Serenity Now!

God is our refuge and our strength, a very present  help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,

though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble with its tumult. --Psalm 46, verses 1-3

Most of us say some version of the Serenity prayer to ourselves at least once a day. Several times on some days. You know it: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and  the wisdom to know the difference.”  It’s easy enough to say. Seems simple. But it’s really the hardest work of our lives because, if we’re paying attention, far too much happens that is unacceptable, horrifying, tragic, painful, and even evil. And as people of faith aren’t we called in our baptism vows to be instruments of God’s justice, mercy, and love in this broken and hurting world? Aren't we called to change the things we can't accept? We form committees, organize protests, write rules of order for governance, make casseroles, stock food pantries, feed hungry people, create safe havens for those who are unhoused or abused, and we create beautiful liturgy for worship. Our “change the things I can” list can get really long, really fast.

The Psalmist in Psalm 46 has nothing against faithful work and ambitious to-do lists, but he knows that we often forget the part of the prayer that is  just as important: “Accept  the things I cannot change.” This isn’t a call to be complacent  and let the chips of injustice fall where they may. But it is a call to remember that we are not God.  In much  more sweeping and poetic language than the serenity prayer’s, the Psalmist , much like a good sponsor, gives us a cheat sheet for navigating life: Scary things will happen that we can’t control; God is present for us and through us; As people of faith,  we are called to discern how to respond. So before we put everyone else’s oxygen masks on but our own, and  hit rock bottom  trying to prove that we aren’t  powerless and  helpless in the face of hard things, the Psalmist tells it to us straight: The earth changes. The mountains shake and fall into the heart of the sea. The sea’s waters roar and foam. Mountains tremble. Nations are always in an uproar. Kingdoms always totter. The things we think will last forever won’t. They can’t. Things pass away. Bad things happen to good people. We are not in control.

But that's not the end of the story. It's not the last word. Here’s what we know about who God is: There is no where we can go, and no desolate valley we can go through, where God is not. God will always be God. He will always provide refuge. He will always be our strength. He will always show up and help us in our trouble. He will make us glad. He will always utter his voice in order to speak life into desolate places. He will be with us. We aren't left to wonder what God's dream for creation is, because the Psalmist reminds us: God makes wars to cease, breaks the bow, shatters the spear, and burns shields with fire,  In other words, our God works for peace and flourishing, not for war and division.  He is a God who creates, not a God who destroys. So now we know what we can’t  control. We know what God can do in and through us. Now for the most important to-do list of all— our response. This list is the short. but is so hard that we can't do it without God's help: Do not fear; Behold God’s works; and be still and know that God is God.

God is exalted in all the earth. God, not us. So when we find ourselves burned out, run down, overwhelmed by the hard things, and wondering what to do and where to turn, we need to pray through our cheat sheet—Psalm 46. We need to write it on our hearts. Hard and terrible things will happen,  but God is always at work in and through us bringing life into desolate places. Look for the helpers, the beauty, the compassion, and the peacemaking. Do not fear. Love one another.  Hold one another. Feed one another. Comfort one another.  Stand  up for one another. Pray with and for one another. Worship together. Reach out and be honest when you need  help. These are all beautiful ways of beholding and participating in God’s work in the world. These are the things we can control. But above all, we need to remember to be still and know that we are not God. We  need to be held. We  need to let go. We need to let God be our refuge. We need to quiet ourselves long enough to listen for God’s still, small voice, which whispers "You are my beloved. ALL of you." These steps require us to surrender control--to acknowledge that we have limits. Taking these steps requires the wisdom to know the difference between who we are and who God is. When we do, the hard things will not disappear, but we will find the strength, hope, guidance, and community we will need to speak love into the midst of those hard things. In those holy moments, heaven and earth mingle. Then we will know, deep in our bones, that the Lord of Hosts is with us. Therefore we will not fear. We will find serenity now.