Oxygen from Psalm 13 (Praying Then & Now)

1 O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? 

      How long will you look the other way?

 2 How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,

      with sorrow in my heart every day?

      How long will my enemy have the upper hand?

 3 Turn and answer me, O Lord my God!

      Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die.

 4 Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!”

      Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall.

 5 But I trust in your unfailing love.

      I will rejoice because you have rescued me.

 6 I will sing to the Lord

      because he is good to me.

(Psalm 13)

Heavenly Father:

Thank you for the New Covenant

by which Jesus ends our puzzlement.

In the days before Pentecost 

faithful people were at a loss.

The Holy Spirit had not been given,

until our Savior went to Heaven,

and sent the Comforter to tell us,

God's Spirit can now indwell us.

Never could David comprehend

the abiding, indwelling, neverending

solace that Your grace now imparts

to anxious minds and open hearts.

The Holy Spirit in that time

was not given to abide.

So David prays most sincerely,

"Take not your Holy Spirit from me."   (Psalm 51:11)

David could have no assurance

of Your gift of faithful endurance.

So we hear him lament and cry,

Come to me or I will die.

We bless You, Father, that we may live

in this era of Your mercy given;

We know You hear us when we pray,

that You never take Your love away.

We pray for Kathy's strength and peace,

and ask for Walter's swift relief.

For Becky in a far off land,

use her, Lord, advance Your plan.

For Stavros and his mom, Andrea,

for Sonam in the Himalayas.

Save dear Krista from her need

to rebel at break-neck speed.

For Seth and Mylo, Nathan's friends,

that their friendship need not end.

For Hank and Diana and their marriage,

for our health, our hearts encourage.

Oh Lord, let us rest in You,

for each today 'til life is though.

And then with David eternally

we sing "God has been so good to me."

Amen.

Oxygen from Psalm 12 (Yippee-kiyi-yay!)

Psalm 12 follows directly from Psalm 11.  When the foundations are shaken what can Your people do?  This lament is not about faithlessness outside the covenant community, but mourns the tactics of a faithless Church, pastors who substitute platitudes and flattery for the Word of God, substituting optimism for faith, boasting for courage, and man's words for the Word of God. 

1  Save, Lord (Yeshua - Jesus)!

   for the saints have failed and the amen corner is corrupt. (faithless means literally, those who amen)

2  Shepherds (pastors) speak flattering lies, 

   they say one thing, mean another.

3  Lord, silence this flattery,

   tongues boasting,

4   "What we say is what we are.

    We make our own reality."

5   Here's the true Word of God:

   "Because the needy are afflicted

    I hear their crying and arise.

    I will save them from your hot air!"

6   God's word is pure,

    like silver rolled in dirt,

    yet smelted seven times.

7   Lord, as You preserve your Word,

    preserve us, too, from this man-made faith forever.

8   Walk around the wicked always

    until their depravity bubbles up.

(Psalm 12 -- My translation based on Hebrew)

Yippeee kiyi-yay!  

It's a brand new day!

Saddle up -- let's ride

with the get-along, go-along gang.

Well the times they got pretty tough,

and the old-time religion just waren't enough;

so just to keep the pilgrims happy

we made up somethin' a lot more snappy.

Enough with all this covenant love,

we got the orders from up above,

the bishop that is, God don't care,

He's gone and left us in the air.

Yippeee kiyi-yay

It's a brand new day!

Saddle up -- let's ride

with the get-along, go-along gang.

We know what folks need in times like this,

something we control and can't dismiss,

optimism's better by far than faith,

I make my own truth by what I say.

So give me a pastor with flattering lips,

who can teach me a few of his shibboleths,

tell me how my life can be successful,

that's what I need, that's where I'm faithful.

Yippeee kiyi-yay

It's a brand new day!

Saddle up -- let's ride

with the get-along, go-along gang.

You can have the poor, they're the first to go

when money's scarce and adversity blows.

We'll edit the Scriptures, take out the stuff,

that we decide doesn't measure up.

People wrote the Bible, didn't they?

We're people, too, and it's a brand new day.

