Better Than Life
“I have looked upon You in the sanctuary, beholding Your power and glory. Because Your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise You.”
So David declares in the passionate 63rd psalm. I first encountered the song in 2016 on a personal getaway at a Catholic retreat center in Mundelein, IL. Tucked in a secluded corner of the woods surrounding the University of Saint Mary of the Lake, the setting was pure tranquility.
A few others were there pursuing a silent retreat. I would pass them in the hall and we would smile, wrestling each time with the unnatural restraint of words. Curiosity piqued, I perused the document they had left open on a table. The almost intentionally plain page guided participants to spend several days meditating in silence with Psalm 63. It was profoundly simple. I had come with my own plans for my time there, but this sounded better.
I flipped to the near-middle of my Bible and began to read. “You are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” I knew these words, though I had not known their origin. A worship pastor at the church of my childhood had set them to a powerful praise song.
“In a dry and weary land, You are my water!” the chorus declared. Years had passed, yet I instantly remembered – A testament to the power of music to plant thoughts in our brains. I had sung it countless times, often with tears of joy. Now I had come, at last, to the inspiration.
Over the days that followed, I spent much time in silent reflection, reading, and even trying to memorize the psalm. God met me in the silence, counseling, and ministering to me in ways I had not anticipated. It was a life-defining experience. It convinced me that we need more silence in our lives.
Years passed, and on August 26th, 2020 I found myself again on a silent retreat at the wise urging of my bride. I had ventured to a favorite spot of mine, withdrawn from cities and sounds, surrounded by fields and serenity. I had not come with a definite plan, only a coffee, some music, and a Bible. In what was surely no coincidence, I opened the pages and found a bookmark in that old, familiar psalm.
I began to read, and this time was arrested by a later line: “Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.” Oh, the marvelous ways of the living Word. I had read this verse many times before, yet now it was speaking to me as if for the first time. Better than life. What did this mean?
I read it again. Better than life.
Life – the great mystery with which we all must grapple. We cling to it with all we have even though at times we despair of it. It rewards us with triumph and inflicts us with misery. When it begins to slip from us, we gasp for more. It is altogether bittersweet. Almost invariably, each of us will wonder at some point if there isn’t more. Is this really all there is? And yet we are desperate for it.
This is what makes the statement in Psalm 63 so extraordinary. Surrounded by “those who seek to destroy my life” (Ps 63:9), David claims to have found something better; something truly secure; something transcendent: God’s steadfast love. It was there before life began, and when all else has passed away, it will remain (1 Cor. 13). It is stronger, it is purer, it is better than life. Because of this, David says, “my lips will praise you… as long as I live.”
And so can we.
2020 has been one of the most challenging years in recent American history. It has left us with pain, loss, anger, violence, disunity, and disillusionment. It has become a daily practice for people to throw up their proverbial hands and beg the year to end. Of course, there is no promise that 2021 will be any better. Life feels painful now and it could, in fact, get worse.
This has not escaped Christians – we have wrestled just as deeply. The church has been rocked. We sense that we have metaphorically come to “a dry and weary land where there is no water.” For those of faith, it is a moment of testing; A preparation for whatever comes. How can we cling to hope when all feels so unstable? How can we stand to sing when life chokes our voices and brings us to our knees? How can we?
We can because it is precisely in these moments when we see with clarity that God’s steadfast love is better. There is more than this life. There is security through the chaos. We can yet stand and praise in full-chested shouts, our hearts filled with joy and song. Our despair of this life can lead us to abandon our hope in it and place our trust in that which is better.
In his masterwork: A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, Pastor Eugene Peterson once said, “A person has to get fed up with the ways of the world before he, before she, acquires an appetite for the world of grace.” I believe we have come to such a moment here in America, and I believe it can birth a revival in our faith and our praise.
Life feels awful right now. Many of us are weary and fed up. And it is at this moment that we have a greater chance than ever to experience true worship. Here in our weakness, we have an opportunity to see the power and glory of His steadfastness. Lord, we pray for such worship. We pray for such vision. Because your steadfast love is better than life, may our hearts be filled with the words of the ancient song, “So I will bless You as long as I live; in Your name I will lift up my hands.”