"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.

This post was originally written in January 2014.

My friend posted a video on his blog detailing his plans for 2014. Not New Year’s resolutions, (which he labelled as) “bullshit”, but a list of goals he would like to accomplish. They includes things like finishing his book of modern day fairy tales, increasing his average YouTube vieo view count to 300, and shooting a short film. All of them significant yet all of them achievable. And were he to achieve half of these goals, his year will be more influential then my past three.

The end of a year is a time to take stock of the last one and make plans for the next. My goals are less ambitious then Kyle’s. Over the weekend I made a list of books I would like to read in 2014. And looking back over 2013, certain value statements can be made about how I used my time. For example, I read 39 books (three more then what I read last year, 63 less then 2011), watched 72 movies (31 more movies then books), and posted 188 photos to Instagram (leaving 177 days when I posted nothing).

When I stare at these numbers my year looks pretty useless. To hide my guilt I try to congratulate myself on the difficult course I completed with success, the advancements I achieved in my career, and the new friendships I have formed. But there were friendships left stagment too, time that could have been better spent completing more courses, and money better saved.

Such is time. Regret and loss. Achievement and possibility. I suppose trite lists like the books I have read say little and the lists that I used to keep -highlighting memories savoured and graces given - speak more accurately to time's passing.

Today one of our pastors preached on Matthew 11:25-30. He paused on the opening phrase “At that time, Jesus…” At that time.

The incarnation that we celebrate at Christmas was a space and time event. Again and again in the gospels we are reminded of the particularity of the events they record, events in space and time that reverberate to this day.

So in that context it is interesting to note the last couple verses of that passage. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Our pastor emphasized that this rest is not exactly a rest from our work in this world and our labours against sin, but a rest from our own efforts to achieve salvation.

This salvation is salvation from sin and judgment, but it also includes salvation from our self-worth being bound up in how we spend our time. How fitting it is that we celebrate the space-time event of the the Incarnation (Christmas), which brought about our rest, just before the dawn of a new year.

The rest that has been achieved for us does not mean we rest from our efforts to set goals, to read well, and achieve in 2014 things that give God glory. Yet it does mean that we do all this knowing that our efforts in our space and time are ordained by the same One Who established our salvation in past time and space. And it means that looking back over 2013 we can have peace that what happened happened well. As our pastor said, “Look back on 2013 with rest. Look ahead with rest. Strive to enter this rest and rest in His, our King’s, great work.”