NOTE: This is adapted from an article Bro. Darryl wrote for the Center for Congregational Ethics, for March 23, 2022, based on the daily lectionary reading of Psalm 39, entitled “The Anguish of Our Lent.”

Based on Psalm 39

No one chooses anguish, yet here we are. The anguish of Ukraine ushered in our Lenten season. We see the constant stream of images of the death and terror of the innocent by weapons of war and mass destruction. Millions of families are torn apart, ripped from their homes to flee to another world, or forced to stay and fight to the bitterest of endings. We turn our eyes away from the anguish, but it does not the stop the pain. In today’s reading, the psalmist chose a path of silence, lest he say too much in his anger and grief. Suffering in silence. Suffering alone. Not speaking to anyone. Not speaking to God. “But when I was silent and still, not even saying anything good, my anguish increased.” 

Anguish is always accompanied by the whispers of despair. Despair leads us down the darkest of paths. When grief is the loudest voice in the room, we have endless questions with no simple answers. The psalmist cries, “Show me, O Lord, my life’s end.” What is the point of my life? Then he remembers that life is already too short. “But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.” With that declaration, the psalmist honestly unleashes his anger toward God by finally speaking out, “…for you are the one who has done this.” Why does God not make it all stop? An honest conversation with God, and trusted others, begins the healing. Anguish without hope is despair.

The inscription at the heading of Psalm 39 implies that this personal lament of anguish was to be sung as a corporate act of worship. Can you imagine singing a song like this on Sunday morning? We see the images of the Ukrainian people worshipping in bombed churches and refugee shelters. It is a reminder that, strong as we may think we are, the people of faith need healthy opportunities to express their own anguish, grief, and anger together.

How are we listening for the emotional silence of those around us? How are we providing opportunities for honest conversations for the anguished and distressed? How do we acknowledge the anguish of today in our Lenten worship?

Our hope of mercy and justice is built on God’s past faithfulness. We know about Easter.

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I grew up with a knife in my pocket. As a boy I carried a small pocket knife—a simple one-bladed jackknife. It was about 3-inches long. It was very handy for sharpening pencils and eating fresh oranges. In those days we were also taught to always carry a handkerchief or two. The extra one was in case we needed to help a lady in distress. In high school I carried a two-bladed pen knife, the kind with a big and a small blade. I also had a multipurpose Boy Scout knife and a fixed blade Scout knife. I still have both of my Scout knives and a few old pocketknives, including one that my father carried. When the Swiss Army knife became popular, of course, I had to have one of those. I found a handy-sized Swiss Army knife that I attached to my car key ring and used until the invention of the bulky car fobs. Over the years I almost donated a couple of pocketknives to airport security. I now keep my pocketknives strategically placed in the house, the garage, the church office desk and in the car. 

Some of my knives try to do too much. The Scout knife and the Swiss Army knife come equipped with bottle and can openers, serrated blades and an awl, which are handy when camping or fishing. They also have screwdriver bits, tweezers, scissors, a corkscrew and a plastic toothpick. You must have strong fingernails to open some of those knives. I prefer to have a few different-sized general purpose multi-tools for actual repair jobs. 

Most of my handy, ready for service knives sit neglected. How many assorted knives do you have tucked away in miscellaneous drawers? The secret to a good knife is a sharp, clean blade. I have some well-worn whetting stones in my workbench. Rusty knives do not help anything. Tender care helps everything. Proverbs 27 tells us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”  There is an art to keeping a blade sharp. It takes practice, persistence, patience and a little bit of oil to smooth the way. Then the knife is always ready to fulfill its purpose. Who are you helping to spiritually sharpen today? Who is helping you? 

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Stay sharp. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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How are you doing today? The already grim world in which we find ourselves grows darker with Putin’s war on Ukraine. The consequences of sin are always death and destruction. Covid-19 still lurks in the shadows. Bird Flu is sweeping through the chicken farms of America. World and local economies are being upended by an unpredictable inflation. The daily grind is burning us out. One day it’s like spring, the next day brings snow and ice. Climate change is trying to kill us. Bullies are loud and angry. The strong are grief-stricken and depressed. It is time for us all to lighten our loads. At least the cows are not mad, just yet.

According to God’s Word, sin shattered everything, even the earth itself. All this weighs us down. Our daily circumstances are harder, and our relationships are at breaking points. The longing to get back to “normal” does not seem to be happening. How do we lighten these burdening days? I have a couple of pastoral suggestions: 1. Give yourself permission to experience joy each day; and 2. Share some of your load with others.

