Give me the chair...please!

The week has been full of kind blessings, quite literally. All kinds of folks from the congregation have taken the time to bless my upcoming summer sabbath, and I appreciate it beyond words.

With an early burst of warm weather, the Adirondack chair in the back yard has begun to call my name. I like to sit there, especially when nobody is around the house, and listen to the breeze

Meanwhile I've been hacking away at the reading list which was posted on this site in early March. The books by Mays, Zenger, and Brown/Miller's edited collection of Princeton faculty essays have brought me up to speed on some contemporary issues in psalm interpretation, particularly for the psalms of lament. Holladay's big fat historical survey has given a good overview of how the psalms have been used in temple, synagogue, and church for the past 3000 years. And Pat Miller's study of biblical prayers has reinforced my growing hunch that the church would benefit by drawing more frequently on scripture as a direct resource for prayer.

I've also listened a good bit to new and old musical interpretations of the psalms. In addition to the lined-out psalms which I've mentioned to everybody who will listen, there are a number of psalm composers who have written compelling works -- some without words. This week I've been enriched by two CDs of organ settings of Anthoni Van Noordt (Naxos) and a symphonic setting of three Holocaust psalms by jazz musician David Chesky. I'll write up my listening list in a future post.

That's the title of the sabbatical proposal, after all: "Psalms Without Words." The plan is to thoroughly drench myself in the hymns and prayers of Israel, until they bubble up afresh through my own imagination. And if they emerge anew as jazz prayers (as has already begun to happen), all the better.

For now, I'm on the verge of some "compost time." That old Adirondack chair is calling my name.