The Lord will Keep You – Psalm 121

“The Lord will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life.  The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”

Psalm 121:7-8

The promise that the Psalmist stands upon is that the Lord “will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life.”  This hopeful exile is already looking toward life in Jerusalem where homes will be rebuilt and the returnees will be able to go out and come in from their own homes.  For the Jews, that “going out and coming in” is a sacred act.  The doorway of a home is reminiscent of the first Passover in Egypt when God commanded the Israelites to sprinkle blood on the doorposts as a sign, and for protection from the angel of death (Exodus 11).  Faithful Jews place a Mezuzah on their doorposts as a reminder of this protection.  A Mezuzah is a small decorative case containing a fragment of parchment upon which the words of the Shema (Deut. 6:4-9) are written.  This fulfills the command to “write the words of God on the doorposts of your house” (Deut. 6:9).  When we go out or come in to our home we are passing, as it were, from one world to another.  As liturgical Christians, we can sanctify that transition with a font of holy water by the doorway.  When we make the sign of the cross with the holy water upon our departure or our return, it is a reminder to us that though we may be moving out into the world, or returning from it, we belong to another kingdom, and by our baptism we have been marked as Christ’s own forever.  We are reminded that the Lord will be with us; He will keep us from all evil; He will keep our life.

This “signing,” as we pass through the doorway of our home, is a sign of worship.  Worship is the essential component of our life in Christ as we walk in His paths.  Worship is the practice of putting God first in all that we do.  It is the act of assigning “worth” to God above the worth we place on the things of this world.  As we sanctify the doorway of our home, we declare our home to be first and foremost a “house of God”, and we make our home in Him.  Our homes are intended by God to be havens of peace, even as Jerusalem is the “City of Peace”.  

The prophet Isaiah foresaw the day when the Lord would restore Jerusalem, and at the beginning of his written prophecy he cried out, 

It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’ 

Isaiah 2:2-3

The Psalmist wanted to return to Jerusalem, to the mountain of the house of the Lord, and to rebuild the house of worship, the Holy Temple, on that mountain.  Then both returnees and the pilgrims from the nations could go out and come in to the Lord’s house and He could “teach us His ways, and that we may walk in His paths.”  And the Psalmist’s hope stretched further, that even the homes of the returnees would be safe havens, places where they could go out and come in before the Lord.  He believed that the Lord would keep their lives in His eternal care, that their homes would be places of worship.  

“The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”  Let us give to Him who keeps us from all evil the worth that He so richly deserves.

Look to the Hills – Psalm 121

“I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come?  My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

Psalm 121:1-2

Take a moment and read Psalm 121.

Bishop Terwilliger was my spiritual director when I was in seminary.  He was from the hill country of upstate New York.  When he first flew to Dallas after begin elected suffragan bishop of Dallas, his first thought as he gazed from the window of the plane on his approach to DFW airport was, “It’s so flat!”  The sight of the mountains holds a certain comfort for those of us who call the mountain regions our home.  The Psalmist would agree.  From the far distant city of their exile on the low, flat plains of Babylon and the banks of the Euphrates River, the Psalmist turns to the west and cries a longing plea to God that he may return to the hills of his homeland.  

The first words of Psalm 121, “I lift up my eyes to the hills,” should sound very familiar to Asheville residents.  They are printed, in Latin, on our city seal: “LEVO OCULOS MEOS IN MONTES”.  Asheville and Jerusalem have much in common.  The elevation of the two cities is nearly identical, and both are surrounded by mountains.  And for those of us in Christ Jesus, both are our home.  For me, when I travel, there is no more comforting sight as I make my return home, than to see the mountains in the distance as I come up I-40 from the Piedmont or climb the Saluda grade on I-26 from South Carolina.  This same longing, to see the mountains, was in the heart of the Psalmist as he penned the words of this Psalm.

But a journey home for the exiles would be difficult, even impossible, without the help of the Lord.  It would take about four months for a camel-driven caravan to travel the more than 900 miles from Babylon to Jerusalem.  Babylon, at its highest point, is only about 100 feet above sea level.  And the journey west, toward Jerusalem, would be across sun scorched desert wasteland.  And the last part of the journey would be a precipitous climb.  The exiles would need to cross the Jordan near the Dead Sea which is 1410 feet below sea level, then climb almost 4000 feet over the mountains before reaching the Holy City.  But any journey home is worth the effort, and the Psalmist’s heart ached to make the journey.

