Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Who may live on your holy hill?

a grassy hill against the sky
The old saying goes "familiarity breeds contempt." In my experience, though, it's more likely to breed complacency: We tend to take the people we know best for granted. We don't even notice street signs on roads we regularly drive.

And we rarely notice anything new in our favorite Bible passages. So it's nice, if a little jarring, when one of them jumps up and grabs us with something we've never seen before.

Years ago I decided to stop memorizing isolated verses and learn longer passages. Psalm 15 was one of the first passages I memorized. It's short, only 5 verses, and pretty straightforward. In the probably 10 years since then I've read or recited it to myself innumerable times. I've meditated on it while running on the treadmill and lying in bed. So it'd be natural to feel like you've "got it down."

LORD, who may dwell in your sanctuary?
   Who may live on your holy hill?

He whose walk is blameless
   and who does what is righteous,
   who speaks the truth from his heart
and has no slander on his tongue,
   who does his neighbor no wrong
   and casts no slur on his fellowman,
who despises a vile man but honors those who fear the LORD,
   who keeps his oath even when it hurts,
who lends his money without interest
   and does not accept a bribe against the innocent.

He who does these things will never be shaken. (NIV84)

Who is welcome to visit with God in his sanctuary? "He whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous." Wait, none of us do that!

Relax. It's not talking about that. Paul once mentioned that his "righteousness based on the law" was "faultless" (Phil 3:6). Several people in the Bible are described as righteous in this way, including Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:5-6). This is not being morally perfect, the kind of righteousness described in Romans. This is following the Law of Moses to the best of your ability and keeping up the sacrifices for when you couldn't. These people aren't morally pure; they're forgiven sinners.

How do these blameless people live? The rest of the Psalm describes their behavior, how they treat the people around them.

The other day I was sitting and reading this Psalm for the umpteenth time, and something struck me: In the end, it really doesn't ask that much.

What is God asking here? What does he require of those he allows into his sanctuary? No slaying infidels, no dangerous journeys. You don't have to give all you have to the poor or become a monk.

Be honest.
Be kind.
Respect the godly, not the ungodly.
Keep your word.
Be generous.
Don't pervert justice.

I can do that. You can do that.

When David wrote this, the veil was still in place. God cared about sin then, and he cares about it now. But "he remembers we are dust" (Ps 103:14). And he wants those who sincerely seek to follow him to draw near.

Now the veil is torn. We have full access to the God who made and redeemed us. We have been washed clean in Christ. Let's take full advantage of the awesome privilege we have.

And when you come to one of those passages you feel you know oh so well, don't let yourself become complacent. The most familiar passages can still hide unearthed treasure.


Image via Pixabay

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