Psalm 24 – Ascent

Relationships are problematic. I’m struggling with the reality that there’s nothing to accomplish. Growing up, I played sports. I really liked to play, but the idea was also that I’d get better and we’d ascend heights in order to accomplish some goal and I had the privilege of attaining some lofty goals. In the work environment, the objective is to start in a career and, as you get better at that career, you ascend. Perhaps there’s a corporate ladder to climb or maybe other objectives laid out in front of you. Relationships are not like this. Relationships may involve 2 or more people working together toward a stated objective, but this isn’t really what relationships are about. 

I don’t really have anyone to play catch with at the moment so sometimes I grab my baseball glove and a baseball. I throw it up into the air and I catch it. I’m not any better (or worse) at it than I was 10 years ago and there’s no championship at the end of the road. In fact, there is no road. There’s a trust, a comfort, and a delight built over many years. Perhaps, you say, this is quite odd that I’d compare a relationship with playing catch with myself. You’re quite right, actually. Except that in both, ascent can’t be measured. 

When I think about this King, the thing that makes him the most glorious of all isn’t that he’s omni-everything (which he is), but that he’s omni-everything AND he’d lay that aside in order to descend. [I would argue that descent is the natural outflow of one who is actually omni-everything]. Every other god demands ascent – with the same probability of success as a man with two shattered femurs ascending Kilimanjaro. I even realized that I view a relationship with Jesus in this way – that being a Christian means I’m supposed to get better at life to ascend to… I don’t know… something – as if that’s the purpose of this relationship.

When I descend to pick up my glove, its ascent must follow. Not because of what it has done for me – am I not the one who animates the ball and glove? In the same way, when Jesus descended, his (and our) ascent must follow. Not to become champions above others, but to be with him. After all, is it not his Spirit that animates us?

Psalm 23 – Green Pastures

I played high school baseball on a field located in a bowl. I’m thankful for the field I played on because home plate and the infield used to be in right field. There’s a reason we wanted the old field to be in right field – we wanted as few balls hit there as possible (imagine a baseball moving along the ground at 70+ mph taking a sudden 45 degree right turn and you get the picture). Our team put in a lot of work on that field to take out the bumps and make it look nice. Even so, at my 3rd base position far away from right field, I was still liable to take a ground ball to the throat.

This is not a problem on today’s major league fields. They are meticulously manicured and, man, are they green (except for the dirt – still brown). But thanks to this article, I learned this wasn’t always the case. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud reading, “Groundskeepers at Cleveland’s Municipal Stadium (former home of Major Leagues Baseball’s Cleveland Indians) didn’t even bother with grass – for many years they painted the dirt green.”

How badly do we long for those green pastures? You know, the ones like Thomas Kinkade painted for us (also available as a religious throw blanket – you can’t make this stuff up!). Enough to spray paint the dirt. Enough to spray paint the lawn in a drought. 

I want life to be easy. I want it to be all green pastures and quiet waters. In Jesus, I have all the water I could ever need to produce green pastures in my soul and here I am still climbing over the bodies of my fellow man for the last green spray paint on the shelf. I guess I figure as long as I have money for green spray paint, I lack nothing. 

Psalm 22 – Favor

It is grasped as easily as a gust of wind.

It comforts like the snuggle of a colic-y baby.

It is exposed in a lover’s embrace.

And with voices raised, it is buried 6 feet under fury’s wrath.


The need of the hour is resurrection.

Not to fly away.

Not some sad morning when this life is over.



incarnated among us is the Favor of God.

Why does favor look like that?

Disfigured, disjointed, parched, hopeful.


Secure as flesh pounded nails.

Penetrating as thorns through matted hair.

Smiling like lashes viciously striped.

Lavished like blood saturated soil.

Singing staccato notes in suffocation.

Stripped of pretense like a king on a cross.









Uncontrollable laughter


When the stone was rolled away

And the Favor of God rose.

As the morning sun breaks the dawn

He breaks our hearts.


Greetings, you who are highly favored.

Psalm 21 – Power

By Aaron Elder

Power is a paradox. Those with the strongest pedigree and longest list of qualifications are, often, the least qualified. What should produce confidence breeds insecurity. What promises protection enlists the Secret Service for its own. When it is wielded it diminishes and when it is given away it grows.

This is not a pointed critique at any particular leader. I’m not even claiming I could do it better – especially as the stakes get higher. I just don’t know if we really understand what power is for. If even for a noble cause, we think power is to be obtained and maintained by our own efforts. We think we could make better decisions.

Let me burst your bubble – you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. It is precisely this moralistic superiority that proves the point. There is only one power play that ultimately impacts the lives of men – to lay it down. To give it away as quickly as possible.

In verse 13, the psalmist says, “Be exalted, O Lord, in your strength! We will sing and praise your power.” (ESV) What makes the power of God praiseworthy? This God showed us what power looks like. His laws level rich and poor. He defends the alien, orphan, and widow. He left his throne to dwell among us. His very coronation as king took place as he hung lifelessly crowned on a cross. His first act as king was to die for his people so that they would have access to that which they could not obtain on their own.

