Psalms for Lent

It's become an annual habit. Every Spring, in the season of Lent before Easter, I switch my iPhone's camera to black and white and post a photo everyday. It's become a discipline. I do it to prepare for Easter, but I also do it as an annual excuse to be forced to think visually again. I love photography, but amidst my writing and music hobbies it often takes third tier. These annual exercises are excuses to resurrect it. 

In past years, I've used collections of poetry as my Lent photo guide. That has become distracting, so this year I've stuck to the Psalms. Every day I would prayerfully read a psalm and hone in on the one verse that I needed most that day. That verse became my prayer, and I would select and edit an image with it in mind. 

Here are the results. I'm mostly happy with them. I needed these psalms during that season and I hope that desperation is echoed in the images. I also hope to do more photo projects around the psalms in the years ahead. Perhaps someday the work will result an a sort of illustrated Psalter? That's far in the future. I just know I want to dwell in these ancient prayers all my life, and that includes responding to them in this way.

Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord?

24

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. 

25

For your steadfast love is before my eyes

26

Let your heart take courage

27

Be their shepherd and carry them forever. 

28

The voice of the LORD strips the forests bare

and in his temple all cry, "Glory!"

29

"Oh LORD, be my helper!"

30

My times are in your hand. 

31

I shall counsel you with my eye upon you. 

32

Those who look to him are radiant,

and their faces shall never be ashamed.

34

Say to my soul,

"I am your salvation!"

35

Oh, continue your steadfast love to those who know you.

36

Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself.

37

All my longing is before you

38

For I am a sojourner with you,

a guest, like all my fathers.

39

As for me, I am poor and needy,

but the LORD takes thought for me.

40

At night his song is with me,

a prayer to the God of my life.

42

Send out your light and your truth;

let them lead me;

43

Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear:

45

God is in the midst of her

46

For God is the King over all the earth

47

We have thought on your steadfast love, O God

48

For he will receive me.

49

Hear, O my people

50

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

and uphold me

51

I will wait for your name

52

Oh that salvation would come out of Zion!

53

the Lord is the upholder of my life.

54

And I would say, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove!

I would fly away and be at rest;"

55

You have kept count of my tossings  

56

Monday

I cry out to God Most High, 

to God who fulfills his purpose for me

57

Tuesday

surely there is a God who judges  

on earth. 

58

Wednesday

My God in his steadfast love will

meet me; 

59

Thursday

O God, you have rejected  

60

Friday

From him comes my salvation

62

Sunday

Evening Prayer: A Photo Sequence for Psalm 4

Evening Prayer

A Photo Sequence for Psalm 4

Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!

You have given me relief when I was in distress.

Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!

---

O men, how long shall my honour be turned into shame?

How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? Selah

But know that the LORD has set apart the godly for himself;

The LORD hears when I call to him.

---

Be angry, and do not sin;

---

ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Selah

---

Offer right sacrifices,

and put your trust in the LORD.

---

There are many who say, "Who will show us some good?

Lift up the light of your face upon us, O LORD!"

You have put more joy in my heart

than they have when their grain and wine abound.

---

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

---

A Note on the Sequence

The day draws to a close, but I am not yet ready to relinquish control. To submit to sleep is to admit that the day is done, that not all its wrongs can be righted, that my plans to accomplish everything have failed, and that its tensions remain unresolved. Even though it is decreed in our bodies that we return to sleep, it is not easy. We want to stay in control. We want to oversee the operation. Evening prayer is a deliberate act of spirit that cultivates willingly what our bodies force on us finally.  Psalm 4 is an evening prayer. It has taught me to process the events of the day in light God's action and to offer my involvement as a sacrifice for him to transform. It does not ignore the day's frustrations, but places its peace in the trust of our Lord.

