We all think it is important to do important things. Most of us can remember some big thing in our lives that took all of our attention and made us anxious for night after night. I have the first half of Psalm 127 memorized (Unless the Lord builds the house…). It dogs me in those periods of my life when I have such great plans that I bulldozer things to the edge of hubris.
I have reached that fortunate stage of life when I can put my more of my energies into home repair and creative projects. Kathleen Norris speaks about the spiritual blessings of menial tasks, whether they be patching a pothole or folding the laundry. The kitchen window overlooks our back yard, so that as I do the dishes, I can watch the dog play among the leaves, the birds visit our bird feeder and the squirrels jump from limb to limb on the trees that are the boundary of our property. Today I am mindful of these lines from Psalm 127:
Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the LORD guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil, for he gives sleep to his beloved.
Speaking of the bread of anxious toil, I didn’t sleep well last night. I was too wound up in the results of Tuesday’s election. Those of us who marry and/or start a family often forget how much we depend upon the Lord to bless the house that we build. Pity those who go into politics, they need to be mindful of Psalm 127. One of my anxieties this week is my concern that the Lord guard over the cities of Ukraine. I am also mindful of the greater house in peril as we mess with the environment and pump CO2 into the atmosphere. Will I be able to sleep better soon?
Perhaps, I need to wash the dishes and be intentional about my meditation today. There is a peace that comes when we give unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s (our taxes and our participation in such democracy as we have), give unto God what is God’s (our hearts, our souls, our minds, our strength), and give unto our house the repairs it needs, and unto our dog her daily walks, and unto the birds some suet and seed for the winter, and unto our neighbors, our love.
We all think it is important to do important things. Most of us can remember some big thing in our lives that took all of our attention and made us anxious for night after night. It might have involved a class at school, project at work, a new relationship, or the search for the right medical treatment for a loved one. Live long enough, and you’ll be able to compile a list of failures and anxious times that ended badly. You are forgiven. I don’t need to read the list; you are forgiven. As penance, though, double down on how dependent you are upon God.
There is a subtle point to be made, if you are ready. Successfully building our houses, protecting our cities, and completing our projects, is not a matter of getting God on our side. It’s a matter of being receptive to the great architect whose plans are not ours. Moses was not born a great political leader, nor did he become one by anxious thinking. He, instead, tended sheep on the back-side of nowhere, never lifting his eyes above the grey-toned landscape, until the burning bush introduced him to other plans. So may the Lord build our house.