Holy Indifference and Humble Contentment
“Holy Indifference and Humble Contentment” – November 3rd, 2024 (Psalm 131)
At some point in our lives, possibly a long time ago, possibly this week, we have all asked ourselves, “Who am I?” Depending on our mood, our circumstances, our companions, and the weather, we might come up with a wide variety of answers to this question. To be human is to ask self-reflective questions like that.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a poem of the same name, published posthumously in his Letters & Papers from Prison, while enduring deprivations and daily threats of torture and death.
Who am I? They often tell me I would step from my cell’s confinement calmly, cheerfully, firmly, like a squire from his country-house.
Who am I? They often tell me I would talk to my warders freely and friendly and clearly, as though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me I would bear the days of misfortune equably, smilingly, proudly, like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really all that which other men tell of? Or am I only what I know of myself, restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage, struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat, yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds, thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness, trembling with anger at despotism and petty humiliation, tossing in expectation of great events, powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance, weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making, faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?
Who am I? This or the other? Am I one person today, and tomorrow another? Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others, and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling? Or is something within me still like a beaten army, fleeing in disorder from a victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.
Today’s Psalm in our series of Pilgrimage Psalms invites us to take a good hard look at our core identity. Who am I? Old Testament scholar Rudolf Kittel paints Psalm 131 as “a pearl in the Psalter, a touching little poem that in a few simple words expresses the greatest, that which is higher than all reason and says more than many words.”
Let’s read this pearl of a psalm together. Psalm 131 (NRSV) – “1 O Lord, my heart is not lifted up, my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. 2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me. 3 O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time on and forevermore.”
These short verses bring back a flood of overwhelmingly positive memories for me, both distant and recent. I nourished, taught, comforted, and consoled all of my children in my embrace. I am grateful to have been able to breastfeed my biological infants for 12-18 months each, and I nurtured all of my children in my embrace long after they were weaned, for many years after they began to receive their nutritional needs through table food. More recently, I noticed our beautiful granddaughter’s dependence on and desire for her parents, especially with her mother. Whether she yearns for nutrition or nurture, her specific needs along with how her loving parents seek to meet those needs speak to me along with this Psalm about who God is and who we are in relationship with God. Psalm 131 invites us to live with simple confidence and trust in God as a way of life, through both holy indifference and humble contentment.
Let’s look at each verse of this Psalm in turn. In verse one, we learn of three choices the psalmist has made:
- My heart is not lifted up
- My eyes are not raised too high
- I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.
In the ancient world, the descriptor “my heart” refers to what we would today describe as functions of our hearts, our minds, and our wills. “The eyes” was understood to describe as all of our senses, our opinions, and our judgments. Together, “my heart” and “my eyes” represent all of the ways in which I interact with the world, as an individual who both thinks and decides within the community.
However, the lifting up of the heart and the raising up of the eyes, are both regarded in biblical wisdom literature as characteristic of a life that is displeasing to God. Throughout Scripture, God cautions us, with great kindness, about the negative consequences of excess ambition and overinflated egos.
Proverbs 21:4 (NRSV) warns us, “Haughty eyes and a proud heart— the lamp of the wicked—are sin.”
1 John 2:15-16 instructs us, “Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world—the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches—comes not from the Father but from the world.”
These wisdom parameters are almost unheard of in our contemporary culture. Putting ourselves forward is both encouraged and rewarded. Social media doesn’t exactly pair well with humility. Sales techniques intentionally provoke discontentment about who we are and what we have. From earliest childhood we are inundated with endless encouragement towards pridefulness, entitlement, preening, and posturing. Preoccupation with self has become so commonplace, even among those claiming to follow Christ, that we barely notice the unhealthiness or destructiveness of such a way of life.
So, what exactly are these “too great and too marvelous” things that the psalmist is not occupying himself with? The Hebrew for this phrase includes the word, nipla’ot, which occurs frequently throughout the Old Testament to refer to the God’s mighty deeds. One such example is in Psalm 136:3-4 (NRSV) – “O give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his steadfast love endures forever; who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures forever.” That Psalm goes on to list deed after deed that only God could do, things that far exceed human ability and control. To choose to not occupy oneself with things too great and too marvelous is to acknowledge that God alone does great wonders.
