Psalm 95

¹ Come, let us sing to the Lord!
    Let us shout joyfully to the Rock of our salvation.
² Let us come to him with thanksgiving.
    Let us sing psalms of praise to him.
³ For the Lord is a great God,
    a great King above all gods.
⁴ He holds in his hands the depths of the earth
    and the mightiest mountains.
⁵ The sea belongs to him, for he made it.
    His hands formed the dry land, too.

⁶ Come, let us worship and bow down.
    Let us kneel before the Lord our maker,
⁷     for he is our God.
We are the people he watches over,
    the flock under his care.

If only you would listen to his voice today!
⁸ The Lord says, “Don’t harden your hearts as Israel did at Meribah,
    as they did at Massah in the wilderness.
⁹ For there your ancestors tested and tried my patience,
    even though they saw everything I did.
¹⁰ For forty years I was angry with them, and I said,
‘They are a people whose hearts turn away from me.
    They refuse to do what I tell them.’
¹¹ So in my anger I took an oath:
    ‘They will never enter my place of rest.’”

Dear God, reading this as a 21st-century American, I’m shocked with how this worship psalm ends. Was this typical for them? Did it cycle around and use something as a chorus to make this ending more hopeful and worshipful. I am preaching at a church several weeks from now, and I started to wonder if the first part of this psalm wasn’t the message you wanted me to give. “If only you would listen to his voice today.” Then I saw the rest of it that ended in such a negative place. It stunned me. I know I’ve read this before, and I’ve probably had the same response before. But it still stuns me to see this description by the psalmist of what they imagined you felt (or you revealed to them you felt) for those 40 years between Egypt and they Jordan.

In today’s entry into Restore: A Guided Lent Journal for Prayer and Meditation, Sister Miriam actually focused on the line I focused on, but she included the first part of verse 8, “Don’t harden your hearts…” She quote the Catholic Catechism (CCC 2840): “Now–and this is daunting–this outpouring of mercy cannot penetrate our hearts as long as we have not forgiven those who have trespassed against us.” She follows up later and says, “Forgiveness is asking Jesus Christ for the grace to forgive. It is relinquishing our grasp upon the person who hurt us, surrendering the person to Jesus and asking Jesus to restore justice. It is an acknowledgment of the pain inflicted, how it affected us, an ongoing emotional release of it, and a decision to offer that person and ourselves a gift of love and freedom.”

Father, there are times when I think I have forgiven everyone, but then anger flashed back to me. Maybe it’s a new offense. Maybe it’s a reminder of an offense that I thought I had worked through and forgiven. Maybe it’s trying to find that line between loving and forgiving while still not trusting. I do know that I don’t want a hard heart. Even in my daily vocation, I work with clients who sometimes deceive me to get what they want. It can be hard to not become calloused for the next person even though they might legitimately need me. As I sit here now, I’m reminded of an old song by Petra called “Don’t Let Your Heart be Hardened.” I just looked up the song and listened to it. Frankly, it sounded pretty trite and “easy to say,” until I got to the last verse:

Let His love rain down upon you
Breaking up your fallow ground
Let it loosen all the binding
Till only tenderness is found

I think that the key to be really becoming forgiving and merciful is coming to deep terms with how sinful I really am and how much I really grieve you sometimes. And also how sinful I was before I finally turned to you and started worshipping you faithfully. But when I really see myself in the mirror, accept who I am and what I’ve been forgiven of, then I will more easily give your love and forgiveness to others. Help me to do all of this, Father.

I pray this in Jesus and with your Holy Spirit,

Amen