Forget Me Not

Psalm 137

Our church is in it's 4th week of a new study group, also known as bible study. I had to get used to not calling it a bible study, because although we are discussing biblical topics, we are not opening a bible to do so. In this study group we've so far discussed biblical literalism, personal fundamentalism, and image of God. It's been an interesting journey so far, and we have about 18 more topics to go.

The study is done through a mix of short readings, video "testimonies", and discussion - lots of discussion. It's within the discussion those of us in the group are finding an awakening, of sorts. So far we've heard praises and self-realizations about how liberating it finally is to be in a group which allows them to ask the questions without having the fears that come along with not knowing the answers.

Yesterday, our group discussed the image of God. One of the video commentators mentioned that to him the image of God is likened to the first memory of his parents. I thought about that and went really deep into my memory for the earliest thoughts of my parents. The memory I came up with was that of my mom walking my brother and me along a busy roadside, trying to get us home. I might have been around 3 or 4 years old and all I remember is being very afraid of being as close to the roadside as we were and how the cars seemed to be whizzing by at rates of speed I just knew were dangerous.

In that memory, I also see my mother clinging to my brother, holding him in one arm while she held my hand tightly, standing between me and the road. On that day, as afraid as I was, I somehow knew that nothing would happen to my brother and me as long as my mother walked with, and held on to, us.

I hope that memory never goes away.

In much a similar way, today's psalmist is hoping for the same. The Israelites have had their city destroyed and are  being held captive in a foreign land. In those days the people believed that their God lived in their land, and could not move freely with them. In other words, this psalmist understands his situation to mean that they no longer have a home or a God to protect them.

In a moment when they are resting alongside the road in their captor's home, the psalmist reflects on his God. He imagines the final days of being at home, of being in a time when things were better. However, things are not good now and the psalmist passionately expresses his sorrow of not being able to sing the songs of his people or his God in a home that belongs to the psalmist. Rather, he is being forced to sing a song in a place he doesn't want to be.

The psalmist also reflects how the thought of a song can bring hope that someday his people will return home and once again live in the safety and security of his God. I really don't remember much more about that walk along the roadside from my earlier days. What I do know is I must have made it home, and for that I am thankful to have had someone protect me from the danger I felt I was in.

One thing we're discovering in this new group is that God lives within us and speaks to each of us differently. Our songs go wherever we go, and can be sung anytime we want them to be. God is not going to be forgotten by us. God will not forget us. That's a wonderful reason to sing, don't you think.