[Note: Today I’ll be reflecting on the Psalm of the day. If you’d prefer a reflection on the Epistle and Gospel of the day, feel free to check out my post from 2021 on these texts.]
A couple of years ago, I was introduced to the term VUCA. It was developed decades ago by the American military to describe situations that were Volatile (subject to rapid change), Uncertain (with unclear outcomes), Complex (containing many interdependent and moving pieces that prevent easy analysis or problem-solving), and Ambiguous (with possible outcomes not having clear meaning and consequences). The interesting — and scary — thing about this is that while this term was originally developed to describe the chaos of the battlefield, it’s becoming more and more applicable to describe the world itself. Long-standing social and political norms are being broken, the climate is changing at an unnatural rate, technology is changing faster than the economy’s and governments’ ability to keep up with it, and on and on — and we have no idea what any of this actually means for us as a society, as a species, and as a planet. It’s bewildering.
Into this chaotic world today come the simple, the opening words of Psalm 125, which are a balm for the soul:
Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,
which cannot be moved, but abides for ever.
As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
so the LORD surrounds his people,
from this time on and for evermore.
In a world where everything is swirling around us at an incredible speed, this Psalm reminds us of the importance of stability — and where our one true source of stability can be found.
On the surface, this may seem to fly in the face with the tenets of dealing with a VUCA environment, which are to become adaptable, flexible, aware of one’s limitations, and increasingly collaborative. But I don’t think it’s quite that simple. To my mind, the two approaches have more of a dialectical relationship, what Steve McIntosh has called a ‘positive-positive polarity’: two opposites that do not cancel each other out, but which exist in a kind of tug-of-war, and both of which are of equal importance. Some examples include competition and cooperation, which need each other in order to be healthy, individuality and community, and emotion and reason. And I’m convinced that adaptability and flexibility need stability in just the same way. Without adaptability and flexibility, stability means stasis and an inability to respond. But without stability, adaptability and flexibility lead to us just becoming part of the chaotic VUCA whirlwind ourselves.
From the perspective of the Psalm, the only true source of stability is in God. The analogy of God surrounding the people as the mountains surround Jerusalem reminds me of the Christian hymn known as St Patrick’s Breastplate, with its rousing ending:
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
This is the ultimate protection which reminds us that, as Paul put it, nothing “in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8.39). It doesn’t mean nothing bad will happen to those who trust in God, but that nothing bad that happens can separate us from God.
The Psalm finishes by describing the stability faith in God offers:
For the sceptre of wickedness shall not rest on the land allotted to the righteous,
so that the righteous may not stretch out their hands to do wrong.
Do good, O LORD, to those who are good,
and to those who are upright in their hearts.
But those who turn aside to their own crooked ways the LORD will lead away with evildoers.
Peace be upon Israel!
In more prosaic language, this is saying that the stability of God keeps the truly faithful from doing wrong — from lashing out in fear or anger, acting rashly or in a way that doesn’t align with faithfulness to God. It then asks God to do good those who are good in return. This is essentially the definition of that faith relationship I’ve been going on about for years now: that faith means living in strong, reciprocal relationships with God, others, ourselves, and the world around us. And we know that God is always faithful, no matter what. Even if the world feels like it’s falling apart around us, God is still working for our good. The life of faith brings shalom, not just peace as an absence of strife, but the presence of healthy, healed, and whole relationships.
In an increasingly chaotic world, filled with ups and downs, unexpected reversals, and all kinds of drama, God remains constant. Ever present, ever loving, ever gracious. And in God we find our strength and capacity to be present, loving, and gracious ourselves no matter what the world may throw at us.
