Psalm 84: 1-4 Trees and Children - The Altars of God

Psalm 84:1-4 Trees and Children – The Altars of God

[1] How lovely is your dwelling place,
O LORD of hosts!
[2] My soul longs, indeed it faints
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy
to the living God.

[3] Even the sparrow finds a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may lay her young,
at your altars, O LORD of hosts,
my King and my God.
[4] Happy are those who live in your house,
ever singing your praise.

What is happening in this scripture? – The Psalmist is praising God for the beauty of his dwelling place. The Psalmist says his soul longs, and even faints for the courts of the Lord. His heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. The Psalmist goes on to say that God makes places for the smallest of creatures, and their offspring. The beautiful phrase where she (the swallow) may lay her young is called God’s altars. Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise.

What is a dwelling place? In this context it was probably the temple, but nowadays if we ask ourselves, “Where is God’s dwelling place?” the answer would probably be, “Everywhere!” I think the writer of the Psalm loved trees. I think he or she also loved birds, and it is obvious that he loved God.

How is this happening in the world today? -- One of the biggest problems facing humankind today is the way we treat this planet, this dwelling place of God. We treat it as if it belonged to us, as if we created it and can therefore do what we wish with it. Where is the reverence for God’s dwelling place? Where is the reverence for the creatures in habiting this dwelling place, including people? A counselor/writer/artist friend of mine wrote the following little essay after discovering the daughter of a dear friend had been injured in a horrible car crash. Mary Ann loves trees, animals, and people.

Trees

I have lived in this city for 10 years now. I am situated off one of the prettiest areas I could find when we moved here. I watched as my attractive city street changed into a busy four lane road. I dodged the orange barrels during this construction, waited as the bulldozers moved dirt. A beautifully paved tree lined boulevard emerged.

I have been writing this story in my head each morning as I drive this street to work. I never got the right words on paper to describe my thinking but today I now know the story.

The trees that line this street I drive number 82. They cover an area of 14 blocks and about 10 trees per block. I watch as they seem to come and go. Blossoms in spring, bright green new growth, bird nests thru summer and golden reds in fall. I also watch them come and go….as they become victims each weekend. Sometime one sometimes two, many times the small bushes in between these trees. I think about this loss, how silently they suffer thru the night and then visible to all of us the next morning as they lay uprooted beside the road. The viciousness of the tracks leading up and over them in the darkness of night. I wonder to myself, who did this? Are they too lying uprooted somewhere in darkness, dented bumper on their vehicle, dented forehead or worse? I think of the silence and shame of how no one ever mentions this loss. Our community ‘secret’, gone into the darkness of the night then replaced by our orange shirted friends, digging and replacing and never a mention of where or what has happened. Just replace the oblivious, restraw the deep painful ruts and act as if everything is just fine! But is it? I still wonder,,,,,,who did this? Are they ok?? Will they do it again?

I spent my morning on the phone today looking for someone to ‘help’ replace the straw around a very real victim…..this one is 18, red haired and bright with the world before her…..but those deep tracks lead up to her and over her….. gratefully she will not be replaced! I don’t have to wonder who did this? We know his fate. I don’t have to wonder is he ok? No he isn’t. I don’t have to worry will he do this again? No never. But what about her!!!! Those muddy ruts will run thru her for the rest of her life. They leave tracks on all of those who love her. WE can’t act as if it hasn’t happened. We can’t replace the straw and drive by again unnoticed.

The victims are very different but the silence can be very much the same. My red haired friend is lying quietly and growing stronger everyday. A wonderful circle of people surround her with love and support nurturing and helping her grow stronger each day. But what about the community silence. Will we continue to let this happen, go unnoticed except for a small circle of people? This is real, real for my red haired friend, real for the trees, real in our community.


How is this story my story? -- During a walk today, on a brisk fall afternoon in Charlotte, I passed by a huge sweet gum tree. It stood against an electric blue November sky and it still held on to all of its leaves, whose colors ranged the rainbow. It was so vivid and overpowering when I saw it I thought of what God told Moses from the burning bush, when he asked “Who will I tell Pharaoh sent me? “Tell Pharaoh ‘I AM!’ sent you!”
The altars of God indeed! - Amen