Aleph
Blessed are those whose ways are blameless, who walk according to the law of the Lord.
Blessed are those who keep his statutes and seek him with all their heart –
they do no wrong but follow his ways.
You have laid down precepts that are to be fully obeyed.
Oh, that my ways were steadfast in obeying your decrees!
Then I would not be put to shame when I consider all your commands.
I will praise you with an upright heart as I learn your righteous laws.
I will obey your decrees; do not utterly forsake me.
As a boy I learned to play the alto saxophone. I started in grade 5 with lessons at the local music store. Eventually my parents found a private instructor and I went to his house every week. For three years I learned and practiced (sort of…) For three years I grew in my ability and slowly I started experiencing a love for the instrument. I would regularly marvel at my teacher when he would play: he could improvise over top of my melody lines with a jazzy beauty that I longed for, and he could play runs and scales at a speed I believed impossible for me. When I went to high school, I joined the concert band which had practices twice a week before school. Because of that, I stopped lessons with my other teacher, settling for the irregular coaching of the high school band conductor.
Over time my saxophone playing became rigid and mechanical, playing only the notes on the page, without imagination or feeling. I felt that if I could play the notes on the page and not be the person in our section who made the most mistakes, I would be just fine. And while I still occasionally experienced sparks of joy when playing – usually in the performance or because of the side benefit of missing school to go on tour – there was a general decline in my desire to play, and eventually, a growing apathy towards the commitments of regular practicing, learning, and growing.
In my 5th year of high school I transferred schools, stopped playing the saxophone altogether, and walked away from music.
The summer afterwards I was invited by an old friend I hadn’t seen since grade school to come to a concert his ska band was doing. We both started playing the saxophone at the same time, we both had the same amazing teacher, but he continued under his tutelage when I went off to high school band. His playing at that concert was magical! His sound and ease of play was a thing to hear; the joy on his face as he played was obvious. What had become rote and mechanical to me was passion-filled and intuitive to him.
Psalm 119 is a song of prayer and praise to God for the majesty and beauty of his torah – not just the law, but the revelation of who God is and his design intent for his creation. It starts with an echo of Psalm 1 by inviting the hearer to know that blessing/happiness is connected to walking with the Lord and delighting in his design for human flourishing. But what starts strong so easily wanes. Not unlike my saxophone playing, our appreciation for God’s revelation and our recognition of his design purposes for life lived in relationship to him can easily become less and less. It happens to so many of us: our experience of faith and life in relationship to God becomes cold and dry. For me, there was a period where my faith was only an intellectual exercise and I just wanted to know everything, to read every argument and apologetic, to grasp systematic theologies and complex philosophies – lots of passion but zero compassion… For others, where there was once passion and transformation there are now only rules and rituals devoid of deeper affection. We check boxes because we know “it’s right” – but it is tiring and trying. Sometimes our living out of faith becomes rigid and mechanical; when that happens oftentimes it grows into cynicism and apathy.
When God’s design and purposes of our lives and his grander revelation becomes mechanical we lose the passion that is necessary to sustain the effort of perseverance. And for some, that just feels like the natural order of things – and so we accept it as such. Sure, we may sometimes long for more; we may even have moments where we experience something deeper than whatever faith has become – but it never lasts.
To this end I am thankful to God that the passionate reality of my faith isn’t the condition for my salvation and sovereign election. I am thankful to God that my obedience (or my lack of obedience) is not the measure of my merit for being welcomed to renewed relationship to God, but it is Christ’s obedience in my place, imputed to me even as my sin is imputed to him. Here, then, is where the analogy to my saxophone playing comes up short. No amount of right effort will have the effect of creating in me a right heart or a life that fully obeys all God’s precepts. His grace and a regenerate heart precede the gift of faith.
And yet, once received, the believer lives in gratitude for the gift. Gratitude takes the form of obedience to his law and a desire to live in line with his design and purpose for human life in general and my life in particular. When your heart is turned from stone to flesh then you are given the Spirit to follow the decrees of God (Ez. 36:26-27), when you are made alive in Christ from being dead in trespass to sin then you are created to do God works (Eph. 2:1-10).
No longer the rote and empty ritual of a mechanistic obedience but a seeking God “with all their heart” (vs. 2). Obedience really is for our happiness, our blessing. Like learning an instrument learning to live out of the gift of faith takes perseverance, practice, and learning new skills. Similarly, we are blessed with good teachers along the way who, hopefully, draw the best efforts out of us, and who guide us along the way, sharing their love and passion in a way that can be caught by another.
A few years ago, I picked up the saxophone to play again. My goodness was I bad. But slowly, I found it again – that sense of joy and beauty came back. I fumbled and I failed, but this time, I fumbled forward with a renewed experience. Maybe that’s where we need to start in faith: fumbling forward seeking him with all our heart.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, thank you so much for your perfect obedience and the gift of faith. Help me to live every increasingly in the joy of your purpose for my life. Restore to me the joy of your salvation that I might seek first your kingdom and righteousness with all my heart. In Jesus’ name, Amen!