Read: Psalm 141

Give ear to my voice when I call to you. Let my prayer be counted as incense before you.
-Psalm 141:1b, 2a

By now familiar to us, the psalmist is once again praying to be preserved from wickedness. This hits close to home if I am honest; it pains me to admit that I relate to his plea that God place a guard over his mouth. “Keep watch over the door of my lips”, it reads. I am reminded that I can in this way save myself from wickedness. Words can be weapons if we so choose.

The writer implores God to hear his petition, asking that his prayer be “counted as incense”—ephemeral, floaty, sweet-smelling smoke. When I think of incense, I am reminded of the vague, faint aroma that lingers long after the oh-so-slow burning has finished. Is it too much to imagine that our prayers could likewise saturate the very space around God? Just think: our words continue to resonate long after the sound itself has evaporated into silence.

My dear friend Sharon Kohn, a Reformed Jewish temple cantor in the Kansas City area, inspired me to think of music similarly. She gave the children’s “sermon” once at a Presbyterian church in Houston where I served as pianist and music director. The subject was prayer, so she demonstrated by singing a brief Torah reading and prayer in her gentle, rich soprano voice for the kids. They were asked to imagine why the chanting tradition might be so important in her faith. After several long seconds, a boisterous little three year old girl exclaimed, “Because it’s prettier that way!” Well, yes! Sharon likened song to wrapping paper enclosing the prayers offered up like gifts. Indeed, isn’t the very best present even better when it’s in beautiful ribbons and bows? And how blessed we are that God hears our every prayer, sung or silent, wrapped or bare, in great exuberance or excruciating pain!

At the end, the psalmist expresses several hopeful thoughts: his eyes turn toward God, seeking refuge and defense. Evildoers become prey to their own traps, and he alone escapes. So may we, in keeping our eyes on God, thus be preserved.

Dear God, thank you for hearing our prayers and for your faithfulness as our refuge and defense. May we always strive to be the same for any of your creations in such need. Amen.
-David Sloat

Read: Psalm 27

One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and inquire in his temple.
-Psalm 27:4

In this psalm, David is lamenting that he is not able to worship the Lord as is his custom while he is waging warfare. His adversaries are surrounding him, his enemies are plotting against him. But he knows that “the Lord is my light and salvation; whom shall I fear? This Lord is the stronghold (refuge) of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” His wish at this exceedingly difficult time is to be able to have a room in the house of the Lord where he could worship every day.

I think of us in 2020 and 2021 waging warfare against the COVID-19 virus. We are hunkered down in our homes, isolated from our friends and family, taking all precautions necessary to not contract the virus. As humans, we are social beings who want to spend time with our friends whether it is a walk together, sharing a meal, or just sharing that hug.

But most of all, we are missing that chance to “live” in the house of the Lord as we are accustomed to. Instead of being able to go to church and sit in a pew with the rest of the congregation, we are at home on Zoom! I miss the awe of feeling God’s presence in the church, the singing of the hymns, and the choir anthems. I miss hearing your celebrations of life and being able to support you in your joys and sorrows. I miss being able to extend God’s peace to you with a handshake or a hug. But most of all, I miss sharing Holy Communion at the Lord’s Table with all of you – that special time to commune with God.

But, like David, we are here keeping the faith. We are fighting the virus knowing that this too shall pass, and the time will come when we can go back to some form of “normalcy”. Circumstances change but God is faithful and steadfast in His love toward us and He will give us the strength to persevere until we can worship together again.

Lord, thank you for your promise to be with us even during COVID-19. Help us to keep the faith!
-Marilyn Allen

Read: Psalm 38

I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin.
-Psalm 38:18

I will readily admit that I am very much on the Anglo-Catholic end of the Episcopal spectrum. I’m happy with the bowing, sitting, kneeling, genuflecting, and standing parts of the pew aerobic routine that is Sunday worship. Holy water? Love it! Ash cross on Ash Wednesday? Let’s wear that baby out in public until it wears off! Stations of the Cross on Good Friday? Totally there. I have two Anglican rosaries because of a former rector who taught me about it and made one of them for me, and I am one of those people that needs something in my fingers to pay attention.

One of my favorite “Catholic” things is the rite of Reconciliation, commonly known as “Confession”. I am a convert to Christianity, and it took me years to believe that I was truly forgiven for things in my past. I dwell on my sins longer than I should and going through the rite once a year during Lent keeps me both mentally and spiritually healthy. (It was essential during the two years I went through my divorce because it helped me work through my part in things.) The feeling of hands on my head and the sign of the cross being made on my forehead is a tactile reminder that I am forgiven and that my sins do not define me.