Eugene Peterson's book Answering God: The Psalms as Tools for Prayer contains a chapter on this psalm and its companion morning prayer, Psalm 5. (Quotes from this chapter are in italics.) I read it while visiting Victoria, British Columbia early this summer, sitting on a grassy bluff overlooking the ocean. It left such an impact that over the rest of the summer, I read it aloud to three separate friends. I had opportunities to turn that psalm into prayer at the close of many confounding days.  During the summer, I was also at work on a series of abstract photographs, taken on that same trip. The images were multiple exposure photographs, carefully selected for their continuity in colour and edited to maintain a consistency in texture and tone. I struggled to find a unifying narrative for this sequence, until realizing their parallel with this psalm.

The images prominently feature a passionate orange (like the ambitious discontent of my heart),  in contrast with a cool, collected solidity of blues, greens, and granite (like the overarching presence of God.) Psalm 4 acknowledges both of these characteristics, teaching the first to know its place in the second. This evening prayer is a symmetrical beauty, arranging two sets of contrasts on either side of a centre that uses six verbs to restore the rhythms of grace in us. 

The psalm and the sequence opens with a clamorous beginning, much like my heart upon entering prayer. The image - a confused flurry of fiery grass and grey sea rock - is a violent discord of both the orange and the grey themes. Similarly, the psalm's opening paragraph is a confusion of David's feelings over both his emotions and his knowledge of his Lord. In contrast, the final image - a bleached arbutus log caught in the rock of an ocean cliff - reflects the quiet conclusion of the psalm's final paragraph. The photo captures the peace, security, and steadfastness of that ending verse, like the flexible driftwood resting in the permanence of the rock. 

Next we have our first contrast (Image 2), between those who pursue futility and those who realize providence. Some people...fill the day with a desperate and anxious grasp for that which is not. Others discover God's providential motions in themselves and others. This image is chaotic, reflecting the vanity of those described in the verse. But nestled amongst the solid rock is a bright orange leaf, like the psalm's imagery of "the LORD setting apart the godly for himself."

The second contrast (Image 6), is between those who are perpetually asking God for what they do not have and those who are overwhelmed before God with what he has already given. The image, in continuity with Image 2, also contains bright orange contrasted by its surroundings. But this photo - an arbutus tree growing of a mossy rock - includes both the sense of urgency of the verse, along with its upward focused joy. 

Then we arrive at the centre of the psalm and my sequence. Six paired verbs move us from self-assertion in which we push our vain wills on the people and circumstances around us - acting as if we are in charge of the universe - to a believing obedience that acts as if God is in charge and that submits to becoming the kind of person that God is in charge of. Here I offer three images, one for each pair of verbs. Two contain the calm colour theme and the centre image describes this theme's intersection with the orange. 

The first - gnarly, spiked trees on a solid bank - reflects both the honest frustration we are told to express over the imperfections of our day, and also the boundaries that are to be placed on our anger. The second image - sunset-lit grasses like wildfire amongstdark, rocky hills - is a picture of the volatile self finding his proper place in silence, recognizing the person that God is gathering into salvation. The third - a bird-like kite dancing against soft clouds and a bank of grasses - is like the sacrifice of our days, offered to God to do with what he will. Christ's forgiveness will transform them. The Spirit's sanctification will redeem these offerings. You have had all day, now let God have all night. A sinful life is offered up, a holy life is received back. 

For years, my photography style has been driven by clean, carefully composed images. I see my craft as catching glimpses of the designs that the Great Artist has placed all around us. But recently, as I've found myself drawn more and more to the multiple exposure technique, I've struggled to reconcile its chaotic nature with the clarity of the gospel. By working through this project, I've recognized that this abstract style captures the tension of a life lived between the reality of the gospel and the confusion of our hearts, a tension that the Psalms acknowledges so well.

You can download a PDF of the complete sequence here.

Reflections on Psalm 27

"If our greatest treasure – communion with the living God – is safe, of what can we be afraid? Yet we are afraid of so many things. So our fears can serve an important purpose – they show us where we have really located our heart's treasure."

~Tim Keller.

The LORD is my light and my salvation;

whom shall I fear?

The LORD is the stronghold of my life;

of whom shall I be afraid?