The Word of the Lord to the exiles was that they would return to their homeland.  Seeking the vision of the Lord the Psalmist turns toward Jerusalem and stands on that promise.  But he also recognized that pursuing the promises of God can be difficult in a foreign land.  Nevertheless, the pursuit of God, and fulfillment of His will, is always worth the hard work.  Also we must remember that we never pursue God’s promises alone.  God is with us, and “He will not let your foot be moved…The Lord is your keeper, the Lord is your shade on your right hand” (vv. 3,5).  He will keep us sure-footed on the climb, and shielded from the sun in the desert wastelands. 

So, we lift our eyes to the hills.  We lift our eyes to our home.  We lift our eyes to the Lord.  From Him comes our help.  He who made heaven and earth will be with us, we need only look to Him.

Exiles in a Foreign Land – Psalm 120

“Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace.”

Psalm 120:6

The verse quoted above from Psalm 120 could have been penned today.  The climate in which we find ourselves is one of seemingly perpetual conflict.  There are the constant political conflicts, the standoff between vaxers and antivaxers, the agitation between the pro-life and pro-choice camps, and dozens of other causes around which sides are drawn.  And never shall the twain meet in civil conversation.  Too long has it been since we could live in harmony and peace with those who differ from us.  The Honorable Craig Horn, a former member of the North Carolina General Assembly, in a 2018 commencement ceremony at South Piedmont Community College, offered the following observation to those who were about to graduate:

We love it when public leaders stand tall, but only when they stand tall for what we believe. We love it when our elected officials cast an unpopular vote, but only if that vote agrees with our own. And we cheer on the one that marches to a different drummer, but only when we hear the same music. These days we disagree on just about everything: racial issues, immigration issues, bathroom issues, healthcare law, same-sex marriage, and who should be president. Sadly, we do this with rants, screams, interruptions, street protests that are increasingly violent, and personal attacks that are increasingly virulent. We not only have our own opinions, but we also seem to have our own facts. These disagreements can make us more hoarse, but they seldom make us more smart. They rarely sharpen our thinking much less change our minds. The result is that we no longer can even have discussions about issues on which we disagree.

We are citizens of the New Jerusalem, but we are resident in the city of this secular world.  In his letter to the exiles in Babylon, the prophet Jeremiah said, “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon…seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jer. 29:4-7).  We are to pray for THIS city.  And Solomon reminds us that “By the blessing of the upright a city is exalted, but it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked.He who belittles his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding remains silent” (Prov. 11:11-12).  And St. Peter exhorts us to “Honor all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (1 Pet. 2:17).  But sadly, in the current political climate, it has become commonplace for Christians to curse the current office-holders, whether president, senator, representative, state governor, or city mayor.  Yet, Scripture commands that we not speak evil of a ruler of the people (Exodus 22:28; Acts 23:5).

The Psalmist was in exile in the midst of a people who hated peace.  But he continued to pursue peace.  He said, “I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war.”  That is not unlike the present circumstances in this country.  These may be evil times, but Jesus knows that, and He gives us a clear directive to follow: “I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also…You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matt. 5:39-45).  Let us, then, follow this pattern for peace!

Living Apart from Zion – Psalm 120

“In my distress I called to the Lord, and He answered me.”

Psalm 120:1

Take a moment and read Psalm 120.  

Astronaut Scott Kelly spent an entire year on the International Space Station.  He was a willing exile from his “home planet”.  In his memoir entitled, Endurance: A Year in Space, he reflected, “I miss cooking. I miss chopping fresh food, the smell vegetables give up when you first slice into them. I miss the smell of the unwashed skins of fruit, the sight of fresh produce piled high in grocery stores. I miss grocery stores, the shelves of bright colors and the glossy tile floors and the strangers wandering the aisles. I miss people…I miss the sudden chill of wind on my back, the warmth of sun on my face. I miss showers. I miss running water in all its forms: washing my face, washing my hands. I miss sleeping in a bed – the feel of sheets, the heft of a comforter, the welcoming curve of a pillow. I miss the colors of clouds at different times of day and the variety of sunrises and sunsets on Earth.”  He missed being home, being with those whom he loved.  Kelly noted that without daily calls home, and long conversations with his family, he would not have been able to endure that long year.

