Wait for the Lord

Psalm 27

 

 

          I watched a good portion of the Army-Navy game yesterday. It’s sort of a tradition in our house. My father and all his cousins were Army. My uncle was Navy. He was the only one until I came along. After me were both my brother and my son. My sister went rogue and joined the Air Force. Now I have a daughter who married a Coastie. The point is, we have to watch. Our families, mine and Cindy’s, are generations thick in military service. Now that’s of no particular importance. It’s just my way of introducing this: It never fails when I watch that game that I realize that every player, every single player, and every student in gray or blue in the stands, has already committed to put his or her life on the line for duty, honor and country. They are barely out of their teens and their immediate futures are etched in those long gray lines of soldiers.

          Why, you might ask, do you make such a point here and now, Preacher? Why would you bring up soldiering so close to the celebration of our Savior’s birthday? What’s the connection? It’s a fair question. Listen to the words of the Psalmist in Psalm 27:

                          2 When evil doers assail me

                             to eat up my flesh,

                             my adversaries and foes,

                             it is they who stumble and fall.

 

                         3 Though an army encamp against me,

                            my heart shall not fear;

                            though war arise against me,

                            yet I will be confident.

 

          There is more connection to soldiering and the Incarnation than one might think at first impression. As surely as those cadets and middies do battle on the football field, they will very soon become brothers and sisters in arms, defending the ideals they have sworn to protect.  In much the same way, our Savior arrived as an innocent baby, but was sent from the beginning to be the most important soldier in the history of the world.

          Psalm 27 is a beautiful psalm. The beginning verses are full of confidence. It is often used at both Christmas time and at funerals because its words lift us up and give us hope. Peter Craigie has characterized it as a “Royal Ritual” because of its references to courage and confidence and its linkage to power. Listen to the royal attributes for the Lord used in its opening lines: “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” That statement cannot be found anywhere else in the Old Testament. It hearkens ahead to the apostle John’s many references to light in his gospel and letters. But here in this psalm, the idea of light and salvation is used for the first time. Light was equated to God in so many ways, from the illumination of physical darkness (Remember us talking about coming out of the darkness in Isaiah 9) to the illumination of the spirit and soul, to the sanctuary of God himself. The Psalmist’s words are “The Lord is my stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

          And yet, our Psalmist, most probably king David, in the middle of this psalm, cries out to God for grace, for an answer, for an acknowledgement. The confidence that God inspires has not penetrated the heart of the psalmist, and he appeals to God: Don’t hide your face from me. Don’t turn away in anger. Please don’t forsake me. The psalmist feels distant from the God he needs and loves. He becomes painfully aware of his own shortcomings. Even his own parents have deserted him. He feels alone. He prays for God to take him in.

          During the Christmas season, we reach out to do more for others. We sing more songs, buy gifts for each other, attend more social functions. Christians salute each other with Merry Christmas. Politically correct retailers, more worried about offending than commending, say Happy Holidays. Whatever the greeting, the thought is that we must be more kind. It is the season of giving. We consume food and gadgets and toys as if there may be no tomorrow. We must hurry so we will have time for fun, time for reflection.

          How’s that working for you? If you say not so good, you are not alone. We are a nation bent on having fun and meaningful events, even if it kills us! And yet, even in the midst of all the fuss and bustle, sometimes the fate of many of us is to feel more alone than ever before. Look at Psalm 27. David seems to have the same problem. “Cast me not off, forsake me not,” says David.  David sounds a little like us. He believes. He gives credit. He tries to rest in the shadow of the Lord. But…he just can’t quite be still. People are chasing him, lying about him, wanting to take his place. And he is worried. Sounds like someone I know.

          Do you have an answer for your doubt or your impatience? Do you have a method or a plan? Is there something in this Christmas season that should and can be different? If you really trust in God already, then you don’t need an answer. You already know what the rest of us are looking for. But if you could use a boost, a word to the wise, David might have the answer for you. Here in this psalm, David asks one thing. He actually uses those words. What’s that one thing? “…that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire, or seek, in his temple.” Watch now. David is not talking about heaven or life after his time on earth. He’s talking about now. He asks to dwell in God’s house now…all the days of his life. Life doesn’t begin in heaven. It starts right where you are. It’s not all roses down here, but if, like David, you are seeking the beauty of the Lord, it has a lot more to offer than what you may have been experiencing. David says “I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” I think he means the here and now.

          This is the third Sunday of Advent. The theme is joy. Last week we celebrated the theme of hope. Remember that in the biblical application of hope, it means expectancy. It is not concerned with some possibility, but rather with looking forward with confidence to an event or time which will come to pass. As we march ever so much closer to the anniversary of the birth of our Savior, we can look back to the Psalmist and realize that as people of faith, we share our hope and our joy expectantly. We have been promised. Christmas is the realization of one leg of that promise. The Savior came to earth. God came to earth. He came as a baby, a human. We call it the Incarnation, the coming of God in human form.

          And while we celebrate the love and hope and joy that Advent embodies, we should pause to remember what the Incarnation meant and means. It is the coming of the Lord.  He became man and dwelt among us, says John in his gospel. He came as a baby, but he came for a task. That task was as a soldier of the cross and a builder of bridges, the bridges of man with God. That is the story of Easter and for now, that is in the distant future. Today we can do as David did in Psalm 27. We too can wait for the Lord. We too can be strong and let our hearts take courage.

          Wait for the Lord. He is coming. Can you feel his presence yet? The prophets told God’s people over and over to wait for the Lord. They promised he would come. Isaiah announced the birth of that baby hundreds of years before he came.  And here we are in Advent, waiting on him again, not to come as he did in the manger, but to come again, at the end of the age.

           But Christmas also teaches us to wait actively. We need not wait in anticipation only, but in participation as well. Let him be the stronghold of your life. As surely as David called God our light and our salvation, he also found himself put upon by the ways of the world in which he lived. He found himself losing his confidence to deal with the things that life threw him. But then David reached out. He reached out in real time for a God whose presence could be felt right here, right now.  And in his wisdom, he advocated for himself and us a path that keeps us in the game. Wait upon the Lord, but wait with faith and hope and joy. Let your heart take courage. He is here. Just open your heart to make room.