John 10:22-27 and Psalm 137:1-6 – A Song Reserved
From John 10 –
22 Now it was the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter. 23 And Jesus walked in the temple, in Solomon’s porch. 24 Then the Jews surrounded Him and said to Him, “How long do You keep us in doubt? If You are the Christ, tell us plainly.”
25 Jesus answered them, “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in My Father’s name, they bear witness of Me. 26 But you do not believe, because you are not of My sheep, as I said to you. 27 My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me."
From Psalm 137 –
1
By the rivers of Babylon,
There we sat down, yea, we wept
When we remembered Zion.
2
We hung our harps
Upon the willows in the midst of it.
3
For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song,
And those who plundered us requested mirth,
Saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4
How shall we sing the Lord’s song
In a foreign land?
5
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget its skill!
6
If I do not remember you,
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth—
If I do not exalt Jerusalem
Above my chief joy.
Quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson in an essay on friendship, C. S. Lewis noted that Emerson once observed, Do you love me? actually means Do you see the same truth? “Or at least,” Lewis wrote, “ ‘Do you care about the same truth?"
The holidays present a lot of opportunities for the sincere Christian to ponder that kind of question. The world which knows not our Savior is singing His songs, is inviting, even demanding, that we join in.
I find the Christian curmudgeon's recourse in Psalm 137. We are right, at least to a degree, to recoil at going through the motions. We are right, at least to some extent, to be horrified that those who don't acknowledge Christ would spend late December singing about Him words of worship for which they will be accountable. With Lewis and Emerson, we plead, do you see and care about the same Truth the song lyrics are shaped around?
Even for us, there is a Psalm 137 aspect to this time of year. We are, in truth, in exile. Just as the exiles in Babylon were commanded to pray for the peace of that city and to engage in business and integrated residence there as part of a meaningful testimony, so are we. Yet, we are not home. Our Jerusalem, and the fullness of our joy that will provoke our most resonant notes, is not here yet. There are verses to our heart's song that we reserve unto that day of the coronation of Christ as the New Jerusalem's everlasting King.
Yet, we keep from tipping over into self-righteous isolation by following after Christ's engagement in John 10. He went up to the feast. He was where people gathered, even though this feast was not one laid out in the Bible. That the culture around Him didn't see the same Truth was made more clear by the fact that He willingly engaged in the same setting. Joy, says CS Lewis, his room temperature whenever He is in the room, yet the spirit of those around Him is instead demanding.
So it is, often, just beneath the surface of the holiday festivities we are pulled into. People spend more than they want to. People over-schedule themselves. The God-shaped hole inside of them cries out with a kind of spiritual indigestion because these things will not satisfy. Often unready to confront themselves and their idolatry, the worldlings blame God for not satisfying them with the means of their choice. Make Yourself plainer, their hearts carp in dissident tune with John 10:24.
And yet, there is hope here. We hear it, quiet yet irrepressible beneath the holiday noise. Psalm 75 hasn't stopped walking through the air, as it opens with the holy insistence, "We praise you, God, we praise you, for Your Name is near."
With every mention of Christ's Name this time of year that we fear is in vain, that we fear will continue to inoculate our fellow humans against its real, humbling power, there is an open door for our specific and personal praise.
Know it or not, the worldlings have just started the conversation on spiritual things. Will we be brave enough, and gracious enough, to take the next step, to wade graciously through all of the, "Christmas is about giving" generalities and point specifically to Christ Who did not remain a manageable baby in a manger.
It's our opening by faith, Christian, to confess the awareness we have been given that that baby grew up, that that baby, by grace, made us aware of our responsibility before Him as Judge and of our absolute need for His righteousness. We know it on Christmas. We know it on Easter. We know it on July 4, and we can give account for the hope that is within us with fresh encounters with our depravity and His insistent, intimate glory.
22 Now it was the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter. 23 And Jesus walked in the temple, in Solomon’s porch. 24 Then the Jews surrounded Him and said to Him, “How long do You keep us in doubt? If You are the Christ, tell us plainly.”
25 Jesus answered them, “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in My Father’s name, they bear witness of Me. 26 But you do not believe, because you are not of My sheep, as I said to you. 27 My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me."
From Psalm 137 –
1
By the rivers of Babylon,
There we sat down, yea, we wept
When we remembered Zion.
2
We hung our harps
Upon the willows in the midst of it.
3
For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song,
And those who plundered us requested mirth,
Saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4
How shall we sing the Lord’s song
In a foreign land?
5
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget its skill!
6
If I do not remember you,
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth—
If I do not exalt Jerusalem
Above my chief joy.
Quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson in an essay on friendship, C. S. Lewis noted that Emerson once observed, Do you love me? actually means Do you see the same truth? “Or at least,” Lewis wrote, “ ‘Do you care about the same truth?"
The holidays present a lot of opportunities for the sincere Christian to ponder that kind of question. The world which knows not our Savior is singing His songs, is inviting, even demanding, that we join in.
I find the Christian curmudgeon's recourse in Psalm 137. We are right, at least to a degree, to recoil at going through the motions. We are right, at least to some extent, to be horrified that those who don't acknowledge Christ would spend late December singing about Him words of worship for which they will be accountable. With Lewis and Emerson, we plead, do you see and care about the same Truth the song lyrics are shaped around?
Even for us, there is a Psalm 137 aspect to this time of year. We are, in truth, in exile. Just as the exiles in Babylon were commanded to pray for the peace of that city and to engage in business and integrated residence there as part of a meaningful testimony, so are we. Yet, we are not home. Our Jerusalem, and the fullness of our joy that will provoke our most resonant notes, is not here yet. There are verses to our heart's song that we reserve unto that day of the coronation of Christ as the New Jerusalem's everlasting King.
Yet, we keep from tipping over into self-righteous isolation by following after Christ's engagement in John 10. He went up to the feast. He was where people gathered, even though this feast was not one laid out in the Bible. That the culture around Him didn't see the same Truth was made more clear by the fact that He willingly engaged in the same setting. Joy, says CS Lewis, his room temperature whenever He is in the room, yet the spirit of those around Him is instead demanding.
So it is, often, just beneath the surface of the holiday festivities we are pulled into. People spend more than they want to. People over-schedule themselves. The God-shaped hole inside of them cries out with a kind of spiritual indigestion because these things will not satisfy. Often unready to confront themselves and their idolatry, the worldlings blame God for not satisfying them with the means of their choice. Make Yourself plainer, their hearts carp in dissident tune with John 10:24.
And yet, there is hope here. We hear it, quiet yet irrepressible beneath the holiday noise. Psalm 75 hasn't stopped walking through the air, as it opens with the holy insistence, "We praise you, God, we praise you, for Your Name is near."
With every mention of Christ's Name this time of year that we fear is in vain, that we fear will continue to inoculate our fellow humans against its real, humbling power, there is an open door for our specific and personal praise.
Know it or not, the worldlings have just started the conversation on spiritual things. Will we be brave enough, and gracious enough, to take the next step, to wade graciously through all of the, "Christmas is about giving" generalities and point specifically to Christ Who did not remain a manageable baby in a manger.
It's our opening by faith, Christian, to confess the awareness we have been given that that baby grew up, that that baby, by grace, made us aware of our responsibility before Him as Judge and of our absolute need for His righteousness. We know it on Christmas. We know it on Easter. We know it on July 4, and we can give account for the hope that is within us with fresh encounters with our depravity and His insistent, intimate glory.
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