Seasons

Recently I spent a week visiting family in Texas.  As I pulled out of my driveway to make the trek I took a good look at the flaming red maple in our front yard, on fire with color illuminating the season.  I was sad when I returned several days later to see that almost every leaf from the tree was gone.  A powerful wind came through one day and stripped the tree of its Fall beauty.  

It left me anxious for a future autumn. 

Fall is drawing closer to an end and the beauty of this quarterly season has once again provided our eyes and souls with natural art.  It has me thinking about each season the year brings, and how each season has a beauty of its own.  

Very much like the seasons of our lives. 

SPRING

As the temperatures of winter begin to warm into Spring, new buds on trees, new green hues in the grass, and new flowers emerge as from a long slumber. It reminds me of new birth.   It reminds me of being young, and having your whole life ahead of you. 

We are always in such a hurry to move on from this place in our lives and often miss the real beauty of youth --- and new beginnings.  Education.  Marriage.  Children.  And many firsts.  There is an energy and a youthful vigor that we often don’t appreciate until our lives are in a new season.  Spring has its own beauty. 

SUMMER

During Summer the Spring has done its work and now everything is in full bloom and fruitful.  This is the prime of our lives when we have in many ways reached a destination.  Our careers are in full swing.  Our philosophy and worldview has solidified.  We have grown and matured and begin to notice the beauty of a life we have treated like a race, and we long to simply stop and smell the proverbial roses.  Summer has its own beauty.  It is in many ways the graduation of Spring. 

    

FALL

Fall is a little like Spring in that it is a transitional period.  Summer warmth does not immediately become Winter’s cold.  There is this beautiful period of the year when summer has come to an end but winter is still not upon us.

Isn't it interesting that the leaves are the most beautiful when they are in the last stages of  life?  They take on a beauty that the most fruitful summer can only envy.  We human beings have this transitional phase.  We have raised our children, and now begin to think about how we will spend the rest of our lives. 

As a parent I weep with joy and also loss at photos of the Spring time of our marriage, having our children, building a home.  And as much as I long for the Spring, I am looking forward to the beauty that the next phase of our lives will bring.  Fall is beautiful. 

WINTER

Winter can be cold.  Winter can bring lots of difficulty to a life.  As we reach this stage of existence the colorful leaves have been cast off, the grass has died, and the year has run its course for vibrant vegetation.  Winter may not be my favorite season, but it certainly has its own beauty. 

I remember taking that long Texas trip a few years ago in the early days of winter. Leaving very early in the morning I arrived at the edge of the Flint Hills just after sunrise.  The Flint Hills certainly have their own beauty, as the prairie contributes its unique brand of artistry.  The green fields of Spring and the colorful flowers of Summer are truly missed when the landscape is nothing but… brown. However, the cold air that brings death to ground growth is the same catalyst for breathtaking beauty.

The temperatures reached freezing in the night and as I entered the Flint Hills the ground was covered in a sheet of ice as far as the eye could see.  Each blade of the tall grass was an individual icicle.  And as the sun peeked over the horizon the reflections in the ice were nothing short of enchanting.  In the death of winter I found life giving food for my soul.  The beauty on that plain would be envied by the other seasons if they were flesh and blood. 

In the winter cold a beauty emerges.  A lifetime of wisdom and gratitude, often marked with the effects of wintry loss, can rest in assurances that Spring will happen again.  Spring will come for their progeny, and for the soul of the life traveler making tracks in the snow. 

The Cry of the Flesh... A Holy Expression

I had only been living in Paducah, Kentucky for about five months when a fourteen year old boy, Michael Carneal, walked into one of our high schools and opened fire on a ‘before school’ prayer meeting.  Three young ladies died from gunshot wounds that day.  One young lady was kept alive on machines until her father, away on business, could come home and say his goodbyes. 

           

Before the day was over students were hanging signs around the school that said “We Forgive You Michael.”  Because that’s what Christians do, right?  They forgive.  Even though the sun was yet to reach mid-sky. Even before the final goodbyes between a father and his daughter.  My heart and soul have this question:  what gave those students the right to forgive when they were not the ones who suffered? 

