It's in those moments that we often turn to something greater, something beyond ourselves. And that's precisely what we find in the words attributed to Ben Sira.
This passage, found in Ben Sira 51, is a raw, deeply personal prayer of gratitude and a plea for salvation. It's a voice crying out from the depths, acknowledging both the pain and the unwavering hope in a divine presence.
"And I exalted the Lord, saying, Thou art my Father; For thou art the mighty one of my salvation. Leave me not in the day of trouble; In the day of wasteness and desolation."
Think about that image: God as a father, a source of strength, a refuge in times of trouble. It's a powerful and intimate connection. The speaker isn't just addressing a distant deity; it's a heartfelt conversation with a loving parent. The plea "Leave me not" resonates with our own fears of abandonment, of being left to face the darkness alone.
But it doesn't stop there. The tone shifts from supplication to praise: "I will praise thy name continually; And I will remember thee with prayer. Then the Lord heard my voice; And gave ear unto my supplication."
There's a profound lesson here: even in our darkest moments, the act of remembering, of praying, can be a lifeline. And, more importantly, it is heard. There is a responsive presence.
"And he ransomed me from all evil; And freed me in the day of trouble. Therefore I gave thanks, and I will sing praise; And I will bless the name of the Lord."
Salvation isn't just a concept; it's a tangible experience. It's the feeling of being freed from the grip of despair, of finding light in the darkness. And the natural response? Unadulterated gratitude. A song of praise erupts.
The passage then unfolds into a litany of thanks, a rhythmic repetition that emphasizes the enduring nature of God's mercy: "O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good; For his mercy endureth for ever."
This isn't just a generic expression of thanks; it's a specific acknowledgment of God's actions throughout history. It's a celebration of God's role as the protector of Israel, the creator of all things, the redeemer, the gatherer of outcasts, the builder of Jerusalem and its Temple. "O give thanks unto him that keepeth Israel; For his mercy endureth for ever. O give thanks unto him that gathereth the outcasts of Israel; For his mercy endureth for ever. O give thanks unto him that buildeth his city and his sanctuary; For his mercy endureth for ever."
And it extends to the figures central to the Israelite faith: "O give thanks unto the Shield of Abraham; For his mercy endureth for ever. O give thanks unto the Rock of Isaac; For his mercy endureth for ever. O give thanks unto the Mighty One of Jacob; For his mercy endureth for ever." These are not just names; they are symbols of covenant, of promise, of unwavering faith across generations.
The passage culminates in a powerful affirmation of God's ultimate sovereignty: "O give thanks unto the King of the kings of kings; For his mercy endureth for ever." This isn't just a statement of power; it's an assertion of hope. Even in the face of earthly rulers and worldly challenges, there is a higher power at work, a force for good that transcends all else.
"And he will lift up the horn of his people: A praise for all his saints; Even for the children of Israel, a people near unto him. Praise ye the Lord." The lifting of the horn is symbolic of renewed strength and dignity. It's a promise of restoration, of hope for the future.
So, what does this ancient prayer offer us today? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in our darkest hours, we are not alone. That there is a source of strength, a wellspring of mercy, that is always available to us. And that even the simple act of giving thanks, of remembering the good, can be a powerful act of faith and a pathway to hope. What will you give thanks for today?