O LORD, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me! Many are saying of me, "God will not deliver him" But you are a shield around me, O LORD; you bestow glory on me and lift up my head. To the LORD I cry aloud, and he answers from his holy hill. I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. I will not fear the tens of thousands drawn up against me on every side. Arise, O LORD! Deliver me, O my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked. From the LORD comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people. Psalm 3 (A psalm of David. When he fled from his son Absalom.)
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The story of David is one that refuses sentimentality or romanticism. David, a man after God's own heart, lived a life full of extreme gladness and sorrow. The greatest songwriter to ever live, he wrote many (or most) of the Psalms we find in Scripture today. David wrote lyrics that brought all of life before God in worship. In Psalm 3, David cries out to God when he is being pursued by his own son. David would escape the mutinous grasp of Absalom only to see him put to death by those he trusted the most. (read 2 Samuel 18)
This past fall has been full of gladness and sorrow. While I have enjoyed being a student and worship coordinator at Regent College in Vancouver, BC I have also experienced much sadness and loss. Students at Regent are afforded two very helpful reading breaks. However, during both of these reading breaks I found myself reflecting on tragedy and death. My nephew, Riston Quill, passed away last month. On this past Wednesday I played for the memorial service of a family friend, Mark Ebinger, who was murdered two weeks ago. I found myself, in both cases, praying particularly for their grieving fathers and thinking about what it would mean to lose a child of my own. I cannot even begin to comprehend the grief.
After the memorial Wednesday, our family attended a Thanksgiving Eve service at John Knox Presbyterian Church in Seattle. These have been difficult days for many and we were challenged to be thankful on all occasions, in all circumstances. After the service, I was gifted the painting Absalom by Matt Whitney. The painting, included here, is a dyptic that shows David mourning the death of his son, and Absalom hanging in a tree and pierced three times. Was this the moment when the man after God's own heart most experienced the heart of God?
I am so thankful to Matt for the gift of this work, made during the first Vancouver Project last summer. (see more at byfor.org) The timing of the gift, while of course not planned to coincide with these tragedies, only brought deeper meaning to what I have been experiencing in real time. Art and worship and life come crashing together.
I would be remiss if I did not also mention how thankful I am for the lives of my own children and my wife, Stephanie. They are healthy and well and bring constant joy to my heart. I find peace beyond understanding in the knowledge that whenever we pass from this world to the next we will find new life because of the Son whose death was not the end of the story. As I enter into Advent this weekend I find myself waiting, yet again, for the One who will bring an end to death for all time. For the One who will bring a beginning to new life forever. For the One named Jesus Christ.
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Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
John 11:25-26








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