Psalm 56
Spend enough time with the Psalms, and you find yourself praying sentiments such as, “Have mercy on me, O God, for my enemies are hounding me; all day long they assault and oppress me” (v. 1). There’s an awful lot of talk about enemies in the Psalms. In a middle class, fairly predictable culture like the one we live in, it might seem odd to think about enemies. We live in a culture of reciprocity – You do something for me, I do something for you.
Then again, perhaps you’ve paid for someone to make renovations to your house. They’ve done shoddy, substandard work, after taking your money, and they won’t return your phone calls. Don’t those people feel like enemies to you?
Interestingly, the Psalmist is in the midst of enemies. Yet he also says, “I am bound by the vow I made to you, O God…For you have recued my soul from death” (vs. 11,12). He has not yet been delivered from those who oppress him. Yet he still vows faithfulness to God, hoping that God will save him, but not making his vow dependent on God doing something for him.
In the Psalms, we have permission to complain to God about those who try to harm us. Yet even in the midst of that complaint, we also have the opportunity to reaffirm our trust in God. Don’t deny yourself these opportunities.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Sermon for the 5th Sunday of Easter
“God is love, [and] perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:16,18)
When a baby comes out into the cold world, and as the nurse cradles that baby in her arms, that newborn infant will tense up as they become aware for the first time that they are powerless, exposed in a new world of empty space, into which they might fall. And so, it appears that the first emotion we feel is fear. And what casts that fear from our hearts? The moment that we are cradled in the arms of our mother, and we know that we are not exposed. We are not alone. We are loved. Thus does love cast out fear.
And so it begins, this struggle between love and fear, between trust and powerlessness. I believe that sin began when Adam and Eve became aware for the first time that they were exposed. And they began to fear that maybe God wasn’t there all the time, or maybe that God wasn’t there at all. So, best to grab whatever advantage they could to get along in this empty space, into which we could fall or be pushed, at any time, with no warning.
I’ve seen both fear and powerlessness these past few weeks. In our church family, we all have been faced with our ultimate powerlessness in the face of physical death.
But today, we hear that “God is love,” and that this “perfect love casts out fear.” We need not fear anything because nothing is more powerful that God's love. That doesn't mean that nothing bad is ever going to happen to us. But from the moment when God said, “Let there be light,” and a universe was born, a plan has been in place that has led to each of us being here, together on this Sunday. For each of us, there have been detours and tears. Yet here we are, because each of us has also known joy, love and life together. Even in the midst of death, we give thanks for the new life that is cradled in the arms of this community, and the life that is coming into this world.
The perfect love that casts out fear is here. And the best news today is that we don’t have to be “perfect” in the way we normally think of perfection. The word “perfection” has gotten a very bad rap. When I was 14, and heard Jesus say in Matthew’s Gospel that “you must be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect,” this precipitated a minor crisis in faith for me. I thought the whole point of Grace was that we couldn’t possibly be perfect without the unmerited gift of God. And I certainly wasn’t “perfect” then. How would I ever reach the state of perfection? What if I died before that happened?
But that inconvenient word pops up a lot today – “if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” – “By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence on the day of judgment.” But the word translated here as “perfect,” does not mean a fixed static state that we must achieve, or else be condemned. "Perfect" doesn't mean getting a 100 on the test. It means the end point to which we are all progressing. Perfection is not a state in which you’re either in it or out of it. It’s a process. And to be in a process is to be in a "state" of change. To be "perfect" is to change.
Perhaps our greatest fear is change that we can’t control. Our lives change, often without our say-so. And we can’t see how these changes are going to affect us in the future. Change creates a new situation, where the old rules, the old assumptions are no more. And we haven’t yet figured what the new rules are, the new assumptions, and the new givens. But that has happened to all of us before, and the perfect love of God in Jesus Christ has brought us through, to this place, on this Sunday, together. Jesus knew what it meant to change, to be confronted with the unexpected, with human responses he had not anticipated. And together, with Christ, we continue to grow, to change, to be perfected.
Along this way of perfection, the love of Christ grows in our hearts, and cradles them. So, we need not fear change. We have been cradled in God’s loving hands ever since we were born. We are being perfected in that love, which does not fear change, but trusts in the God who guides us along the way. And if, with a sincere heart, we take a wrong turn, that is simply part of the process of perfection, by which our love of God and trust in him are nurtured and matured.
Someday, our love of God and each other will be perfect. Until then, put one foot in front of the other, day by day. God knows that’s all we can do, and that is all God asks of us. He knows where we are going. We are not exposed. We are not alone. We are loved.
