Hebrews 12:18-24
“Wide, Bright, Awake, and Hopeful”
13th Sunday After Pentecost (Year C - Lutheran Service Book readings)
Saturday, August 21, and Sunday, August 22, 2010
The mother was talking, but my eyes were fixed on the teenage girl’s eyes.
The mother was telling me that she wanted her daughter in the church because she wanted her daughter to know what it means to honor her parents. The mother was saying that she wanted me to teach her daughter the Ten Commandments, that’s why they had come to see me.
The mother was talking, but my eyes were fixed on the teenager’s eyes.
Her eyes were saying more than the mother could hear. Her eyes were saying, “Please don’t just tell me to honor my mother.” Her eyes were wide and narrow at the same time, bright and dim, awake and tired, hopeful and broken. She was telling me with those eyes that there was more to the story than her mother was saying. She was asking me with those eyes if there was more to the story with God. She wanted to believe that somehow there’d be love with God, but all she could hear from her mother was how God would tell her what’s what, tell her how she was wrong, tell her how to shape up. All of that kind of talk made those eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken.
Yet, as her mother kept talking about the importance of children respecting their parents and how much trouble her daughter had caused, as her mother kept talking as if I was going to simply repeat everything she was saying, as her mother kept up her way of using God as if He was just the man of the house who would make everyone obey, as the mother kept talking, the daughter’s eyes were pleading with me, pleading really with God, pleading for something more, something beyond this routine of punishment and yelling and crushing and defeat, her eyes were pleading for love and forgiveness, her eyes were pleading to be wide, bright, awake, and hopeful.
You have not come to something that will make your eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken. As the writer to the Hebrews says, you have not come to darkness, gloom, and storm. You have not come to God’s mountain of smoke and fire, of Law and judgment, of impending doom.
No, you have come to something which makes your eyes wide, bright, awake, and hopeful. You have come to Mount Zion, you have come to Jesus as the King of Kings, sitting on His throne full of grace and truth and mercy and love. You have come to Jesus who is the author of a new covenant, a new promise from God, a promise to make you righteous in His sight. You have come to Jesus who died for your sins on the cross, who rose from the dead to conquer death once and for all. You have come to this Gospel, this Good News, this tremendous news. You have come to news that is wide, bright, awake, and hopeful.
The writer of the letter to the Hebrews is emphasizing this, this contrast between Mount Sinai where Moses received the Law and Mount Zion, the heavenly city of Jesus, the writer is emphasizing this contrast, because apparently the readers were caught up in a way of approaching God that was leaving them narrow, dim, tired, and broken. The readers, Jewish Christians, were still caught up in thinking that the way to God was through the Law, the way to approach God was through Mount Sinai, the Ten Commandments, the laws of God, and that by fulfilling all of the laws, they could possibly hope to approach God in confidence.
But that understanding of God is narrow, dim, tired, and broken. It leaves them without much confidence at all, because who truly could follow all of the laws? Who could be confident in their own actions as being good enough to approach the holy God? Who could stand in the sight of God whose very presence caused Mount Sinai to smoke with fire, whose presence caused the mountain to be filled with darkness, gloom, and storm, whose presence caused even the animals that touched the mountain to be destined for death?
Perhaps approaching the Lord through the Law seemed like the right answer since it clearly lays out what one must do. It looks like a way to make progress, the steps to be taken in order to approach God. And perhaps that’s why we’re even tempted by this same thing, tempted because it just seems easier if God would tell us what to do, the steps to take in order to be acceptable in His sight.
You know, it’s like a self-help program: What are the steps to knowing God? It’s like the headline on a magazine: “10 Steps to Improving Your Spiritual Life.” We’d like it to be that simple. We’d like to know the rules. We’d like to think we could follow those steps. We’d like to think that we could make that kind of progress.
And maybe that’s what these readers were thinking, too, the ones who read the letter to the Hebrews, these Jewish Christians were just thinking that if they followed the Law of God, that if they took the right steps, then they’d be in God’s good graces.