With suggestion 1, Dorothy and I have little rituals that help us smile or laugh each day. For us, it involves reading the daily newspaper cartoons out loud, even on the busiest days if we can. For a few decades we also ended each exhausting Sunday by reading a Dave Berry story just before going to sleep. Lately, we have started ending as many nights as possible, rewatching very old 30-minute comedy shows. Right now we are in season one of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.”

Give yourself permission to find joy each day.

With suggestion 2, listening to someone else tell their story and sharing some of your story with them helps to lighten the load for both. We have become isolated from others, even when we think we are connected through social media. The telephone works both ways. So does slowing down long enough to have a conversation or volunteering some time to serve your neighbors.

I return time and again to the advice of Paul in Galatians 6:1-10. Here he talks about restoration, reaping what we sow, weariness, bearing each other’s burdens, and dealing with our own. Read it for yourself right now. It is another way to refresh your soul.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Lighten your load. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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She is the mother of a daughter, 17, and a son who is 9 years old. She and her husband had a comfortable life, she as a screen and comedy writer and he as a show business entertainer. She was adamantly opposed to her husband entering the political world. He was elected president of Ukraine. Now Olena Zelenska, age 44, is thrust into the life and death struggle that is Putin’s War. Listen closely, that’s what this horrific invasion of Ukraine by Russia is being called, Putin’s War.

In a remarkable show of world leadership, Volodymyr Zelensky has inspired a nation and won the admiration of the world. He has also proven to be a formidable opponent of Russian aggression. His addresses have brought tears to his translators and standing ovations in the European Union. I wanted to highlight a little of what Olena Zelenska, (Zelenska is the feminine form of Zelensky), has been revealing to her people through her Instagram messages since the invasion Thursday February 24.

As I write this on March 1, I do not know how the Zelensky family story is progressing by the time you read this. According to news reports, at least one assassination attempt has been prevented. I cannot imagine what it must be like for any family, famous or not, to suddenly have everyone and everything you love under attack with real weapons of mass destruction. Picture Tulsa or any other favorite city with missiles and bombs exploding in the city centers and random suburban areas, rich and poor alike. There is no safe place to run or hide, even in a country the size of Texas. In these times, a full-scale war anywhere is a war everywhere, just like a pandemic. As you are praying for the Ukrainian people, know that Baptist relief efforts are underway in partnership with the mission ministries and agencies in the surrounding countries. 

After her husband stated on Friday, February 25 that Putin had designated him as “target number one” and his family as “target number two,” Olena wrote to her nation:  It is said that many are a crowd. It does not apply to us because thousands of Ukrainians are not crowds; this is an army! I shall not be in a state of panic or weeping. I’ll be composed and certain. My kids are staring at me. I’ll be right next to them. And right next to my hubby. And with you. 

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Support a free Ukraine. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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My first dog was named Nickel because his mother was named Penny. It seemed logical at the time. I called him Nicky. Nicky was a mixed terrier. He loved chasing mice down holes and digging up anything he could find. We had him for a few years before he was hit by a car and gravely injured. The vet “put him down.”  I was heartsick as most who lose a favorite pet. Children occasionally ask us, “Do dogs go to heaven?” Grief is a tricky emotion.  I was reminded of this when I came upon a story about a woman’s grief. After her dog died, she confessed that she missed her dog more than her father. 

Dogs have a way of demonstrating unconditional devotion to their owners. The woman’s father, it seems, was distant and judgmental. She could talk to her dog but not to her father. Her father died. Her dog died. She felt guilty, sad, and angry about the whole thing. Do dogs go to heaven? Her dog was affectionate and would curl up next to her whenever she sat down or went to bed. She and her father could not even hug each other. Her father was not a bad man or abusive. He just retreated into himself and never did live up to her expectations of being an affirming, loving Dad.  Grief and guilt walk hand-in-hand. 

Our girls grew up with a dog named Dusty. He died of old age at 16. When the girls were pre-teens one of the young adults from the church took them home for us one Sunday evening. Dusty lived in our backyard. The girls could not get in the house, so they all went around to the backyard to wait for us. Dusty, seeing a strange man in the yard, immediately sprang into action. He started barking and positioned himself between the girls and “the stranger” until we got home. Dusty was their protector. They never forgot his spontaneous devotion. Of course there are dogs in heaven—and cats, horses, lions, lambs, and other incredible creatures of God’s making we know nothing about yet. In our grief and in our guilt, it is good to spend time in quiet reflection. Include Psalms 145 and 148 today.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Spend time with your family and your pets. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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