How we eat directs our feet
Why I think King David was a foodie as I continue to transcribe Ps 119
I’ve been transcribing Psalm 119 as part my morning routine. (On Wednesdays, for the last few years, I’ve scratched out the poems in my own handwriting in the early morning light, with coffee. I’m in the midst of the big one).
Here are a few takeaways from my fourth session, as I transcribed verses 97-112. I hope the reflections bless you in the midst of your busy life.
This portion contains one of the most famous passages of all the Psalms, a verse I love and, some years ago, that came to life for me in a strange and dramatic way.
Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light to my path.
~ Ps. 119:105
The unforgettable experience took place on a mountain. Kinabalu, Malaysia’s highest peak. I went there to do the famous sunrise trek. The last few hours of the climb to the summit of Kinabalu were miles I walked alone. No longer in the humid, lush rainforest, it was cold. The path stark and jagged granite.
The verse not only became a goad to finish the journey, but it morphed into physical reality so that a truth I knew became something I actually experienced. Did I enter the verse itself, crossing the space-time continuum and landing like a Hanna-Barbera character into the actual Bible?
Scientists are still unsure.
In my first reflection on Psalm 119, I highlighted how Amy Grant popularized the passage in our era and that many people, myself included, read this Psalm, simply for that verse. It’s a legit option, but I strongly recommend reading the chapter from start to finish and paying attention to the metaphors that appear in this passage.
Sweet like honey; moving feet
Leonard Sweet writes that, “Metaphors function in life the way what scientists call ‘Strange Attractors’ function in physics. These singularities bring order out of chaos, organize the conscious mind….”1
The metaphors fly at you fast throughout this Psalm, and Sweet is right, they help the reader organize and cling to the author’s intent. Two metaphors pop off the page in this section and are worth grabbing hold of. I think of them as the big hand holds on a rock climbing.
(My kids like to climb walls whenever they get a chance. Here’s what I mean):
Nourishment and journeying are the figures of speech to notice here.
Was David a foodie?
God’s word is like food. It sustains and tastes good.
How sweet are your words to my taste
sweeter than honey to my mouth! (103)
Nourishment is a theme of this passage. David doesn’t just think of the food he’s fed as something practical. He’s not looking for plain oatmeal that will stick to his ribs to get through the day, a pragmatic fuel for the body to survive. The words he meditates on are more than that. They’re rich, delicious, tasty.
His is a trained palette that enjoys the sweetness and flavours of the text.
There’s something joyful about reading scripture for the psalmist. It’s a meal that has flavourful profiles, texture, and taste. If you take time to reflect on the verse above, you get a sense that, like good food which is thoughtfully prepared with fresh ingredients, plated with creativity, consumed in fellowship, so too is God’s word for the consumer.
We often race through the drive-thru to get our quick nutrient hit as we go about our busy day. A popular verse here, a quick proverb there. What happens when we make ourselves chew the 40 chews per mouthful that scientists recommend, and take time to savour what we swallow?
How we eat directs our feet
The answer to the leading question above is in my pithy little heading: How we eat really does direct our feet. God’s word brings flavour and direction. That’s because it is a lamp that lights up the darkness, revealing the single step ahead that we should take.
A key trope throughout Psalm 119 is that life with God, living according to his word, is a way, a path that we walk. You can’t avoid this metaphor, especially if you take time to read the big one verse by verse.
Where you put your feet matters:
I hold back my feet from every evil way (101)
I do no turn away from your ordinances (102)
What’s so interesting to me about these verses is the implication, what’s not said. There’s an interplay between the reader and the Word here. David is highlighting that the law of God helps define where he should not go. As David avoids the pitfalls and booby traps, keeping himself from them, a path is revealed.
Note that this is off-the-page. There isn’t a footnote for David or each of us., Do this, Andrew, this is your life’s purpose.” Instead the journey is revealed step over step as the narrator starts sharing the way personally, between the lines of the text, as we avoid the dead ends, hazards, and cliff drops clearly defined.
This was my lived experience in the wild and personal way the lamp unto my feet passage came alive on Mt. Kinabalu.
Can we just talk about David’s confidence for a minute?
David has such a confidence and boldness. Sometimes it’s almost offensive, especially for us readers in an age of cynicism and doubt. Like, “Okay dude, pull back a bit, settle down.”
David asserts that he is:
Wiser than his enemies (98)
Has more understanding than all his teachers (99)
Understands more than the aged (100)
It’s not even a humblebrag. It’s a matter of fact to him! But each of these statements is a conceit connected to and dependent upon something that does not originate from himself.
He is wiser than his enemies because the commandments are always with him (98).
He has more understanding because God’s decrees are his meditation (99).
He understands more than the aged because he keeps God’s precepts (100).
These aren’t bold claims about who he is so much as they are truths he is speaking over his life that come from the word of God itself so that his reality, mindset, and view of his own self aligns with God’s view of him. Which is pretty incredible.
Reflecting on God’s word brings wisdom, setting the individual apart. In this age of cynicism and doubt, what do you think about that?
It’s easy to reject statements like that on their face, because we know, inherently, that they aren’t true in our natural state. And yet we can walk right into the reality, receiving that very standing. What David just did there, declaring truth over himself about who he is because of God’s word, is an incredible tactic to use if you feel terrible about yourself, where you’ve been, or what you just walked through.
We can talk ourselves into a place of confidence and belief by declaring God’s word: what it is and who it says we are. This type of meditation and declaration serves as an act of persuasion, perhaps even a plea. Not with God, but with reality itself to bend back into alignment with God’s view of who we are.
Throw away thought
Your decrees are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart (111)
I admit this, in some ways, is hard to understand about the laws. I can’t not slam into the wall of perception that law is rigid, legalistic, and not life-giving. But David had a new covenant kind of faith. He saw the implications of what good laws do. Think of how a law or order signed by a leader or passed through a Parliament can immediately set a standard of protection for people. An example that comes to mind is how anti-trafficking laws have been established and enforced to protect children, which is a beautiful thing.
What an incredibly profound statement we have in verse 111. God’s promises, what he says, His truth belong to David. They are David’s legacy, his treasure, an inheritance he can pass along. What he will be known for.
Keep walking the honey brick road.
If you want to catch up on my previous reflections from Psalm 119, check out these posts:
Sweet, Leonard. SoulTsunami: sink or swim in new millenium culture. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999.