30 November 2018

Advent Canticles – Advent I, 30 November 2018


Advent, despite the depredations of the secular world, is not Christmas.  Why not, this time around, I thought, attend to the Psalms in the Lectionary for Advent.  But as it turns out, only for the 1st Sunday in Advent do we actually have a Psalm.  For the other three Sundays it is Canticles – The Benedictus, a Canticle from Isaiah, and on Advent IV the Magnificat.  For Advent I then it is Psalm 25, the first half of it.  Unto thee, O Lord, will I lift up my soul… That’s from the Coverdale version, 1535.  It is the version used in Anglican prayer books, one way and another, down to the present day. 

My God, I have put my trust in thee; O let me not be confounded,

Neither let mine enemies triumph over me…

The Psalmist turns to prayer.  His or her prayer is heartfelt and personal from the outset.  It is not any formal saying of prayers, although that, as we know, has its important place.  Here however the Psalmist is not hiding at all from God, or from herself.  There is no one else present.  She says, or sings, I lift up my soul…  Her life, in the most hidden depths she knows, she is offering back to God.  And she is deeply aware of what she thinks are its defects.  God may not be seeing the defects she sees… but this is her prayer, and she means every word.  She wishes she had better words.

O let me not be confounded…  The Hebrew means blushing, ashamed, even disqualified.  Her deepest desire here is to be confident and honest before God.  Neither let mine enemies triumph over me…  When we read the Psalms, or hear them in church, “my enemy” is a frequent presence, but “my enemy” may not at all be some attack from elsewhere.  “The enemy” may be within, personal, obstinate, lifelong – an addiction perhaps, an intractable memory, some perceived inadequacy, some failure...  We read the Psalms as what they are, poetry, and charged with meaning we never suspected.  These prayers in all their red-bloodedness give us a voice.  So we linger over them, and love them.  The Psalmist is speaking for us and often movingly.

Shew me thy ways, O Lord; teach me thy paths.

Lead me forth in thy truth, and learn me[1]

In her stillness and attention in prayer she is reminded that life and the world are not primarily about her.  God’s way is primary, not mine; God’s will, not mine; God’s word, not mine.  Hebrew loves to say the same thing twice with different words – in this case, four times:  Shew me… teach me… lead me… learn me…  The third one is a word derived from the noun meaning a goad, a prod, even a rod of correction.  It is as though we learn, often as not, if we are willing and listening, which often we are not -- by the adverse things that happen, the setbacks, the calamities.  The Psalmist in her prayer submits to leading, or prodding, so long as it is along the path of truth, love and goodness.  And so her prayer goes on… Psalm 25.  You may be able to read it yourself in the First Week of Advent.



[1] Coverdale authorises us to use “learn” transitively to mean imparting knowledge.

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