The Psalmist had a similar experience.  There were many things that he undoubtedly missed from his home in Jerusalem.  But he, like Scott Kelly, could “phone home”.  He would do so from his place of prayer.  Without his calls to the Lord the Psalmist’s exile would have been intolerable.  But for what was the Psalmist longing?  What was missing that made the exile in Babylon so difficult?  It was Jerusalem herself.  Jerusalem, the City of Peace.  Our Psalmist missed the peace and tranquility that comes from being in a place where people share the same values and can live peaceably together. 

Distressed by lying lips and the quarrelsomeness of men, the Psalmist needs the comforting words of his heavenly Father.  And so, he phones home.  “In my distress I called to the Lord.”  When we find ourselves torn apart from our home, we can become jaded.  It is far too easy to slip into the patterns of behavior of those with whom we live.  This is why St. Paul trumpets his warning to the Christians in Rome.  He says, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2).  And to the Church at Corinth, which was notorious for picking up the practices of their pagan neighbors, Paul warns, “Do not be deceived: ‘Bad company ruins good morals.’” (1 Cor. 15:33).  

Our home is the New Jerusalem, but in this present time we live as exiles here in this secular arena.  Paul warns us not be become like those with whom we live, but to be different, righteous.  We are to go out among the residents of this world and be lights in the darkness.  We are called to be with them but not to become like them.  Pray for them.  Let the love of Christ show through you toward each person with whom you interact each day.  The challenge for us, as it was for the Israelites who were in exile in Babylon, is to live in the Lord, though apart from our home with Him.  Jesus said that He has not called us out of this world, but that He would keep us from evil one (John 17:15; 15:19).  That is why, while we live apart from Zion, we need to phone home daily.

How Do We Sing the Lord’s Song in a Foreign Land? 

“How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill! Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy!”

Psalm 137:4-6

We begin our journey in a foreign land.  Through baptism we were born into Zion, we were made citizens of the New Jerusalem, but we are separated from the land of our birth by our sin.  The process of sanctification is the heart of our journey toward the Promised Land.  In this first full week of Lent we will explore what it means to live in exile.  This world, the secular society in which we dwell physically, is not our permanent home.  It is a territory fraught with distractions which seek to draw our attention away from our true home and our loving Father.  St. Peter strongly warns us to beware.  He says, “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Peter 2:11).   And he adds a few chapters later: “Be sober, be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour.  Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experience of suffering is required of your brotherhood throughout the world.  And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, establish, and strengthen you” (1 Peter 5:8-10).

We are citizens of the Kingdom.  We are sons and daughters of the King.  But we are still making our way through this world with all of the challenges and temptations associated with this secular environment.  Though we find ourselves in this foreign land, St. Paul exhorts us to keep our eyes lifted up.  In Colossians 3:1-4, he says, “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

So, here we are now, exiles in this strange and foreign land.  Our true home is the Kingdom of our Father.  As we begin reading these first three Songs of Ascent, let us look carefully at how we are living our lives as citizens of the Kingdom in a foreign land.

We are Pilgrims on a Journey

“We are pilgrims on a journey, We are travelers on the road, We are here to help each other, Walk the mile and bear the load.”

The Servant Song, by Richard Gillard  ©1977 Scripture in Song.  Used by permission.  CCLI License #1092004

Spiritual pilgrimages are never taken alone.  Even “solitary” pilgrimages are built on the backs of all previous pilgrims and their insights and accomplishments.  For example, when St. Ignatius Loyola took his solo trek from Spain to Jerusalem, as was mentioned in the introduction, he stopped numerous times along the way to learn from the elders in the cities and cathedrals of Europe.  He knew to make the pilgrimage because of what he had learned from others who had preceded him on the journey.  We know that a Lenten pilgrimage has potential benefits for us personally and for the Church as a whole because there are those who have made this pilgrimage before and who have left a legacy for us.  And we can learn from our predecessor’s mistakes and triumphs.  We are pilgrims on a journey.  We are also here “to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.”

St. Paul tells us in Galatians 6:2 that we are to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.”  We are in this journey together.  We are one Body in Christ.  We are each in a unique place, with a unique calling, but that calling is given to us for the common good.  As St. Paul reminds us in his first letter to the Corinthians, each one of us is essential to the whole.  “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it” (12:27).

