Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice; let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication. If you, Lord, were to note what is done amiss, O Lord, who could stand? For there is forgiveness with you; therefore you shall be feared. I wait for the Lord; my soul waits for him; in his word is my hope. My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. O Israel, wait for the Lord, for with the Lord there is mercy.
My go to commentary, Robert Alter's The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary, notes the the "depths" is a reference to the depths of the sea, an "image for the realm of death." It is essential to note that the misdeeds and failings at the Psalm's start are the shared sins of the nation not those of an individual. As Alter announces: "This is a penitential psalm, focusing not on the evil of Israel's enemies... but on the wrongs Israel as done." The day before our presidential election the United States is filled with corporate sin. My short list includes: voter intimidation, lies, fear-mongering, a willful dereliction of duty causing over 230,000 deaths to the covid virus, racial injustice, slander, using public office for crass personal gain, destroying the beauty and purity of the earth for short-term profit, and undermining the nation's trust in both the media and our democratic institutions. This, of course, is not new to those who have been paying attention; but rather cause for sorrow, anxiety, and confession.
As I lay down to sleep last night I kept thinking about what one of my mentors told me about "doing" church. The Rev. Ray Swartzback often said, "If we can't figure out how to make the way of Jesus real in the city - where pain and injustice is palpable - how will we ever incarnate Christ's call in the suburbs where so much is masked?" I have held on to Swartzy's insight for decades: it has been the lens of wisdom through which I look upon my politics and spirituality. It is no surprise then when middle class supporters of Biden are threatened and roughed-up by Trump bullies. This has been going in the Black America since Reconstruction. It is simply the "chickens come home to roost" to paraphrase Malcolm X after JFK's assassination. It is a visible manifestation of violent America taking up residence inside what was once our bourgeois safety zone. Today the whole nation looks more like Philadelphia, MS where Goodman, Schwerner, and Channey were murdered while trying to register Black citizens to vote. Or the beer hall violence of Hitler's brown shirts in Munich just 90 years ago in what was once considered the cradle of well-educated European Christendom.
Like the ancient Psalmist, we wait and hope for a hope that often feels chocked off by reality. We trust that God's steadfast kindness will heal and redeem our sins... but, right now, it feels more like the blustery cold and snow whipping around our hills. To honor the beloved souls of the faithful departed in both houses of Lumsden and De Mott, I am going to bake "pan de los muertos" this afternoon. Before my dad died, he gave up on the Republicans after being a loyal son all of his adult life: they are so corrupt and cruel he confessed. "And that son-of-a-bitch McConnell? His smug face makes my skin crawl!" In so many ways I am grateful that our parents have not had to endure the past four years. Or the current contagion. They lived through the Depression. WWII. McCarthyism. The changes of the Civil Rights Movement. The chaos of the Vietnam War. Watergate. In each of those pilgrimages, my dad said he saw the best of our nation rise to the surface as we became a more perfect union. Not a perfect one, just a bit more perfect.
I hoped for the Lord, my being hoped, and for God's healing word I waited...
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