When a baby comes out into the cold world, and as the nurse cradles that baby in her arms, that newborn infant will tense up as they become aware for the first time that they are powerless, exposed in a new world of empty space, into which they might fall. And so, it appears that the first emotion we feel is fear. And what casts that fear from our hearts? The moment that we are cradled in the arms of our mother, and we know that we are not exposed. We are not alone. We are loved. Thus does love cast out fear.
And so it begins, this struggle between love and fear, between trust and powerlessness. I believe that sin began when Adam and Eve became aware for the first time that they were exposed. And they began to fear that maybe God wasn’t there all the time, or maybe that God wasn’t there at all. So, best to grab whatever advantage they could to get along in this empty space, into which we could fall or be pushed, at any time, with no warning.
I’ve seen both fear and powerlessness these past few weeks. In our church family, we all have been faced with our ultimate powerlessness in the face of physical death.
But today, we hear that “God is love,” and that this “perfect love casts out fear.” We need not fear anything because nothing is more powerful that God's love. That doesn't mean that nothing bad is ever going to happen to us. But from the moment when God said, “Let there be light,” and a universe was born, a plan has been in place that has led to each of us being here, together on this Sunday. For each of us, there have been detours and tears. Yet here we are, because each of us has also known joy, love and life together. Even in the midst of death, we give thanks for the new life that is cradled in the arms of this community, and the life that is coming into this world.
The perfect love that casts out fear is here. And the best news today is that we don’t have to be “perfect” in the way we normally think of perfection. The word “perfection” has gotten a very bad rap. When I was 14, and heard Jesus say in Matthew’s Gospel that “you must be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect,” this precipitated a minor crisis in faith for me. I thought the whole point of Grace was that we couldn’t possibly be perfect without the unmerited gift of God. And I certainly wasn’t “perfect” then. How would I ever reach the state of perfection? What if I died before that happened?
But that inconvenient word pops up a lot today – “if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” – “By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence on the day of judgment.” But the word translated here as “perfect,” does not mean a fixed static state that we must achieve, or else be condemned. "Perfect" doesn't mean getting a 100 on the test. It means the end point to which we are all progressing. Perfection is not a state in which you’re either in it or out of it. It’s a process. And to be in a process is to be in a "state" of change. To be "perfect" is to change.
Perhaps our greatest fear is change that we can’t control. Our lives change, often without our say-so. And we can’t see how these changes are going to affect us in the future. Change creates a new situation, where the old rules, the old assumptions are no more. And we haven’t yet figured what the new rules are, the new assumptions, and the new givens. But that has happened to all of us before, and the perfect love of God in Jesus Christ has brought us through, to this place, on this Sunday, together. Jesus knew what it meant to change, to be confronted with the unexpected, with human responses he had not anticipated. And together, with Christ, we continue to grow, to change, to be perfected.
Along this way of perfection, the love of Christ grows in our hearts, and cradles them. So, we need not fear change. We have been cradled in God’s loving hands ever since we were born. We are being perfected in that love, which does not fear change, but trusts in the God who guides us along the way. And if, with a sincere heart, we take a wrong turn, that is simply part of the process of perfection, by which our love of God and trust in him are nurtured and matured.
Someday, our love of God and each other will be perfect. Until then, put one foot in front of the other, day by day. God knows that’s all we can do, and that is all God asks of us. He knows where we are going. We are not exposed. We are not alone. We are loved.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Friday, 4th Week of Easter
Psalm 40
One might be tempted to ask, “Can this guy make up his mind how he feels?” In one breath, the psalmist says, “He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and clay.” In the next breath, he laments that “innumerable troubles have crowded upon me.”
It’s not just the Psalms, all 150 of them, that cover the gamut of human emotions and responses to God. Sometime just one Psalm will contain contradictory ideas. Here in Psalm 40 are contained gratitude for God’s love, and fear of God’s abandonment.
Sometimes, when we are feeling our worst, it may be that the only thing keeping us afloat is the memory of how God has helped us in the past. Keeping those memories uppermost in our conscious thoughts might help us pass the present period when we are feeling as though God has abandoned us.
What memories do you have of God’s love toward you? Treasure those memories. You never know when you’re going to need them.
One might be tempted to ask, “Can this guy make up his mind how he feels?” In one breath, the psalmist says, “He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and clay.” In the next breath, he laments that “innumerable troubles have crowded upon me.”
It’s not just the Psalms, all 150 of them, that cover the gamut of human emotions and responses to God. Sometime just one Psalm will contain contradictory ideas. Here in Psalm 40 are contained gratitude for God’s love, and fear of God’s abandonment.
Sometimes, when we are feeling our worst, it may be that the only thing keeping us afloat is the memory of how God has helped us in the past. Keeping those memories uppermost in our conscious thoughts might help us pass the present period when we are feeling as though God has abandoned us.
