Presumption—it’s hard to avoid falling into that pit. Whatever we’ve gotten used to thinking, we presume really is and should be. Psalm 9 should give us pause then because it reminds us that God may see things quite differently.

Years ago a middle school friend pointed out one of my presumptions. She had been worrying about the “bad” grade she had made on a test. “What did you make?” I asked. “B,” she replied. “B? That’s not a bad grade,” I said, trying to encourage her. “It’s not good enough for you!” she answered. Ouch! She recognized my unspoken presumptions about academic skill and privilege, based on my arrogance and fear. Arrogance because I thought I should make better grades than my friends, and fear because I didn’t know who I would or could be without a string of As on my report card. I shared her indignation: I had already betrayed my friend, omitting her from my imagined circle of academic equals. Had I ranked love and friendship below success? That wasn’t who I wanted to be.

Is our national report card better than that of other nations? Must we be best or worthless? Loving without presumption is not easy. We will have to learn the gifts, rights, and suffering of those who first cared for our continent. We will have to unlearn our fantasies about the brave and religiously superior colonists who founded our country. We will have to unlearn slippery notions of separate-but-equal. We will have to unlearn some heroic tales about World War II, the Cold War, the space race, and the competition for nuclear and economic superiority. We will have to unlearn rhetoric that excludes, demonizes, dismisses.

All the nations are only human, Psalm 9 says. That includes us. May we trust first the One who delivers us from false judgments.