But the writer doesn’t leave any room for this kind of thinking. No, the writer is clear: This mountain, Mount Sinai, the mountain of the Law of God is filled with smoke and fire, darkness, gloom, and storm. You cannot possibly hope to find life and salvation through the Law. It will make your eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken. You will not have any confidence before God, because you cannot possibly believe that you will follow the Law to God’s satisfaction. Inside, you will always have a nagging doubt, a terror at knowing that your actions aren’t good enough. Inside, you will always be struck down by that terrible mountain, struck down dead in your sin. Narrow, dim, tired, and broken. And dead.
But you have not come to that mountain, you have not come to something that makes you narrow, dim, tired, and broken. You have not come to God only through His Law. You have not been left at the foot of Mount Sinai struck down in your sins, you have not been left there to die.
You have come to something that makes you wide, bright, awake, and hopeful. You have come to the mountain of Christ, Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to the Gospel, the Good News, the forgiveness of your sins and the promise of eternal life. You have come to that which saves you from being struck down dead forever. You have come to the Savior, the Son of God, the One who revives your spirit, the One who makes you righteous in God’s sight, the One whose blood covers your sins, the One who died for your sins, the One who gives you new life according to His grace and mercy, as an undeserved gift.
You have come to God through Jesus and what He has done. You have not come to God to only find Him full of fury and fire. You have come to God and found that there is the hope of eternity, the hope of living in the heavenly city, of living in the forever city with Christ, of being righteous and holy in God’s sight, of rejoicing with the angels, of having your name written in heaven, of having a sure and certain hope in Christ, of knowing that it all depends on Him. Your life and salvation depend only on what Christ has done.
Apparently those Jewish Christians who first read this letter needed to hear this, and apparently, we still need to hear it today. God has preserved His Word, this Word in this letter, preserved it to come to us today, because we still need this Word, still need this reminder, still need this message of hope.
Because even though we’ve heard that we’re saved by the Gospel, saved by Christ and not by works, even though we know this, we’re still tempted to think that we could do this salvation thing by ourselves; that if we just follow enough of His rules then we’ll be alright; that if we’re just a good person, then we’ll go to heaven.
Doesn’t that have a way of creeping into our thinking? We help a neighbor, because that’s a good thing to do, that’s what we’re supposed to do, that’s how we make sure God is happy with us. We try to do a few good deeds a day, because then we’re on God’s good side. Doesn’t that kind of thing have a way of sneaking into our thinking?
But if we’re really honest, if we really search our hearts, this way of thinking also leave us scared, unsure, wondering what God is thinking about us, wondering if God’ll be disappointed in us, wondering if we’ve done enough. If we’re really honest, doesn’t this kind of thinking make our eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken?
When I meet people who want to find out about God, I watch their eyes. They may have heard that God just makes a big list of rules, that God will make their lives narrow, dim, tired, and broken.
But if you watch their eyes, people are pleading for God to make them wide, bright, awake, and hopeful.
When you look at yourself in the mirror, when you think about your own spiritual life, watch your eyes. If you’re thinking that you have to approach God through all of the things you do, your eyes are bound to be narrow, dim, tired, and broken.
But you have not come to something that makes your eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken. You have not come to a mountain of darkness, gloom, and storm.
You have come to Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the eternal city of Christ. You have come to the Gospel. You have come to forgiveness through the cross of Christ. You have come to eternal life as a gift of God. You have come to something that makes your eyes wide, bright, awake, and hopeful.
The teenage girl’s eyes were pleading for God to be someone who would make her eyes wide, bright, awake, and hopeful. Everything she heard from her mom was making her eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken. What the girl wanted was Mount Zion, but what she was hearing was Mount Sinai. She wanted to know about salvation in Jesus, but what she was hearing was the Ten Commandments.
After listening to her mom for awhile, I interrupted and explained that being confirmed, being a part of the Church, wasn’t just about following the Ten Commandments. In fact, as much as the Ten Commandments end up guiding our lives, first they just show us that we’re sinful—we’re all sinful. None of us truly can follow all of the commandments of God. We disappoint Him all of the time. All of us disappoint God.
The teenage girl nodded with her narrow, dim, tired, and broken eyes. The mother stared, not wanting to show that this news made her eyes narrow, dim, tired, and broken, not wanting to agree that she somehow also wasn’t living up to God’s standards. Instead of admitting this, she shifted uncomfortably and tapped her daughter on the arm, saying, “See, we don’t follow God’s rules,” when really she was saying, “See, you don’t follow God’s rules.”
