The First Step

 I call on the Lord in my distress, and he answers me.

Save me, Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues.

What will he do to you, and what more besides, you deceitful tongue?
He will punish you with a warrior’s sharp arrows, with burning coals of the broom bush.

Woe to me that I dwell in Meshek, that I live among the tents of Kedar!

Too long have I lived among those who hate peace.

I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war. (Psalm 120)

 

          Before we start up the path, some explanation might help. Meshek was a descendant of Japheth (Noah’s son) and is generally associated with an area north of the Black Sea. Kedar was a son of Ishmael (Abraham’s son) who is associated with Northern Arabs in general, and sometimes with the Bedouins. So in this song, one might interpret that part as meaning that the singer sees himself as living far away from Jerusalem, in a cold and inhospitable land or as living among nomads, with no settled home. In both cases, he would also be living among those who worship foreign gods.

          But now, finally, we put a first foot on the hills and open our mouths to sing the praises of God and of our destination, but what comes out? A wail of distress. It’s not about where we’re going, or about the road we’re on. It’s about where we live and have come from, which means that it’s about the world. The reason for distress about the world in which we live is that it is filled with people who speak lies and who hate peace.

          There has been at least one study that shows that on average, we lie once or twice per day and that in a ten-minute conversation, we’re likely to lie at least once. If you think about it, we lie every time we say something we haven’t verified to be true, every time we shade or spin things, and every time we remain silent and allow a lie to be believed. And when we start saying things like, “My truth” and “your truth” we’re lying.

          The first step toward God requires a step away from or rejection of the world and its deceit. The second step is a step toward peace and away from war. We might be tempted to declare that we are for peace. Who wouldn’t be for peace? Everyone wants peace. We very specifically want the people in Russia, Ukraine, Israel, Gaza, etc., to throw down their weapons and have peace. It’s easy to want peace “over there.”

          We also want peace closer at hand, but this is where it gets tricky. Yes, we want peace, but when this group or that strikes out, we proclaim that they are oppressed, and violence is the only way they can respond. They must be accommodated. We want conditional peace in which those we don’t approve of be required to bow down to those who approve. That’s especially the case when we declare ourselves the victim. Our violence is justified. It’s those other folks who need to submit. Then we can have peace. When we want peace, they want war because they don’t agree with us.

       What this psalm boils down to is that this world is a messed-up place. It’s cold, inhospitable, and we don’t feel able to settle down and live anywhere. We don’t fit in. I suspect that this is a universal feeling at one point or another in everyone’s life - and for some of us, it’s unending.

          Here’s the Christian (internal) twist to the Jewish (external) practice. We aren’t called to Jerusalem three times per year with this song as one we sing on the way. We’re called there constantly. We don’t make a pilgrimage and take up this song. We’re called to take up an internal journey toward God whenever we find ourselves singing this song. We’re invited to come away from the lies and violence, but we also have to leave them behind. When our baggage is checked, if lies and warfare are found, it’s only natural that we should be sent back to Meshek and Kedar. And removing them from our life-luggage isn’t easy. It takes time and strength.