Letting Go (Ps 46)

Can you remember a time when you were faced with a home repair, and deep in your heart you knew this repair was probably beyond your capabilities, but you dug out your toolbox anyway? You approached that leak or that circuit breaker or that hole in the wall with a tool in your hand and a steel-willed determination in your heart. There was no question. You were going to fix this yourself.

And then, predictably…the problem got worse. The leak accelerated, the hole got bigger, the electricity went out.

The psalm for today, Psalm 46, contains a famous verse I’m sure everyone here knows: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Ps 46:10). What’s fascinating to me is that the root word for the invitation, “Be still,” is elsewhere used to describe the relaxing or dropping of the hands. “Let go” might be an appropriate translation in certain contexts. “Let go” of the tools that you’re wielding. Or “let go” of the weapons that you’re waving. “Let go” of the desperate attempt to fix something beyond your control.

For me, Psalm 46 illustrates one of the paradoxes of the gospel. Letting go is not a prelude to chaos but to care. Conversely, holding on, or “white-knuckling,” is what leads to chaos and confusion (as we hear in the psalm, where “the nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter”). The point is not that when we “let go” God will step in and do everything for us. The point is that when we “let go” and know that God is with us, we become open to a power much greater than our own. We become open to help from outside. We become open to God’s inspiration.

The same Hebrew word for “be still” or “let go” also means “weak” in other passages. Which is what I imagine most onlookers thought about Jesus when they saw him affixed to the cross. This was supposed to be Israel’s messiah? Look at him. He’s utterly helpless. He’s “weak.” But for us who follow him, Jesus does not die on the cross as a victim of fate but as victor in love. And what is his victory? In the last week of his life—when he “lets go” and prays to God, “Not my will, but thy will”—he is equipped and empowered by God to do some incredible things. He lovingly washes his disciples’ feet and teaches them that greatness is found not in domination but in service. He forgives the people who put him on the cross and mock him in his death. When he is resurrected, he repeatedly proclaims “Peace”—not once breathing bitterness or vengeance upon the ones who opposed him.

And so it is that the cross, which seems like an emblem of weakness and defeat, becomes for us a symbol of God’s love and forgiveness—and the victory that is found when we “let go.”