While the mother stayed there in that thought, unable to see her own sin, I continued the story for the sake of the teenage girl. I talked about how Jesus came to save us from our sin. He died on the cross to pay for our crimes. He rose again to conquer death so we can live again. Being a Christian isn’t about following rules; being a Christian means believing that Jesus has done everything to save us. Being a Christian means doing things out of love for God—not because we have to, not because we’re trying to make ourselves look good—but doing things as a response of love. Being a Christian means knowing that Jesus loves us, forgives us, and gives us eternal life.
The teenage girl’s eyes got wide, bright, awake, and hopeful after hearing this. They glowed—just for a moment. When she looked back at her mother, the girl’s eyes closed down again. It was hard for her to believe what I was saying; her mother had painted a very different picture of God. But when the girl looked at me, when I talked about the love of Jesus, there was that flicker—wide, bright, awake, and hopeful. And that’s what I tried to keep pointing to every time I talked with that girl.
Unfortunately, the girl and her mother drifted away from the congregation just about as quickly as they showed up. The daughter still was a challenge in many ways, and I think the mother blamed the church for not “straightening her out.”
Despite that, though, I reached out one more time when the girl was graduating from high school, dropped off a graduation present from the church, a Christian CD with a note that once again pointed to the hope we have in Jesus, because no matter what else was going on in that girl’s life, I was still praying that she’d hear the truth—the truth that God comes with Good News of forgiveness and love. I wanted her to know that she had not come to a mountain of darkness, gloom, and storm. Through Christ, she had come to a mountain of forgiveness, life, and salvation.
I pray for that girl’s eyes. I pray that they aren’t narrow, dim, tired, and broken anymore. I pray that through Christ her eyes are wide, bright, awake, and hopeful.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Psalm 142 - "That Needing Time"
Psalm 142
“That Needing Time”
Saturday, August 14, and Sunday, August 15, 2010
At the exact time you met as a congregation to vote to call me as your pastor, I was driving down Interstate 55, approaching St. Louis, as I headed to campus for classes at the Seminary. I was praying for you, but to be honest, I was also trying not to be anxious about what y’all might decide. I sensed that God could be leading me to Bethel, but I didn’t want to get ahead of the game. So I threw another CD in the stereo and kept driving.
The CD I threw in was a blues disc by Les Copeland, something I was checking out for the first time. And the first track, the track that came on exactly at the hour of your meeting, is called “That Needing Time.” It’s a blues song, for sure, but the words work like words from Jesus, inviting us to come to Him when we’re in that needing time, when we’re in that moment of trouble or anxiety, that time when we need His guidance and direction and help, and as I realized what was going on in that song, I realized that perhaps God had put a prayer on my lips as I began to sing along with the chorus:
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
I was in that needing time; I needed a call; I needed to know where God was going to lead me to serve Him as a pastor. And you were in that needing time; you needed a pastor; you needed to know where God was going to lead you to serve Him as a congregation.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
When I was singing those words, I was in that needing time and you were in that needing time. I was thinking about how these words sound like the words of Jesus. He is the good, strong-hearted friend that we need. He will be our boy, our servant, the One to come and help us when times get troubled. We can call on Him when that needing time sets in.
And so that night, the night of the call meeting at Bethel Lutheran Church, you called on Jesus and I was calling on Jesus. We were both in that needing time, and Jesus was the good, strong-hearted friend, the servant who came to lead us and guide us to this day.
Now Les Copeland’s song and all of his music aren’t necessarily Christian, but you’ll soon figure out about me that I’m always looking for ways to connect Jesus with the culture around us—whether it’s in music or books or movies or TV shows or advertising or in what people are saying. I’m always looking for ways that Jesus connects with where people are, how Jesus can answer their questions. I don’t know if Les Copeland meant for his song to be the words of Jesus, but it sure sounds like it to me, sounds like a place to start the conversation about how Jesus invites us to pray and hears our prayers and is our strong-hearted friend.
