She's Alright With Me

Josh the Quarterback has taught me something very simple but very profound, like when you find out for the first time that life isn’t a story about you but somebody else. Josh taught me to think about Jesus every time I read the Bible. It’s simple, right? It wasn’t for me and I still have to remind myself to think about it every time I read the Bible.

For example, I love Psalm 121. The first time I read this Psalm in honesty was when I was dealing with some problems and I asked B for Brice for something to read. He told me to read Psalm 121. I read Psalm 121. Over and over. I still read Psalm 121 over and over. In the mornings, when I eat par fee, I sometimes open my Bible to Psalm 121. It’s a very comforting Psalm and it makes you feel safe. Not safe like something bad isn’t going to happen, but safe like when something bad does happen, God will make it okay. So, I took the suggestions of B for Brice and Josh the Quarterback and fused them. I added my own worldview also.

1.     1. Read Psalm 121.

2.     2. Read Psalm 121 with Jesus in mind.

3.     3. Read Psalm 121 like a poem or a song, analyzing diction, verb tense, themes, parallels, and repetition.

The first word in the Psalm is “I.” The first subject introduced by the Psalmist is himself, and, even further, the reader. When you or I sit to read this we begin by declaring “I.” Immediately following our declaration comes our action “will lift.” The diction used in the first verb suggests ascension. To lift means to bring something upward, into a higher position. We are elevating something. But, what’s even more, the act of lifting becomes a sacrifice.

In Exodus 29, right after the Ark of the Covenant has been built, God gives instructions on how to perform animal sacrifices. He says, “You shall offer up in smoke the whole ram on the alter; it is a burnt offering to the LORD: it is a soothing aroma, an offering by fire to the LORD.”

Several things strike me about this verse. The first, as I have italicized, is that, like in Psalm 121, the Israelites were told to “offer up” the ram. Ascension. Up! The second is that God wanted the “whole ram.” The ram has just been cut into pieces in verse 17, and God lays out instructions (laws and ordinances) that have every part of the ram “offered up.” Other versions, as Josh and I discovered, do not use the actual phrase “offer up.” But, even if the Hebrew doesn’t denote lifting in the language, think about the physical process the priest would go through with the ram. He had to cut his legs and entrails and stuff, and then he would have to put the ram on the altar. He had to lift the ram onto the altar.

The third thing that strikes me is that God uses his name, YHWH. When “LORD” is seen in all capitals it means, in most Bibles, that God’s personal name YHWH is being used. In Jewish culture, even today, this name is sacred. It is very different than the Hebrew word that is translated “God” or “Lord” in the Bible, ­Adonai, which refers to the lordship of God, the ruling King in Heaven. The literal translation of YHWH is almost untraceable. I won’t pretend to even be able to talk about the meaning of YHWH but I can tell you that it’s God’s name. His personal name.

The first three words of the Psalm present the writer or reader presenting a sacrifice. The next phrase introduces the object being acted upon, “my eyes.” We, I, you, are “lifting” our eyes just as the ram was “offered up” to God, as a burnt offering in smoke. Next, the Psalmist introduces another image of ascension. To where, and to whom, do we “lift” our “eyes” to? We lift our eyes to the “mountains.” We aren’t just lifting our eyes up to an altar. We are lifting our eyes up to the mountains, physical representations of the grand ascendency of God, of YHWH.

After this we ask a question: “From where shall my help come?” Notice that both verbs used so far have been future tense. We “will lift” our eyes and where “shall” our help come from. But now, since we have posed the question, we answer the obvious. Who lives in the mountains? Who is the only one worthy of offering sacrifices to?

“My help comes from the LORD.” Two things: we have addressed our Adonai personally, citing his name YHWH. The second: in the NASB words that are italicized are not in the original Hebrew, so the literal translation would be, “My help from the LORD.” Comes is merely implied. That’s awesome to me because here’s what it does: it literally takes away time. It just is. It was. It will be. “My help from the LORD.”

We don’t offer sacrifices to God because we are good. We offer sacrifices to God in response to who He is and what He has done for us. God has helped us, He helps us, and He will help us, we realize it, and then we seek Him. This is awesome because it puts all the glory in God’s jealous hands. We can’t do anything good that isn’t a response to God, and seeking His help is no different. The act of seeking help becomes a sacrifice itself because, in that act, we depend on God to be accepted, like is done in a sacrifice.

We describe our Lord, our Adonai, by saying He is the ONE “who made heaven and earth.” God is not a god who lives on Mount Olympus and feuds like a child with Legos. YHWH created, ex nihil, the heavens and the earth. YHWH is the original artist who, unlike any artist since, created something out of nothing. He had no canvas. No paint even. Yet here we are, lifting our eyes to the mountains.

Imagine you are on a journey, with three of your friends. You are American and you decide it’d be awesome to go Pakistan and climb a mountain or climb up the highlands. Probably not the smartest idea, but you go anyway. When you get off the plane and unload your supplies you notice that people stare at you and it gives you that feeling on the inside when you know you might possibly be in danger. You’re brave, so you go to the foot of the mountain and start your trek. You make good progress but soon the sun leaves you and you set up camp. There are four of you, so you divide the night into quarters to keep watch. The first watch starts and does great, even the second guy didn’t fall asleep. But when Doug, the third watch, is about an hour into his duty, he falls asleep. Damn it. You wake up and there are guns pointed to your head. The Taliban, whose numbers have increased since the “War on Terror” began, smile nice smiles. You look at Doug, “Damn it Doug.” You get shot, but it’s okay because you go to heaven. But still! Damn it Doug! Why did you fall asleep? Why didn’t you keep your watch over us?

“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber.” Imagine yourself on that trip again, climbing the treacherous rocks, sleeping in the frightful night. Now imagine that, instead of Doug, YHWH is your watchman. You no longer have to divide the night into four shifts, because YHWH says He’ll take care of it. Not only does He say that, but He also tells you that you won’t slip on the rocks. He won’t let you fall. Our God is an awesome. He keeps watch as we climb, as we lift our eyes to Him on our trek to His Kingdom.

Again, in verse four, it is repeated that “He . . . will neither slumber nor sleep.” Repetition is big in any language, and Hebrew is no different. The Psalmist repeats the word “sleep” or “slumber” three times. God won’t do this. We are safe!

That’s the first half. I need to go eat. I still need to tie Jesus into this Psalm like Josh the Quarterback says. I’ll do the second half of the Psalm in another blog, and then a third bringing Jesus into the mix. Peace.