"I call upon you, O God, for you will answer me;
incline your ear to me; hear my words.
Wondrously show your steadfast love,
O savior of those who seek refuge
from their adversaries at your right hand.
Guard me as the apple of the eye;
hide me in the shadow of your wings,
from the wicked who despoil me,
my deadly enemies who surround me." (Psalm 17:6-9)
God never needs our protection; we are the ones who constantly need God's.
Maybe that seems obvious--I would hope so, honestly. But truth be told, sometimes we Respectable Religious Folks get the orientation of our faith all backwards and convince ourselves it's up to us to "defend" or "protect" or "fight" for God somehow, when in actuality that suggests a pretty weak deity. A god who has to be defended by devotees isn't worth worshiping, and a religion that needs people in positions of power in order to "save" it in some sort of culture war is hardly worth giving your life to. The living God turns the tables on that perspective, by instead always being our refuge and never needing to hide behind us for shelter.
Again, I would hope that this much is already pretty clear, just from a cursory surface-level reading of the Scriptures. That old cliche is right on the money: you defend God like you defend a lion--you just get out of the way. And that certainly seems to be the picture here in these verses from Psalm 17, which many would have heard read this past Sunday from the Revised Common Lectionary. The invitation throughout the Scriptures, and especially in prayers like this one from the psalms, is always for us to find shelter in the strength of God, and for us to rest in God as our refuge. It is never the case that God needs our firepower, fury, or ferocity to keep God safe from outside threats.
And yet, I've got to admit, for just about as long as I can remember, and I expect for longer before that, too, there's always been a chorus out there somewhere of religious voices, tv and radio preachers, and parachurch pundits, who always seem to be afraid of God being defeated by enemies or of Christianity being overwhelmed by external boogeymen. In my lifetime alone, we have lived through the fears (which they have often helped to stoke) of "-isms" like Communism and Marxism, of quasi-spiritual movements like "New Age" or whatever the latest trend was, and of academic entities like universities, modern science, and philosophy. I've heard accusations aimed at institutions like the United Nations, public schools, and local libraries. We have lived through sermons that were both fiery and fearful labeling everyone from foreign nations, opposition political parties, or even other branches of the Christian faith all as dangerous enemies of God. And over and over again, I know I at least have heard lots of loud and anxious voices trying to rile up church folks to "save Christianity," to "fight for God," or to "defend the Gospel," quite often by prodding us to push for more political power, elect a particular party or candidate, or leverage our influence in order to fend off whatever the Threat Du Jour happened to be. I suspect you have heard them too.
And what hits my ears, every time I hear one of those voices talking about how Christianity needs help from people in power in order for it to be "saved" or how we need people to "fight for God," is how weak and empty those sentiments make God out to be. I am left with the impression of a god that is a needy pet or a fragile piece of porcelain--in other words, an idol. The real and living God does not need our help in fighting off enemies--after all, ours is the God who simultaneously protects us in the face of those we feel are enemies while also calling us to love those same enemies. But at no point is God dependent on our help or our power.
When we are clear on that, we can pray with the poet here in the psalm: we can truly and confidently ask for shelter in the "shadow of God's wings" like we are baby chicks held within Mama Hen's downy presence. We can ask--and believe that we can rely on God when we do--for God to be our refuge, as well as for God to be the refuge of all who have been forced to flee from their former homes and places of safety. We can count on God to guard us like the ramparts of a fortress that absorb the incoming fire of the enemy's arrows. After all, that is exactly what the cross is all about, isn't it? There at the cross, God in Christ chooses to absorb every last attack, to take the hit for us, to bear the blows and beatings, all the way to death, in order to provide refuge for a world full of people desperate for protection? The Crucified Christ doesn't call out for his followers to rally together to protect him or to defend him from the hostile forces of the Romans or the angry mob. He doesn't summon his disciples to form an army to keep him safe. Just the opposite--in the Passion stories, Jesus is the One putting his own body between the danger and his disciples. He is the One telling the soldiers and temple police, "I am the one you are looking for, so let these men go." Jesus is the One who offers protection for his beloved; he does not need them to keep him out of danger or pain. That's the One in whom we put our trust.
All of that gives us to reasons to breathe out in relief and peace: for one, it means it's not up to us to have to defend Christianity, protect God, or some other such culture war nonsense. And second, it means we really can rely on this God--who doesn't need defending--to be our guard, our refuge, and our shelter, because the living God never needs our protection in the first place.
O God, be our shelter, and free us from the illusion of thinking we ever had to defend you.
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