Psalm 27

One thing I ask of Adonai, only that do I seek: to live in the house of Adonai all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of Adonai, to frequent God’s temple. (27:4)

This verse brings out a particular religious tension for some. The question is to what extent should a religious tradition encourage its followers to seek complete union with the Divine at every moment such that one is living one’s life entirely in God’s house; versus encouraging its followers to live their lives in service to their fellow humans. At first glance, the Psalmist seems to be living on the side of withdrawal from the world in favor of exclusive union with God.

I learned many years ago from a kind and gentle Buddhist named Ken Wells that this is a needless dichotomy. One can be in meditation all day long while at the same time engaging with one’s job, one’s family, and all of the other tasks of one’s life. Being in intimate awareness of God does not preclude also being intimately aware of human needs.

Not that I have even come close to mastering what I need to do to maintain a meditative mind while taking phone calls, answering email, studying Torah, and taking care of a family. But periodically I come back to this verse, especially to a beautiful melody by Yoni Ganout (you can hear several versions here), and use it as a way to refocus myself when I feel myself becoming distracted and and impatient.

When we begin losing our equilibrium and becoming flustered or angry, taking a breath and narrowing our focus can help. “Just one thing do I ask. I am not asking for help juggling the dozen tasks and concerns on my plate – just help me with one thing. Help me to remember that God’s presence is at the center of everything I do. Help me to remember that the world I am living in is God’s house and the people who are demanding things of me are God’s people. Help me to remember that it is X days until Shabbat, when for 25 hours I can step away from many of the demands on my life and hang out for a few hours at shul among people whom I like.”

Psalm 26

Probe me, Adonai, and test me, test my kidneys and my heart; (26:2)

When you reach a certain age, you begin to wonder whether the Psalmist is having a wry chuckle at your expense. At that point in your life, when the main social event of your week is visiting another doctor’s office, when every organ and orifice is being poked and prodded and tested and medicated, it’s hard to believe that the Psalmist is seriously and happily inviting God to get in line and take a turn!

Though amusing it would be, happily is not the case. God leaves the poking and prodding to human doctors. In the Biblical idiom, kidneys referred to the seat of strong emotions, and the heart referred to the seat of the intellect. A less literal and far more accurate translation of the verse would therefore be, “Probe me, Adonai, and test me, test my feelings and my thoughts.”

The Psalmist is challenging God to examine the purity of his actions, down to the last intention. A Midrash teaches that the Ark of the Covenant was covered in gold both outside, where it’s beauty could be seen, and inside, where it would never be seen, to remind us that we too should be the same outside and in. Our actions should be positive as should our motives. We should be truthful both to others and to ourselves. We should be the same person when we deal with friends and strangers, family and outsiders, members of our tribe and foreigners, alike. Ironically, the outside of the ark was rarely if ever seen – it was kept in the most sacred of places, and visited but once a year on Yom Kippur by the High Priest. Our additional challenge is strive for purity of actions and motives even when we know that no one is watching, that no one will ever see or know what we have done – except, of course, the Blessed Holy One, who we invite to keep an eye on us to help keep us honest.

Psalm 23

Only goodness and steadfast love shall pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of Adonai for many long years. (23:6)

Psalm 23 is one of the most well know and often quote of the Psalms. The words feel comforting, as long as don’t consider them too deeply. Take the opening line, for example: “The Lord is my Shepherd ….” What does a shepherd do for his flocks? Sure, he takes care of them and protects them from predators. But he also sheers them and occasionally slaughters them for food!

Is verse 6 of this Psalm, quoted above, a description of the life of a faithful member of God’s flock? It seems unlikely. Who among us experiences only good, loving events over the course of his life? Who among us never feels the cold hand of hatred, racism, anti-semitism, discrimination? Who among us is treated only fairly, never gets the short end of the stick?

I prefer to understand the verse above as a prayer – “May goodness and steadfast love pursue me all the days of my life, and may I dwell in the house of Adonai for many long years.” I acknowledge that my life is not going to be full of perfection and light, but I will keep working to find the greenest of pastures, the purest of water to rest by.

Psalm 23 has traditionally been associated not only with funerals, but also with the end of Shabbat. As we eat our final Shabbat meal and the emotional peacefulness of the day draws to a close, I read this Psalm as a prayer that I might hold onto the taste of the messianic olam haba, the world to come, for just a bit longer.

May we someday experience a world in which no one lacks the basic necessities of life.

Psalm 22

Because of You I offer praise in the great congregation; I pay my vows in the presence of His worshipers. (22:26)

The movement of “Spiritual But Not Religious” defines itself as a search for spiritual growth and fulfillment without attachment to a specific religious community. On the contrary, I believe that the highest spiritual growth can only occur within a community. The Psalmist believes that both celebrations ought to be held within a congregation, and the duties that one owes ought to be paid within a community.

One’s spiritual peak by definition ought to be the negation of self, subsuming oneself into the larger body of being and energy of the community, the world, the universe. Arriving at a radical understanding of unity means that not only God is one, but that God, the universe, and one’s life are bound together in a singular unity. Nothing we do is in a vacuum. Every action we take has repercussions that echo around us.

Doing spiritual work on one’s own is the ultimate focus on oneself, making oneself the center of the universe. Rather than humbling the self, this tends to inflate the ego. Placing oneself in community, for work, worship, study, and celebration, forces a person to look at other’s needs alongside or above his or her own. It is a reminder for us that we are not the center of the universe.

Psalm 21

You have granted him the desire of his heart, have not denied the request of his lips. (21:3)

Wanting is encoded into our DNA. Rabbinic thought teaches that the human being is created with two inclinations – the Yetzer Hatov (altruistic inclination) and the Yetzer Hara (selfish inclination). The rabbis said that were it not for the Yetzer Hara, a person would not marry or build a home. Our impulse towards wanting our needs to be taken care of is built into us from birth. A baby wants to be fed, warm, and dry. A baby learns that certain behaviors cause mom and dad to pay more attention – both crying and looking adorably cute seem work well – and he uses those behaviors at will until his wants and desires are satisfied. Over time, a toddler learns that other people also have needs, and her wants sometimes need to wait. She learns patience. She learns that how she asks for something is important – omitting the magic word please and not using the pleasant tone of voice results in not getting what she wants. Over time, a child learns the pleasures of taking care of someone else, drawing pictures, giving gifts to Mom and Dad. He learns that sometimes, no matter how nicely he asks, there are some things that he wants that he is not going to receive. A young adult learns that no one gets everything they want. Everyone yearns and desires and asks, and more often than not, does not receive.

The wise person learns pay attention to one’s wants, to examine whether they are truly needs, or just the hard to control impulses of the Yetzer Hara. The wise person asks for things that are beyond physical whims, things prompted by an enduring need. The wise person asks for things that are within his power to achieve.

The wise person filters out those things that are motivated by the selfish desires of the Yetzer Hara. The prayers and requests of the wise person, therefore, are directed by the Yetzer Hatov, and are largely motivated by a desire to relieve the suffering of others. May such prayers never be denied.