It ain't boasting if you can do it.

Let's find a tradition and get down to it!

Yippeee kiyi-yay

It's a brand new day!

Saddle up -- let's ride

with the get-along, go-along gang.

Now, don't despair when God goes silent.

We've got a new Word that ain't so violent.

No cross, no blood, no sacrifice,

Just friends and fellowship --now ain't that nice.

Forget everything you thought you knew

You tell us what it means to you.

We've got it all for your small pledge,

Our religion gives YOU the edge.

(From heaven: .. of the blade, that is)

Yippeee kiyi-yay

It's a brand new day!

Saddle up -- let's ride

with the get-along, go-along gang.

Oxygen from Psalm 11 (Shaken)

 1 I trust in the Lord for protection.

   So why do you say to me,

      “Fly like a bird to the mountains for safety!

 2 The wicked are stringing their bows

      and fitting their arrows on the bowstrings.

   They shoot from the shadows

      at those whose hearts are right.

 3 The foundations of law and order have collapsed.

      What can the righteous do?”

 4 But the Lord is in his holy Temple;

      the Lord still rules from heaven.

   He watches everyone closely,

      examining every person on earth.

 5 The Lord examines both the righteous and the wicked.

      He hates those who love violence.

 6 He will rain down blazing coals and burning sulfur on the wicked,

      punishing them with scorching winds.

 7 For the righteous Lord loves justice.

      The virtuous will see his face.

(Psalm 11)

Lord God in Heaven:

What can we do when foundations are destroyed?

What can we hold when everything is shaken?

Where can we go when our whole world is collapsing?

How do I know whether You would have me go or stay?

What can Your people do?

These are the thoughts that raged

within a younger David, from his days

on the run from Saul, Israel's anointed King,

who every day pursued the Beloved youth

with murderous intent and psychopathic remorse.

One time in particular did David's faith take flight,

became the darkest night of his young soul,

when holed up with his homeland's enemies,

he hears the news that those who aided his escape

had all been slaughtered at Saul's command.    (I Sam. 21-22)

Eighty five priests of Yahweh,

butchered by the wicked Doeg,

bloodied body parts burned in a pit,

and the entire village of Nob,

women, children, and all the animals,

are made the mad King's holocaust.

The holy bread of presence from the altar

High Priest Ahimelech gives the fugitive;

there too behind the ephod, Goliath's sword;

but this bronze blade was not Your weapon,

sling and stones and faith were Your tools instead.

But David's on the run and famished,

lies to the High Priest to gain these gifts,

no longer trusting slings and stones,

takes the sword behind the altar,

flees to the mountains just like a bird.

This then the dilemma of every believer   

faced with government persecution,

when foundations are are being undermined,

destroyed by faithless tyrants.

Should the righteous flee or die?

What can we do when foundations are destroyed?

What can we hold when everything is shaken?

Where can we go when our whole world is collapsing?

How do I know whether You would have me go or stay?

What can Your people do?

Lord, six million Jews met their death

when Nazis shook the world's foundations;

thirteen million murdered by Joseph Stalin,

and millions more make a silent scream

aborted from their mother's womb.

And in our age, we see the steady progress -- 

string to bow, arrow to string -- 

values, ethics, morality questioned,

by some new Messiah who would be King

and tyrant as soon as masses sleep.

What can we, Your people, do? 

Collaborate or infiltrate?  Flee or stay?

David's answer: Believers pray!

Then ready slings and stones of faith,

and fearing not the sword, obey!

Help us, Lord, should we face such times

as try men's souls and test our faith,

that we behold the more solid hope

of Heaven's Christ than Goliath's sword.

You are the ever-living Lord.

Help us pray for courage when worlds collide,

Keep us faithful to Your Son Who died,

and lives again, the graven forsaken,

that, when all our foundations are shaken,

we stand secure in His unshaken Love.   (Hebrews 12:26-28)

Amen.

Oxygen from Psalms 10 (Mountebank)

 1 O Lord, why do you stand so far away?     

      Why do you hide when I am in trouble?

