Translation by Rabbi Richard N. Levy
Adonai, my shepherd:
I lack for nothing--
In meadows thick with grass
You lay me down,
across streams serene You guide me.
My life You restore,
Leading me serenely in well-worn
paths of justice to glorify Your name.
Even though I walk in a valley dark with death's shadow
I shall fear no ferocity,
For you are with me,
Your staff and your walking stick--
they reassure me.
You set a table before me along with my enemies.
You rain rich oils 'round my head;
My cup? Overflowing!
For certain, goodness and the love of your covenant
Will run after me all the days of my life,
And I shall abide in God's house
For long days,
Long long days.
The Psalm speaks powerfully to us...encouraging us to ask what it would take to say with the poet, "I lack for nothing." It encourages us to be in touch with the lamb within us, with our weakness, with our need sometimes to put all of our trust in God, to imagine in times when we want most to be cared for, that God is laying us down too in sweet, unmown pastures thick with grass. The Psalm encourages us to put aside our wrestling with whether we have the courage or the wisdom to do justice, and let the words of God guide us to give tzedakah without fear that we will give away too much, to extend hospitality without the anxiety that we will be taken advantage of, to fight for the poor and the homeless and the war-torn without the terror that we will lose our job our our standing in the community. "You lead me serenely in paths of justice."--let us allow God to do that. - Rabbi Richard N. Levy, Songs Ascending
Imagine God laying you down in "sweet, unmown pastures thick with grass." The sun shines on your face. The clouds travel in the sky above your head. Your skin feels warm. Birds sing. How does your skin feel as it brushes up against the grass? Stretch out your legs and your arms. How far can they reach?
When have you felt the calm and safety that this scene hints at?
How would you pursue justice if you weren't afraid, if you knew God was with you and that you would succeed?
(1) A prayer of Moses, the man of God. O God, You have been our refuge in every generation. (2) Before the mountains came into being, before You brought forth the earth and the world, from eternity to eternity You are God. (3) You return humanity to dust; You decreed, “Return you mortals!” (4) For in Your sight a thousand years are like yesterday that has passed, like a watch of the night. (5) You engulf people in sleep; at daybreak they are like grass that renews itself; (6) at daybreak it flourishes anew; by dusk it withers and dries up. (7) So we are consumed by Your anger, terror-struck by Your fury. (8) You have set our iniquities before You, our hidden sins in the light of Your face. (9) All our days pass away in Your wrath; we spend our years like a sigh. (10) The span of our life is seventy years, or, given the strength, eighty years; but the best of them are trouble and sorrow. They pass by speedily, and we are in darkness. (11) Who can know Your furious anger? Your wrath matches the fear of You. (12) Teach us to count our days rightly, that we may obtain a wise heart. (13) Turn, O God! How long? Show mercy to Your servants. (14) Satisfy us at daybreak with Your steadfast love that we may sing for joy all our days. (15) Give us joy for as long as You have afflicted us, for the years we have suffered misfortune. (16) Let Your deeds be seen by Your servants, Your glory by their children. (17) May the favor of our God be upon us; let the work of our hands prosper, O prosper the work of our hands!
"Fourth of July" by Sufjan Stevens
The evil it spread like a fever ahead
It was night when you died, my firefly
What could I have said to raise you from the dead?
Oh could I be the sky on the Fourth of July?
Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We're all gonna die
Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head
Was it all a disguise, like Junior High
Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction
Now, where am I?
My fading supply
Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versailles
The hospital asked should the body be cast
Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky
Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth
Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?
Shall we look at the moon, my little loon
Why do you cry?
Make the most of your life, while it is rife
While it is light
Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
Is this a hopeful psalm or a depressing one?...But crucial to the speculation about life in this psalm is a request that God let us know how to make our days count. This is a psalm that suggests that we experience the petitions of the poet as though they were granted in our lives: to feel God's love every morning as we awake and begin our day; to search within our afflictions for the joys that God has to show us, but that they may be covered up; to look for evidence of the work of God; to explore how we may be better servants of God...Whether this is a hopeful psalm or not depends on us--on our ability to look for God's compassionate, joy-providing presence in the world. - Rabbi Richard N. Levy, Songs Ascending
What do you think? Is this a hopeful Psalm or a depressing one? Why?
Yom Kippur is the one time in the Jewish year when we are encouraged to do the important work of facing our own mortality. We confront the fact that this upcoming year could be our last, so we better make our time count. Knowing this (and perhaps given the strange circumstances of our present moment) how do you want to take charge of your life in the days ahead?
(1) Of David. A maskil. Happy is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered over. (2) Happy the man whom God does not hold guilty, and in whose spirit there is no deceit. (3) As long as I said nothing, my limbs wasted away from my anguished roaring all day long. (4) For night and day Your hand lay heavy on me; my vigor waned as in the summer drought. Selah! (5) Then I acknowledged my sin to You; I did not cover up my guilt; I resolved, “I will confess my transgressions to God,” and You forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah! (6) Therefore let every faithful man pray to You upon discovering [his sin], that the rushing mighty waters not overtake him. (7) You are my shelter; You preserve me from distress; You surround me with the joyous shouts of deliverance. Selah! (8) Let me enlighten you and show you which way to go; let me offer counsel; my eye is on you. (9) Be not like a senseless horse or mule whose movement must be curbed by bit and bridle; far be it from you! (10) Many are the torments of the wicked, but he who trusts in God shall be surrounded with favor. (11) Rejoice in God and exult, O you righteous; shout for joy, all upright men!
"The Ghosts that We Knew" by Mumford and Sons
You saw my pain, washed out in the rain
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins
But you saw no fault no cracks in my heart
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you
And we'll live a long life
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
So lead me back
Turn south from that place
And close my eyes from my recent disgrace
'Cause you know my call
We'll share my all
Now children come and they will hear me roar
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
But hold me still bury my heart on the cold
And hold me still bury my heart on the cold
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold on as long as you like
Just promise me that we'll be alright
But the ghosts that we knew made us blackened or blue
But we'll live a long life
And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
And we'll live a long life
Awareness that we have sinned is a painful state. This psalm describes the wicked as suffering from such afflictions--which may be as wretched as feeling our bones wearing away, or our life-juices drying up. Yet most of us are not wicked. We are a lot like the poet--a person who is basically good, trustworthy, who makes mistakes, serious enough to be considered sins. But there is only one thing worse than being aware of our sins--it is failing to be aware of them, when, in the words of this psalm, we risk becoming as morally dense as a horse or a mule, who must be restrained so that we will not harm others. -Rabbi Richard N. Levy, Songs Ascending
When you look back at the year past, where have you missed the mark? How did you try to hide this missed mark? From yourself and from God?
Both the psalm and the song argue that sharing the honest truth about our missed marks leads to a brighter, happier future. Do you agree? How can you be more honest with yourself, with others, and with God?