Mind Meld of A Different Kind

PSALM 12
For the choir director: A psalm of David, to be accompanied by an eight-stringed instrument.
Help, O Lord, for the godly are fast disappearing!

The faithful have vanished from the earth!

Neighbors lie to each other,

speaking with flattering lips and deceitful hearts.

May the Lord cut off their flattering lips

and silence their boastful tongues.

They say, “We will lie to our hearts’ content.

Our lips are our own—who can stop us?”

The Lord replies, “I have seen violence done to the helpless,

and I have heard the groans of the poor.

Now I will rise up to rescue them,

as they have longed for me to do.”

The Lord’s promises are pure,

like silver refined in a furnace,

purified seven times over.

Therefore, Lord, we know you will protect the oppressed,

preserving them forever from this lying generation,

even though the wicked strut about,

and evil is praised throughout the land.

Have no fear! Underdog is here.
I grew up celebrating the heroic and humorous feats of Underdog; that unassuming, clumsy, and silly sounding little canine who shined shoes for a living. For reasons I don’t fully understand, I’ve always been attracted to unlikely heroes. Perhaps that’s why I’m a Philadelphia Eagles fan! Last year I celebrated when the Giants won the Super Bowl. Why? They were the underdogs!

Maybe exhilaration at underdog victory is more common than I am aware. And maybe this exhilaration has something to do with God’s likeness imbedded deep inside us all, despite its sin-twisted nature. God himself holds a special place in his heart, not for top dogs, but for underdogs – the helpless, the poor, the oppressed.

These underdogs are unpleasantly different from sports underdogs. They never win. In fact, many wouldn’t consider them underdogs at all, just losers. And nobody likes losers, those underdogs who never ever win against the odds. These people remain shoe shine boys. For them, neither phone booth nor a “super energy vitamin pill” exists.

I have a heart for these loser underdogs. I get frustrated with those who lay the complete (or majority of the) blame at the feet of the poor for their own poverty, the oppressed for their own weakness, and the helpless for their lack of chutzpah. The underdog life is far more complicated than such clichéd responses admit.

Still, I know that my heart for the underdog is not fully conformed to God’s heart. Neither am I satisfied with how I translate his love for them into personal or corporate action. It seems that my missions giving and occasional donations to charities that serve the poor fall far short of God’s repeated reminders of the central place this group of people hold in his heart.

God of the shoe shiners, again I place my heart in your potter hands for another session of shaping and reshaping. And I put my mind there too, so I can think more in line with you and possess your wisdom. I want to be as pure as your promises. - Mike Leamon

(Dan will return in a day or so. We both enjoyed the Memorial Day holiday yesterday!)