Psalm 1

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With every beginning, be it a new semester or endeavor, there is an opportunity to recall what is essential for us. For our family, a new school year means a new calendar, rearranging how we spend our time, buying new supplies and putting away notebooks that we no longer need. It’s a time to reprioritize and reestablish our foundations.      

Psalm 1 invites us to a life that is “blessed.” In the Bible, “blessed” means an experience of thriving in every dimension of life – relational, psychological, spiritual, and physical. We are invited to be like a tree “whose leaf does not wither” because it is rooted by a stream that brings growth and flourishing.

There is an inevitability to something that grows. A tree with roots by a stream continues to grow in ways that are seen and unseen, by day and night, bearing fruit at the right time. At a recent staff retreat, I shared the nature of being rooted as an aesthetic experience, with an inevitable outcome towards an object of affection.      

The aesthetic experience of being rooted is found in the words, “whose delight is in the law of the Lord.” This is not primarily a duty towards the law of the Lord, but delight in it! Duty suggests satisfying an obligation or demonstrating our worth through effort. It comes with worry, anxiety, self-pity and guilt. Delight, on the other hand, is akin to  savoring, relishing, and rejoicing! It’s not merely knowing the Bible, but a delight that comes from being surrendered and subject to God’s law. It means we don’t simply read Scripture, but we are read by Scripture. We don’t merely master and interpret it, but we allow it to master and interpret us. It means day by day, moment by moment, saying to ourselves, “I love the Law that masters and interprets me! I delight that it has authority over me!”      

‍To understand the inevitable outcome of being rooted, it helps to consider what happens when we are unrooted. In v. 4, “Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.” Chaff blows away when wheat is threshed. It is ephemeral, passing and immaterial. The alternative outcome, however, is to be solid, resilient and durable.      

Here’s why this matters. Often when we speak about being spiritually rooted, we do so with a hint of escapism. We imagine passing through this world until we can leave it behind or leaving the material world for our final heavenly home. And yet, the Apostle John, in describing the conclusion of history in Revelation, speaks of a “new heavens and earth” that is spiritual and profoundly material. Jesus’ birth, death, resurrection and ascension, as well as His promised return, are physical. In Rev. 21:1-2, we read, “I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.” This is why Dr. N.T. Wright says that Christians in this world are an immaterial shadow of their future selves and why C.S. Lewis in The Great Divorce describes progress towards heaven as one where you become more solid, not less.

We live in a profoundly superficial and ephemeral world, whether because of AI, social media, or our obsession with image and entertainment. Christians are called not to join or escape it, but to be more profoundly solid, stable, present, and tangible in that world. We are called to be deeply rooted in God so that we can be deeply rooted for the world, whether at Harvard, on Wall Street, in Hollywood, the boardroom or the courtroom.       

Lastly, being rooted requires an object of affection. While our world offers ways to flee from hardship, we can choose rootedness and flourishing amidst the hardship – like a fruitful tree by a lifegiving stream. Our hearts can be drawn and captivated by some object of affection, even if everything around us is barren and dry. At the heart of the Christian faith, we read of Jesus, who, despite the horrors of the cross, was not blown away like chaff but remained steadfast. His rootedness on the cross becomes the most solid, present, unshakable, and real expression of the love of God that our world has seen. How? Just as in hardship, we can root ourselves in a love for Him; when He was on the cross, He was rooted in a deep love for us. We’re the reason He was able to stay the course, even when every human instinct would have prompted Him to flee. We’re His object of affection, so that He could become our object of deepest affection.      

When we ourselves delight and are beholden by His weighty and steadfast expression of love for us, we ourselves become solid, enduring and present in the world, particularly when everything is prone to be blown away like chaff.      

What does it mean to be rooted at Harvard? Drink deeply from the stream of God’s presence through prayer, Bible Study, and community. And then, be the most stable friend, the most dedicated truth seeker, the most steadfast advocate for justice, and the most reliable giver of mercy. May we be people who are deeply rooted in His love, so that we can grow into people whose lives bear lasting fruit—steady, faithful, and flourishing for the sake of the world around us.