In fact, Les Copeland’s blues song sounds a lot like a psalm from the Old Testament. The song lists all of these ways that we might be in trouble and might be in need of a good friend, a true friend. And that’s what a lot of the psalms do. They talk about troubles in our lives and center our hope on a good, strong-hearted friend, center our hope on God, on His strength, on His help in that needing time.
So today we hear that needing time in the words of Psalm 142, words written by King David nearly 1000 years before Jesus. David apparently wrote these words from a cave after being chased by King Saul. Saul wanted to kill David, and David fled and hid in a cave. Eventually 400 men gathered there around David, but this psalm sounds a lot like he wrote it before those 400 men showed up, before the reinforcements got there. It sounds like a psalm written when David was alone—really alone—in that needing time.
I’m going to read the psalm again, and you might listen or follow along in your bulletin. But as you listen to the psalm again, hear it as a blues song, a cry, a prayer sent up against the troubles. Listen for the hope. Listen for how David still jumps for joy even though he’s all alone, confused, scared, threatened, and having trouble seeing how God’s going to get him out of this.
1 I cry aloud to the LORD;
I lift up my voice to the LORD for mercy.
2 I pour out my complaint before him;
before him I tell my trouble.
3 When my spirit grows faint within me,
it is you who know my way.
In the path where I walk
men have hidden a snare for me.
4 Look to my right and see;
no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;
no one cares for my life.
5 I cry to you, O LORD;
I say, "You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living."
6 Listen to my cry,
for I am in desperate need;
rescue me from those who pursue me,
for they are too strong for me.
7 Set me free from my prison,
that I may praise your name.
Then the righteous will gather about me
because of your goodness to me.
“Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need.” Listen to my cry, for I am in that needing time. Listen to my cry, and I will jump for joy. You will set me free. You will be a good, strong-hearted friend. You will be my refuge, my protection. You will hear my cry, for I am in that needing time.
This psalm takes God up on His invitation for us to pray. It goes to God in that needing time and jumps for joy that God will hear our prayers and answer them with His grace, love, forgiveness, and mercy.
Now I just got here. Been in the office just a week, so I won’t even pretend to know all of the ways that you are in trouble in your lives. (I don’t know all of your stories—I don’t even know all of your names, but I’m going to be working on that.) I don’t know where you’ve been and where you’re headed, but I’m going to take a guess that some of you are in that needing time. Some of you are crying out to God because you are in need—you’re sick or you’re hurting or you’re out of work or you’re anxious or you’re lonely or you’re angry or you’re so broken down that it seems like you’ll never be right again.
Maybe you’re in that needing time not so much because of what’s happening to you but because of what’s happening to someone in your life. You’re in that needing time because a loved one is troubled or hurt or broken or dying. I’ve only been here a week, but I’m going to guess that some of you are in that needing time. In fact, I’ll guess that you all know what it means to be in that needing time, to be in that time when you’re feeling alone in a cave with the world out to get you and you’re crying out to God and waiting to see how He could possibly answer your cry.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy, you may have hope, you may have a hope that seems to come out of nowhere because it does, you may have a feeling of peace and confidence that has nothing to do with your circumstances because it only has to do with that good, strong-hearted friend Jesus who is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, Jesus is your boy, your servant, the One who understands that needing time because he was left alone that night He was arrested, He was in that needing time when He went to the cross and died for your sins. When that needing time sets in, Jesus is the One who hears your prayers and takes them to God the Father. When that needing time sets in, you can tell Jesus everything that is on your mind. You can call on Him and He will hear your cry.
Jesus hears your cry for relief. Jesus hears your cry for peace. Jesus hears your cry and while it may not seem like anything in your life is really getting better, while it may seem like that needing time just stays with you for days on end, while it may not ease these momentary troubles, still I want you to know that Jesus hears your cries. He is your good, strong-hearted friend. He has done something ultimate to resolve these troubles. His death on the cross ultimately resolves these troubles, because through the cross, through the forgiveness won for us, through what He has done, He will truly set us free from this prison, He will set us free and give us eternal life. This is our future hope that is present with us every day. This is our future hope that is present with us every day.