The psalmist shows us by his three choices that he trusts actively in God in his thinking and in his decisions. In Jeremiah 45:5, God warns us: “Do you seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them.” Paul echoes this warning in Romans 12:3, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment.” The psalmist lays down pride, arrogance, and ambition; he accepts his limitations; and he thinks of himself with sober judgment. He embraces both holy indifference and humble contentment as a way of life.
In verse two, the psalmist shares the source of his hope: “But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.” This imagery would have been quite shocking to the original hearers.
John 5:18 tells us that the Jewish leaders were very upset with Jesus (to the point of seeking to kill him) “because he was not only breaking the sabbath, but was also calling God his own Father, thereby making himself equal to God.” God wants us to see ourselves primarily as beloved children enfolded in God’s loving embrace.
Situated on this side of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, with 2000 years of church history, I think we’re pretty comfortable with calling on God as our father. We are perhaps less comfortable with calling on God as our mother, even though the Bible speaks of God in both paternal and maternal terms, with both masculine and feminine traits. It’s reassuring to remember that God is neither male nor female, clearly seen in God’s creation of all humans, both female and male, in God’s image!
Psalm 91:4 speaks of the care with which a mother bird tend her young, even in spite of male pronouns: “he will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge.” Isaiah 49:15 compares God’s care for us to that of a mother, “Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.” 1 Peter 2:2-3 uses a breastfeeding metaphor: “Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.” Isaiah speaks quite bluntly. Isaiah 46:3-4: “Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he, even when you turn gray I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.” Isaiah 66:13: “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.” My favorite verse from Hosea paints a picture of beloved tenderness: “I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.”
One of the main reasons why the church down through the ages has been uncomfortable with maternal images of God, even though these are completely in line with Scripture, is because up until very recently, the vast majority of Bible translators, theologians, pastors, teachers, authors, and even renowned artists have been almost exclusively male. Thankfully, these fields which previously excluded women are opening up to all of God’s precious image-bearers, God’s children, both male and female!
At the time Psalm 131 was written, children were breastfed for about three years. It was a common, everyday experience to see mothers with nursing infants. The weaning process was also well-known and even celebrated with a feast! All kinds of life experiences, whether glorious or messy, were experienced and understood by the community at large. The psalmist’s metaphor of a mother and her weaned child is clear. Young children often resist falling asleep when they run out of steam, but once they surrender their wills and allow themselves to be carried, consoled, and comforted, they are able to receive much-needed relief, refreshment, and restoration. The psalmist did not think too highly of himself. He calmed and quieted his soul in the embrace of the one who had been faithful to satisfy all of his needs. The psalmist draws our attention to the dawning awareness in a weaned child that the mother is present not only for the child’s satisfaction, but as one who is desirable and lovable and beautiful for her own sake. As the psalmist enters into that awareness by calming and quieting his own soul, he is able to experience a deeper kind of intimacy and closeness with God. Now he can receive much-needed relief, refreshment, and restoration in communion with the Lord.
Old Testament scholar, Walter Beyerlin, notes, “The weanling … has ‘been cured’ of forcing his way to his mother with urgent impetuosity and loud cries for the satisfaction of his vital needs … he has learned, in spite of all his desire to nurse to satisfy those needs … it is now habitual with [his soul] to wait calmly and patiently, to wait on God, on his help at the appropriate time.”
There are deep experiences of God that we will miss if we do not learn to surrender our wills to God. But as we calm and quiet our souls, we become aware of God’s intimate presence with us. We begin to see that our life is beautiful, both a gift from God and something which we owe to God.
On the other hand, whenever we choose to live in anxiety, distress, fear, or distractedness, we shrink back from life. We shrink back from God and others, and we shrink back from becoming our true selves, as beloved and fully alive children of God. Calming and quieting our souls enables us to appreciate the gift of life and the giver of life.
Psalm 131’s third and last verse beckons us again towards hope: “O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time on and forevermore.” Psalm 131 answers the question of how to hope in the Lord as a way of life: through holy indifference and humble contentment.
We hope in the Lord as a way of life through holy indifference. This is an attitude, a way of approaching life, a mindset by which we receive whatever comes our way in an attitude of both detachment and acceptance. We choose to hold everything in such a way that nothing interferes with our primary attachment to God. We lay down our own preferences and accept God’s will, whatever that may be. Since “holy indifference” can be abbreviated to “HI,” it helps me to say, “Hi!” to whatever circumstances that come my way, to remind myself to approach everything with an attitude of holy indifference.
