I run in the path of your commands,
for you have set my heart free. (Psalm 119:32, NIV)
I’m tempted to add nothing, and let this verse speak for itself. If we were together, I would ask you to tell me what you think when you read this. Does it excite you? move you?
I’m not a runner–I’d rather walk two miles than run one (supposing I could do even that!). Still, this verse speaks to me. I remember the first time I read it (about 15 years ago), working my way through Psalm 119 and being brought to a halt. For one, the verse is markedly different in tone from what’s come so far. Most of the first 31 verses are prayers or requests of God, and this particular section of the psalm begins with “I am laid low in the dust.”
Second, believers don’t run much in Scripture. In both Old and New Testaments, the idea of walking before God is a common image of faith. Paul does write about running the race in several letters, but generally, when the Bible tells us that someone runs, its the sinner running toward evil. This psalm begins with the idea of walking in God’s ways. Suddenly, we hear the psalmist saying he runs.
All that’s interesting (at least to us English-major types), but the root of my surprise at this verse was that, 15 years ago, I couldn’t imagine saying these words myself. I was in bad shape, and my heart was anything but free. I was, to put it simply, a mess. But this verse spoke to me, showed me something I had never imagined.
For me, run suggests ease. You can walk on a difficult path, taking your time over the rough places, but you don’t run. For that, you need smooth ground, an even surface. I loved God, but walking in His ways was not easy for me. If you read Psalm 119 through a filter of legalism (as I did), it’s a nightmare. There are words and commands and decrees and laws and testimonies and statutes and precepts–and he talks about them for 176 verses! How in the world do you manage that?
Add to this legalistic bondage (compounded by a major streak of perfectionism) bondages of emotional immaturity, addictive behaviors, fear, and the general stupidity of most young adults, and you’ll see that I was bound up and down, inside and out, every which way.
And so running in God’s will because my heart was free was a novel concept. And very attractive. It was as if the Holy Spirit was saying, “Here’s what I want for you, Dan. You don’t know it yet, you’re not sure if you’ve ever even seen it, but this is the goal. This is how you can live.”
I’d like to tell you that three months later I was there. Yeah, right! It was probably another 7 or 8 years before I could say that my heart was free and that serving God was easy. The time it took doesn’t really matter, though. What’s important is that I can say–not just read or recite, but actually say, “I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Tagged as:
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I saw V for Vendetta Tuesday night; it’s about the overthrow of a totalitarian government. It’s also very much about the power of fear. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that oppressive governments trade in fear–Iraq under Saddam Hussein is a clear picture of that. V for Vendetta did a better job of making this clear than other films I’ve seen in this genre, in part because Evey, the main character, has to overcome her own fears to make a difference in the world around her.
What stood out to me most is a statement, fairly early in the story, that the citizens allowed the oppressive government to come in. In the world of V, the chancellor was elected, so on the most literal level the people of Britain did allow their own oppression. But the bigger point the film makes is that they allowed it because of fear. The chancellor preyed on their fears of disease, anarchy, difference–a range of physical, political, and moral threats–and got the people to trade their freedom for “safety.”
This got me thinking about myself and the spiritual dimensions of oppression. When have I traded my freedom because of fear? Though we don’t actually verbalize it, we make alliances with the enemy out of fear. We hear God calling us to step out–maybe something as simple as speaking about our faith to a non-Christian. And almost immediately, we also hear the voice of fear: what if they reject you? what if you offend them? It’s safer just to keep quiet. And so we trade our freedom for a supposed safety that is borne of fear.
But here’s the catch: the “safety” we’ve opted for is no safety at all. It’s confinement. Because the next time we are faced with the opportunity, it will be just that much easier to trade freedom–to trade opportunity–for fear and “safety”. V shows that the safer the people are, the more restricted their lives become.
Israel in the wilderness is a good example of this: given a choice between the uncertainty of the Promised Land and the relative safety of oppression in Egypt, they wanted oppression. But of course, they didn’t phrase it that way. Few of us, if offered a choice between oppression and freedom would opt for oppression. Instead, they thought of the “cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic” (Numbers 11:5). From our perspective, it’s easy to make fun of them for ignoring the realities of forced labor and infanticide. But I’m not so sure we are all that different.
I find it interesting that God keeps telling Joshua to be strong and courageous, to not fear (see Joshua 1). Joshua had already proved himself a mighty warrior; he had been with Moses for years and seen the works of God. We would think that Joshua wouldn’t have a fear problem, but clearly he did. And I take great comfort in that! If Joshua had all this experience of God’s power and still needed some encouragement to not fear, then I don’t have to be so hard on myself for feeling some fear along the way.
The key, it seems to me, is perspective. Time and again, the Israelites looked at things the wrong way and so made wrong choices–think of Caleb and Joshua versus the other ten spies. Moving beyond fear doesn’t require that we ignore or downplay the very real risks–but it does mean weighing the costs of the supposed safety versus the costs of stepping out. In V for Vendetta, the citizens finally rose up because they saw an example of courage and they started to see their “safety” for what it was: oppression.
That’s my prayer: clear vision. Jesus said, “you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). I get clear vision–I get freedom–when I know the truth.
Father, I want clear vision, I want Your perspective on my choices. Show me where I have traded my freedom for fear. Help me to see the truth. And help me to be strong and courageous so that I can have all You promised me.
Tagged as:
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Charis means grace, and that’s what this blog is about: grace, in all its—sometimes messy, always magnificent—manifestations. I’m Dan Butcher, and I invite you to join me in learning to lead a Christ-centered, grace-filled life. 
Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version ®, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.