In fact, if we assume that David wrote Psalm 142 while he was alone in that cave, before the reinforcements showed up, if we assume that David wrote Psalm 142 as a prayer while he was still deep in that needing time, deep in the darkness, then it helps us to see the nature of faith. Because David prays for relief but also trusts that the relief is going to come, that God is going to rescue him, that God will not abandon him. That’s the nature of true faith—it believes in the promise even if that promise is far from being seen. It trusts that God will rescue us even if there’s no sign of that rescue. Which is why we can sing with Les Copeland: “When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.” We may jump for joy even when we can’t see much joy in our lives. We can jump for joy because it’s true, it’s true, Jesus will rescue us from these momentary troubles and take us to be with Him forever. This is our future hope that is present with us every day.
And meanwhile, meanwhile in that needing time, in the troubles that are still very much with us, meanwhile, Jesus invites us to pray.
I cannot tell you how much it pleased me to hear that you had a prayer vigil and a time of fasting before the call meeting in June. To know that the whole call process was bathed in prayer made my heart rejoice. Jesus has invited us to call on Him in prayer in that needing time, and that’s what you did. It was a great witness to me about the importance of prayer.
And it was amazing how God got me praying through that Les Copeland song, making sure I wasn’t just distracting myself with some music during a stressful, needful hour, but I was actually turning to Him and asking Him to be with you in that needing time. God invites us to pray, and sometimes it takes reminders to get us to the conversation.
Seeing that I have an earring, someone during the call interview asked the next, most natural question: do you have any tattoos? And I don’t. But I also know exactly what I’d get if I ever do get a tattoo. I will get a tattoo on my wrist that says “You may pray.” A reminder that’s there with me every day, a reminder of God’s invitation to pray. You may pray.
Not a command: “Pray.” Not something I could do: “You can pray.” Instead, it’s an invitation, an open-door policy: “You may pray.”
Because there will be times as your pastor when I feel alone—in that needing time, Jesus invites me to come to Him in prayer. I may pray. I may come to Him when I am alone in some kind of cave and waiting for the reinforcements and wondering what God is going to do to rescue me. I may come to Him in prayer, because He’s my good, strong-hearted friend. “You may pray.”
And you may pray. There will be times as people of Bethel Lutheran, as leaders in the congregation, as servants in this place, when you feel alone. You will feel alone in what you’re called to do, what God has set up in advance for you to do, the ways that you can serve Him. You’ll feel alone and in that needing time, Jesus invites you to come to Him in prayer. In that needing time, “you may pray.” He will hear your prayers, He will hear your blues songs, He will come and lift your spirits so that you will not lose hope in the midst of all your troubles. He will be your good, strong-hearted friend. You may pray.
And you know, that’s an invitation we can offer people today at Gurnee Days. You may pray. Helping people see that Jesus invites them to call on Him, tell Him their troubles. Gurnee Days can be about connecting with people who are in that needing time, who are troubled, who don’t have direction, who need peace.
That’s my prayer, that people at Gurnee Days will hear this invitation from Jesus, this invitation to come to Him in that needing time. I want them to know that they may pray. I want them to hear the same invitation we hear, this invitation from Jesus:
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
Review of Les Copeland's Don't Let the Devil In
Originally written on June 7, 2010
At a particularly important hour for personal prayer, I happened to be listening to Les Copeland’s “That Needing Time” from his Don’t Let the Devil In. It’s a blues album for fans of Michael Powers, David Jacob-Strain, Martin Simpson, and Kelly Joe Phelps, and “That Needing Time” is the best Gospel blues I’ve heard since Phelps’ Roll Away the Stone.
I was certainly in “that needing time” when the song came on the stereo as I was driving. The people I was thinking about were in “that needing time,” too. And the song are the words of Christ who invites us to tell Him “when that needing time sets in.” A whole range of things could be happening to us, and Jesus invites us to share it all with Him.
It’s an invitation I’ve heard through the words of the Bible, but in that moment when the needing time was really setting in for me, I thank God that He sent Les Copeland to remind me again that I may pray, I may bring my burdens to Jesus, I may trust that He takes my prayers seriously, I may know that He hears my cries.
