Thanksgiving

I have the curious habit of reading the Psalms each night from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. I like the language more than any other translation of the Psalms which I have found. And, they're all divided neatly into 'morning' and 'evening' Psalms for each day of the month, which means I don't even have to remember where I'm up to - I just have to remember what the date is. Ultimately I'll have to change and read the morning ones as well, but at the moment I'm chugging on with just the evening ones and getting a lopsided view of the Psalms, no doubt.

Last nights was 106 and it is a tragic Psalm. The Israelites are in exile and they start from the beginning of their history (the Exodus) and recite what has happened. This is a fairly common way for the people of Israel to write poetry - they remember what has happened and link it with their own time and place at the end of the poem. What was different about this Psalm was that the focus was entirely on their sins. So, they start at the Red Sea and remember all the sins, one after another. And they end where they are: in exile, outside of God's land and enduring his anger. It's chilling.

And it's all justified - the Psalm has demonstrated that and it just makes you feel awful as it goes on - you know it's not going to end well as indeed it doesn't. The only thing left is a cry for mercy, which is made at the end. But the cry for mercy is accompanied with a promise of thanksgiving to God and to 'boast' in his name again - so a determination to be his people again and do what his people do: say thank you.

Last night I was grateful for the work of God's Spirit in my live because of Jesus' death for me. I have a long catalogue of sins as well, but they don't define me the way they defined the writers of Psalm 106. I'm defined by grace and mercy. And these should determine the kind of person I am - the person who is thankful to God for this kindness and for all the other things he gives me.