A Way Out of No Way

The Psalms are organized into five books. Book 4 ends with a plea: God, save us! Take us out of exile! (Psalm 106:47). If you can, imagine if you and your family were captured by an invading army, forcibly taken to live in their country, required to speak their language, and obey their orders. Their prayers weren't safe or sanitized. God was the only one who could help them. In Psalm 107, Book 5 takes us into the Temple, where a motley collection of people has found their way back home. The first group suffered through long, desperate journeys in the desert: no road, no gas stations, no Holiday Inn for the night. This isn't a stained glass portrait of saints. These are the survivors who made it out. They come from the east, west, and north. But where you'd expect to see 'south,' the psalm says 'the sea.' The change-up disorients us, which is appropriate, because the sea represented chaos. Before satellite communication, a journey on a ship was a kind of gambling with your life. But now they're home, standing at the temple together. So the worship leader starts the service: Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever. As the Black church says, "He's a way out of no way." They remember when their ancestors walked the Underground Railroad. As they walked by the light of stars, hungry and unsure when they'd eat, they'd sometimes sing, "Didn't my Lord deliver Daniel? Then why not every man?" If they kept quiet, they might have lost hope. Their songs kept them walking down lonely roads. Psalm 107 walks us through an AA meeting of God's deliverance. Wanderers and prisoners, fools and sailors, the disobedient and the oppressed, the nobles and the needy. No one comes into this worship service with a shiny past and a tailored suit. Whether they caused their problems or someone else did it to them, God rescued them all. So they're bringing an offering that will be slaughtered, cut to pieces, and offered to God on a hot altar. When the feast is ready, they share the stories of what God did for them. A few years ago, I felt like I was watching someone else live my life. I could move my body and participate in conversations, but I was one step removed from what was going on. Spiritual abuse had turned the lights off. But a good friend didn't stop testifying to what he had seen God do in his life. Financial abuse, manipulation, and lies led to divorce, shame, and single parenting. But the steadfast love of the Lord had blessed him, and his work yielded a fruitful harvest. I struggled to believe God would do for me what he'd done for him, but I held onto it in the darkness. The American dream celebrates rugged self-reliance, but some problems can't be fixed with a Swiss Army knife. In Psalm 107, the worship leader tells the truth: God is the one who lifts us out of our suffering. The psalm calls them "the redeemed," and a redeemer was the relative who paid the price to buy you back. It all points to Jesus, and the cost of God's redemption took him to a cross and a borrowed tomb. Those who are righteous and wise pay attention to how life works, and they aren't afraid to publicly give God the credit.