For this reason, I identify with the psalmist today. I know the feeling of “my iniquities … weigh[ing] like a burden too heavy for me” (v.4), and “groan[ing] because of the tumult of my heart” (v.8). What I need to remember is that the Lord is faithful and will forgive my sins. I need the reminder that God will “make haste to help me” (v.22), and that Jesus died for my sins. It is why I kneel for the Confession of Sin during worship—it is a tactile reminder of humbling myself before God and confessing what I have done that has hurt and me and has hurt others. God forgives me… and will forgive you as well!

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen. (BCP, p. 360)
-Jen McCabe

Read: Psalm 61

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
-Psalm 61:2

Shortly after I moved to Minnesota, I was flipping channels in the middle of the night and came upon a music channel and the refrain of a song kept playing over and over again.

Hear my prayer, O Lord
From the ends of the earth I cry
Your peace will lead me to
The rock that is higher than I

Unfortunately, I never caught who recorded it, and that bummed me out because I could not get the song out of my head. It was not until the end of my time there that I caught the song again on that late-night Christian music show. It was called “Hear My Prayer” and recorded by the Maranatha Singers. I ordered the CD off of Amazon (as this was in the days before iTunes), and the song has remained a favorite of mine for close to two decades.

I love this particular song (and the psalm from which it comes) because of the image of God as a rock that is higher than me, and which is therefore a safe place to be placed. This two year period marked the second time I was put on medication for depression and anxiety, and it was during this time that we found the magic dosage of my current medication that I have been on for almost two decades. It was a time where my former husband’s parishioners were mining my personal life and my web presence to try and to find any negative thing about me to use against me and against my former husband. It was a time when I needed peace, and it was the point I had to separate my faith from my former husband’s ministry because his churches were literally trying to hurt us. The image of God as my rock sustained me then, and it sustains me to this day.

Be our rock and a strong tower above our enemies, Lord. Give us your peace and surround us with your presence. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

Read: Psalm 71

In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me.
-Psalm 71:2

Here the psalmist raises another prayer for protection. He laments once again vulnerability at the hand of wicked enemies. He pleads for God to incline an ear, to really hear the cries for help. We humans have a need to be heard, to be truly understood. We instinctually know as newborns that we must cry for our very survival. Verse 6 says, “Upon you I have leaned from my birth; it was you who took me from my mother’s womb.” So, there was never a time that God didn’t hear us. What a comfort!

I’m also reminded of something my mother told me. Now, Mom wasn’t particularly “touchy-feely”; she was definitely a “spare the rod, spoil the child” kind of parent. When I was only four years old, I passed her bedroom late one evening and heard her quietly speaking. Eight months pregnant with my little sister, she was lying on the bed, reading aloud—and alone. When asked who she was talking to, she patted her belly and said, “To your little brother or sister.” Surely wide-eyed, I asked why. In the sweetest tone I can ever remember her intoning, she replied, “So they’ll know my voice already when they’re born. When I call you, you know my voice. That’s because I read to you, too.”

Nearly thirty-five years later, it was my turn to read to her. Mom had Parkinson’s for about 20 years by this point and following hip surgery, she spent about two months at a rehab hospital. I traveled from Texas to Indiana to give my sisters, who lived locally, a break from overseeing her care by spending all day every day with her for my two-week visit. At her request, I read to her from the Bible for hours, always from the psalms, and she frequently asked me to repeat the 71st. She noted that we are not cast off in old age and gray hair, that God is faithfully present throughout our entire lives. We may well “see many troubles and calamities” (v. 20), but God’s promise is repeated revival—life anew over and over.

Indeed, God is our hope (v. 5) and our salvation (v. 3).

Oh God, you who created us, we thank you for always hearing us when we pray. Amen.
-David Sloat

Read: Psalm 59

Even now they lie in wait for my life; the mighty stir up strife against me. For no transgression or sin of mine, O Lord, for no fault of mine, they run and make ready.
-Psalm 59:3-4a

The social media site Reddit has a subreddit (or a separate message board) called “Ask Reddit” where people can ask questions. A popular post topic is “Medical professionals of Reddit, what is the stupidest excuse you have ever heard someone give for what happened?” Some of the more family-friendly stories involve someone getting stabbed or shot and claiming that they were “standing on the street corner minding their own business” or “sitting on the porch reading the Bible”. The true explanation for how the stabbing/shooting happened is a little more complex in reality, but people really do think that the ER staff believes that they were doing nothing when they got injured.

Unlike these emergency room patients, David really is innocent in all of this. King Saul has fallen out of favor with God, David has been anointed as Saul’s successor, and Saul wants David dead. There is legitimate fear on David’s part, but he has a very strong trust in God protecting him. He looks forward to God showing up his enemies in front of everyone to show off the power of the God he serves. It reminds me of Jim Wallis’s comment that “God is so much bigger than all the things we fear.” God is so much bigger than Saul’s hatred of David.

Remind us, loving God, that you are so much bigger than all the things that scare us. Amen.
-Jen McCabe