“Be still and know that I am God.”
These words have been echoing in my head a lot over the last year, because the temptation to be perpetually stirred up, distracted, and anxious is so strong. Everything is politicized. Nothing is filtered. The most powerful forces at work in society are invested in keeping us on edge. The “news” is a constant barrage of reasons we should be on alert. Our “smart” phones keep us distracted, interrupting us with text messages and alarms. We’ve recently learned about the alarming degree to which Russian government operatives have manufactured conflict by flooding social media with alarmist material designed to incite people against each another. And the President of the United States seems unable to stop himself from reacting impulsively in the moment and making himself the news on an hourly basis. When this state of distraction is publicly modeled from the very top and instantly disseminated through all the electronic devices that invade our personal spaces, our society churns in a state of heightened anxiety.
When the turmoil around me seeps inside of me, corrupting my spirit, the words from long ago come unbidden into my mind and then to my lips: “Be still and know that I am God.” This invitation is embedded in Psalm 46, an ancient Hebrew hymn that speaks to our time with unusual poignancy:
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble.
Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth should change,
Though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult. (Verses 1-3)
We are passing through a period of great transition. The whole world is in flux. The rate of change is disorienting. Tribal grievances provoke violence. Conservatives cling to a mythical past that never was, liberals place their faith in a utopian future that never will be, and the clash between them leaves a trail of victims who suffer from the inaction of a stalemated society. None of this will be resolved by the next election, or even in our lifetimes. But the situation is not hopeless, because the source of our strength is constant. The response of faith in troubled times is not to fear, but to find refuge in God. It is to resist every temptation toward anxiety, hand-wringing, and apocalyptic doomsaying. It is to return to the truth that our strength comes from God. All the flux around us pulls us in different directions, threatening to tear us apart. To be anxious and afraid is to be “undone.” But God puts us together. God provides us with integrity – which is to say, God “integrates” us and makes us whole. God also holds the universe together even when it seems to be tearing apart. While many things happen that are not God’s will, nothing happens outside of God’s presence. God infuses everything. God is present in all circumstances, no matter how tumultuous. Our call as God’s people, then, is to meet the tumult with stillness.
To be still is not to be stoic, uncaring, or uninvolved. Rather, it is be fully aware of the upheaval, and in the face of it, to be unafraid. It is to know God, rather than merely ascent intellectually to the proposition that God exists. It is to be centered in the sustaining Presence that is around us and within us. It is to be engaged without being caught up. It is, as Jesus prayed for us, to be in the world but not of it. Activism that does not originate from a place of stillness is just another form of anxiety. It only adds to the rancor and deepens the divides. But when we move outward into the world from our center, we are instruments of reconciliation, drawing others away from the cacophony of competing voices and toward community.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. (Verse 4) The image of a river flowing from Jerusalem was a favorite among the prophets. The “city of God” sits on a high hill. The Temple, or “holy habitation” of God, is perched on Mt. Zion. How to get water up to Jerusalem has always been an engineering challenge. It either has to be pumped up mechanically or drawn up from deep wells. But the prophet Ezekiel had an ecstatic vision of a trickle of water flowing from the Temple, down the hill toward the east, growing into a stream, widening into a river, and bringing water and vegetation to the desert. He saw it turning the Dead Sea into a fresh-water lake. He envisioned people fishing and farming in what used to be an arid desert, all the way to the Persian Gulf. The prophet Zechariah had the same vision, as did the prophet Joel. And Jesus referred to it as well – “streams of living water” flowing, not from a Temple made of stone, but from himself, as well as from the “believer’s heart,” the new, everlasting Temple. This river is the symbol of God’s life-giving presence at the center of life.
God is in the midst of the city; and it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns.” (Verses 5) Or, as Lamentations puts it, “God’s mercies are new every morning.” The river never dries up, for it flows directly from the presence of God, out of the holy habitation of the Most High.
The nations are in an uproar, and the kingdoms totter. (Verse 6a) To that, we will all readily nod our agreement. Nations seem incapable of reining in the hatred that leads to terrorist violence. Petty despots slaughter innocents. The threat of nuclear war looms larger than it has in decades. And internally, our nation is tottering. It seems to be in constant uproar. But none of these paroxysms amount to anything compared to the power of God’s word.
He utters his voice, the earth melts. (Verse 6b) At any moment, the voice of God that brought all things into being can also bring it all to an end. So how do God’s people respond (instead of react) to a changing earth, shaking mountains, roaring seas, tottering kingdoms, and faltering nations? With fear? Anger? Anxiety? Apocalyptic warnings? No. We respond by being still, so that we may drink up the living water and be refreshed to bear witness that the Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. (Verse 7)
Come, behold the works of the Lord. See what desolations he has brought on the earth. He makes wars to cease to the ends of the earth. He breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire. (Verses 8-9) All our desolations are destructive. They destroy villages and cities. They disrupt cultures. They claim innocent lives. They harm the earth. But God’s desolations are the opposite. Everything God does makes for peace. God destroys war, violence, and weapons of destruction. He does not destroy people or communities or nations – only their war-making and instruments of violence. The final blow, the last word, will be for peace throughout creation.
The cynics will ask for evidence of our claims. “Where is God? Where is the proof of God in this chaotic world pillaged by human greed and envy?” Yet there is only one way to know the works of God: be still. When we are still, we sense how God is pulsing through every sound, every movement, and every breath we take. Be still and know that I am God. (Verse 10a) Only in the stillness do we become aware of the presence and work of God at an atomic level – where creation really unfolds. It is far easier to lament the destructive work of humans than to behold the creative work of God, but that is because we are trained to be forever distracted and undone, losing the spiritual insight to see the truth. It is because God is the ground of all being – the ultimate sustaining presence – that God is exalted among the nations and exalted in the earth. (Verse 10b) Whether earthly rulers acknowledge the power of God is entirely beside the point. They exercise a false power that is unsustainable. They survey a “big picture” that is in fact myopic. Those who are still, close to creation, and open to the deepest stirrings of their hearts, see inwardly, and become aware of the quietest recesses of reality. And in that stillness, we join creation in exalting God. We confess with assurance that the Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our refuge. (Verse 11)
Then, we may be still for others. It is our calling to remain steadfast in the midst of the turbulence that stirs around us; to be the non-anxious ones amid those who rush about searching frantically for answers that never come. We stand without fear in the deepest mysteries, where we know that the One who knows us is God.
©2017 by J. Mark Lawson
Great piece of writing, Pastor Mark. It once again reminds us that our refuge is our God, no matter what is going on around us.
Posted by: Michael Salamone | 11/09/2017 at 09:24 PM
Thank you Pastor Mark.
I needed to be reminded of these things.
I will be reading this a few more times.
Posted by: Becky leblanc | 11/04/2017 at 11:51 PM