Think of it this way. When the first Christians gathered in people's homes there were no organs for music. No choirs. No committees (that brings a smile to people's faces). No ministers (smile from my face disappears). No buildings. They met, they read what we call the Old Testament or Hebrew Bible. They read those words in light of their encounters and stories about Jesus our Christ. They were pushing boundaries to new places in faith. Some of the earliest Christians still saw themselves as fully Jewish. Others had different ideas. Christianity in those early days was just as pluralistic and multi-faceted as it is today. They were asking questions like how should we follow Jesus? What does following Jesus look like or sound like or feel like? When might Jesus come again? Where should we gather (homes vs in Jewish temple)?
And the church today is still questioning. I often wonder why the strand of Christianity promoted in the media and as understood by those outside is so closed/confining, when the faith I follow is open armed with open hearts? I wonder what else can I do or the church to share this vision wider? How do we help created churches that are more interested in following Jesus, who people in this world still find compelling?
Questions are amazing...yet the other side of the coin is questions can be paralyzing too. Often questions like the above will not summit to easy, trite answers. They break through the binds of our cliches and just keep intently daring us to answer. Intellectually I know that.
When questions enter into our prayers, they often do so with a thud. We wonder when will the cancer go into remission? We wonder why we are struggling at work or in a relationship that once thrived? We ask go how long will we dwell in the valley of the shadow of darkness/death...to quote the poignant image from the 23rd psalm.
I don't know exactly how many of the Psalms have questions. I do know that well over one-third are what are called laments. A lament is often the soul struggling with a boundary and the questions the experience evokes. A lament is being honest with God that these nagging questions won't go away and won't be easily settled by us thinking our way out of it. A lament is pure emotion offered to God...not always a happy emotion at that.
In a couple of weeks, I am going to challenge the church to read through the book of Psalms. It is a challenge I am undertaking as well. Read two psalms a day. It will take no more than ten minutes. Yet, if we are serious about learning more about prayer, I think we need more than just twelve words. We need to read the prayer book, hymn book, and poetry book of our ancestors. People have come back to the Psalms time and time again. In the psalms we encounter words like, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And "How long, O God?" And "My tears have drenched my pillow." Poignant questions have been part of the human condition for a long time. And in a strange way, it helps calm my soul to connect with my ancestors in faith...to know my questions were their questions. To hear them struggle and still try to praise God. Not because they have figured out the answers once and for all...but because between the tension of questions and praise there is prayer and hymns that gives voice to our deepest hope. One psalm proclaims that the deep within us calls us to the deep that is God, that is the reason why I turn to the psalms. To join in the questions...not for answers...but to pray the questions, live the questions, and to discover there is a trace of God's grace there.
So, consider joining in this journey of reading the psalms...and I will post more about this next week.
Blessings ~
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