Thursday, December 11

Scripture: The Lord watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin. (Psalm 146:9). 

Observation: This Psalm demonstrates what some theologians call “the preferential option for the poor.” The term refers to a critical piece of God’s character, that God is a champion for the poor. It’s not that God is partial to one section of humanity over another or has a greater fondness for the poor than for the rich. God’s love is equal opportunity and is the same for all, which is to say, fathomless for each and every person. And at the same time, God recognizes that the poor are by definition vulnerable, disadvantaged, and endangered, so it is only fair that God’s people look out for the needs of the poor so that the poor can have a decent shot at a decent quality of life.  

The Psalm names three classes of people who were among the poor in ancient Israel. The “stranger” is the sojourner, a non-native-born who is passing through the country for whatever reason and is unfamiliar with the customs and the language. The “orphan” is just that, the parentless who has lost both parents before the child is old enough to look after themselves. The “widow” is the unprotected woman who doesn’t have a husband or a father to provide for her, within a culture that would not allow a woman to hold a job. These three – the stranger, the orphan, and the widow – God is watching over. Again, it’s not the case that God cares for these more than God cares for me; rather, the poor are more endangered than me and require a different sort of attention. Like when one of my children is sick and the other is well, I love both equally, but my watching over them is different. It must be different, or my love is lacking.  

Then, the Psalm takes a hard turn and addresses the “wicked.” The way of the wicked cannot be allowed to succeed, because that would not be good for the wicked. It’s in the best interest of the wicked to fail at being wicked so the wicked would have an incentive to change and become righteous. We can ask the same question of the wicked as we could ask of the poor. “Is God’s love for this class of people different from how God loves me?” In the case of the wicked, does God love them less than God loves me? No, it can’t be, or God would not be the God of the Bible. God loves the wicked as much as God loves all, which is to say, fathomless for each and every person. But God watches over the wicked differently, as God watches over the poor differently. The wicked are allowed to feel the consequences of being wicked, so that the wicked might feel the heat of a life going in the wrong direction and turn back to God. 

Application: God summons me to watch over the stranger, the orphan, and the widow, and to turn away from my wickedness. I can answer the summons to the extent I can identify with the people I am called to love and the kind of person I am to avoid becoming. I can serve the stranger, the orphan, and the widow when I take their perspective and imagine what it’s like to be them. I can turn away from wickedness when I remember those times when I was one of the wicked. God summons me away from judging people’s intentions and toward empathizing with people’s situations. 

Prayer:  

God, whose love for all makes the ocean seem shallow,  

You know the brief moments when I was among the least of these

     and the regrettable choices I made while I talked like the best of these

    but walked with the worst of these.  

Lead me to love as one who remembers what it is like to be

    unloved and unlovely. 

You remember when I was a stranger, new to a place and a people.  

There was no familiar, only new, and no rootedness.  

I was afraid because I was unseen.  

You remember when I was orphaned, left behind, not by parents,  

But by friends, and it felt like the floor was pulled from under my feet.  

I was broken because I was rejected. 

You remember when I was widowed, not by a husband’s death,  

But by other sources of security meeting their end: my health, my dollars, my capacity.  

I was lost because I was humbled. 

You remember when I was wicked, the maker of decisions

I wish I could remake and sayer of words I would unspeak.  

I was wrong because I was uncaring.

Help me to remember me as you remember me,  

A library of stories bound in one book,   

Telling of loneliness and betrayal,  

Telling of loss and betraying,  

For only then, Gracious Master,  

Will I begin to understand what it is for them to be them    

   And how to love people as people come,  

   And not as how I would have people be.