Psalm 2

Lord of Nations

Lord,

sometimes I am burdened by the politics of earth:

the serpentine plots of the proud;

the ruthless maneuvering of the underhanded

and double-dealing.

They writhe and seethe,

hungry for gain;

swarming like locusts at the harvest,

darkening the sun;

obscuring the Radiance of Your glory.

But then I remember:

You are not threatened by their taunts,

and Your only proper response

is high and holy laughter;

Your voice thunders from the heavens,

“Hear me, O great ones,

perched and playacting on your thrones:

there is but one King over all;

if you have eyes to see,

see Him lifted him up.”

Yes, Lord, I remember;

I call to mind the words of Your promise,

spoken in ages past to a godly king:

that from his offspring, You would send Your Son

in the fullness of time

to live and die among us,

bearing the crucible of His cross,

and to rise,

bringing this world up with Him from the grave.

Are not all nations and peoples Your rightful possession;

the ends of the earth. Your just domain?

Those who rule in wickedness

will be humbled before You;

the power-hungry

back-broken,

tossed into the street to beg for their dinner.

May all who reign and rule seek wisdom;

the proud be humbled;

the powerful bend their knees before Your throne.

May they know their own poverty,

that they might lay hold of the riches of Your grace.

Indeed, the ground is level at the foot of Your cross,*

and all who kneel there,

peasant or king,

find rest for their souls.

As for those who resist;

who cling to power with a clenched fist—

they will be crushed beneath the heel.

Blotted out.

Expelled.

Forgotten.

For the rightful King returns for His throne,

and blessed are all who are washed in His blood.

*This phrase comes from the lyrics of a hymn.