Psalm 16 1 Protect me, O God, for I take refuge in you; 2 All my delight is upon the godly that are in the land, 3 But those who run after other gods shall have their troubles multiplied. 4 Their libations of blood I will not offer, 5 O Lord, you are my portion and my cup; 6 My boundaries enclose a pleasant land; 7 I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel; 8 I have set the Lord always before me; 9 My heart, therefore, is glad, and my spirit rejoices; 10 For you will not abandon me to the grave, 11 You will show me the path of life; |
Now
The psalm you may have heard yesterday in church (above) concludes with this statement about the way God will act. Verse 11 says: You will show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it strikes me that the psalmist is confident that the way of life will be made clear, but it hasn’t happened yet. The question, then, for people of faith: How do we navigate the present not knowing the future? How do we live in the present with a sense of equanimity and peace?
It’s a question that people of all faiths ask. Thich Nhat Hanh, Buddhist priest spoke about the power of deep breath amidst the changes and chances of life. He said: Breathing in, I calm the mind. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment I know this is the only moment.
Jesus made a similar point in the Sermon on the Mount, citing the wisdom of lilies who do not worry about tomorrow, the wisdom of birds who soar, trusting they’ll be fed. He said: So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6)
A friend who was a philosophy/religion major in college used to end each of his papers with this anagram: SOKOP. Sounds okay on paper. Easier said than done. How do we live life in the present, letting go of resentments about the past, released from fears of the future.
In reflection on this question, I started thinking of biblical stories in which God calls someone and they answer with three words: Here I am. Volumes are spoken in those three words. They suggest self-awareness about the present, even if present circumstances were not always easy.
Moses, stuck in the wilderness for forty years, wonders why his stellar upbringing and gifts for leadership were not being used. But with the burning bush speaking to him, he simply opens himself to God’s presence by saying: Here I am.
God finds Elijah bummed out because the powers that be were out for retribution. While he sits on that pity pot in that cave, the still, small voice of the Lord comes to him and asks: What are you doing here? Another way to ask might be: What are you doing with the present moment? Elijah leaves that cave and goes out to anoint a future king.
Isaiah, when called to prophetic ministry, took his own spiritual inventory at that moment, telling the Holy One that he, the prophet, was a person of unclean lips. I suspect God was not surprised by that news. Despite Isaiah’s inventory of his own life, he makes himself available in that present moment by saying: Here I am.
Mary, a young girl, gets a surprise visit from an angel with a message that will change the course of history. In that moment, she wonders: How can this be? I can imagine it could have been unsettling. Do you think? In the end she says: Here am I, the servant of the Lord, let it be unto me according to your word.
I suspect all you biblical scholars can cite other examples, but you get the idea. We are called to live in the present, ready to say: Here I am, to hear that still, small voice come to us, not drowned out by resentment or regret about the past (I’m working on that one) or fret about the future (a lot of which is out of our control). In the present moment, we take stock of where we are and who we are. That includes expressions of gratitude for blessings surrounding us. The present moment holds no pretense that we have it all together. In the present moment, all we are called to do is open ourselves to God’s grace. Breathing helps.
Find quiet time today (and maybe each day) to take stock of where you are. Give thanks for ways you are blessed. Recognize your special brand of human frailty. Say: Here I am.
-Jay Sidebotham