These opening lines are verses of great comfort. I settle into them as one settles into a secure safety, for I fear many things and my life contains few strongholds. Everywhere I look, I see failure; my work, my education, my independence, my finances, and my relationships all point their fingers and accuse me. In these opening phrases, the author of the psalm, David, is pushed beyond his fears, anchored in something greater and higher than himself. David’s next lines introduce a military language and confidence.

When evildoers assail me

to eat up my flesh,

my adversaries and foes,

it is they who stumble and fall.

Though an army encamp against me,

my heart shall not fear;

though war arise against me,

yet I will be confident.

Despite my disappointments and despite the odds against me, I don’t need to worry. I can have confidence. But my temptation here is to simply assume that, with God on my side, the success I seek is attainable. The psalmist is clearly seeking something too. His desire and his heart are set.

One thing have I asked of the LORD,

that will I seek after:

What do I seek after? What is the one thing I ask of the Lord more than any other? If you ask me right now, and I were being completely honest, I would instinctively answer, “success in a growing relationship” or “success in my career ambitions.” But David’s one request is far more specific:

that I may dwell in the house of the LORD

all the days of my life,

to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD

and to inquire in his temple.

How much simpler, how much higher than desire for mere achievement! The military context he gave us earlier seems to just be the means of securing a greater purpose: to dwell in the house of the Lord, to gaze upon his beauty, and to inquire of him. My petty desires for achievement or companionship fall away when I compare them to this higher purpose. “David finds God beautiful, not just useful for attaining goods” says Tim Keller. “To send God’s beauty in the heart is to have such pleasure in him that your rest content.”

With this desire now laid bear, our understanding of the psalm has been focused and refined. When the beauty of the Lord is in David’s vision, of course God will

hide me in his shelter

in the day of trouble;

he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;

he will lift me high upon my rock.

If his face as our focus, what are days of trouble? We shall be hid in his shelter, with his strength as our song, and his beauty our joy.

And now my head shall be lifted up

above my enemies all around me,

and I will offer in his tent

sacrifices with shouts of joy;

I will sing and make melody to the LORD.

With the Lord’s beauty in our gaze, our heads are lifted up despite the calamities surrounding us. With his salvation as our dwelling place, the shifting tides of circumstances matter far less.

It’s deceptively simple. Have your heart filled with the beauty of the Lord, and all will be well. But is this house-of-the-Lord-dwelling goal easy to maintain? The next stanza tells us that it is far from a easy task.

Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud;

be gracious to me and answer me!

You have said, “Seek my face.”

My heart says to you

“Your face, LORD, do I seek.”

Hide not your face from me

Turn not your servant away in anger,

O you you have been my help.

Cast me not off; forsake me not,

O God of my salvation!

For my father and my mother have forsaken me,

but the LORD will take me in.

If I were to summarize this psalm in one verse, it would be verse 8: You have said, “Seek my face.” My heart says to you “Your face, LORD, do I seek.” Such seeking requires great struggle. Notice how David is crying for a gracious answer. The beauty of the Lord seems hidden, turned away in anger. He longs not to be cast off or forsaken in the same way he has been by the people in whom he most relies. Yet in the end there is a simple trust exhibited: but the Lord will take me in.

Teach me your way, O LORD,

and lead me on a level path

because of my enemies.

Give me up not to the will of my advisories

for fans witness have risen against me,

and they breathe out violence.

If the path is such a struggle, as we saw in the last stanza, who will guide us? Here we see that we need to be taught to seek the Lord’s face, that this is an art requiring a faithful teacher. It is a path and he must be led down it. The perils surrounding it are very real and, as he acknowledges them, David places himself in the care of his teacher.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD

in the land of the living!

Wait for the Lord;

be strong, let your heart take courage;

wait for the LORD!

In the end of this explosive, emotional psalm, we are left with a sense of great expectancy and simple faith. Evident is David’s belief that his desire to gaze on the goodness of the Lord will find its fulfilment. David’s role, ultimately, is one of active passivity. He counsels his heart to wait, to take courage, and then he repeats it: wait for the Lord! Rely on him, son, and not on yourself. Wait for him, and he will redeem you.