Last week in my prayer group at Westminster Seminary, I was asked to bring a scripture reading. We had been singing Psalm 121 in Hebrew in our Hebrew class, so I thought it would be good to hear it in English. While reading it, I was struck by the repetition (in the ESV) of the word “keep.” The psalmist wanted us to get the idea that we dwell securely because we are “kept” people.

That runs so counter to the independent spirit of our day. Divorce has become fairly acceptable because we wouldn’t think of having anyone be “kept” by a relationship that they’d fallen out of desire for. We change churches like we change grocery stores because we don’t want to be “kept” by any set doctrine or disciplining relationships.

But the Bible tells us that it is only in being kept by an unsleeping Keeper that we are truly free.

A post by Michaela about Deitrich Bonhoeffer reminded me of a poem he wrote while imprisoned by the Nazi’s. When you get to the end, you’ll see that one of Bonhoeffer’s secrets was that he knew who his real “Keeper” was.

Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
Freely and friendly and clearly,
As though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
Equally, smilingly, proudly,
Like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectation of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?

Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.

Whoever I am, Thou knowest, 0 God, I am Thine!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 6th, 2004 at 12:18 am and is filed under Christian Community, Theology. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.