Jesus came not just to accomplish our salvation for some future life. He came to show us how to live this life. He has given us access to the power of God – how will we give it away?

Psalm 20 – Refrain

By Aaron Elder

Call: May the Lord answer you when you are in distress (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: May the name of the God of Jacob protect you (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: May he send you help from the sanctuary (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: And grant you support from Zion (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: May he remember all your sacrifices (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: And accept your burnt offerings (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: May he give you the desire of your heart (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: And make all your plans succeed (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Call: May the Lord grant all your requests (NIV)

Refrain: What if he doesn’t?

Sometimes I wonder if who I worship is not Jesus, but JeZeus. Wise, fair, just, merciful, and prudent. So far so good. He’s also wildly unpredictable. The decisions made are anybody’s guess. When kindled, his anger is unbridled and irreparably destructive. He needs to be appeased. If not appeased the call will not be answered as my refrain drips like a disparaged soul with no sacrifice left to offer.

This kind of relationship is exhausting. Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that many break up with this god. 

Now, Jesus. Jesus is different altogether. From his love – how shall I refrain? Not even if he doesn’t.

Psalm 19 – Doing

By Aaron Elder

It was 6:15 am on a Monday. My three year old is my typical early morning companion and this morning was no different. Her first daily request (banana) had been devoured and her second (oatmeal) was warm and ready. But she wasn’t. She climbed down from her chair, walked over to me, looked up and said “uppy daddy.” I lifted her up and as I did, it registered that I had more time than usual this morning. Instead of carrying her somewhere to accomplish the next task, I just stood there holding her. She offered no instructions, content to be held.

A sort of rest started to settle in. Then just as quickly, the desire to make this into some magic moment came in with the grace of a bull in a china shop. I tried to make the moment and in a flash the moment was over. She wanted to play in her bed with me in the room and so I sat and read Psalm 19. “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech… They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world” (vv. 1-2a, 3-4a – NIV).

I’m apt to read these words and add them to my proof-text stockpile. But my brief “uppy daddy” moment made me curious. To this point in my life, I’ve not really taken to nature. I think it’s the fact that it doesn’t really do anything. My wife loves being outdoors and I keep waiting for that magical outdoor moment. If you were to ask me, “Aaron, what exactly are you waiting for?” I’d likely respond by saying, “I’m really not sure.”
I have been lured into the desire to be entertained and to feel good at all times. It’s a bit like a china shop in that it requires constant anxious attention to maintain its perceived grandeur. At the same time, there is nature, doing nothing – day after day. While it is doing nothing it is speaking. When I dare to listen it lets loose a bull in my china shop. I watch in horror as every piece falls to the ground, then soon become bewildered as nothing actually breaks. When the bull is finished, I, on hands and knees, carefully study each dish and find this marking on the bottom of each: “Corelle.”

I’m devastated that it isn’t china because outside of the thrift store there isn’t a market for Corelle. My world has turned completely upside down and, at that moment, there’s not much to say. When I’m done speaking and I’m done doing, then maybe I’ve got something.

Psalm 18 – Delight

By Aaron Elder

It would turn the world upside down if we let it. How do I know? Because it did for the apostles. Perhaps the greatest obstacle we face as humans is fear. We fight against it individually and we experience it as the primary motivator from leaders – government, schools, churches, employers. John writes that perfect love casts out fear. But honestly, the word “love” in Christianese has become tainted for me. It has been reduced to a description of actions that are “in the person’s best interest.” It has been virtually divorced from delight.

Maybe I’m just jaded, but for all of the sermons and talk about love, it is still undergirded by fear – the titanic is sinking, don’t be left behind, the devil is always after you, have you done everything you need to do (to gain favor by faith and not by works)? Judgment.

If you’ve ever experienced genuine love, it always comes with delight. The type of love and delight is either disarming or disorienting depending on your life experiences.

When God came to dwell among us, it was a cause for rejoicing. Why? In a world of mythology, it was not good when the gods came to earth. When this God came to earth, he came because of love, to show favor, to show delight.

Jesus delighted in his disciples. Jesus delighted in the outcasts. I would even venture to say that despite frustrations, he delighted in the religious leaders. The fact that Jesus delights in me is hard for me to embrace. Some of this is personality, some is upbringing, some is a product of the national and ecclesial cultures in which I exist. I expect that I’m not the only one for whom this is hard.

I think it is so hard because so few of us have experienced true delight ourselves. While we bear the scars, God wants us to intimately know his delight. His delight is for us and it goes beyond us. He is delighted in this world that he created. He is delighted in both the ins and the outs in equal measure.

Jesus brought with him a new kingdom. Not a kingdom formed out of fear, but one of delight. This is the kingdom we’re invited into and to participate in.

Psalm 17 – Tickets

By Aaron Elder

In her poem “Promised Town,” Jessica Greenbaum writes, “You hoped your string of tickets would last all day, or someone’s parent, protectively wandering the Fund Fair, would buy you more because as it worked out, they cared for you. Those were the two hopes.”

