A Contemporary Psalter

I've found it cathartic that the Psalms for at least the first half of this week's Daily Office have been of the "Song of Ascents" variety, and most have dealt with the psalmists deep, heartfelt cries to God out of the depths of despair, confusion, pain, and complacency. Here are some statements that mark several of the psalms so far this week:

"In my distress I cry to the Lord, that he may answer me..."
"I lift my eyes to the hills - from where will my help come?"
"Look on my misery and rescue me, for I do not forget your law. Plead my cause and redeem me; give me life according to your promise."

Indeed, the problems of many of these psalmists (and the people several of them surely represent) are different from what I go through today. However, this week these psalms have served as both a salve and a reminder of present frustrations. Leigh and I are both frustrated with the lack of close friends we have here in Houston. It is understandably depressing when I lament my lack of confidants, as I am brand new to this town. However, Leigh has grown up here and even she finds it difficult to name people near our own age that we can spend time with, discuss relevant issues, and experience the benefits of community together.

Stepping out of seminary and back into the real world can be quite depressing. You find quickly that most of the issues and subjects you cared about with great passion - many times with tears and sweat and feelings not unlike the passions of the psalmists - the real world you are reentering doesn't really care about at all. There aren't a lot of people around me - even in the church - that would enjoy discussing the Trinity, or even something lighter like the relationship between Scripture and theology, the value of art as an expression of faith, etc.

Mainly, Leigh and I both miss having like-minded friends. Community is shaped by many people, and I do not deny this. I would not want my community of believers - a.k.a. the church - to be solely made up of people near the same age (as many mega-churches are doing these days by breaking up their congregation into sub-groups with their own pastors and worship areas). However, there is something to be said for spending time with people who are facing the same concerns and ponderings as your own. There is not much I hold in common with the middle-aged father of three who makes six figures and lives in an upscale suburb. To assume a relationship with this person is going to meet all of my needs - and his - is ridiculous.

There are gaps in my church community, and I'm not referring merely to the floundering youth group, which averages one student on Wednesday nights and three on Sunday morning. There are no college students, only one or two occasional attenders who qualify as "college-age students," and very few "singles" (I hate the term as well, but this is the title most churches attribute to unattached men and women between the ages of 23-34).

It is difficult, because I look at nearby communities like First Baptist, Second Baptist, and Lakewood, and I see them getting bigger and bigger. Second Baptist is perfecting the splintered congregation, going so far now as to buy out an upscale shopping center near their church that will become their new "Singles" class hub. Not unlike the psalmists, I battle feelings of bitterness and jealousy all day long. I don't want River Oaks Baptist to splinter, but I do wish we could grow and become a more cohesive community, representing all groups and allowing for growth both across age-group lines as well as within.

These are the present frustrations - these are the things that perpetuate the tightness in my chest and the sorrowfulness that visits me in the late evenings when I pray tight-fistedly for growth (yes, even numerical growth) in my community, if only to have a strong home to which I can run and be completely, gracefully understood.

I punctuate this post with the words of an occasional modern-day psalmist:

"Will you comfort me in my time of need?
Can you take away the pain of hurtful deeds?
'Cause when we need it most there's no rain at all
and the dust just settles right there on the feed.
Will you say to me, 'A little rains gonna come,'
when the sky can't offer none to me.
'Cause I will comfort you when my days are through,
and I'll let your smile just off and carry me."
- Ryan Adams, from the song "In My Time of Need"