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| Thursday, February 28, 2008
So indie it hurts. Writer : Lam YishanThe heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, Their words to the end of the world. In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat. The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul. The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple. The precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart. The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes. The fear of the Lord is pure, enduring forever. The ordinances of the Lord are sure and altogether righteous. They are more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb. By them is your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward. Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression. May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. PS19. Imagine David, [in my opinion] possibly the world's first independent singer-songwriter, putting these words together when he is out in the open, alone with his lute and his lambs. In the absence of interlocutors, for him everything speaks. His imagination overruns itself, and he pictures the whole world as the great big habitation of this love relationship, configuring the sun as this all-encompassing force for good. Because it doesn't care where it shines, it simply does, radiating goodness upon everyone, with its "I-can't-help-but-love-you", athletic bravado. Somehow, since everything is apparent under the glare, reflexivity sets in, and he contemplates himself, his behaviours and attitudes. Perhaps somehow, something might have escaped self-awareness? So he asks that he would be ok, God, please, if that's all right. + + +  Independence Day. Charles River, Boston, 4th July 2005. + + + Then everything goes up in smoke. Fast forward to track 51, where perhaps he goes up and out to open space once again, to compose an apology for his gross errors, after the prophet Nathan comes up to him over Bathshebagate. Faults have come to light; sins committed willfully; he has made that great transgression. Kena bigtime. How can? Why has scripture transmitted this spectacular failure to us? Why did the divine assembler of words put it there? How easily men slip from high places, and how rare to find someone who willingly places themselves under God's judgment. The truth is, we are all royal basket cases. And since the heart is so deceitful, we simply cannot understand it. Nothing escapes self-awareness because we are simply never self-aware. That makes repentance in a person a precious thing. And so it really doesn't matter how you colour it on the outside. Man needs a laundering, inside and out, and only God can do the washing. Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and justified when you judge. Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will turn back to you. Save me from bloodguilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing of your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. In your good pleasure make Zion prosper; build up the walls of Jerusalem. Then there will be righteous sacrifices, whole burnt offerings to delight you; then bulls will be offered on your altar. PS51. The Psalms were quoted from the NIV version. Shan is a arts educator and researcher worshipping at FCBC. She can be contacted at divinaspalavras@yahoo.com
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