We all live life like we have tickets at a fair. But we have options in how we use those tickets. Some are convinced it is only a matter of time until the rides falter. Lest they experience some tragedy, they look longingly but never ride. Some are concerned that others will steal their tickets. They protect them diligently, and even in the rides they choose their joy will be stunted, overshadowed by concern for thieves. For some it will become a competition to see who can obtain the most tickets. The comparison will consume them and they will experience nothing of the fair itself.

Friends, the infinite God created a world of beauty and adventure – he even became a man to ride the rides with us and rose from the dead to renew the fair he made. My observation is that I’m often so wrapped up in the tickets that I never ride! I figure that the more tickets I have, the more control I have over the fair’s economy. The more tickets I have, the more influence I have over which rides are good and bad and who gets to ride. And while everybody else is angry at my stingy selfishness, I’m congratulating myself on being a good steward.

Jesus came to blow the doors off the fair. He doled out tickets to those who couldn’t afford even one. He knew that no matter how many tickets those 5,000 took (and used), that he had a parent waiting at the Fund Fair to give him more.

What about me? Perhaps I’ve forgotten who built the fair in the first place. Perhaps instead of hoarding or gloating there is another way. Perhaps I can freely give my tickets away because the ticketmaster does likewise. And perhaps instead of simply being words on a page, I’d get to experience the reality that… as it works out, my father cares for me.

Psalm 16 – Feelings

By Aaron Elder

I know y’all couldn’t wait for a post about feelings. I just give the people what they want. Perhaps you’re familiar with the illustration of a train. The train consists of three cars that function in this order: fact (engine), faith, feelings (caboose). The idea being that if my facts are right and I believe those facts, the feelings (love, joy, peace (not feelings, but I digress..)) fall into place. There is a flaw in this system, however. What if I believe the same things I did six months ago, but I’m having a very different (negative) emotional experience? I’m left to conclude that my facts or my faith are broken. Since facts are facts, I must conclude that my faith is broken (cue unending cycle of shame).

Though sometimes directly, but more often indirectly, we’ve been told that the healthy Christian has no room for feelings – and certainly not negative ones. We’re left without any mechanism to process emotions, which is a big deal. Here’s why: Dr. David Eckman once said, “Feelings don’t authenticate truth, they authenticate our understanding of truth.” Translated: Feelings don’t make something true. Feelings reflect what I believe to be true. We’ve all seen this play out right? Man is yelling and the woman says, “Honey, calm down.” The man replies (screaming) “I AM CALM!” Bro, remove the tape from the dashboard lights and pop the hood.

Let’s try this out – I’ll even give you a softball. I’m going to give a phrase and I want you to listen to your body’s reaction… ready? God. Is. Good. Sorry… I lied – I used to think this was a softball, not any more! If you felt nothing, slow it down. It could be that what you’re “supposed” to believe short circuited your emotional system. Some of you are really struggling with this. You know intimately the tension between what you feel and what you’re supposed to believe. This is good. Resist the urge to reinforce the engine.

Here’s a starting point: whether you had a positive or negative bodily reaction, explore this question: why do I feel _____ when I hear “God is good?” Let it run as far as it needs to. Because we’ve been taught to “fix” our emotions with truth, this will be a challenging exercise. 

In verse 9 of this Psalm, David expounds on what he has experienced from God by describing what is happening in his body. This is exceedingly common in the Psalms. God gave us these bodies to do more than house a spirit (we need to leave the dualism of Plato behind). Begin listening to your body and become curious about your emotions. I don’t know where it will take you, but it will probably derail your train. You’re welcome.

Psalm 15 – Shaken or Stirred

By Aaron Elder

How would you like your Christianity? Shaken or stirred? Let’s be clear, I know almost nothing about mixed drinks. Here’s what I do know – in order for a mixed drink to taste good, you have to do one or the other. I’ve been a Christian for nearly 18 years. I’ve spent the bulk of those years searching for the right recipe. You know, the Holy Spirit recipe with all the right fruit.

Psalm 15 is one such recipe card. It is so very clear. It reads like this: Verse 2 + Verse 3 + Verse 4 + Verse 5a = Verse 5b. It even says, “Whoever does these things will never be shaken.” (NIV) The troubling realization I’ve been coming to is that all along I’ve been searching for a what (Christianity to make my life work) and not a who (Jesus).

If I’m perfectly honest, the equation of Psalm 15 hasn’t worked. Actually… let me rephrase that. My version of Christianity that has an equation for everything has been exposed for what it is – fraudulent. I read this Psalm and I think “if I put in the right inputs, the output is…I’ll never be shaken.” I’ve also come to a conclusion about what “never shaken” means. No job failure. No family tragedy. No wayward child. No marital trials. No crisis of faith. In fact, to experience these would be a flashing red light that my inputs are off – I’m doing it wrong. I turned Jesus into an equation and asked him to play along. Maybe this is why traditional prayer is hard for me these days.

Here’s what I know now: Jesus has taken my Christianity and shaken it – somewhat vigorously. Wait, doesn’t the Psalm say, “you won’t be shaken?” Yes. But, shaken from what? Exactly. Shaken from what. In order to find who. Who? Yes. Exactly.

So what will it be? Will you take your Christianity shaken or stirred? I’ll take either – as long as it’s served on the Rock.