Psalm 1
Happy are those
who do not follow the advice of the wicked,
or take the path that sinners tread,
or sit in the seat of scoffers;
but their delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law they meditate day and night.
They are like trees
planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.
The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgement,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
for the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
Poem: Temple Garden
Illuminated manuscript,
unnumbered, naming no and yes,
by some anonymous lyricist
who introduces all the rest
with contrast and with chiasm,
two parallel lines that never kiss
but cross and complicate the rhythm
of a temple garden house.
The righteous prosper, trim and trig,
manicured by God’s own hand,
nourished, watered, planted snug
and safe, quite sure they know the plan.
Outside Eden, sour soiled farms
make cultivation toil and pain,
yet still enlightened by the psalms
that penetrate our dusty skin.
How simple seem God’s garden themes
for daily work and sabbath rest;
but underground, deep hidden genes,
our subway roots, in battle dress
keep us alive, write up our files,
assess the truth of war and peace,
press our buttons, tell us tales,
feed our choice of ant or louse.
Meditation:
The Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:8-10, 3:24) is not a flower garden in Kent – it is a temple garden, with sacred trees, flowing water and a gate on the east. The content of the five books of Psalms, parallel to the five books of Moses, celebrates and moves between three temples: the temple of the universe, the temple in Jerusalem, and the temple of the human being – head, heart, body.
While the first psalm contrasts the fate of the righteous and the wicked, the poem ‘Temple Garden’ recognises that we are complex people (signalled by the half-rhymes at the end of each line), with our heritage and past experience like ‘subway roots’: and yet, we are called to choose the good. Taking even a little time during Lent to reflect on these psalms can help us get our heads and hearts in better shape.
Psalm 2
Why do the nations conspire,
and the peoples plot in vain?
The kings of the earth set themselves,
and the rulers take counsel together,
against the Lord and his anointed, saying,
‘Let us burst their bonds asunder,
and cast their cords from us.’
He who sits in the heavens laughs;
the Lord has them in derision.
Then he will speak to them in his wrath,
and terrify them in his fury, saying,
‘I have set my king on Zion, my holy hill.’
I will tell of the decree of the Lord:
He said to me, ‘You are my son;
today I have begotten you.
Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage,
and the ends of the earth your possession.
You shall break them with a rod of iron,
and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.’
Now therefore, O kings, be wise;
be warned, O rulers of the earth.
Serve the Lord with fear,
with trembling kiss his feet,
or he will be angry, and you will perish in the way;
for his wrath is quickly kindled.
Happy are all who take refuge in him.
Poem: Irony Redeemed
You make them look ridiculous,
these tin pot gods, this pompous lot
of presidents. So plant your questions,
smelt, refine your iron work,
but craft it in a human frame,
with hands and feet we recognise,
and Zion somewhere in our hearts.
Meditation:
The Gospels focus on the final period of Jesus’ life, as he travelled to Jerusalem. His life was caught up in the political forces of the day, but it was held more strongly in the saving purpose of God, before whom the world’s leaders, then and now, are cut right down to size. In the Gospels, the personal trumps the political, or maybe redeems it. Peterson says that prayer is political: his chapter on Psalm 2 is called ‘The Unselfing of America’, which for us of course is ‘The Unselfing of Britain’.
We are free to ask questions, as do so many of the Psalms, but God also questions us. The poem, like the psalm, looks forward to a chosen king who will be one of us as well as Lord of this world’s rulers. So, as we journey through Lent with these psalms and poems, may you savour afresh the humanity and love of Jesus; may questions help you grow in faith and understanding; and may Zion, the place of God’s temple and touch, be somewhere in your heart.
For the Sundays in Lent, beginning on Sunday 26th February 2023, there is a short time of silent prayer, in the company of others, centred on the Psalms and the weekly poem from Revd Dr Jock Stein. (10.00 – 10.15am all Sundays in Lent, London Scottish Chapel, St Columba’s, Pont Street)