending to Jerusalem (Psalms 128-130)

During Holy Week, it is Christian tradition to trace the pathway which Jesus took towards Jerusalem, sometimes following the stories recounted in Mark 11-14. In the city of Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested, crucified and died; in this city, for untold years, pilgrims had gathered in festive celebration, to remember, to retell the stories, to nurture their faith, to seek the Lord.

In Jewish tradition, the pilgrims travelling towards the city would join in songs—some of which are included within the book of Psalms in Hebrew Scripture and Christian Bibles. On their journey towards the city, according to this tradition, the pilgrims would sing Psalms 120—134. These are known as The Songs of Ascent, for they were sung as the pilgrims climbed higher towards the city, and then higher still towards the Temple at the highest point in the city.

This series of blogs use these ancient songs as the focus for reflecting, to envisage what that journey was like for Jesus and his followers, travelling as pilgrims to the city to celebrate Passover.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration, meeting up after months or years in our own villages. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival. We climbed, higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place.

So we stood at the foot of the holy place, the Temple first built by Solomon, then rededicated and rebuilt in the time of Herod; the Temple where the Lord God dwelt, where he dwelt in the Holy of Holies.

And we prayed for one another, and we sang: The LORD bless you from Zion.
May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem  all the days of your life. (128) 
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 128

Yet when we came inside, into the court of the temple, there was no peace, no joyful singing, no celebration, no preparation for worship.

Instead: a whip of cords, a shout of anger, words of vengeance, judgement, rejection; tables overturned and coins scattered. A whip of cords, a shout of anger, tables overturned and coins scattered.

It was not a moment of peaceful reflection; it was a moment of fearsome agitation. So we sang, in fear: The LORD is righteous; he has cut the cords of the wicked. (129)    In the silence, reflect on Psalm 129

and again, we sang, this time in hope: O Israel, hope in the LORD! for with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities. (130)   In the silence, reflect on Psalm 130

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city,

climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. We climbed, higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place. So we stepped out, full of faith, on our journey to Jerusalem.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

See https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/28/holy-week-1-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-120-121/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/29/holy-week-2-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-122-124/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/30/holy-week-3-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-125-127/

Holy Week 3: ascending to Jerusalem (Psalms 125-127)

During Holy Week, it is Christian tradition to trace the pathway which Jesus took towards Jerusalem, sometimes following the stories recounted in Mark 11-14. In the city of Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested, crucified and died; in this city, for untold years, pilgrims had gathered in festive celebration, to remember, to retell the stories, to nurture their faith, to seek the Lord.

In Jewish tradition, the pilgrims travelling towards the city would join in songs—some of which are included within the book of Psalms in Hebrew Scripture and Christian Bibles. On their journey towards the city, according to this tradition, the pilgrims would sing Psalms 120—134. These are known as The Songs of Ascent, for they were sung as the pilgrims climbed higher towards the city, and then higher still towards the Temple at the highest point in the city.

This series of blogs use these ancient songs as the focus for reflecting, to envisage what that journey was like for Jesus and his followers, travelling as pilgrims to the city to celebrate Passover.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration, meeting up after months or years in our own villages. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place.

So we sang, together: Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,

which cannot be moved, but abides forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds his people, from this time on and forevermore. (125)  
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 125

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves. (126)   In the silence, reflect on Psalm 126

And then, we were at the foot of the holy place, the Temple first built by Solomon, then rededicated and rebuilt in the time of Herod; the Temple where the Lord God dwelt, where he dwelt in the Holy of Holies.

So we sang: Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labour in vain. Unless the LORD guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain. (127)  
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 127

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place. So we stepped out, full of faith, on our journey to Jerusalem.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

See also https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/28/holy-week-1-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-120-121/ and https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/29/holy-week-2-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-122-124/

Holy Week 2: ascending to Jerusalem (Psalms 122-124)

During Holy Week, it is Christian tradition to trace the pathway which Jesus took towards Jerusalem, sometimes following the stories recounted in Mark 11-14. In the city of Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested, crucified and died; in this city, for untold years, pilgrims had gathered in festive celebration, to remember, to retell the stories, to nurture their faith, to seek the Lord.

In Jewish tradition, the pilgrims travelling towards the city would join in songs—some of which are included within the book of Psalms in Hebrew Scripture and Christian Bibles. On their journey towards the city, according to this tradition, the pilgrims would sing Psalms 120—134. These are known as The Songs of Ascent, for they were sung as the pilgrims climbed higher towards the city, and then higher still towards the Temple at the highest point in the city.

This series of blogs use these ancient songs as the focus for reflecting, to envisage what that journey was like for Jesus and his followers, travelling as pilgrims to the city to celebrate Passover.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration, meeting up after months or years in our own villages. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place. We stepped inside the gates; our songs grew stronger.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD!”
Our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem.
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: May they prosper who love you. (122)
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 122

Inside the city, the city of shalom, Jeru-shalom, we seek this shalom, this peace, in our lives.

And our prayers intensify:
To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!
As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the LORD our God, until he has mercy upon us. (123)
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 123

And we continued in prayer:
Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth. (124)
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 124

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place. So we stepped out, full of faith, on our journey to Jerusalem.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

See also https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/28/holy-week-1-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-120-121/

Holy Week 1: ascending to Jerusalem (Psalms 120-121)

During Holy Week, it is Christian tradition to trace the pathway which Jesus took towards Jerusalem, sometimes following the stories recounted in Mark 11-14. In the city of Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested, crucified and died; in this city, for untold years, pilgrims had gathered in festive celebration, to remember, to retell the stories, to nurture their faith, to seek the Lord.

In Jewish tradition, the pilgrims travelling towards the city would join in songs—some of which are included within the book of Psalms in Hebrew Scripture and Christian Bibles. On their journey towards the city, according to this tradition, the pilgrims would sing Psalms 120—134. These are known as The Songs of Ascent, for they were sung as the pilgrims climbed higher towards the city, and then higher still towards the Temple at the highest point in the city.

This series of blogs use these ancient songs as the focus for reflecting, to envisage what that journey was like for Jesus and his followers, travelling as pilgrims to the city to celebrate Passover.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

A gathering of friends and family; a joyful occasion, with exuberant celebration, meeting up again after months or years in our own villages. We had walked with other pilgrims, heading towards the city, climbing the road, singing the psalms, looking forward to the festival.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place.

So we sang, together: In my distress I cry to the LORD,
that he may answer me: “Deliver me, O LORD”. (120)
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 120

That is how it started, far from the city. A prayer seeking deliverance; a cry reaching out for saving mercies. Then, as we turned the corner, we saw the hill, far away, yet drawing close.

I lift up my eyes to the hills — from where will my help come?
My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. (121)
In the silence, reflect on Psalm 121

And we held out our hands as we sent forth our prayers. The Lord, our God, would be our help. The Lord would save us. Yes, he would save us.

Each step closer to the city was a step that brought us closer, closer to the heart of our faith. Each step along the way was a step that brought us higher, nearer to the holy mount. Each stage along the way was matched with a psalm of ascent, singing with joy as we drew near to the holy place. So we stepped out, full of faith, on our journey to Jerusalem.

It was during that week that everything came to a head.

See also https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/29/holy-week-2-ascending-to-jerusalem-psalms-122-124/