Don’t Let the Devil In rings with the cries of life in the way that only the blues can. “What’s Your Name” delves into the swamp of recognizing that you no longer recognize yourself because of the hurts you have caused (“What’s the name of the man in the mirror?”). On “How’s That Drummer,” Copeland recounts his own pain, albeit with some humor, of losing his wife to his former drummer.
Copeland plays a mean slide guitar as on the instrumental track “Ry Cooder,” that despite its dedication to Cooder makes me think of Phelps. Tracks like “Distant Train” recall the way Bo Ramsey adds ornamentation to Greg Brown’s deep-down bluesy folk.
The album’s title track ring with an appropriately foreboding country blues, like a good sermon that provides plenty of warning against the wiles of the devil, Michael Frank’s harmonica like a piece of spiritual armor defending the soul with its cries. Only Jesus has gone up against the devil and won, and you’re gonna want Jesus on your side after hearing how the scene that Copeland causes you to experience. It’s that needing time, and Jesus promises to be there.
Les Copeland
Earwig Music
“That Needing Time”
Saturday, August 14, and Sunday, August 15, 2010
At the exact time you met as a congregation to vote to call me as your pastor, I was driving down Interstate 55, approaching St. Louis, as I headed to campus for classes at the Seminary. I was praying for you, but to be honest, I was also trying not to be anxious about what y’all might decide. I sensed that God could be leading me to Bethel, but I didn’t want to get ahead of the game. So I threw another CD in the stereo and kept driving.
The CD I threw in was a blues disc by Les Copeland, something I was checking out for the first time. And the first track, the track that came on exactly at the hour of your meeting, is called “That Needing Time.” It’s a blues song, for sure, but the words work like words from Jesus, inviting us to come to Him when we’re in that needing time, when we’re in that moment of trouble or anxiety, that time when we need His guidance and direction and help, and as I realized what was going on in that song, I realized that perhaps God had put a prayer on my lips as I began to sing along with the chorus:
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
I was in that needing time; I needed a call; I needed to know where God was going to lead me to serve Him as a pastor. And you were in that needing time; you needed a pastor; you needed to know where God was going to lead you to serve Him as a congregation.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
When I was singing those words, I was in that needing time and you were in that needing time. I was thinking about how these words sound like the words of Jesus. He is the good, strong-hearted friend that we need. He will be our boy, our servant, the One to come and help us when times get troubled. We can call on Him when that needing time sets in.
And so that night, the night of the call meeting at Bethel Lutheran Church, you called on Jesus and I was calling on Jesus. We were both in that needing time, and Jesus was the good, strong-hearted friend, the servant who came to lead us and guide us to this day.
Now Les Copeland’s song and all of his music aren’t necessarily Christian, but you’ll soon figure out about me that I’m always looking for ways to connect Jesus with the culture around us—whether it’s in music or books or movies or TV shows or advertising or in what people are saying. I’m always looking for ways that Jesus connects with where people are, how Jesus can answer their questions. I don’t know if Les Copeland meant for his song to be the words of Jesus, but it sure sounds like it to me, sounds like a place to start the conversation about how Jesus invites us to pray and hears our prayers and is our strong-hearted friend.
In fact, Les Copeland’s blues song sounds a lot like a psalm from the Old Testament. The song lists all of these ways that we might be in trouble and might be in need of a good friend, a true friend. And that’s what a lot of the psalms do. They talk about troubles in our lives and center our hope on a good, strong-hearted friend, center our hope on God, on His strength, on His help in that needing time.
So today we hear that needing time in the words of Psalm 142, words written by King David nearly 1000 years before Jesus. David apparently wrote these words from a cave after being chased by King Saul. Saul wanted to kill David, and David fled and hid in a cave. Eventually 400 men gathered there around David, but this psalm sounds a lot like he wrote it before those 400 men showed up, before the reinforcements got there. It sounds like a psalm written when David was alone—really alone—in that needing time.
I’m going to read the psalm again, and you might listen or follow along in your bulletin. But as you listen to the psalm again, hear it as a blues song, a cry, a prayer sent up against the troubles. Listen for the hope. Listen for how David still jumps for joy even though he’s all alone, confused, scared, threatened, and having trouble seeing how God’s going to get him out of this.
1 I cry aloud to the LORD;
I lift up my voice to the LORD for mercy.
