The world is in moral chaos in Psalm 12. Righteous people are nowhere to be found. People lie to their neighbors, speaking with deceptive hearts and flattering lips. The poor groan under oppression. The wicked prowl. What is vile is exalted and praised.
In the middle of this wreckage, the poet praises the words of the Lord: "The words of the Lord are pure words, like silver refined in an earthen furnace, purified seven times." This purity is our salvation.
There is a habit of mind among many Christians to view the "the Law" of the Old Testament as something bad and to be avoided. Much of this comes from a poor and thin reading of Paul, especially the book of Galatians. But a lot of the harsh things Paul says about the Law in Galatians he nuances in the book of Romans, where he's clear to describe the law as spiritual, holy, and good. That idea is very Jewish and agrees with Psalm 12.
For the words of the Lord are pure. The words of the Lord are direction, wisdom, counsel, and guidance. Especially in a world that has gone mad.
And yet, my sense is that this sentiment from Psalm 12 sounds old-fashioned and archaic to many of us. Preachy. Moralistic. Finger-wagging. Judgy. Reprimanding. Paternalistic. In Jana's film studies class this semester she's having her students watch "Rebel Without a Cause," the first of a series of movies she's showing to explore "coming of age" themes in film history. Who wants to listen to and obey the "words of the Lord" when everything in our culture forms us to be rebels without a cause?
Goodness, I sound like an grumpy old man writing all this. This isn't a sermon I tend to preach. All I'm trying to do today is inhabit that ancient Hebrew conviction that the oracles of God come to us a grace, gift, salvation, and rest. And what strikes me in this is how strange and dissonant this imagination is, for both myself and the world at large.
We're all James Dean now.