The Jewish pilgrims, the returning exiles who wrote the Songs of Ascent, would have known this truth from the writings of the scriptural wisdom literature.  In Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, the preacher wrote: “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

As we make our way through this Lenten pilgrimage, as we seek the New Jerusalem, let us do it together.  You may read these meditations alone, but do not neglect to talk to others in the parish about what the Lord is saying to you in them.  In the epistle to the Hebrews (10:24-25) we are reminded that we need to make this journey together.  The author says, “let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”  

“We are pilgrims on a journey…we are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.”

Who is singing? and to Whom?

“With weeping they shall come, and with pleas for mercy I will lead them back, I will make them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble, for I am a father to Israel, and Ephraim is my firstborn.Hear the word of the Lord, O nations, and declare it in the coastlands far away; say, ‘He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd keeps his flock.’” 

Jeremiah 31:9-10

There is a reflection of Psalm 23 in the passage quoted above from Jeremiah.  Though we may be walking “through the valley of the shadow of death” in this secular world, the Good Shepherd will give us green pastures, and “will make [us] walk by brooks of water in a straight path.”  He will not allow us to stumble if we keep our focus on Him.  This is what we are witnessing and experiencing in reading and singing the Songs of Ascent.  But by whom were these songs written, and to whom are they sung?

As we have seen, these Psalms were written by the Jewish exiles who were held captive in Babylon in the sixth century BC.  Once the Jews were released and allowed to return to their home, and allowed to rebuild the city of Jerusalem, they sang of their struggles both in captivity and in the arduous journey back to their homeland.  They were singing with their hearts turned toward God in gratitude and praise, but they were also singing in communion with one another as encouragement to each other, for the road home was a difficult one.  The Psalms point to their recognition of the need for God, and their need for each other in making this journey.

The Psalter as a whole is a collection of reflections of the human heart.  The Psalms cover the gamut of human experience in relation to God.  They are expressions of our experience of the Almighty, and reflect both the good and the bad things that happen to us when we pursue our relationship with Him.   Bishop Demetri, of the Antiochian Orthodox Church, in his foreword to the book Christ in the Psalms, by Patrick Henry Reardon, said:  

The Psalms are important because they express in divinely inspired language the innermost thought and even fears of humanity.  The Psalms express the wonder felt by those who gaze at the glory of God’s creation.  They give words to the intense sorrow for sin.  They profoundly express the horror of loneliness and alienation.  No matter how deeply invaded by sentiments of despair, one finds these feelings echoed in the Psalms themselves, and, more important, finds them answered by the glorious message of the love of God.  Most important, however, the Psalms point toward the ultimate liberation of humanity from sin, death, and despair through Jesus Christ.  Indeed, it is only through Christ that we can understand the poetic language of the Psalms…It is most significant that, when He hung on the Cross, Our Lord quoted from the Psalms.

As we begin this Lenten Pilgrimage, we are called to focus our attention on Zion, not the world.  As we listen to and join in singing the Songs of Ascent, let us hear in them the Word of the Lord.  Let us listen to Him.  For in Him we will find hope and salvation.  We are marching to Zion.

The Songs of Ascent:  What are they?

“For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”

Romans 15:4

It is important for us to read the Holy Scriptures because they were, as St. Paul said, “written for our instruction”, and through their encouragement “we might have hope.”  The Songs of Ascent are songs of hope for pilgrims seeking their home in God’s Holy City.  Some have described the Songs of Ascent as a “handbook of devotions for pilgrims”.  A full ten percent of the 150 Psalms found in the Bible are written as songs for the journey back to the Lord and to His Holy City.  These fifteen Songs of Ascent are Psalms 120 through 134 of the Biblical Psalter.  

In the exposition of the Psalms in the Interpreter’s Bible (vol. 4, p. 639), the expositor states:

There is much in these fifteen psalms that fits in with the regular visits to the temple for the recognized feasts and festivals.  But what has all this to do with us?  Why trouble our heads with ancient processions and their musical accompaniments?  Actually the question may be raised in many other connections?  Why study the classics?  Why write and read ancient, or indeed modern, history?  Why trouble about the excavation of long-buried deities?  Why?  Because such investigations help us today.  There can be no doubt about this with the Songs of Ascent, especially if we think of life itself as a pilgrimage.  We are all travelers upon a path which, though trodden hard by those who were before us, is yet new to us with pleasant and unpleasant surprises at every turn.

