Psalm 41

Early this morning I dreamed of a beloved elder who died a few years ago.  In the dream, we are trying to give her a blessing at the toll booth before the ambulance takes her to the hospital.  It is chaotic for it is rush hour traffic, but one male figure simply stands on the rail that separates the lanes, lifts his arms, and focuses us with his stillness. We gather ourselves in prayer. Later, we all begin to make arrangements to visit her, and many discussions and even an argument ensue about what we should bring her, and even when to send cards. I was instructed by the one who is most involved in the organizing that I should bring her a potted plant so she could have something to take care of later. I resist. My sense, even in the dream, is that she neither wants nor needs to tend to a house plant. She seems to have no needs at all. I am taken with her beauty and her ease of being. She is clothed in white; her hair is white, and there is brightness all around her that seems to overflow from within her. Yes, she appears old, but also timeless. She simply continues to laugh and smile, regardless of what is going on around her. We, who are trying to tend to her, probably are the ones who need the tending. As I reflect on this dream, I think we overlooked her freedom and apparent joy.  She did not know death, but only life.   

Psalm 41 is a song that asks for healing. Like Job, the psalmist is experiencing people advising him that the illness is deadly. The psalmist feels abandoned by those once friends who are saying, "You will never rise." He turns from them, and prays: 

  

"Lord, I only ask for mercy now, 

your help in raising me to life 

that I may serve you once again. 

And I will take this as a sign of grace,

if these my many foes do not prevail. 

O lift me back into your life, 

and let me stand again with you."

Psalm 41:8-10

Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

translations by Lynn C. Bauman  

  

We have come to the end of Book 1 of the Psalms (there are a total of 5). Each book concludes with a benediction. Bauman's translation of Book 1 concludes with: 

"Blessed be God, age after passing age. 

We bless you now, amen, until the end of time."    

  

Amen. 

I have never taken a journey quite like this one.  I do not think I was quite prepared for the intensity.  I remember that a few months ago I felt the urge to undertake this journey. I paused at Psalm 2 and felt I was not ready.  I may not be entirely ready now, but good traveling companions are surfacing. I feel God's presence and guidance, and I am grateful.