I'll Fly Away

05Jun
O Lord, you are my portion and my cup; it is you who uphold my lot.

My boundaries enclose a pleasant land; indeed, I have a goodly heritage.

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel; my heart teaches me, night after night.

I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand I shall not fall.

My heart, therefore, is glad, and my spirit rejoices; my body also shall rest in hope.

For you will not abandon me to the grave, nor let your holy one see the Pit.

You will show me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy, and in your right hand are pleasures for evermore.

Psalm 16:5-11


The Psalm readings for today are exactly what I needed. Psalm 105 retells the history of God’s people from Abraham to David. And Psalm 16 testifies to faith and hope—all made possible through God. 


As I write this, one of the matriarchs of my extended family is lying in hospice. Her body is frail and weakened by cancer. She sleeps, aided by pain medication. She is one of the most devout Jews I have known. The Psalms poetic review of her heritage would, I think, please her. She is Bronx born and raised and still speaks with a New York inflection. She is a hippie through and through—pure sixties counterculture. She has lived in Vermont raising chickens and, before New Orleans, called the Bay Area home. I don’t actually know if she frequented Haight Ashbury, but I picture her there. 


If you have spotted a silver-haired woman, sometimes sporting braided pigtails, with a wise wizened face, bright blue eyes, enrobed in flowing colorful dresses or tie-dyed pants with a Willow School t-shirt, motoring around uptown in a turquoise hatchback, you have seen her. You may have also seen her at art shows or cheering for her grandsons on numerous Carrollton sidelines, or volunteering as Room Grandmother at their school. She loves all things Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest where she will boogie through the weekend at the Blues Tent. But her favorite is St. Patrick's Day because it falls on her birthday. I have observed her taking shots of Jameson from strangers with relish and joyfully making her way down Magazine Street chasing cabbages thrown by the parade.


She is a holy woman. She has modeled her faith to me in ways large and small over the past ten years. She teaches Sunday School at her Temple and cherishes Jewish rituals and history—the awful and the more awful. As she summarizes each Passover: “They tried to kill us, we survived, LET’S EAT.” 


Psalm 16 hits different as we hold this precious woman in our hearts as she prepares to exit this world. I’d like to think, in the depths of her sleep, she is reciting this Psalm:

 

For you will not abandon me to the grave…

You will show me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy


Oh, my dear one, may it be so. God bless. Godspeed. And as you say each Passover, “Next year in Jerusalem.” Not the city of our here and now, but the majestic Jerusalem of God’s Kingdom. Please save us a seat at your table. 


Musical Reflection- "I’ll Fly Away" from Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

O Lord, you are my portion and my cup; it is you who uphold my lot. You will show me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy, and in your right hand are pleasures for evermore. Amen

PsalmsAscensionHealing

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