 2 The wicked arrogantly hunt down the poor.

      Let them be caught in the evil they plan for others.

 3 For they brag about their evil desires;

      they praise the greedy and curse the Lord.

 4 The wicked are too proud to seek God.

      They seem to think that God is dead.

 5 Yet they succeed in everything they do.

      They do not see your punishment awaiting them.

      They sneer at all their enemies.

 6 They think, “Nothing bad will ever happen to us!

      We will be free of trouble forever!”

 7 Their mouths are full of cursing, lies, and threats.

      Trouble and evil are on the tips of their tongues.

 8 They lurk in ambush in the villages,

      waiting to murder innocent people.

      They are always searching for helpless victims.

 9 Like lions crouched in hiding,

      they wait to pounce on the helpless.

   Like hunters they capture the helpless

      and drag them away in nets.

 10 Their helpless victims are crushed;

      they fall beneath the strength of the wicked.

 11 The wicked think, “God isn’t watching us!

      He has closed his eyes and won’t even see what we do!”

 12 Arise, O Lord!

      Punish the wicked, O God!

      Do not ignore the helpless!

 13 Why do the wicked get away with despising God?

      They think, “God will never call us to account.”

 14 But you see the trouble and grief they cause.

      You take note of it and punish them.

   The helpless put their trust in you.

      You defend the orphans.

 15 Break the arms of these wicked, evil people!

      Go after them until the last one is destroyed.

 16 The Lord is king forever and ever!

      The godless nations will vanish from the land.

 17 Lord, you know the hopes of the helpless.

      Surely you will hear their cries and comfort them.

 18 You will bring justice to the orphans and the oppressed,

      so mere people can no longer terrify them.

(Psalm 10)

Righteous Lord God:

Who are these wicked who flaunt your ways,

these unjust plotters against the poor?

Who are those who mock your judgement,

whose only credo is "I want more?"

Who are these prideful oppressors,

confident You must be blind,

crouching, waiting, laying snares

laughing while the poor are crying?

Who are these with souls so brazen,

think themselves masters of their fate? 

Who could live so self-centeredly

saying, "Surely God will let us skate?

Who are these awful, vicious villains

who worship their own cleverness,

cheating, tricking, cursing, killing

the innocent and fatherless?

I thank you, Lord, that I am not      (Luke 18:9-14)

as these atheists You abhor.

You know I gave at the office, right?

Ten bucks a month to help the poor.

I thank you, Lord, that I am not

the one who plots to feed my greed.

You know I pay every penny

my accountant saves for me.

I thank you, Lord, that I am not

the one who thinks that You don't see.

Every week I confess my secret sins

and hide them ever so discretely.

Who are these wicked mountebanks?

But even as I raise these questions,

as I pray the Psalmist's Words,

I realize my need for confession.

Wait -- is that why you seem to hide

when I complain about other's depravity,

when I point the finger of accusation,

and ignore the three pointing back at me?

It's me, O Lord, standing neck-deep in need

of Your forgiveness in this hour.

Your cross has saved me from sin's curse,

but your Spirit battles against it's power.

Break in upon my sinful thoughts.

Renew my love; cause me to hear.

You are not dead or unconcerned,

My holy ground, my burning bush is here.

The battle line against injustice,

faithlessness and perverse greed

runs through every human heart,

between cynicism and belief.

Lord, forgive my crouching self

which, like a lion prowls the weeds,

waits to pounce and devour

anyone who can meet my needs.

Arise, O Lord, break every chain

that binds me to a lesser creed,

and with Your Spirit condescend

to lift me forgiven from my knees,

Like Jacob at the Jabbok Creek,

let me wrestle with Your truth,

and know the joy of sins forgiven,

and limping always run to You.

Amen.

Oxygen from Psalm 9 -- Occupy Masada

1 I will praise you, Lord, with all my heart;

      I will tell of all the marvelous things you have done.

 2 I will be filled with joy because of you.

      I will sing praises to your name, O Most High.

 3 My enemies retreated;

      they staggered and died when you appeared.