Ecclesiastes 7:14 – “In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider; God has made the one as well as the other.”
For many years now, I have found what is known as the Ignatius of Loyola’s First Principle and Foundation to be very helpful in embracing holy indifference as a way of life:
The goal of our life is to live with God forever. God, who loves us, gave us life. Our own response of love allows God’s life to flow into us without limit.
All the things in this world are gifts of God, presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.
As a result, we appreciate and use all these gifts of God insofar as they help us develop as loving persons. But if any of these gifts become the center of our lives, they displace God and so hinder our growth toward our goal.
In everyday life, then, we must hold ourselves in balance before all of these created gifts insofar as we have a choice and are not bound by some obligation. We should not fix our desires on health or sickness, wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or a short one. For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a deeper response to our life in God.
Our only desire and our one choice should be this: I want and I choose what better leads to God’s deepening his life in me.
We also hope in the Lord as a way of life through humble contentment. This has to do with the attitudes we cultivate, no matter what circumstances we face. Humble contentment is never automatic. It is a day-by-day, sometimes moment-by-moment, choice to accept both God’s sovereignty and our limitations. Humble contentment does not depend on whether we feel close to God or not.
A weaned child with her or his mother is a picture of contentment. The child does nothing to earn the mother’s embrace or affection. The child rests in the security of the mother’s embrace, confident of receiving nourishment, soothing, consolation, and protection. Instead of looking to other people or all the wrong places for affirmation and value, the psalmist calms and quiets his soul in the Lord’s embrace.
Our contemporary culture, especially in the West, highly values ambition and self-promotion; but those things are foreign to the spirit of Psalm 131. Ambition has even crept into the church with Christianized language like, “Do something great for God.” A quick AI search pulled up these church taglines: rewrite your story, embrace your potential, build your legacy, imagine the possibilities, overcome your struggles, make a difference, discover your destiny. None of these things are wrong, as long as they do not become our primary focus. We need to be careful to not allow anything to usurp or distort our core identity as beloved children of God. Even when we are tempted to want to have more or to do more, let us remember the Lord’s desire that we each embrace holy indifference and humble contentment as a way of life.
Who am I? Author Brennan Manning has much wisdom to share in his writings. In the Ragamuffin Gospel, he says: “My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it.” In Abba’s Child, Manning challenges us: “Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion.”
As a mother, and now as a grandmother, I can confidently express to each of my children and grandchildren, “Because you exist, you are a gift to me. I delight in you.” How much more does God delight in each of God’s image bearers, each one a beloved child of God!
Dietrich Bonhoeffer could not answer the question, Who am I? Yet it was as he wrestled with this question in the face of death that he began to realize and accept that the most important thing was not who he was, but whose he was. His identity lay not in himself but in God. As he calmed and quieted his soul, he was able to receive much-needed relief, refreshment, and restoration in communion with the Lord. He was able to embrace holy indifference and humble contentment as a way of life.
In closing, I crafted some statements upon which to reflect, in three specific areas. Pay attention to any places in which you sense conviction from the Holy Spirit. James 5:16 instructs us: “confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed.”
1. I have pulled away from the peace of Christ concerning this Tuesday’s election. I have already planned to lose heart if my preferred candidates do not win. I am finding it difficult to think, speak, or act in a loving manner towards others who vote or respond differently to me.
2. I have asked the Lord to bless what I want instead of surrendering my ambitions, hopes, plans, and dreams to God. I have cherished and pursued my own fulfillment, success, or tranquility more than the will of God. I have nursed resentment or disappointment in situations or relationships where my expectations have not been met.
3. By not accepting my limitations, I have demonstrated a lack of trust in God. I have not given enough attention to proper self-care and as a result am unable to love others appropriately. I have made a habit of letting my anxieties or fears drive my decision-making.
We all stand in great need of God’s grace. I encourage each of us to move towards freedom by confessing to and praying with and for someone else. You are welcome to come to the front, if that seems good to you, or to go to someone who is in the room now, or to reach out to someone later on today or this week. If the Holy Spirit has tugged on your heart at all, I urge you to not put off responding to God. The Lord is with us to heal, to save, to forgive, and to restore. Come, Holy Spirit! Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!
