In Psalm
123, in this Psalm of Ascents, the writer cries out to the Master for grace
because of the excess of contempt they have experienced. If it had a curse to call down on those who
held the writer in contempt it would be an imprecatory psalm, but it’s really
not. It asks for grace from Yahweh
rather than pain on those who hold the writer in contempt. This is a psalm sung on the way up to
Jerusalem to worship, a traveling song where the end of the journey is the
worship of the Great King. On the way,
they sought grace.
When I am
held in contempt, I want to fix it. I
want to explain myself because clearly they don’t understand. Who could understand and hold me in
contempt? Please stop laughing, it feels
like contempt, and you clearly don’t understand. Of course that’s not the problem, at least
not usually. The most common time for me
to experience this is when I’m explaining something absolutely no one cares
about or is interested in. I can’t tell
you how often it happened in sermons. I
get all excited about something and go to explain it to the nearest human
available. Invariably I get these looks,
like my sanity is in question.
The answer
to such a problem is not more explanation.
I’m learning that now, slowly. Instead,
what I need is what the psalmist asked for, grace from Yahweh. I need grace from my Master because I am
focused on myself. I need grace from my
Master because whatever I learned came from Him anyway. I need grace from my Master because I need to
be willing to accept that I will be misunderstood (wasn’t Jesus? Am I not supposed to be walking in His
footsteps? So, get over it!). That willingness to accept being
misunderstood requires a lot of grace, but it requires something else as well.
Part of the
problem I’m trying to fix by over explaining myself is my acceptance by the
other person. I am trying to repair a
breach formed between them and me. The
problem with my solution is that I want to fix the footing of the bridge within
their boundaries, and it’s not mine to fix.
I want some modicum of control over the other persons’ will. That is wrong on a very fundamental
level. That is why I need to go to my
Master. I need an adjustment at a
fundamental level. By focusing back on
my Master several things are fixed at once.
Returning my
focus to my Master builds gratitude into my response to whatever I learn. I don’t take credit for it, but thank my
Master for His revelation. By going back
to my Master, I permit Him to direct when, where, and to whom I share my new understanding. And I accept that He may not permit it. Accepting that this could be just for me is
hard. I feel like the village idiot, the
only one who needs this lesson. I may
not be, but my Master asks me to rely on Him totally, whether I am or am not
the village idiot. I gain the humility necessary
to be the village idiot for my Master’s sake, which is the only way I can have
peace in my life.
I learn, and
I hope to change in response to what I learn.
What I learn today from this Scripture is that when I receive contempt, I
go to my Master, not into combat mode.
This is a spiritual discipline of relinquishment that gives up more of
myself and receives more of my Master.
It helps me fade into the background scenery of the play of life, and
let my Master take the center stage; where He belongs. As John the Baptist said, I must decrease and
He must increase. I think of it as “spiritual
camouflage”. If you know me, you know I like
camouflage.
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