2 I pour out my complaint before him;
before him I tell my trouble.
3 When my spirit grows faint within me,
it is you who know my way.
In the path where I walk
men have hidden a snare for me.
4 Look to my right and see;
no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;
no one cares for my life.
5 I cry to you, O LORD;
I say, "You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living."
6 Listen to my cry,
for I am in desperate need;
rescue me from those who pursue me,
for they are too strong for me.
7 Set me free from my prison,
that I may praise your name.
Then the righteous will gather about me
because of your goodness to me.
“Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need.” Listen to my cry, for I am in that needing time. Listen to my cry, and I will jump for joy. You will set me free. You will be a good, strong-hearted friend. You will be my refuge, my protection. You will hear my cry, for I am in that needing time.
This psalm takes God up on His invitation for us to pray. It goes to God in that needing time and jumps for joy that God will hear our prayers and answer them with His grace, love, forgiveness, and mercy.
Now I just got here. Been in the office just a week, so I won’t even pretend to know all of the ways that you are in trouble in your lives. (I don’t know all of your stories—I don’t even know all of your names, but I’m going to be working on that.) I don’t know where you’ve been and where you’re headed, but I’m going to take a guess that some of you are in that needing time. Some of you are crying out to God because you are in need—you’re sick or you’re hurting or you’re out of work or you’re anxious or you’re lonely or you’re angry or you’re so broken down that it seems like you’ll never be right again.
Maybe you’re in that needing time not so much because of what’s happening to you but because of what’s happening to someone in your life. You’re in that needing time because a loved one is troubled or hurt or broken or dying. I’ve only been here a week, but I’m going to guess that some of you are in that needing time. In fact, I’ll guess that you all know what it means to be in that needing time, to be in that time when you’re feeling alone in a cave with the world out to get you and you’re crying out to God and waiting to see how He could possibly answer your cry.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy, you may have hope, you may have a hope that seems to come out of nowhere because it does, you may have a feeling of peace and confidence that has nothing to do with your circumstances because it only has to do with that good, strong-hearted friend Jesus who is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, Jesus is your boy, your servant, the One who understands that needing time because he was left alone that night He was arrested, He was in that needing time when He went to the cross and died for your sins. When that needing time sets in, Jesus is the One who hears your prayers and takes them to God the Father. When that needing time sets in, you can tell Jesus everything that is on your mind. You can call on Him and He will hear your cry.
Jesus hears your cry for relief. Jesus hears your cry for peace. Jesus hears your cry and while it may not seem like anything in your life is really getting better, while it may seem like that needing time just stays with you for days on end, while it may not ease these momentary troubles, still I want you to know that Jesus hears your cries. He is your good, strong-hearted friend. He has done something ultimate to resolve these troubles. His death on the cross ultimately resolves these troubles, because through the cross, through the forgiveness won for us, through what He has done, He will truly set us free from this prison, He will set us free and give us eternal life. This is our future hope that is present with us every day. This is our future hope that is present with us every day.
In fact, if we assume that David wrote Psalm 142 while he was alone in that cave, before the reinforcements showed up, if we assume that David wrote Psalm 142 as a prayer while he was still deep in that needing time, deep in the darkness, then it helps us to see the nature of faith. Because David prays for relief but also trusts that the relief is going to come, that God is going to rescue him, that God will not abandon him. That’s the nature of true faith—it believes in the promise even if that promise is far from being seen. It trusts that God will rescue us even if there’s no sign of that rescue. Which is why we can sing with Les Copeland: “When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.” We may jump for joy even when we can’t see much joy in our lives. We can jump for joy because it’s true, it’s true, Jesus will rescue us from these momentary troubles and take us to be with Him forever. This is our future hope that is present with us every day.
And meanwhile, meanwhile in that needing time, in the troubles that are still very much with us, meanwhile, Jesus invites us to pray.
I cannot tell you how much it pleased me to hear that you had a prayer vigil and a time of fasting before the call meeting in June. To know that the whole call process was bathed in prayer made my heart rejoice. Jesus has invited us to call on Him in prayer in that needing time, and that’s what you did. It was a great witness to me about the importance of prayer.
