Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
At some point during my years in youth group, for some momentous occasion the nature of which I can no longer remember, I was given a small, imitation leather bound book with the title The Bible Promise Book gold embossed across the front. The font was the same kind you see on the cover of a Bible or hymnal. A sort of topical reference guide, The Bible Promise Book is a collection of verses from all across the Bible categorized according to the nature of the promises of God to which the different verses are supposed to speak. There are chapters with the headings “Anger”, Children”, “Children’s Duties”, “Eternal Life”, “Laziness”, “Lust”, “Parents’ Duties” and “Worry”, just to name a few. When someone is feeling lonely or shameful or tempted, he or she can search the table of contents for the category that most closely pertains to their situation, turn to the right page and find therein verses from scripture meant to provide comfort in their given circumstance. (There is an app for that, too.)
Whatever one thinks about the purpose or methodology of texts like these, their sales numbers do not lie: over 7 million copies of this little book have been sold (and this does not include other versions of the same idea). The popularity of these books speaks to the deep interest we have in what relevance God and God’s promises have for the things we encounter in our day-to-day lives. What does God say about the anger I feel towards others or towards myself? What does God think about my duties and performance as a parent? Am I lazy and is it sinful to be so? God’s promises are an important part of the narrative of scripture and we would do well not to ignore them, but that does not make our wrestling with those promises easy. Many pastors will be able to recall a time when a congregant laid claim to what he or she believed to be a promise of God. Perhaps he was seeking healing from illness or disease or addiction. Maybe it was a concerned parent or grandparent who had strived to “bring up a child in the way she should go” wondering where they had gone wrong. Maybe it was a parishioner who had given financially in hopes of seeing a two- or threefold return. Whatever shape it takes, “name it and claim it” is nothing new.
This week provides an opportunity for the pastor to talk about the nature of the promises of God. Psalm 91 is full of promises and has a long and storied history as a special psalm of comfort for God’s people, both individually and corporately. It is important for us in our interpretation to ask questions like, “Who is this psalm written to or about initially?” or “How would this psalm have been incorporated into worship?” The default approach to the promises we find in scripture is to say that God has made them and, since God is true to God’s word, will never fail to meet them. While vivid testimonies to God’s miraculous protection in the midst of trouble are not difficult to come by, they are not the norm. Many of the church’s faithful throughout history have suffered from the kinds of things this psalm seems to promise protection against. Were these saints not to be found in the shadow of the almighty? Did they not make God their refuge? How do we deal with the discrepancy between the times God seems to come through and the times God doesn’t?
Often when this psalm is read or preached, the burden of responsibility is placed on the person who is or who would be praying the psalm-- one must get underneath and stay in the shadow of the almighty for the promises of God (at the very least those mentioned here in this passage) to remain valid. This way of reading God’s promises in scripture applies beyond just Psalm 91. The ways we have been trained to read scripture make it seem as though we ourselves are the focus of any given passage and that the work of God in our lives and in our world rises and fall on our faithfulness, on our ability. We would do well to tune our readings of
scripture to the question of what any given passage of scripture has to say about who God is and what God is up to in our lives and in our world. This is especially true in the case of Psalm 91.
The psalms are among the most important texts for God’s people and have held a primary place in their worship and theological reflection since before they were assembled as a single unit. As the early church continued to wrestle with what it meant to worship Jesus as God, the psalms played a pivotal role in that reflection. When we read scripture, praying for eyes to see and ears to hear who God is and how God is at work, we must do so by looking for how Jesus Christ is being revealed in and through the text. God’s promises must be filtered through the lens of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ.
In verses 14-16, there is a remarkable shift in voice in the psalm from the third person to the first person. It is no longer the minister or psalmist singing about what God will do; now we hear God saying what God will do. It is a promise in the midst of these verses that stands out more each time I read through the psalm. There, in the middle of verse 15, God promises, “I will be with them in trouble.” This promise seems almost insignificant compared to the other grand promises made throughout this psalm, but it is in its seeming insignificance that this promise carries so much weight. In the midst of all the promises for protection and care in this passage, there is one promise in particular is consistently borne out in the revelation of the Holy One of Israel in the person of Jesus Christ. “I will be with you in trouble.” One would think that if anyone dwelt far enough under the shadow of the Most High to avoid trouble according to this psalm, it would be Jesus, but Jesus does not avoid suffering. Rather, Jesus enters into it.
I grew up hearing and singing a song in church that I believe the author wrote while reflecting on the promises found in Psalm 91 and other passages like it. “God Will Take Care of You” is a lovely song and the melody and lyrics make it an easy choice for a lullaby. While expecting our first child, my wife and I encountered the song anew and decided we would sing it to our kid(s).
Be not dismayed whate’er betide,
God will take care of you.
Beneath (Her) wings of Love abide,
God will take care of you.
God will take care of you,
Through every day, o’er all the way.
God will take care of you.
God will take care of you.
Thro’ days of toil when heart doth fail,
God will take care of you.
When dangers fierce your path assail,
God will take care of you.
All you may need he will provide,
God will take care of you.
Nothing you ask will be denied,
God will take care of you.
No matter what may be the test,
God will take care of you.
Lean, weary one, upon his breast,
God will take care of you.
It wasn’t too many bedtimes into singing and reflecting on this song that I decided I couldn’t even sing it to myself, much less my kids. It felt dishonest. While it may or may not have been the intent of the author, the text of this song encourages so many of the assumptions about God and God’s promises that the larger narrative of scripture does not bear out. So, while rocking our son one night, I changed the lyrics from “God will take care of you” to “God will be there with you.” This is a promise I can sing to my children because it is a promise God has made to us and embodied in Jesus Christ: that God will be with us, wherever we may go.