Restless Wonderer

The concept of the ‘god complex’ was first described by British psychoanalyst Ernest Jones.  He argued that some people had such an inflated and delusional view of their own importance and their own ‘rightness’ that they basically believed themselves to be God (or at least a god).  Now, you might be thinking of someone you know right now (hopefully you’re not thinking of me!) – someone who seems to have an unshakeable conviction that they are right and that others are wrong; someone who can’t admit to weakness or fallibility; someone who acts as if the universe revolved around them.  Thankfully there are very few people, in my experience at least, who genuinely fit that description, but the reality is that we all have a degree of the ‘god complex’, at least at times.  Some of us are just better at hiding it than others!  Ever since Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the snake, we’ve had a problem owning up to our own sinfulness.  Ever since the fallen couple clasped at leaves to cover the

Human beings occupy an interesting place in the universal scale of size.  We sit somewhere in the middle of the range of organisms we can see with our own eyes – smaller than trees, whales and elephants; bigger than daisies, goldfish and mice.  More significantly, though, the advances of science in the last century or so have shown that we sit somewhere in the middle of the overall scale of size of objects in the universe.  We are unbelievably large compared to subatomic particles and inconceivably small when measured against the galaxies.  We sit like a race of Gullivers with amazing ability to measure and observe both the universe that dwarfs us and the miniscule world to which we are giants.  More puzzling, though, we sit here and wonder what our own significance is.  We are the only creature on planet earth that asks questions like “What is a human being?” and “Why are we here anyway?”  Other organisms seem to just get on with being what they are, while we expend huge energy tryin

Although I’ve never seen it, apparently there is an inscription on the Reformation Wall (a monument to reformers) in Geneva that reads: un homme avec Dieu est toujours dans la majorité .  Translation: “one man with God is always in the majority”.  A statement like that could sound arrogant or be abused as a cover for some very bad behaviour (who are you to question me – God agrees with me?), but the sentiment it expresses finds a rich basis in Scripture, not least in Psalm 3.  This poem is an insight into the thoughts of King David when he was on the run from his rebellious son, Absalom.  Admittedly David had made some pretty big mistakes that had helped to foment the uprising led by this most photogenic of his progeny, but the fact remains that David was God’s anointed king.  The sheer number of people who turned away from David in this moment is astounding as we read about it in 2 Samuel.  It seems that David was left with the barest handful of loyal followers and many of his enemie

The second psalm contrasts with the first in that it expands the horizon way beyond the contrast between individuals that Psalm 1 describes to a vision of nations in conspiracy against God and His anointed one.  The historical context is almost certainly the vassal nations that had been subdued by David and had given tribute to his descendants who were now rebelling against their overlord in Jerusalem.  The anointed king in David’s line whom God has place as ruler of Judah is being conspired against as these nations begin to assert their own identity, casting off his shackles.  Yet as the Spirit guides the psalmist, this regional turmoil becomes symbolic of a greater conflict – the mass rebellion of humankind against our Creator.  We have rejected God’s rule over us, accusing Him of despotism and believing we can be masters of our own destiny.  The anointed becomes not merely a king in David’s line, but the ultimate davidic ruler, the Messiah.  It is the response of the nations to Ch

Permanence is undervalued in our culture.  Move with the times, change with the seasons, go with the flow are the themes of this age.  Upload, update and upgrade!  I used to read Psalm 1 through this lens and I saw a progressive slowing down in the verbs of verse 1: walking in wicked counsel gives way to standing in sinful ways and finally sitting and scoffing.  This activist is gradually grinding to a halt where he should have been pressing ever onwards to new and better things.  What made me reassess this interpretation is what comes after the ‘but’ in verse 2.  The blessed man – the role model for the reader – is not more active than the trio of verse 1, but less so!  He meditates day and night on God’s law, which certainly doesn’t conjure up images of movement and busyness.  Of course it is possible to meditate on the move, but the image of the tree in verse 3 adds to the sense that this person isn’t going anywhere very quickly.  Trees don’t move (unless you’re reading Tolkien