And it was amazing how God got me praying through that Les Copeland song, making sure I wasn’t just distracting myself with some music during a stressful, needful hour, but I was actually turning to Him and asking Him to be with you in that needing time. God invites us to pray, and sometimes it takes reminders to get us to the conversation.
Seeing that I have an earring, someone during the call interview asked the next, most natural question: do you have any tattoos? And I don’t. But I also know exactly what I’d get if I ever do get a tattoo. I will get a tattoo on my wrist that says “You may pray.” A reminder that’s there with me every day, a reminder of God’s invitation to pray. You may pray.
Not a command: “Pray.” Not something I could do: “You can pray.” Instead, it’s an invitation, an open-door policy: “You may pray.”
Because there will be times as your pastor when I feel alone—in that needing time, Jesus invites me to come to Him in prayer. I may pray. I may come to Him when I am alone in some kind of cave and waiting for the reinforcements and wondering what God is going to do to rescue me. I may come to Him in prayer, because He’s my good, strong-hearted friend. “You may pray.”
And you may pray. There will be times as people of Bethel Lutheran, as leaders in the congregation, as servants in this place, when you feel alone. You will feel alone in what you’re called to do, what God has set up in advance for you to do, the ways that you can serve Him. You’ll feel alone and in that needing time, Jesus invites you to come to Him in prayer. In that needing time, “you may pray.” He will hear your prayers, He will hear your blues songs, He will come and lift your spirits so that you will not lose hope in the midst of all your troubles. He will be your good, strong-hearted friend. You may pray.
And you know, that’s an invitation we can offer people today at Gurnee Days. You may pray. Helping people see that Jesus invites them to call on Him, tell Him their troubles. Gurnee Days can be about connecting with people who are in that needing time, who are troubled, who don’t have direction, who need peace.
That’s my prayer, that people at Gurnee Days will hear this invitation from Jesus, this invitation to come to Him in that needing time. I want them to know that they may pray. I want them to hear the same invitation we hear, this invitation from Jesus:
When that needing time sets in, you may jump for joy.
A good, strong-hearted friend is all you need.
When that needing time sets in, I will be your boy.
You can tell me when that needing time sets in.
Review of Les Copeland's Don't Let the Devil In
Originally written on June 7, 2010
At a particularly important hour for personal prayer, I happened to be listening to Les Copeland’s “That Needing Time” from his Don’t Let the Devil In. It’s a blues album for fans of Michael Powers, David Jacob-Strain, Martin Simpson, and Kelly Joe Phelps, and “That Needing Time” is the best Gospel blues I’ve heard since Phelps’ Roll Away the Stone.
I was certainly in “that needing time” when the song came on the stereo as I was driving. The people I was thinking about were in “that needing time,” too. And the song are the words of Christ who invites us to tell Him “when that needing time sets in.” A whole range of things could be happening to us, and Jesus invites us to share it all with Him.
It’s an invitation I’ve heard through the words of the Bible, but in that moment when the needing time was really setting in for me, I thank God that He sent Les Copeland to remind me again that I may pray, I may bring my burdens to Jesus, I may trust that He takes my prayers seriously, I may know that He hears my cries.
Don’t Let the Devil In rings with the cries of life in the way that only the blues can. “What’s Your Name” delves into the swamp of recognizing that you no longer recognize yourself because of the hurts you have caused (“What’s the name of the man in the mirror?”). On “How’s That Drummer,” Copeland recounts his own pain, albeit with some humor, of losing his wife to his former drummer.
Copeland plays a mean slide guitar as on the instrumental track “Ry Cooder,” that despite its dedication to Cooder makes me think of Phelps. Tracks like “Distant Train” recall the way Bo Ramsey adds ornamentation to Greg Brown’s deep-down bluesy folk.
The album’s title track ring with an appropriately foreboding country blues, like a good sermon that provides plenty of warning against the wiles of the devil, Michael Frank’s harmonica like a piece of spiritual armor defending the soul with its cries. Only Jesus has gone up against the devil and won, and you’re gonna want Jesus on your side after hearing how the scene that Copeland causes you to experience. It’s that needing time, and Jesus promises to be there.
Les Copeland
Earwig Music
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