 4 For you have judged in my favor;

      from your throne you have judged with fairness.

 5 You have rebuked the nations and destroyed the wicked;

      you have erased their names forever.

 6 The enemy is finished, in endless ruins;

      the cities you uprooted are now forgotten.

 7 But the Lord reigns forever,

      executing judgment from his throne.

 8 He will judge the world with justice

      and rule the nations with fairness.

 9 The Lord is a shelter for the oppressed,

      a refuge in times of trouble.

(Psalm 9:1-9)

Sovereign King:

I have stood atop wind-blown Masada

under the blazing Judean sun,

ancient fortress, David's refuge,

where he ran from Absalom

and penned this prayerful soliloquy

to Your faithful majesty.

I have walked along its summit,

smelled salty air blown from the Dead Sea,

walked among its ancient ruins,

of long-dead kings and dynasties

that once did occupy this fortress high

and left their marks for passers-by. 

Cisterns hewn from days Solomonic,

Roman seige-ramp and surrounding camps,

warehouses for the Maccabeans, 

Herod's palace, Zealot synagogue,

Byzantine chapel, all now dust for eons,

an ecunmeical witness to failure

and the folly of pride's allure.

Lord, You establish and overthrow

kingdoms geo-political;

use them for Your own ends

to accomplish what You deem critical:

Hammurabi with his law,

Rome for its roads and later fall.

Even Israel, Your one chosen nation,

was brought down and overthrown,

for gross idolatries committed,

for following gods not their own,

proving it's not a new political start

that people need, but a change of heart.

Every peoples' revolution

ultimately inaugurates

a tyrant worse than before

with promises inchoate,

of hope and change and brotherhood,

but gives instead chains and wormwood. 

I have climbed the Acropolis,

where stands the mighty Parthenon,  

site of temples now in ruins,

paying homage to Aegean gods;

nearby the Temple built for Zeus

now a patch where dogs run loose.

All these temples lay in ruins,

at its base the modern Greeks,

whose politicians pile up debt,

turning their children's future bleak,

undermining by their largess

what worthless Euros once could purchase.

I have stood atop the the Eiffel Tower,

above the old League of Nations soars,

where progressives put their hopes for peace,

just before two world wars

bathed the world in blood,

made of realized eschatology a total dud.

I've stood atop Washington's obelisk,

heard the politicians rant

about the incandescent lightbulb,

ignore trillions owed in Chinese debt,

spending as if there's no tomorrow

and they could be right, to our sorrow.

Across this fruited plain last year alone,

were half a million souls aborted,

millions more left destitute

by pharmacopia distorted,

searching for some cheap transcendance,

and maybe what passes for romance.

Lord, can our demise be long behind

that of the every ancient Empire

that sought its refuge in human wisdom,

and were consumed in folly then fire,

destroyed by something deep within,

beyond the realm of government?

The sane have nowhere else to turn,

but to You, for saving power.

Democracy has run amuck of greed

and fast comes the tyrant's hour,

when frightened citizens trade liberty

for the illusions of security.

We have met the enemy and they are us!

Our stewardship has been appalling

of the freedoms You bequethed. 

Have mercy on us! Hear us calling.

We confess you King of Kings,

Sovereign over everything.

Oh, that Your Kingdom would be born

within our hearts and renewed minds,

the Kingdom only Christ can bring,

a Kingdom men can never find.

Speak Your Gospel in every accent

in this interlude between Your advents.

Come to us, Emmanuel,

we Your shelter and refuge need,

Reign, King Jesus, in our hearts,

and let Your Kingdom earth stampede,

draw to a close the tyrant's time.

Bring new heaven, new earth sublime.

Your Word is our true security,

Your covenant love our safe abode

as sin's ravages unfold

to claim our bodies, but not our souls.

Our hope and refuge is Christ alone,

whose coming turns to dust Masada's stone.

Amen.

Oxygen from Psalm 8 (Hymn to the Creator)

1 O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!

      Your glory is higher than the heavens.

 2 You have taught children and infants

      to give you priase,

   silencing your enemies

      and all who oppose you.

