Today we read Psalms 42-43, 46, 51, and 57.

Here's an interesting tidbit when reading Psalms 42-43. These two psalms, which were originally one psalm, begin Book II of the V books of Psalms (like the 5 books of Moses). The inscription says they are "of the Korahites." Who?

Korah was an influential figure from the wilderness wandering period of Israel's history. Like Moses and Aaron, he was a descendant of Levi according to Exodus 6:16-24. He led a revolt described in Numbers 16:1-40 against Moses and Aaron. He died in his attempt to seek priestly equality with the descendents of Aaron. As the descendants of Aaron consolidated their priestly power in the period of the Jerusalem Temple, the Korahites were reduded to peripheral roles. The "sons of Korah" were Temple singers, guardians, gatekeepers, bakers, and so on. But they never got to serve as priests in the "holy of holies" as the descendants of Aaron did. They were 2nd class priests because of what their ancestor did.

Might this explain why their soul was downcast? Might this shed light on tears being shed day and night? Might this explain the taunts they suffered, "Where is YOUR God?"

Sometimes our destiny seems stuck on a trajectory launced by our family history. Sometimes that trajectory can cause us great pain. Addictions. Poverty. Dysfunctions. If so, we're in good company. Psalm 42 and 43 are our lanterns of light. Despite the "black sheep" in their family, one who was swallowed up by the earth at God's command (a really bad black sheep!), still they could write, "My soul thirts for God, for the living God." It is understandable that they should feel like castoffs. But look at the hope! "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God."

You can be proud of your great-great-grandkids, Korah. They have redeemed your name.

Continuing our study of the Psalms of faith, we look today at Psalms 1, 2, 22, and 23.

Let me share some thoughts on Psalm 23. These insights have always meant a lot to me because they were given to me as I mourned my father's sudden death in March of 1990.

When I was in the 3rd grade, we were "forced" to memorize the 23rd Psalm in Sunday School. Then we recited it as a class before the whole church. As difficult as that may have been then, it made the Psalm stick with me. I've recited it often, read it, heard it read. It was always the same. But when I really needed this insight, it was given to me.

The Psalmist describes God as his shepherd. Notice that he is not talking about a shepherd with a whole flock of sheep, but of a shepherd and ONE of his sheep. It is about relationship with the shepherd. It is about intimacy with the shepherd.

Look how the Psalmist describes the shepherd: "HE makes me lie down in green pastures; HE leads me beside still waters; HE restores my soul. HE leads me in right paths for his name's sake." The word "he" grammatically is a third person pronoun. It is used to refer to someone in the abstract, or someone not currently present. It's as if the Psalmist's relationship with the shepherd is theoretical -- sort of the difference between intellectual assent or belief, and intimate relationship.

Now notice how those pronouns referring to the shepherd change after the Valley of the Shadow of Death. In v. 4, "Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I fear no evil." Why? "For YOU are with me; YOUR rod and YOUR staff -- they comfort me." Now the Psalmist is using second person pronoun. He is referring to someone actually present, no longer "theoretical," but somone with whom he is having a relationship.

It has always been my contention that a walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death does that to you. No matter what your relationship to the shepherd prior to that Walk, your relationship changes. God is no longer "He," theoretical, abstract -- God is now "You," right here, with me.

I often tell families in their time of grief that this insight means that no matter what relationship their loved one had with the Shepherd prior to their death, I believe the Shepherd comes to them in that dark valley, and they come to see Him as never before. I believe that is how it is with my father, who was never a deeply spiritual man. Christ, the Good Shepherd (John 10) came to him and dad's pronouns changed from 3rd person to 2nd person. "I will fear no evil; for you are with me..."

This insight has always brought me great comfort.

I received an insight today into the Book of Psalms that I had never thought about before. It came from our study guide.

I knew that the Psalms are poetry, and that in typical Hebrew poetic fashion, the art is expressed not in meter or rhyme, as in English poetry, but in parallelism ... where one line of thought is repeated or expanded upon by a second. "Praise the LORD, all you nations! Extol him, all you peoples!" (Psalm 117:1)

What I hadn't realized is this: The Hebrew Psalms have been translated into all modern languages. Had they been built on rhyme or meter, the poetic force would have become language-specific. It would have lost its force in translation. But because the Psalms are built around parallelism, their poetic beauty and spiritual insight is preserved.

When you think about it, that is what you would expect from a God who intends these poetic hymns to be used by people across the centuries and in every conceivable place and time. What a provision! What a gift!

Today, I continue to read "Song of Songs" with the help of Bernard of Clairveaux, the 12th century mystic. Bernard, like all the early interpreters, Jewish and Christian, saw in the SOS a metaphor of love between God (Christ) and His people. Regarding the "kiss" so frequently mentioned in SOS, Bernard says, "any one who has received this mystical kiss from the mouth of Christ at least once, seeks again that intimate experience, and eagerly looks for its frequent renewal. I think that nobody can grasp what it is except the one who receives it. For it is 'a hidden manna,' and only he who eats it still hungers for more."

But Bernard does not think that one can immediately kiss Christ on the mouth, which represents the epitome of intimacy with the Lord. No, instead, he says, "I do not wish to be suddenly on the heights, my desire is to advance by degrees." Advance by degrees. One begins as a repentant sinner, prostrate before Christ, kissing only His feet. Then one rises a bit and kisses Christ on the hands. After Christ forgives the repentant sinner, by His hand He helps us up and sustains us, so that we may not, like a dog, return to our vomit (says Bernard). Therefore, we kiss the hand that sustains us.

Only then are we ready for the intimacy the kiss on the lips represents. "Once you have had this twofold experience of God's benevolence in these two kisses, you need no longer feel abashed in aspiring to a holier intimacy. ...It is my belief that to a person so disposed, God will not refuse that most intimate kiss of all, a mystery of supreme generosity and ineffable sweetness." Again, as Bernard sees this, "first, we cast ourselves at his feet, we weep before the Lord who made us, deploring the evil we have done. Then we reach out for the hand that will lift us up, that will steady our trembling knees. And finally, when we shall have obtained these favors through many prayers and tears, we humbly dare to raise our eyes to his mouth, so divinely beautiful, not merely to gaze upon it, but I say it with fear and trembling - to receive its kiss."

You may read the whole sermon from which these thoughts come at: http://glorifyhisname.com/sys-tmpl/b5/

Where do you need to be in this progression today?