Is it a Journey, or an Immigration?

I have been thinking about the Jews as they walked toward Jerusalem and the temple a lot, and I really wonder what the mindset of a pilgrim would have been like. Was the trip to the temple an act of devotion? Or, was it an act of obedience that had to be sweated through and done because it is just "what we do?"

Most of the people travelling to Jerusalem would have been on foot. Those who were lucky enough to have livestock they could ride such as donkeys were the few. Even if a person of moderate wealth had livestock, it is likely the livestock was press-ganged into service on the homestead and could not be taken away for the journey. Sore feet and cranky dispositions would have likely been the biggest battle. Reciting the Psalms of Ascent was likely a way of fighting of fatigue, as well as focusing the mind and spirit during those times it would be easy to fall prey to bad attitude.

We love to think of life as a journey like the journey the Jews would take to the temple. So often though a journey is defined by a time frame. Can you imagine leaving for the temple and telling your family and friends that were not going that you would be going and not having any idea of when you will return? Most people would have at least a good idea of when they could get home. I cannot imagine leaving the house and telling my bride that I will be back whenever. I usually can give a close approximation of time. But here is the thing, our spiritual lives are an immigration. An immigration is different because you leave your place of comfort in hope of reaching a better place. The ticket you buy is a one way ticket with a general direction and no planned return. You intend to settle and begin conducting your affairs in a new place.

If we view our lives as believers as an immigration and not a journey, what would change in us? What would be the defining characteristics of our Christian lives? Immigration instead of journeying is permanent and as such a few things will be needed.

1) All of your essentials. You may get rid of many different things and cut down your supplies, but ultimately you are taking everything without plan to return.

2) Your family. In view of it being a permanent move, one cannot leave family behind.

3) Your ability to adapt. When you migrate you will be in a new culture, a new place, and often a whole new set of cultural assumptions and priorities. You must be willing and able to adapt.

These are just 3 of many things, but this sounds a lot like the Christian life does it not? While we are living in a culture, we live as aliens (Heb 11:13) with allegiance to the culture and country we are raised in, but with the ultimate allegiance to Jesus of Nazareth. While we are on this earth we are not journeying with the plan to return home (or to our old ways) - instead we look with faith at that which is ahead of us and never looking back. We live a life as an alien, we have left home and are on a Christian journey towards that which lays before us in faith.

When you are Immigrating it is so very easy to want to hold onto those things that defined you as a person before. Culture infers status and symbolism of importance. To leave your culture is to leave behind all that is familiar. In order to truly thrive in a new culture you must leave much of what you know behind. You may carry the wisdom of your elders and culture with you, but in order to adapt to a new culture you must be willing to leave much of it behind.

Jews who were travelling on a journey to the temple traveled with hope. They looked forward to the revelation of God and to being with God and one another on the journey. Hope was imbued in everything they did. They were "forward looking in their faith" as the book of Hebrews states. As Christians, can we follow their lead and have a forward looking faith? Can we look with optimism at the road before us with faithful knowledge that the road will eventually lead to the feet of the Temple?

I do not say this to be political, but if you are a Christian, you are an immigrant. You have one foot in the culture of today and are working in it as an exemplar of hard work, but you live with the understanding that your ultimate destination lies not in this culture or this world - it is greater, and oh so very worth the journey.

~Selah

Psalm of Ascent #2

"O LORD, my heart is not lifted up. 

my eyes are not raised to high;

I do not occupy myself with things to great and 

to marvelous for me. 

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned

child with it's mother; like a weaned child is my soul

within me. 

O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore."

Psalm 131 is a short but poignant reflection on the God of Israel. I can imagine a traveler on his way to Jerusalem beginning to work out the internal heart workings of worship and starting to address the humility needed in order to enter the temple properly and with respect. It is hard to genuflect if your heart is not in the right place. We are all great at lip service, most of us not always so great at having a heart to match the lip service. 

"My heart is not lifted up nor are my eyes raised to high." This is the pilgrim examining his heart and making sure he is not to proud of himself, nor that he feels he can look high and see and speak for God. He is preparing to hear God and praying the Psalm like it is a Psalm of examine. Stop and close your eyes for a minute and enter into the Psalmist shoes. You are dusty, dirty, tired and hungry. You likely have walked for days, or are preparing to walk for days. You are blistered, sore, yet fulfilled and energized by the thousands of pilgrims you are on the road with going where you are going. There are no strangers on this path, only fellow friends and pilgrims. 

"I do not occupy myself with things to great and marvelous for me." I cannot but think of the pilgrim clearing his mind and focusing only on that which is before him - a long road and the big unknown. The future is to great and marvelous, the past is already done. How often do we bind ourselves up with thoughts of the past holding us back, and the thought of an unknown future keeping us in fear? The Psalmist knows the long road can lead to much introspection, as it rightfully should. But he is clearing his mind of those things that so easily bind. He is calming his soul. 

Psalms of Ascent

I start this with an admission - I do not regularly participate in lent. I admire those who make a habit of it, and in time I may join. I just lack the intestinal fortitude to do so. However, I love the journey idea of lent. We are all on a journey, even if we do not acknowledge it as so. We are all growing and changing, with or without purposeful intent. 

Some of my favorite Psalms are in the Psalms of ascent. While scholars and teachers often vary in their views of what the Psalms purpose was for, most can agree that they were Psalms that were recited as Jews were travelling towards Jerusalem and the temple to worship. Psalm 130 starts:

"Out of the depths I cry to you; Lord. Lord hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy." While we have no empirical proof that these Psalms were recited in the order we have them in our Bible, I cannot think of a better way to start a meditation. I cannot imagine a better way to start lent for that matter. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. Out of the depths I cry...

As we pray, do we often ask God to listen? It is not that he would not be listening to us, but if you are like me I am afraid to get in the face of God and say "Be attentive and give me mercy". We have this notion that God is not pleased if we get in His face now and again. God actually favors those who are impetuous at times. Look at Jacob when he wrestled with God. Look at Moses when he said he would fast and pray until God remembered His blessing to Israel. One of my favorite stories in the New Testament is when the Samaritan woman was at the feet of Jesus and she boldly reminds God that even the dogs in the house of his master have enough food to eat. How bold these, and so many others were. The God we serve is not often delighted in the demure and dilettante. 

Impetuousness is an offense - if you are the one in power. Part of having power is having control. The impetuous person, when in pursuit of God, seeks to cut through the red tape and the pomp and the circumstance. To be impetuous in the house of God may offend the holders of power, but not the one seeking to commune with and have a relationship with He who gives that power. 

As we journey - Lenten or otherwise, boldness is a virtue in the eyes of He who sees you always. To seek His blessings and to bypass the gatekeepers who wish to keep it for themselves is an act of courage. Courage driven by the fact that "with you there is forgiveness Lord" (vs. 4) We can serve Him with reverence. We can approach Him ourselves. 

So often the voice in my head says "I cannot do..." or "God would not..." and I defeat myself before I even begin. Some of this is learned response from the authorities we have, and have had in our lives. What if we begin our prayer each day, our journey each day, with a healthy dose of impetuous strength before God? What would He say? 

So many thoughts...

~Selah