This article originally appeared in Redeemer Report, a monthly publication of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City.
“Write what you know” is an ancient maxim. For the last 11 months I’ve known anxiety, fear, emergency plane rides, surgery, more surgery, emergency surgery, more emergency surgery, infection, infections that occurred while on antibiotics from the previous infection, non-healing surgical wounds, more surgery, and, not least in my litany of self-pity, twice-daily dressing changes for wounds that will not go away.
In all of this, God has been at work, encouraging me to “run with perseverance the race set before me” (Heb. 12:1). If I can glorify him before so great a cloud of witnesses (mostly unseen), then I feel privileged to be given that assignment. But I have also longed for it to end, as well. Never before have I so fully understood the passion behind the twin prayers “Let this cup pass from me” and “Thy will be done.”
Psalm 34
Since being hospitalized most of October, and continuing on, I have been reading and re-reading the Psalms. There is one psalm that I picked to memorize, Psalm 34. It was kind of a no-brainer. Psalm 34:3 is the verse Tim and I chose to have engraved inside our wedding rings, more than 40 years ago. “Glorify the LORD with me, let us exalt his name together” sounds like a nice verse for two people getting married and going into ministry together.
Memorization is a great way to meditate on a piece of Scripture. You taste the words, you see the connections, you ask “why that, why here?” about a word, a phrase that you might otherwise have read right over and not given much thought. As I have been trying to memorize Psalm 34, I’ve noticed a few things.
Encouragement for the Afflicted
First, the sufferings of the psalmist are meant to encourage other afflicted people. When he sought God during periods of anxiety and fear (verses 4-10) God relieved him, saved him out of all his troubles, protected him, to the point he can say “he lacked nothing.” This theme is continued in verses 17-20, where it sounds as if the psalmist is giving us a blanket promise that God will always deliver us from our troubles, comfort us when we are crushed and brokenhearted, and protect us from harm.
But wait. Verse 20, where the psalmist says “he (God) will protect all his bones, not one of them will be broken” is a messianic prophecy. It is quoted in John’s Gospel account of the crucifixion of Jesus, when the soldiers refrained from breaking Jesus’s legs to hasten his death, because he was already dead. John says in 19:36, “These things happened so that the scripture would be fulfilled: ‘Not one of his bones will be broken.’”
Saved by the Resurrection
My reaction at noticing this connection was at first bewilderment. Well, yes, none of his bones got broken, but he did get crucified! That doesn’t count as being protected from anything bad in my book. But when it comes to my understanding vs. Scripture, I know there is always something lacking in my understanding. Jesus’s bones weren’t broken, but he died a painful, hideous death. God didn’t save him from that. But God’s protection of Jesus extended past the grave. He was raised from the dead.
Follow the thread, Kathy, follow the thought. While God may not protect you from every bad thing that might, has, or could happen to you, ultimately, through resurrection, you are safe. I will walk through death and come out on the other side fully healed, restored, saved, and protected. God does not protect us from things that harm us, he protects us as we go through them, to the other side of the resurrection, where our real hopes and happiness lie. Now there’s a thought I can cling to.
Is there enough evidence for us to believe the Gospels?
In an age of faith deconstruction and skepticism about the Bible’s authority, it’s common to hear claims that the Gospels are unreliable propaganda. And if the Gospels are shown to be historically unreliable, the whole foundation of Christianity begins to crumble.