So even though these Psalm were written by Jewish exiles making their way back home to a demolished city which they called home, there is something important in each one of these songs for us today.  They were “written for our instruction”.  But beyond that, when we recite, sing, or simply read these Psalms, we join with every pilgrim who has made the trek toward a closer walk with God.  We join even with our Lord Himself who made the earthly pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the great feasts of the Jewish year, and who undoubtedly joined with His disciples in singing these Psalms along the way.  In studying the words of the Songs of Ascent we are instructed in how to prepare to enter into the New Jerusalem, and to offer pleasing worship to God in His Holy Temple.

There is an ebb and flow to these Psalms when read them in order.  As we move steadily through this “handbook of devotions for pilgrims” we move out of allegiance to, and dependence on the things of this world and make a steady progression into the New Jerusalem.  And once we are there, we learn how to make our home in His Presence, His dwelling place, and offer pleasing and laudable worship to Him.

The Songs of Ascent are our “map quest”, the directions we need to find our way out of this world and into the place where we belong as citizens of the Kingdom.

Traveling to the New Jerusalem

“But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God,

the heavenly Jerusalem…” 

Hebrews 12:22

Psalm 87 begins with these words:  “On the holy mount stands the city he founded; the Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwelling places of Jacob.”  This is a place which we should all be eager to visit.  It is a place in which all the faithful long to dwell.  But the Psalmist indicates that Zion is not only a destination for pilgrimage, it is also our birthplace.  In verse four, the Psalmist says, “Among those who know me I mention Rahab and Babylon…Philistia and Tyre, with Ethiopia…this one and that one were born in her.”  These are all Gentile nations.  And all of these nations had at one time or another been sworn enemies of God’s people.  Many of them had ravaged or destroyed Jerusalem.  And yet the Psalmist says that the Most High Himself will establish Zion in order to allow all of these people to be treated as born in her.  Jerusalem is the city built upon the hill as a beacon of light for all mankind.  In the previous Psalm, the promise is given that “All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord…” (86:9).  We are all pilgrims, exiles, traveling to our home, for we were born in Zion.  And though, at times, we have lived as enemies of Christ (Eph. 2:11-13; Phil. 3:18), we are among “those who know” God.  We are answering the call to “come and worship the Lord”.

Scripture uses two terms, Zion and Jerusalem, to refer to the same place, but they indicate different aspects of the Holy City.  The word Zion literally means “marked” or “distinctive”.  It refers to the inner qualities that distinguish God’s people.  They are a “people who dwell apart” with their own unique relationship with God.  Jerusalem, on the other hand, indicates the holy city’s function as a spiritual center, reaching out to, and influencing the nations of the world.  Jerusalem is the means by which the Godly spirit found in Zion penetrates the inner life of distant peoples.  In short: “Zion” looks inward at the city’s significance for the Jewish people, while “Jerusalem” looks outward at the city’s external role as a spiritual focal point for the entire world.  Therefore, our pilgrimage to Jerusalem has a two-fold purpose: we are making a careful self-examination and allowing God to transform us, but we are also looking outward and seeking to reach the least, the lost, and the lonely with the light of the Gospel.  

We are citizens of the New Jerusalem, but we are dwelling in the midst of this world, the earthly city.  This city, our world, will pass away.  It is a fallen world.  The New Jerusalem, on the other hand, is stable, eternal, and the dwelling place of God.  It is the city under God’s rule, and hence the city in which we will ultimately come to triumph in Christ.  That is why we are making this Lenten Pilgrimage. 

Introduction

“He has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and transferred us to the Kingdom of His beloved Son.”  — Colossians 1:13

“Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”  — Philippians 3:20

From the days of the early Church, pilgrims have regularly traveled to Jerusalem to replicate the events of Holy Week, the last earthly days of Jesus.  The pilgrimage to Jerusalem became a tradition as early as the fourth century when the emperor Constantine erected a basilica, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, over what was reported to be the site of the Crucifixion.  To worship at this and other holy sites from Jesus’ earthly life many Christians committed to a long and arduous journey to reach Jerusalem.  These pilgrimages had a Lenten character, cleansing the pilgrims spiritually as they traveled the arduous journey which could sometimes take weeks, even months.  Pilgrims would use the physical deprivations on the road to encourage themselves in their renunciation of evil and as an occasion for a fair amount of soul-searching and intense prayer.  The Church continues to describe our observance of the season of Lent as a pilgrimage.  In the invitation to Lent found in the service of Ash Wednesday, the celebrant invites us to “the observance of a holy Lent, by self examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.”  These are the ingredients of our spiritual pilgrimage during the Season of Lent.

