Psa. 119:10 “With my whole heart I seek you;
let me not wander from your commandments!” (English Standard Version)
How do you get lost? Sorry to ask such a personal question, but I’m curious as to whether I’m the only one who gets off the right path little by little.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I can also go into what a friend of mine called, “a premeditated backslide.” Absolutely, I can!
But more often, I deviate from the right path ever so slightly. The problem is that, once I get off the path, it is so easy to keep going.
Psalm 119 exudes an intense desire to stay on the path that God has marked out. The psalm is filled with words of love for God’s words and commands, as well as motivations for obeying those words and commands. “With my whole heart I seek you . . .” (the first half of verse 10) is typical.
However, the second half of verse ten recognizes a distressing truth. The psalmist prays that he may not wander from the truth. We humans do not generally pray for something that is a slam dunk. Apparently, wandering is always an option.
Victor P. Hamilton, my beloved undergrad Old Testament professor, notes that the Hebrew root translated “wander” in verse 10 “. . . is used to describe how sheep got lost (Ezek 34:6). They simply nibble their way to lostness.”[1]
A question I need to ask myself often is “Am I nibbling myself to lostness?” I have a track record of doing that. Sometimes, the nibbling is literal. Eating just a little more than I need, and I’ve gained fifteen pounds. Not all at once, of course. I was just nibbling!
Tolerating evil thoughts. But of course, I was just nibbling. Judging others is one of my current hot-button nibbles. I struggle with this, even though I am well aware that Jesus said “Don’t!” Oh, come on! Just a little nibble of the botulinum toxin won’t hurt.
Watching/reading/listening to too much news and depressing myself is one of my current drugs of choice. But of course, I was just nibbling. (This is an incredibly now issue. I was tempted to check the internet to see what stupid things we were doing or plotting to do to one another currently. I decided to finish writing this post instead. Good decision!)
In his book, The Screwtape Letters,C. S. Lewis noted that “Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one–the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.”
Don’t nibble yourself to death today. I’ll try to avoid that as well.
[1] Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament, volume 2, page 904.
I like to see connections between things that may not seem to be connected. For example, take my study and meditation on Psalm 119, and connect it with my sweetheart teaching me to cook pecan banana pancakes.
I was thinking about the longing, the intense desire to obey God’s commandments, as reflected in Psalm 119. Psalm 119 is very long. In fact, it is the longest chapter in the Bible, at least in terms of verses. Many folks think of it as very long and very repetitious. I used to regard it that way in the past.
I have changed my mind. Long? Yes. Boring? Most definitely not!
Psalm 119 certainly uses the same format throughout. It is an acrostic. Each section of eight verses starts with a different letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Since there are 22 letters in the Hebrew language, the psalm contains 176 verses. (8 x 22=176.)
Furthermore, the psalm uses many of the same words throughout. However, it combines them in somewhat different manners from section to section.
But the thing that makes me love Psalm 119 the most, is the sheer longing, joy, and delight that the psalmist expresses. And this longing, joy, delight—and yes, even love—are directed toward God’s Law, God’s commands, God’s judgments.
Now, I don’t generally love commands. I may obey them (sometimes). I may even see that they have a point (occasionally). But loving, delighting and rejoicing in them, loving them? No, I don’t think so!
And yet, the psalmist did long, delight in, rejoice in, and love them.
Hummm . . .
So, while I was meditating on this, my wife called me down for breakfast. She is teaching me to cook healthy, nutritious, and (hopefully) tasty things. This morning, we were working on pecan banana pancakes. She had already prepared the ingredients when I came down. Fortunately, she stayed with me, giving me counsel about how to put the lid on the blender properly. (This prevented my having to spend half-an-hour cleaning pancake batter off the kitchen ceiling.)
She also flagged me down when I was about to dump the baking powder in with the moist ingredients before I had mixed them up properly. This kept parts of the pancakes from being flat as a . . . well, . . . as flat as a pancake, and other parts of the pancakes looking like they might have a thyroid problem.
In short, my wife gave me guidance and commands when needed, and encouragement whenever possible.
And the pancakes turned out quite nicely. In fact, they were very tasty! This was due, in large part to my wife’s commands.
Perhaps the psalmist of Psalm 119 realized that the divine chef was in the kitchen with him, giving him commands to help his life to turn out well. Perhaps God’s commands help life to turn out better and tastier than it would if we ignored God’s commands. Maybe I (maybe we) could come to love God’s commands if I (we) realized that God’s commands really are for our own good. Maybe we can’t really achieve good outcomes without a good, godly process.
And maybe, someday, we will come to long for, delight and rejoice in, and love the process. Maybe that is what Heaven is.
I’ve struggled with perfectionism all my life. And I’ve always known that I am far from perfect. So, because of my (perceived) honesty, I’ve always thought that I at least had a shot at the little known (and less esteemed) virtue that goes by the name “humility.”
Of course, thinking that you are perfect is pride. But it struck me this morning—in a blinding flash of the obvious—that even wanting to be perfect is pride. And pride, according to the Bible, is not simply recognizing that we have accomplished something good. Pride is pretending that our good is a whole lot better than it is. As such, pride is evil. So wanting to be perfect is not a workable idea.
Furthermore, at least in my case, want-to-be perfection is one component of my addictive personality. Desiring a perfection that can never be, creates tremendous soul dissonance. I cannot tolerate that for long, so I create an escape hatch for my perfectionism. What would feel good to me? What would kill the pain, or at least deaden it?
Voila! Addiction! An escape from reality that proves to be even worse than the reality itself.
What is the antidote to this unholy trinity of perfectionism, pride, and addiction? Perhaps facing the reality of my never-going-to-be-enough-ness might help. At least, I’m never going to be enough if “enough” means being perfect.
I was listening to Psalm 119 on the You Version app this morning. The psalmist praises God and his Torah for 175 verses. There are words of mourning, too, and words that encourage himself and his hearers to follow God’s instruction.
But then comes the last verse, verse 176:
“I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.”
(Psalm 119:176 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Psa._119:176.)
Sometimes, that is the best I can do. I’ve wandered away. Come and seek me! I haven’t entirely forgotten your commandments.
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