One Thing, Two Things

a meditation on Psalm 22

Hello, Poetry Friend

“One thing God has said;

two things I have heard”

Psalm 62:12

I’d never thought much about this verse until the fellows over at Bible Project talked about it in a discussion of “Jesus as the Psalm 2 Royal Son of God.” Tim Mackie quoted this verse from Psalm 62 as a reminder that a Bible verse doesn’t mean solely one thing — we might hear two things in one verse, or the same story may be told two different ways in Scripture — and yet, from the Almighty, the thing is one thing. One thing, two things.

As poet, this makes perfect sense to me. But it also hits my radar as a church musician.

Every weekend when I cantor, I get the privilege of leading the assembly in singing the Psalm. It’s a call-and-reponse thing: I sing the refrain (called a Response), then everyone sings it with me, then I do the verse, then everyone comes back together for the Response, and so on. There are many Psalms we sing multiple times throughout the three-year cycle, and sometimes those Responses come from different verses within the Psalm.

Nowhere is that contrast between Responses more stark than in Psalm 22, which we’ll sing this weekend for Palm Sunday.

Palm Sunday/Passion Sunday: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (from verse 2)

5th Sunday of Easter, year B: “I will praise you Lord, in the assembly of the people.” (from verse 23)

One thing. Two things.

This is how I feel every major holiday, with its joys and sorrows sitting side by side. Imagine it as one long, smashed-up sentence: MyGodMyGodWhyHaveYouAbandonedMeIWillPraiseYouLordInTheAssemblyOfThePeople.

A couple of years ago, right around this time, I had a rehearsal for Sunday, and my mind was nowhere to be found. My husband and I received a painful letter from a family member, and emotions were high, and all I can say is at least we were smart enough to wait to respond. But I was not present that afternoon. The pianist had to keep calling me back to the music. I couldn’t help it, but it really wasn’t fair to him, a person for whom Lent and tax season coalesce every year and who really doesn’t need for me to be drifiting away.

I didn’t do anything about it that day, but at the end of another rehearsal, a few days later, with the choir, I did. At that point I’d worked with this person for five years, and he knew nothing of our difficult family story. So while he rearranged the music in his binder — because everything got rearranged at rehearsal — I plunged in. He stopped moving papers to pay attention.

“You can keep doing what you’re doing,” I said.

So he went back to shuffling, and I shared the two-minute version.

He stopped shuffling. If eyes could gape, his did.

Friends, it was almost like Reconciliation. I felt more present, more ready to sing. It felt less like John and I over here and God way over there. In the years since, it’s been nice to not have to explain to this pianist exactly why I want to sing Dan Schutte’s “How Long, O Lord” every Lent. That one song is always working for me on more than one level.

I’ve written more than one poem inspired by Psalm 22. This one is arranged in twos and threes and even a four.

Psalm 22

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     But He hasn’t. You know that, right? 

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     Here’s a praise song that’ll get your mind off your troubles.
     Have you read Romans 8:28?
     Here’s a story with a happy ending.

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     Your mother always trusted in the Lord. 
     She wouldn't like to hear you carry on like this.

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     Have you turned to St. Monica for intercession?

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     Have you offered it up?

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     There are a lot of folks worse off than you.

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
     Well, bless your heart.

Happy poeming!

Megan