In convertendo: “When the LORD turned again the captivity of Sion, then were we like unto them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with joy. Then said they among the heathen, The LORD hath done great things for them. Yea, the LORD hath done great things for us already; whereof we rejoice. Turn our captivity, O LORD, as the rivers in the south. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth good seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with him” (Psalm 126).
This Psalm has always made my breath catch for a moment in wonder. It stirs something deep within me. Dreams are enchanting things– Only the childlike believe in them, and Jesus calls us to be like the little children.
One of the details that strikes me here is that the Psalmist is not saying God granted them a dream of turned captivity, but that he did indeed already turn their captivity, and it made them as dreamers. Their new reality is so grand, God’s hand is so marvelous that it feels like a dream– what seems too good to be true, is indeed true! Has death truly died? Is that possible? Yes– Christ has defeated death, and banished all gloom and darkness! The world would say that we are dreamers for saying so. But that’s just it– we are dreamers, and such dreams– wonder of wonders– are true. Only the mysterious grace of God could defend his people so, could make the world’s mocking derision into such wisdom.
I also just love how vague this Psalm is: has the Lord turned their captivity? The first line leads us to believe so, but then in the middle, the Psalmist pleads: “Turn our captivity, O LORD,” as though it hasn’t happened yet. This confusion, this up-in-the-air feeling is entirely dream-like. These aspects also enable these words to echo in our hearts with more resonance today. God has turned our captivity countless times, delivering us out of darkness into light– but yet, we still traverse through valleys, still struggle to see the dawn coming– and so, we, like the Psalmist, can declare that: “When the LORD turned again the captivity of Sion, then were we like unto them that dream,” and at the same time ask of him: “Turn our captivity, O LORD, as the rivers in the south.”
In his poem, “Resurrection,” Sidney Lanier stands on the bank of a river that turns. He writes,
“Sometimes in morning sunlights by the river
Where in the early fall long grasses wave,
Light winds from over the moorland sink and shiver
And sigh as if just blown across a grave.”
It amazes me that Lanier sets his poem “in the early fall.” Isn’t Christ’s resurrection celebrated in the springtime? And don’t our hearts delight to discover anew every year this dear harmony? Our own soul’s rejoicing is echoed with the budding, abundant beauty of trees and flowers. But surrounded by the autumn proof of decay and death, Lanier writes:
“And then I pause and listen to this sighing.
I look with strange eyes on the well-known stream.
I hear wild birth-cries uttered by the dying.
I know men waking who appear to dream.
Then from the water-lilies slow uprises
The still vast face of all the life I know,
Changed now, and full of wonders and surprises,
With fire in eyes that once were glazed with snow. [...]”
Lanier places the sound of “wild birth-cries uttered by the dying” right next to the image of “men waking who appear to dream”– this is no coincidence. How can someone dying give birth? The same way men can wake and yet dream. He continues, and says that the “still vast face" of his life, of all the life he knows, is changed now and “full of wonders and surprises, / with fire in eyes that once were glazed with snow–” I cannot help but think of the Revelation passage for today in the lectionary where John turns to look behind him and finds “one like unto the Son of man … his head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire.” I do not claim that Lanier was thinking of this verse when he wrote his, but the truth shines crystal clear: that “the still vast face of all the life we know” is surely Christ himself.
“And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and death” (Revelation 1:17-18).
“Thus saith the LORD, The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool: where is the house that ye build unto me? And where is the place of my rest? For all those things hath mine hand made, and all those things have been, saith the LORD: but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word” (Isaiah 66:1-2).
The Lord–who created the heavens and earth–who holds the keys of hell and death– this Lord looks to man for his house? For his place of rest? He looks to me? Of course we are like unto them that dream! What is this wonder? I cannot understand it, but my mouth is filled with laughter, and my tongue with joy. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end! Amen.
