Disorientation

Disorientation.

It has become perhaps the best word to describe how this cultural moment has affected my life.

What I believe and how I live has not changed much over the past years.  But the world has.  Nothing seems to be working the same way it once did, as if the meaning of words, traditional institutions, and social rules are all up for grabs.  I can’t assume that people read the same news sources any more, operate by the same set of assumptions, and believe that same basic truths about life.

It seems even the law of gravity is questionable.  Well, maybe not.  But you get the point.

I have friends who view the pandemic very differently from me, taking it far less seriously, even to the point of dismissing it.  My wife Patricia recently said to me, “Don’t they know the stress health care workers are facing, the warnings they’re issuing, the sense of panic they’re feeling?  Aren’t they aware of the numbers?”  And the answer is: “NO!”  They’re living in an alernative reality.  They think we are, too.

Disorientation.

The Psalmist could have used the same word.  His world was falling apart.  He needed perspective, just as we do.  He found it in God.

He turns to God first, around whom he wants to reorient his life.  He enters into silence; he centers himself; he aligns his reality with God’s reality.  He recalls the ancient truths.

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
    from him comes my salvation.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall never be shaken.

Then he turns toward the chaos.  He sees evil people lurking, trying to disrupt and confuse the godly, striving to defeat and destroy them, as if pushing them over like an old, rotten fence. They deny objective truth, promote falsehood, bless outwardly but curse inwardly.  They scheme and plot, lie and deceive.  They want power, at any price.

How long will you assail a person,
    will you batter your victim, all of you,
    as you would a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
Their only plan is to bring down a person of prominence.
    They take pleasure in falsehood;
they bless with their mouths,
    but inwardly they curse.

Again, the Psalmist turns to God and enters into silence.  He sees that God is ultimate truth, goodness, beauty—in short, God is ultimate reality.

For God alone my soul waits in silence,
    for my hope is from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall not be shaken.

God alone—he keeps using that word!—is his rock, refuge, strength, salvation, and hope, even if the rest of the world seems to have gone crazy.  He trusts solely in God; he pours out his heart completely to God.

On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
    my mighty rock, my refuge is in God.

Trust in him at all times, O people;
    pour out your heart before him;
    God is a refuge for us.

Having gained perspective, he takes a fresh look at his circumstances.  He sees life differently.  Even the putative big and famous people (“of high estate,” as the Psalmist puts it) are really nothing, a mere breath, a delusion, on the same level as little people.  Put them on the scale, they would be so light that the other half of the scale that has nothing on it would still be heavier.  Big people as well as little people are together “lighter than a breath,” he says.

Those of low estate are but a breath,
    those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
    they are together lighter than a breath.

He reminds himself that it is an utter waste of time to angle for attention, compete for power, cut corners, strive for wealth and privilege.  Seek God and play by God’s rules, and not anyone else’s.

Put no confidence in extortion,
    and set no vain hopes on robbery;
    if riches increase, do not set your heart on them.

He turns one last time to God.  There is only one Being in the entire universe that has ultimate power, one Being whose judgment is final.  That Being is the Almighty God.  But unlike everyone else, this God is the source of steadfast love.  Aim to please him, and him alone.

Once God has spoken;
    twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God,
     and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.

How will God judge us?  According to our “work.”  Not works, but work.  The Psalmist is referring to our individual callings, the work to which God has assigned us, however ordinary, insignificant, and unheralded it seems to be.  

For you [God] repay to all
    according to their work.

Be faithful and do your calling, the Psalmist is saying.  Look to God. And trust that God will do something extraordinary with the ordinariness of your labor.  

I feel small right now.  Poverty, racism, polarization, intrigue, pandemic—they’re overwhelming me.  I think to myself, “What can I do?  I am nothing.”

The Psalmist reminds me to keep turning to God.  God is God, I am not, nor is anyone else.  I am called to seek him in silence and remember the ancient truths.

And then get back to my work.