Apr 16 2020 Psalm 146

Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, for there is no help in them.
When they breathe their last, they return to earth, and in that day their thoughts perish.

If only it were that easy. Every day, we awaken to news of the pandemic’s toll. Even if we don’t seek out the news, it seems to seek us out. And every day, there are stories of leaders who seemingly cannot lead, of authorities with no authority, of fellow children of God who don’t seem to care about fellow children of God. It seems that we are held captive, first by the virus, and then by the humans we’ve vested to lead us out of this. We’ve pinned our hopes on the mortal leaders.

And when the mortal leaders fail to act in the ways we deem noble, we claim they’ve failed. We feel they’ve failed us.

What if we took this psalmist to heart? What if we did not put our trust in rulers at all? Not that we actively work against them, but that we didn’t pin our hopes, or place our trust in their solutions. When they breathe their last, their thoughts perish along with their body, and return to the earth.

The problem with this is of course that our mortal leaders can cause all sorts of trouble while they’re walking this earth. We see our leaders act in ways that we believe do not help, and in some instances harm. They institute policies which harm the least, the lost, and the last. We are angered by our ‘leaders’ lack of moral leadership.

When that happens, I wonder if it’s because we’ve placed too much trust in those leaders. What if we’re crushed because we’ve placed the leaders in a position to disappoint?

Or stated another way, what if, when we find ourselves disappointed in our leaders, we tried to remember that it is God that saves, not mortal leaders. When we are deeply disappointed in our leaders, is it because we’ve somehow tipped the balance in who we trust, and we trust the leaders more than God? Even when we’re outraged on behalf others without a voice, does that say we trust the leaders to resolve things, more than God?

To be clear, I’m not suggesting we should passively sit by. But we can act, and love and help without the devastating and exhausting outrage, either for ourselves or on behalf of others.

This morning, I’m thinking about how my outrage in mortal leaders might be a handy signal that I’ve placed too much trust in them, and instead should immediately remember that it is God, not man, who will save me, and those about whom I worry.