What memories do you have of God’s love toward you? Treasure those memories. You never know when you’re going to need them.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Thursday, 4th Week of Easter
Psalm 50
This is a setup. First God calls before him his “loyal followers, those who have made a covenant and sealed it with sacrifice” (v.5). And then he accuses them! But not because of their “sacrifices” of calves, goats, and birds. “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the whole world is mine and all that is in it” (v.12).
The problem is not so much the sacrifices themselves, but the spirit in which they are done. “Appeasement” became a four letter word, thanks to its British practitioners in 1the 1930s, who kept saying, “if we give the Germans this piece of land, then surely that should be enough for Hitler.” God is not a maniacal dictator. But he is the sovereign of the entire universe. And it is equally foolish to think that anything we do could manipulate him into doing what we want.
What does God ask of us? “Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving…keep in my way.” Can you see God as the one who loves you, who doesn’t want the pretty face you show to the world, but the hurt, and hurting person that each of us is? God is not to be appeased, because God does not need to be appeased.
This is a setup. First God calls before him his “loyal followers, those who have made a covenant and sealed it with sacrifice” (v.5). And then he accuses them! But not because of their “sacrifices” of calves, goats, and birds. “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the whole world is mine and all that is in it” (v.12).
The problem is not so much the sacrifices themselves, but the spirit in which they are done. “Appeasement” became a four letter word, thanks to its British practitioners in 1the 1930s, who kept saying, “if we give the Germans this piece of land, then surely that should be enough for Hitler.” God is not a maniacal dictator. But he is the sovereign of the entire universe. And it is equally foolish to think that anything we do could manipulate him into doing what we want.
What does God ask of us? “Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving…keep in my way.” Can you see God as the one who loves you, who doesn’t want the pretty face you show to the world, but the hurt, and hurting person that each of us is? God is not to be appeased, because God does not need to be appeased.
Wednesday, 4th Week of Easter
Psalm 119:49-72
Psalm 119 – 176 verses in all. That’s a mouthful. And it really is about just one thing – the law, which for the people of Israel was the sign of God’s loving presence with his people. For only to them had God revealed his will and his judgments. Of course, knowing the right thing to do, and actually doing it, are two different things. And that is the theme that is played out for 176 verses, of which today we have verses 49-72.
The wonderful thing about the psalms is that they cover the gamut of the human response to God. It is alright to admit to God that “I am filled with a burning rage, because of the wicked who forsake your law” (v.53). Who is not deeply offended by the injustices committed by human beings against each other? And when we feel alone, isolated, do we not need guidance and friendly counsel? “Your statutes have been like songs to me wherever I have lived as a stranger.”
As we pray the Psalms together, let the words and images speak to your heart. You don’t have to be a Jewish rabbi to appreciate the emotional depth of the Psalms.
Psalm 119 – 176 verses in all. That’s a mouthful. And it really is about just one thing – the law, which for the people of Israel was the sign of God’s loving presence with his people. For only to them had God revealed his will and his judgments. Of course, knowing the right thing to do, and actually doing it, are two different things. And that is the theme that is played out for 176 verses, of which today we have verses 49-72.
The wonderful thing about the psalms is that they cover the gamut of the human response to God. It is alright to admit to God that “I am filled with a burning rage, because of the wicked who forsake your law” (v.53). Who is not deeply offended by the injustices committed by human beings against each other? And when we feel alone, isolated, do we not need guidance and friendly counsel? “Your statutes have been like songs to me wherever I have lived as a stranger.”
As we pray the Psalms together, let the words and images speak to your heart. You don’t have to be a Jewish rabbi to appreciate the emotional depth of the Psalms.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Tuesday, 4th Week of Easter
Psalm 45
1 My heart is stirring with a noble song;
let me recite what I have fashioned for the king; *
my tongue shall be the pen of a skilled writer.
2 You are the fairest of men; *
grace flows from your lips,
because God has blessed you for ever.
3 Strap your sword upon your thigh, O mighty warrior, *
in your pride and in your majesty.
4 Ride out and conquer in the cause of truth *
and for the sake of justice.
5 Your right hand will show you marvelous things; *
your arrows are very sharp, O mighty warrior.
6 The peoples are falling at your feet, *
and the king’s enemies are losing heart.
7 Your throne, O God, endures for ever and ever, *
a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of your kingdom;
you love righteousness and hate iniquity.
8 Therefore God, your God, has anointed you *
with the oil of gladness above your fellows.
9 All your garments are fragrant with myrrh, aloes, and cassia, *
and the music of strings from ivory palaces makes you glad.
