Psalms for Turbulent Times - Psalm 19: O Lord, my strength and redeemer

1    The heavens are telling the glory of God  
and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
2    One day pours out its song to another  
and one night unfolds knowledge to another.
3    They have neither speech nor language
and their voices are not heard,
4    Yet their sound has gone out into all lands  
and their words to the ends of the world.
5    In them has he set a tabernacle for the sun, 
that comes forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber
and rejoices as a champion to run his course.
6    It goes forth from the end of the heavens
and runs to the very end again,  
and there is nothing hidden from its heat.

7    The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul;  
the testimony of the Lord is sure, and gives wisdom to the simple.
8    The statutes of the Lord are right and rejoice the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is pure and gives light to the eyes.
9    The fear of the Lord is clean and endures for ever; 
the judgements of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
10  More to be desired are they than gold,
more than much fine gold, sweeter also than honey,
dripping from the honeycomb.
11  By them also is your servant taught 
and in keeping them there is great reward.

12  Who can tell how often they offend?  
O cleanse me from my secret faults!
13  Keep your servant also from presumptuous sins
lest they get dominion over me;  so shall I be undefiled,
and innocent of great offence.
14  Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be acceptable in your sight,  O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.

What is normal, now? Queueing for the shops, patiently. Waiting in a queue to a call centre, less patiently. Learning how to use Zoom to reach others. Catching the 5pm bulletin on the latest developments regarding numbers being treated in hospital, numbers who have died and ‘exit strategies’. Being disturbed by news about the vulnerable who need ongoing treatment the NHS cannot give – cancer patients having their treatment postponed for three months (what does this mean for their survival long-term?). The heart-breaking isolation of people who have cannot see loved ones. The worry about dying alone. The loss of jobs affecting so many young people. The discovery that a colleague has been ‘put on furlough’. The indiscriminate impact of the virus – a Prime Minister admitted to hospital, and then, so swiftly, suddenly, shockingly transferred into intensive care. A totemic situation - the most powerful person in the country struck down, humbled, brought low. A focus of prayer as well as fear.

What is normal, now? Feeling like we are all in exile. Holy Week is with us and I miss my friends and the faithful whose footsteps over the years have been alongside mine as we have walked the way of the cross together.

Dislocation. And tonight, no whispered waiting in the sanctuary. No shuffling of papers and guttering candlelight casting shadows on the prayed-in walls. No invitation to communion. No weight of bread in the palm or wine poured out. No sense of being blessed together. No words.

Yet we have the blue skies of early Spring, we have the Scriptures and we have the invitation to be revived by God as Creator, Word and Spirit.

Psalm 19 gives us a breather from dislocation – we will of course come back to that theme, which is so timely in Holy Week, as we continue to live in this sense of exile from normality. We recognise that the psalter gives us life because of its honesty and its unflinching courage to face the disorientation humans experience in their lives. We find this refreshing. For the psalter holds the passionate cries of generations of Jews grappling with exile, defeat, illness, loss, destruction, desolation and national despair.

But today, we are invited to lift our eyes to the wordless speech of God’s handiwork – the skies.

Our eyes are invited to dwell continuously on the written speech of the Torah (the law of the Jewish people).

And our eyes are invited to look inwards at the impact of  creation’s glory and scripture’s wisdom in our lives.

‘One day pours out its song to another,’ says the beautiful translation of the Anglican psalter. ‘And one night unfolds knowledge to another. They have neither speech or language and their voices are not heard, yet their sound has gone out into the lands and their words to the ends of the world.’ From my study window I see the big blue skies over Birmingham’s city skyline. The cranes are not moving anymore. But the clouds are, silently drifting: they speak of calm today. And the sun continues its journey through the dome of the heavens, reminding me of the ceaselessness of the loving mercy of God who holds life together – as was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. 

The psalm then re-orientates me to look at the gift of God’s law (or instruction) which is as reliable, as all-encompassing as the sun’s pathway through the sky (where ‘there is nothing hidden from its heat’ – vs6). God’s instructions for life revive the soul, give wisdom to the simple, give joy to the heart, give light to our eyes, endure for ever, are more desired than wealth and sweeter than honey. ‘By them is your servant taught,’ says the psalmist. ‘And in keeping them, there is great reward.’ (vs11)

How beautifully said, this recipe for life as God intends it.  But these are not just beautiful words. They invite a response. They are to be received today in this time of dislocation and exile from normality. They are to be interpreted afresh for Holy Week in the age of Covid19.

The final verses, 12-14, are a sign of an honest person who knows they cannot be sinless but who does seek to live as someone who is forgiven (blameless). Being cleansed from ‘presumptuous sins’ (NIV translates this as ‘wilful’) and ‘secret faults’ is the psalmist’s goal as they live under the wide mercy of God’s creation and law. Then, only then, in humble admission and gracious forgiveness, can the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts, be acceptable in the sight of our Lord redeemer and strength-giver.

What is normal, now? It is as it always has been. We need forgiveness. We need mercy. We need loving faithfulness. Now, as ever we did and ever we shall be. Amen.

Christ, the sun of righteousness,

rise in our hearts this day,

enfold us in the brightness of your love

and bear us at the last to heaven’s horizon;

for your love’s sake.

Common Worship: Daily Prayer, material from which is included here,
is copyright © The Archbishops' Council 2005 and published by Church House Publishing.