D
djeter
Guest
The Bible In Life
Many times I have sat by the bedside of someone who is sick and read the Psalms. Psalms are the personal prayers addressed to God, often by one who is in trouble or peril. They act as a remarkable channel for the anxieties and hopes of one who is ill.
When the time came for me to be the one in the bed, not beside the bed, I turned to the same source: Knocked out by the chemotherapy and unable to carry on the usual tasks of the day, one verse kept recurring in my mind, Psalm 118:5. It is usually translated “from out of the depths I called unto God; He answered me and set me free.”
But the “depths” can be translated as “narrowness” and free as “expansively.” A literal translation is – “From my narrowness I called to God and I was answered by breadth, O God.” My world grew through pain and the increasing recognition of the ways in which it both opened my heart and helped me draw closer to others in pain. A single verse offered a world and way of seeing that gave me strength and the breadth promised by the verse itself.
My spirit opened to an infinitely larger Spirit. When in pain, we tighten up like a fist. It is easy to push others away — after all, they are not feeling the pain — and to turn increasingly inward. Only I matter; only my pain is real. The Psalm urged me to expand, allowing me to embrace others, to understand that pain need not always be private, unshared. Open up, the Psalmist taught; both in heaven and on earth you are not alone.
The Psalmist also connected my pain to the human community throughout the ages. Thousands of years ago a poet gave words to what was deep within me. A hand reached across the generations to take my own. That, too, seemed like more than just a human gift; it was a gift from God.
Biblical sufferers touch us through their shared pain. In our fractured and difficult lives, reading a chronicle of difficulty and failure can be encouraging and even healing. The heroes of the Bible are not perfect, their marriages are not storybook, their relations with children not friction-less. All of us who struggle with real problems of families, of work, can look to the Bible not as one looks at a fairy tale, but with the recognition that everything has changed since the time of Abraham and Sarah except human nature.
Rabbi David Wolpe on reading the Bible here:
payingattentiontothesky.com/2010/01/26/rabbi-david-wolpe-on-reading-the-bible/
dj
Many times I have sat by the bedside of someone who is sick and read the Psalms. Psalms are the personal prayers addressed to God, often by one who is in trouble or peril. They act as a remarkable channel for the anxieties and hopes of one who is ill.
When the time came for me to be the one in the bed, not beside the bed, I turned to the same source: Knocked out by the chemotherapy and unable to carry on the usual tasks of the day, one verse kept recurring in my mind, Psalm 118:5. It is usually translated “from out of the depths I called unto God; He answered me and set me free.”
But the “depths” can be translated as “narrowness” and free as “expansively.” A literal translation is – “From my narrowness I called to God and I was answered by breadth, O God.” My world grew through pain and the increasing recognition of the ways in which it both opened my heart and helped me draw closer to others in pain. A single verse offered a world and way of seeing that gave me strength and the breadth promised by the verse itself.
My spirit opened to an infinitely larger Spirit. When in pain, we tighten up like a fist. It is easy to push others away — after all, they are not feeling the pain — and to turn increasingly inward. Only I matter; only my pain is real. The Psalm urged me to expand, allowing me to embrace others, to understand that pain need not always be private, unshared. Open up, the Psalmist taught; both in heaven and on earth you are not alone.
The Psalmist also connected my pain to the human community throughout the ages. Thousands of years ago a poet gave words to what was deep within me. A hand reached across the generations to take my own. That, too, seemed like more than just a human gift; it was a gift from God.
Biblical sufferers touch us through their shared pain. In our fractured and difficult lives, reading a chronicle of difficulty and failure can be encouraging and even healing. The heroes of the Bible are not perfect, their marriages are not storybook, their relations with children not friction-less. All of us who struggle with real problems of families, of work, can look to the Bible not as one looks at a fairy tale, but with the recognition that everything has changed since the time of Abraham and Sarah except human nature.
Rabbi David Wolpe on reading the Bible here:
payingattentiontothesky.com/2010/01/26/rabbi-david-wolpe-on-reading-the-bible/
dj