- Psalm 135
Here I sit at Pashas (my sweet little Coffee shop at the foot of Lookout Mountain, TN) on Monday morning, trying to rub the sleep and pollen from my eyes. Mondays. Wow, I bet a lot has been blogged about Mondays and pollen for that matter. But I'm really feeling my Monday this morning and I just don't have the strength to add to the pile of literature. In fact I can't even think of a creative word that would mean "a large body of written work." So as you see, I just used "pile." Great words for writers are words like "stuff," "sort-of," "that thingy" and I can't think of any others.
Why am I blogging you ask? Good question. Sometimes it's good to write when you don't have anything to say. That way you can get out all the junky "stuff" that no one in their right mind would ever read and go back to being profound. Yeah, that's it.
In my morning devotions, which consists of me wearily flipping through "Phil's version of read through the Bible in 15 years," I stumble upon passages that spur me on to write. And this morning, even with all of the above excuses, seems to be no different. As I was explaining to somebody the other day (a day that wasn't a Monday, in which I could talk to other human beings-being as it wasn't a Monday. Have I complained enough about Mondays yet?), the Bible is a writer's gold-mine! I should probably feel guilty for how much I use it to write silly blogs, but there's just so much in it begging to be reflected on by some life-and-child-weary-34-year-old sitting in his favorite coffee shop on a Monday morning.
The passage above is no different. In fact it's so undifferent as to almost rise from the page of my Bible and smack me around for a bit before it innocently settles back down onto its glossy-thin Bible page. Which makes me think have you ever read a book with such thin pages? I haven't. I wonder if my Bible is anorexic. We probably need to have a talk.
This passage likes to beat me up a bit, because it highlights the end of our idolatry. The end is that we become like our idols: lifeless. I don't want to become like a bike. I don't want to become like my fuzzy TV. I don't want to become like a soccer-ball, unless I get to be played in the English Premier League of course. I don't even want to become a dollar, even though it would be cool to see all the sites and places it's been.
Idols kill us and are killing us. They have come to steal, kill and destroy! Sound familiar? They're big meanies. And oh how we bow and pander and worship these "thingies." We think that without them we'll just die. Of course we rarely voice this, but we certainly live it out.
We human-beings are natural born killers - killers of others and ourselves. We human beings were meant to be worshippers, but we're better at destroying life. It's what we do best. We make idols, bow down and, as the passage says, become dumb, blind, deaf and out of breath, literally.
I wish we weren't like this. The human propensity to destroy and kill kind of stinks. In fact I sometimes wonder why God puts up with us. Especially me. I seem to do more harm than I do good. But God's promises never fall to the ground (sort of like the American flag), they are true and they promise to redeem and rescue his people, and he promises that he will enable us in good works (somewhere in the Bible).
So on this bleary, tired, and even boring Monday morning, I want to recommit to not look to the hills (where we set up all our Asherah poles) and to look to my God for breath. The sight, hearing and speech can wait for now. After all it is Monday.
Hang in there, Tuesday will come.