Living with the Psalms - Part 5

These ancient Jewish prayers are working on me. Recently, when something happens, the psalms give voice to brief bursts of prayers:

• In the middle of last week's glorious spring weather, "the heavens are telling the glory of God." (Psalm 19:1)
• Driving through a torrential rain storm last Saturday night, "the voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders." (Psalm 29:3)
• As a friend shared the update on his cancer treatments, "O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me." (Psalm 30)
• Overhearing some malicious speech in the grocery store, "Do not drag me away with the wicked, with those who are workers of evil, who speak peace with their neighbors, while mischief is in their hearts." (Psalm 28:3)

Some scholars think that the Psalms offer signposts for righteous behavior and action, as marked in the first psalm, which separates good behavior and its rewards from the distortions and distortions of the ungrounded life. There is something to this. The psalms repeatedly distinguish between the wise and the foolish, or the good and the evil. In this way, they are thoroughly saturated in Israel's wisdom tradition.

Others hear the psalms as the expression of soul-filled prayers. There is something of great depth about them, something deeper than mere words. I wonder what some psalms would sound like if they were voiced in instrumental music. (That, of course, is some of the future ferment for me this summer.) Or, if the psalms were painted, what colors would the artist use? Deep blue for a lament, or canary yellow for a doxology? We reduce the power of psalms if we regard them as mere words - - they are deep yearnings of humanity.

For now, they are supplying me with a lexicon for prayer. Not merely the old "begging" prayers where I tell God what I want, but the kind of prayers that connect my hopes and fears with the presence (or perceived absence) of God.