Worrying (In a Good Way)
Most of you would not take too kindly to a pastoral invitation to start worrying. Isn’t that the sort of thing that Jesus said not to do (cf. Matt. 6:25-34)?
But words are interesting and there is a type of worrying that is very pastoral. A quick etymological search on worry finds that its Germanic (almost Dutch!) roots formed the Old English word wyrgan which means to ‘strangle’. It is easy to see how this has morphed over the years to describe a feeling of anxiety that grabs us by the throat! But worry in this older sense is still used today to talk about a dog with a bone. The dog worries the bone as it grips it in its teeth, drags it through the yard, and contentedly gnaws it for hours.
Why am I talking about dogs and bones? This is the image that Eugene Peterson uses in his book entitled Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading, to talk about the way that we assimilate the Word. The term the psalmist uses for this type of worrying is the word meditation. The Hebrew word translated as meditation has at its root “to coo or to growl”, a dog with its bone. From Psalm 1 and its description of the blessed man who meditates on the law of God day and night (v.2), to our current journey through Psalm 119 (8 times) we are invited to meditate on the word of God; to worry it like a dog with a bone.
We are going to delve into the importance of worrying a bit more on Sunday as we unpack the idea of the Word of God making wise the simple. For now let me simply say again, we are not talking about duty as much as we are talking about love. Dogs don’t worry their bones out of a sense of duty, but rather because they love the flavor and they were made to gnaw bones. The psalmist connects love to meditation so clearly in Psalm 11:97 when he says, “Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day.” May the Lord increase our love for him and his word.