 3 When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—

      the moon and the stars you set in place—

 4 what are mere mortals that you should think about them,

      human beings that you should care for them?

 5 Yet you made them only a little lower than God

      and crowned them with glory and honor.

 6 You gave them charge of everything you made,

      putting all things under their authority—

 7 the flocks and the herds

      and all the wild animals,

 8 the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea,

      and everything that swims the ocean currents.

 9 O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!

(Psalm 8)

O Lord, our Lord:

Your name, the name above all earthly names,

known to us only by Your revelation,

and not to all the world as yet,

but to those called into covenant,

to those You've chosen to be Your own,

claimed not by any work of ours,

but by the blood of Him whose name is 

Faithful and True.                        (Rev. 3:14)

Your name, the name that infants sing,

the sweet glossolalia of innocence

silences Your ancient enemy

who lets loose the lies of fear,

haunts the aged with destitution,

persuades star gazers there is only dark and dust,

while You sustain the birds and flowers,      (Mat. 6:26)

You who rule the Pleides.

Your name, the name of celestial glory,

the universe performs the symphony of spheres,

and from the singularity of this one, tiny world,

abuzz with all creation's praise,

men launch into inter-galatic silence

ships that bear our earthling greetings,

radio waves hailing some intelligence in the void,

confused by transcendence.

Your name, the name echoes down wide prairies

in ancient paths of vast ruminating herds,

whispered on the air by feathered wings

in vast numbers of migrating birds;

great schools of fish ride sea-deep currents

and learn of Your providential care;

and in them all, the fear of man,

fallen from grace to weeping predator.

Who are they, Lord, who have dominion?

Who are they, God, who name Your name?

Religion is what we say we do for You,

but for the birds and herds and stars,

only what You do matters, only who You are,

to which we mortals can add nothing

but a song of blessed assurance,

that You will put this planet right. 

Your name, the name that fills creation,

fill human hearts as you fill the sky;

break through the cosmos of our selfishness,

reveal the True Man Who orders all,

that we may no longer be enthralled

by the enemies of His cross,

but captivated, trace the finger of Your love

around the whole created realm.

Amen.

Oxygen from Psalm 6 -- Tears

 1 O Lord, don’t correct me in your anger

      or discipline me in your rage.

 2 Have compassion on me, Lord, for I am weak.

      Heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.

 3 I am sick at heart.

      How long, O Lord, until you restore me?

 4 Return, O Lord, and rescue me.

      Save me because of your covenant love.

 5 When this body of mine is dead it won't remember you

      for Who can praise you from the grave?

 6 I am worn out from sobbing.

      All night I flood my bed with weeping,

      drenching it with my tears.

 7 My vision is blurred by grief;

      my eyes are worn out because of all my enemies.

(Psalm 6:1-7)

Heavenly Father:

Tears -- more than saline solution,

wash our cares, the soul's ablution,

the price we pay for love remembered,

the sacrifice for love dismembered

by pain and pride and cruelty.

I pray for those who weep this day,

for those who know they have lost their way,

who want and need to come back home,

and be reclaimed by their own,

lose the prodigal identity.

I pray for those whose reddened cheeks

are moistened by family griefs;

they dare not speak their pain to them

for fear the fights might start again

and worsen bitter alienation.

I pray for those who cry at night,

for children to do what's right,

avoid the sins their parents committed,

with consequences never quite remitted,

grown too late smart, too soon old.

I pray for those who feel the loss

of health and vigor, the first frost

of life's winter, as days dwindle,

and tears like condensation on a window,

cloud the dream of summers gone.

I pray for those whose holidays

were marred by passions set ablaze,

of fond remembrance of love departed,

or the spouse grown hard-hearted,

tears, like blood, flow from the wounded soul.

Tears of joy give recompense

but sweeter still of brokenness

if they lead to God's throne above;

these tears the price we pay for love,

the price we owe for being human.

Lord, one day you will dry our eyes

and we will see the great surpise

that every pain and loss we suffered

has been redeemed, fully recovered,

in the vastness of your forever love.

Amen.