The primary purpose of a pilgrimage is change.  A pilgrimage is a journey that changes us.  As much as we don’t like it, change is a cardinal mark of every faithful Christian.  God loves us too much to leave us as we are.  Our sanctification takes place as we struggle with temptation and draw on his grace to repent and return to Him.  We are called to live disciplined spiritual lives, and that is a good thing, though it is not always easy or pleasant.  This transformation is a lifelong process.  We are convicted, our hearts are pierced, we are dragged from our comfort zones, refined by the fire of the Holy Spirit, and made better in and through various means of spiritual transformation.  Lenten exercises are intended to move us from self will into God’s will, to turn our attention from the things of this world and onto the way of life in the New Jerusalem.  We seek to be transformed into the sorts of people who live lives of grace in Christ.  

Scripture tells us that we are pilgrims and exiles on this earth—restless, homeless, and seeking to become less attached to earthly things.  In the Old Testament, the Hebrew word “pilgrimage” derives from the root meaning to “reside temporarily,” and it was applied particularly to residence in a foreign land.  And the Hebrew word for “pilgrim” means “sojourner” or “resident alien.”  In the New Testament, the Greek term for “pilgrim” describes Christians whose final citizenship is in heaven, and who are regarded as temporary dwellers on earth.

As noted in the Scriptures quoted above, as Christians we are citizens of the New Jerusalem, but we currently find ourselves as resident aliens in the foreign environment of this secular world.  And so we are pilgrims on a journey.  We are sojourners moving from this physical world into the promised land of spiritual harmony with our God.  We are citizens of Zion currently dwelling in a foreign land.  And that was the circumstance of the Jewish exiles in the Old Testament who sang the Songs of Ascent we find in Psalms 120 through 134.  Jerusalem was overrun in 597 BC and the Jews were taken to Babylon where they were held captive for seventy years.  When the emperor Cyrus came to the throne, in 538 BC, he allowed the Jewish exiles to begin returning and rebuilding Jerusalem.  As they made their way to the Holy City, they sang the songs of Zion, songs of ascent.  These songs were also later used by the faithful as they made their way to the restored Jerusalem for the major feasts of the Temple.  And we can use them now as songs of praise as we ascend toward the New Jerusalem of which we are citizens.

The Songs of Ascent have a logical progression moving us steadily from exile to union with God.  These are songs of hope.  They give us courage and direction in our journey.  As we make our Lenten pilgrimage we will move progressively closer to our permanent home in the New Jerusalem.  This week of Ash Wednesday, the meditations will set the stage for our journey.  Then each week during Lent we will examine three Songs of Ascent.  In week one we will explore what it means to live in exile.  During the second week we will begin our journey.  In the third week we will enter Zion.  Our fourth week will give us direction on making the New Jerusalem our home.  And the fifth week will be a celebration of praise in the Temple of the New Jerusalem.  Finally, during Holy Week, we will meditate on what it means for us as Christians to truly be residents of the New Jerusalem.

We can learn much from those who made pilgrimages before us.  For example, in 1522 St. Ignatius Loyola set out on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.  It took him over a year and a half to reach the Holy Land from his home in Spain.  He made many stops on the way to seek guidance from Church elders, to meditate on Scripture, and to repent and pray.  A true pilgrim must travel slowly and pause often to get where he wants to go.  If Ignatius had rushed to Jerusalem he would not have been as well prepared to receive the joy God granted him in the Holy Land.  But Ignatius took his time and arrived with an expectant heart, ready to receive God’s blessings.  That pilgrimage changed his life.  There is no journey more important than our Lenten pilgrimage to the New Jerusalem.  This is a time for us to slow our steps and take our time to walk the long road of Ascent.  Pause often.  Let God speak to you through the gift of these Psalms.  This is God’s gift of time to prepare our hearts and come to realize that Jesus is with us and is speaking to us as we walk the road to Zion and ascend to the New Jerusalem.