10 Kings’ daughters stand among the ladies of the court; *
on your right hand is the queen,
adorned with the gold of Ophir.
11 “Hear, O daughter; consider and listen closely; *
forget your people and your father’s house.
12 The king will have pleasure in your beauty; *
he is your master; therefore do him honor.
13 The people of Tyre are here with a gift; *
the rich among the people seek your favor.”
14 All glorious is the princess as she enters; *
her gown is cloth of gold.
15 In embroidered apparel she is brought to the king; *
after her the bridesmaids follow in procession.
16 With joy and gladness they are brought, *
and enter into the palace of the king.
17 “In place of fathers, O king, you shall have sons; *
you shall make them princes over all the earth.
18 I will make your name to be remembered
from one generation to another; *
therefore nations will praise you for ever and ever.”
1 My heart is stirring with a noble song;
let me recite what I have fashioned for the king; *
my tongue shall be the pen of a skilled writer.
2 You are the fairest of men; *
grace flows from your lips,
because God has blessed you for ever.
3 Strap your sword upon your thigh, O mighty warrior, *
in your pride and in your majesty.
4 Ride out and conquer in the cause of truth *
and for the sake of justice.
5 Your right hand will show you marvelous things; *
your arrows are very sharp, O mighty warrior.
6 The peoples are falling at your feet, *
and the king’s enemies are losing heart.
7 Your throne, O God, endures for ever and ever, *
a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of your kingdom;
you love righteousness and hate iniquity.
8 Therefore God, your God, has anointed you *
with the oil of gladness above your fellows.
9 All your garments are fragrant with myrrh, aloes, and cassia, *
and the music of strings from ivory palaces makes you glad.
10 Kings’ daughters stand among the ladies of the court; *
on your right hand is the queen,
adorned with the gold of Ophir.
11 “Hear, O daughter; consider and listen closely; *
forget your people and your father’s house.
12 The king will have pleasure in your beauty; *
he is your master; therefore do him honor.
13 The people of Tyre are here with a gift; *
the rich among the people seek your favor.”
14 All glorious is the princess as she enters; *
her gown is cloth of gold.
15 In embroidered apparel she is brought to the king; *
after her the bridesmaids follow in procession.
16 With joy and gladness they are brought, *
and enter into the palace of the king.
17 “In place of fathers, O king, you shall have sons; *
you shall make them princes over all the earth.
18 I will make your name to be remembered
from one generation to another; *
therefore nations will praise you for ever and ever.”
Monday, 4th Week of Easter
“But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever” (Psalm 52:8, page 657, BCP)
This is the Psalm appointed for Monday, in the fourth week of Easter, in Year One of the Daily Office lectionary, which begins on page 934 of the Book of Common Prayer. Interestingly, this psalm is not addressed to God, but to a “tyrant” who plots ruin, whose “tongue is like a sharpened razor.” Don’t let the word, “tyrant” make you think only of a political leader. Surely we all have known someone whose “deceitful tongue” cut us like a razor. In other words, as we pray the Psalms, let these songs speak to the joy, and the pain, of your heart.
It might actually seem frightening to think of ourselves as a tree. A tree can’t move. If someone wants to cut us down, we can’t stop them. Those who “plot ruin” are always more flexible than we are because they don’t let things like morality control their actions. But for those who “trust in the mercy of God,” wherever we are, we are in the “house of God.” For there is no place where the love of God is not with us, bringing protection and healing.
Remember the classic “ice breaker” question, “If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?” Some trees are thin, but can bend with the wind. Others are big and immovable against the wind. The psalmist knew what kind of tree he was. So just what kind of tree are you?
This is the Psalm appointed for Monday, in the fourth week of Easter, in Year One of the Daily Office lectionary, which begins on page 934 of the Book of Common Prayer. Interestingly, this psalm is not addressed to God, but to a “tyrant” who plots ruin, whose “tongue is like a sharpened razor.” Don’t let the word, “tyrant” make you think only of a political leader. Surely we all have known someone whose “deceitful tongue” cut us like a razor. In other words, as we pray the Psalms, let these songs speak to the joy, and the pain, of your heart.
It might actually seem frightening to think of ourselves as a tree. A tree can’t move. If someone wants to cut us down, we can’t stop them. Those who “plot ruin” are always more flexible than we are because they don’t let things like morality control their actions. But for those who “trust in the mercy of God,” wherever we are, we are in the “house of God.” For there is no place where the love of God is not with us, bringing protection and healing.
Remember the classic “ice breaker” question, “If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?” Some trees are thin, but can bend with the wind. Others are big and immovable against the wind. The psalmist knew what kind of tree he was. So just what kind of tree are you?
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