A Pilgrim’s Journey

How lovely is your dwelling place,
O LORD of hosts!
My soul longs, indeed it faints
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy
to the living God [Psalm 84:1-2].

This week—the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B—the Revised Common Lectionary favors us with two readings from the Psalter. We may opt for selected verses from the 34th. Alternatively, we may choose the entirety of the Psalm that is numbered 84. Over the past day or so, as I have thought and prayed about the pilgrimage of a close friend from his earthly existence to his place in the church triumphant, I have been profoundly moved by the passion and beauty of the beloved 84th.

Psalm 84, typically characterized as one of the “Songs of Zion,” celebrates Yahweh’s divine presence in the Jerusalem Temple. During ancient times, the Temple Mount was one of the most hallowed places on earth. It still is. From the time of the initial establishment of the Temple under Solomon onward, down even to the time of Christ, every Hebrew felt a duty to travel to Jerusalem and the Temple for at least one of the high Jewish festivals, particularly Passover, no matter where he or she lived.

For example, many have posited that Simon of Cyrene, the man forced by the Roman soldiers to carry the Cross of Jesus part of the way along the Via Dolorosa, had likely traveled from what is now eastern Libya to Jerusalem for Passover to fulfill his duty as a devout Jew [see Mark 15:21]. Most OT scholars see Psalm 84 as a poetic account of what each of those Hebrew pilgrims would have experienced as she or he approached that holy city on a hill. As noted OT scholar, Walter Brueggemann suggests—speaking of Psalm 84—it is as if the speaker envisions standing at the gates of the city, seeing the Temple sanctuary, and celebrating its significance [Psalms: New Cambridge Bible Commentary, 2014].

And yet, for the pilgrim, it wasn’t so much “the what” that made this place so powerful and different; it was “the Who.” Zion was special because it was Yahweh’s dwelling place. To be sure, those in ancient Israel did not view Yahweh’s presence as being limited only to Zion. They saw Yahweh as truly omnipresent. But the religious pilgrim in those post-Solomonic days drew upon old, sacred stories of the Ark of the Covenant, stories in which the all-powerful—sometimes seemingly inaccessible—Yahweh, had chosen to live (i.e., to “tabernacle”) with them, to be invisibly enthroned with them. Grace flowed upon Grace, since the uncontainable Yahweh had consented to be with them, to provide life for them, in spite of their own transient, tenuous existence.

Because of Yahweh’s presence, the Temple represented sanctuary for all. In 84:3, as the pilgrim first sees the hallowed halls of Zion, he or she rejoices that even the sparrows and swallows find a home adjacent to the altars of the Lord of hosts, the divine King. Proximity to Yahweh means security, safety, as well as protection from the hazards and horrors of the world nearby. And just as the birds find safe sanctuary in Yahweh’s presence, so also do those people who worship in Yahweh’s house (84:4). Those in Yahweh’s presence forever sing His praise.

But the pilgrimage to Zion isn’t always an easy one. In 84:6, there is an enigmatic reference to “the valley of Baca.” No such place is actually identified elsewhere in scripture. A few translators have said it might be a reference to the valley of Rephaim [see 2 Samuel 5:18-22], and to the balsam trees that are associated with that valley. Indeed, the New Jerusalem Bible translates this text as referring to “the Valley of the Balsam,” since the Hebrew word associated with balsam trees is the somewhat similarly sounding beka’im. I think I prefer—as if my preference matters—the translation offered by the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible) which, when subsequently translated into English, reads “the Valley of Weeping.”

No matter which linguistic option is chosen, the point seems clear: Along their way to Zion, pilgrims often must pass through a place of weeping or sorrow. Though their minds have  visions of Zion in the distance, they must pass through pain and difficulty—as must also those who love them—before they reach the realm of blessing and abundance made possible by Yahweh. And yet, as indicated here in Psalm 84, the realm of blessing and abundance is assured for the weary, but faithful pilgrim. The pilgrimage is long and difficult, but the anticipation of encountering the presence of God in Zion brings true hope.

A close friend, Rick Jenkins, is a pilgrim. For some time now, Rick has been traveling on toward Zion. Like so many other pilgrims, before he can “appear before Yahweh in Zion” [84:8], Rick has had to traverse through the Valley of Weeping. As I mentioned in several earlier—somewhat anonymous—posts that make reference to Rick [in those posts, I refer to him as “Nick”], he has been battling a combination of lung cancer and Parkinson’s Disease since the moment his lung cancer resurfaced about five years ago.

He and the oncologists at Duke Med Center have fought the good fight. Discovering five years ago that Rick’s cancer had returned as a stage-four affliction, his medical team was able to craft a special regime geared to Rick’s specific genomic makeup. For more than four years, the regime kept Rick’s cancer at bay. Alas, as Rick has known for a long time, cancer—like death itself—is a patient adversary. The drugs stopped working about a year ago and from that time until today, Rick has been struggled through the Valley of Weeping.

He became bedridden some two weeks ago. He has not eaten now for about 10 days, yet he told me last Friday, “Tom, I’m hungry …, but not for normal food.” I immediately knew from our past conversations that Rick has been hungry for Zion. And yet, to reach Zion, to appear before Yahweh, Rick must complete his passage through the Valley.

A day and one-half ago, Rick slipped into a deep sleep—the final chapter of his life here among us. No one, of course, knows how many pages are contained in that final chapter. Still within his pilgrimage to Zion, Rick’s body has continued its travail. His breathing is labored. His eyes are closed.

Piecing things together, based on the timing of an email I received from Rick’s devoted wife, Lise, he had a brief moment of consciousness just before Noon today, as the weekly Bible Study that he loves/loved so much was winding its way down via Zoom (Rick hasn’t been able to attend for some time now). He didn’t open his eyes, yet he obviously knew that “his Lise” was nearby, and so Rick whispered three words to her, “Help me go.”

Based on her tearful message to me, we quickly assembled an electronic prayer-chain of sorts, with all of us in our little ecclesia, in our own way, offering prayers for Rick’s safe and expeditious passage through the remainder of the Valley in order that he might reach his goal: Zion.

About 1:00 p.m., I drove to Rick and Lise’s and spent about an hour with him. He was back within his stasis of deep sleep. I sat near his head and read portions of the Psalter to him. I could not determine if he sensed my presence or not. I concentrated on Psalm 84, with its hauntingly beautiful image that, as the pilgrim makes his or her way through the last segment of the Valley of Weeping, something wonderful happens. Near the end of the Valley, but still before one is able to see Zion itself, springs gush forth [84:6-7]. “Early rain” cloaks the earth with its blessings [The Hebrew Bible, tr. by Robert Alter]. Yes, Yahweh’s presence is to be felt fully in Zion, but Yahweh loves the pilgrim so much that He gives the pilgrim a foretaste of blessing even before the Sanctuary is visible.

As I prayed with Rick before I left, I asked Yahweh to “help Rick to the springs, dear Lord, help him to the springs and the early rain.” In my heart, I know that Yahweh will do so.

One more thing: Piecing together a host of conversations I’ve shared and enjoyed with Rick over these past five years, I’m sure that he has a message for each of you. Lean forward, for I’m going to whisper it to you: “We’re all pilgrims.”

We are all traversing toward Zion. Some of us are already closer to the Valley of Weeping than others. Some of us—not many, I fear—will be able to run quickly through the Valley and sprint on toward Zion before we become faint. Whether our passage is quick and easy, or whether it is labored and hard, I think Rick would have the same words for us, “Those who put their strength in [Yahweh] are truly happy; pilgrimage is in their hearts” [Psalm 84:5].