            

At lunch time I stood in line at a fast food restaurant waiting to order.  There was a television on the wall with continuing coverage of the shooting.  Directly in front of me was a crusty old codger of a man in overalls staring at the television and shaking his head.  “They should hang that boy from the highest tree they can find,” he declared in disgust.  I found myself in profound agreement with him --- which put me outside the Christian camp for the moment.  In the midst of this tragedy this average old codger expressed the heart of many hurting people. 

It was like an imprecatory psalm. 

            

With each passing day of human existence I have come to have a deep appreciation for the Psalms.   Most of Scripture is a matter of God speaking and his people listening.  The psalms, however, are humanity speaking back to God.  The verses written were put to music and used to express praise to God for his provision, his goodness, and his mercy.  As a collection they are truly the earliest of songbooks for God’s people. 

But would it shock you to find, tucked away in the hymns of the holy, verses like these? 

Let death take my enemies by surprise; 

       let them go down alive to the grave,   Psalm 55:15 

Break the teeth in their mouths, O God…   Psalm 58:6 

May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow.    Psalm 109:9 

           

This is just a sampling of what are called ‘imprecatory psalms.’ Does it seem odd, or maybe even offensive, to find such evil intentions in the hearts and minds of someone writing a psalm?  After all, we are aware of the teachings of God’s Son, who says that we are not to repay evil for evil.  He also says to love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.  The word “imprecate” means to wish evil on someone.  So how is it that in God’s Word you have such strong anti-Christian language?  Or, as one student of the Scripture asked, “what are these verses doing in my Bible?” 

            

First of all, God didn’t write the Psalms.  Remember, these psalms are human beings expressing thoughts, feelings, and emotions to God.  If that troubles you or challenges your understanding of what it means for the Bible to be inspired then you might want to remember that God spoke to the world through people.  He inspired the writers of Scripture to speak his words within their own context, in their own language and in their own style.  If we limit our understanding of inspiration to mean that God grabbed the prophet or poets hand and guided the writing that strictly then we miss a big part of the dynamic role human beings play in how God is made known to the world. 

            

And with the psalms the writer cries out to God from a human standpoint.  We are able to connect with those ancient writers who experienced doubt and disillusion, anger and disappointment, and even pain and agony.  Our lives are littered with these human experiences.  These ancient poets were able to articulate what many people felt when it came to navigating life as a person of faith.  But notice that they took their troubles and questions and confusions to the right place.  To God himself. 

            

The writer of Psalm 55 begins his psalm, “Listen to my prayer, O God, do not ignore my plea; hear me and answer me.  My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught…”  And within the psalm you find resolve for the writer, like v. 22 which remind the worshiper, “Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you…”   The writer of Psalm 58 asks to be avenged by God, but throughout the psalm you find that he trusts God to make things right.  So he is able to simply trust that God will handle things and he can simply worship… “With my mouth I will greatly extol the LORD; in the great throng I will praise him.”

           

I like the earthiness of the psalms because life is not lived in a sanctuary.  The sanctuary helps us see the world differently, and gives us fresh perspective.  Like the writer of Psalm 73 who nearly lost his faith when he watched wicked people flourish and good people perish.  His vision became clear when he went to God, “When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me, till I entered the sanctuary of God…” 

But life is lived as you walk away from the sanctuary.   

           

I think this is why the 23rd Psalm is so often used at funerals.  Personally, I often feel inept when it comes to helping people cope with death.  I always feel so short on answers.  But in most cases answers don’t help or alleviate suffering.  What seems to help is a willingness to share in someone’s suffering.  This psalm, number 23 in the collection, is like a friend who comes along side of you and helps you speak when you simply do not have the words.  It says that though we may experience times of darkness and doubt, we don’t need to fear because our shepherd is caring for us.  I am thankful for David and his ancient expression. 

            

The psalms help us connect to a God who understands what it means to be human.  When Jesus came into this world he wrapped himself in human flesh and lived among his creation.  His sod traveling existence took him down roads of pain and suffering.  In that garden the night before he was arrested and killed he cried out to God in agony and even fear, but his cries were transformed into words of trust and faith.  And from the cross he even borrowed the words of a psalm writer when he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  (Psalm 22:1). 

May the words of the Psalms allow you to express your true plight to God, and may your expressions be met with the calmness and security that can only come from your creator.