Introduction
When I think about how most
of us live our ordinary lives – our going to work, caring for our families and
pets lives; our watching movies and TV and computer game lives; our making love
and having fights with those closest to our hearts lives – I’m struck by how
absurd and out of touch most of the scriptures sound most of the time. Week after week, we’re given these readings
that take us on a metaphorical journey, and all too often they strike me as a
waste of our time. Do you know what I’m saying?
· Ezekiel and the
valley of dry bones? The resurrection of Lazarus? Sure, if we plumb the depths of these texts
we’re likely to find a resonance with some of our hardest times – many of us here
today have had moments when we feel like we’re the living dry bones eking out a
labored existence each day in search of new life – or we’ve had a passing sense
that some-times we’re like Lazarus buried in that tomb aching to be unbound and
set free – but such revelations are not a regular occurrence, right?
· Who has time for
such complex and theologically nuanced thoughts? Maybe if we were living in a
monastic community – or at the top of some Zen mountain retreat house – it
might happen. But when we’re hustling to
get to the office – or get our children on the bus – or figure out how we’re
going to pay our bills AND purchase the necessary meds we need this month –
when our hearts are breaking and we’re filled with a terrifying loneliness –
when our puppy is sick – when our parents are dying…
· Let’s just say
that in times such as these, what we read and share on Sunday mornings
are rarely remembered.
That’s
why each week buried in a little tune – hidden or squeezed in-between the big
and important readings – there is a psalm.
Now I don’t know if you pay much attention to the psalms or not, but
more often than not they capture a tiny truth that is at the heart of God’s
message for us each Sunday. In words
that are both poetic and profound the psalms give us resources for making God’s
love real in our ordinary lives. Often
more than anything else we say during Sunday worship, the psalms cut to the
chase: they contain truth and grace of
the highest order – news we can use as some like to say – and they do so with
such quiet gentility that we can miss and overlook their blessings.
Insights
Hymns
can do much the same thing because during music that is sung we’re engaging
many of our senses.
· Our mouths are
moving and making some kind of sound that is often very musical – not always –
but often. Our ears are open to what
we’re creating as well as the song others are singing alongside the organ,
piano or guitar.
· Our eyes are
working to take in the words on the page as well as how the people are moving
to the music, right? Our hearts and minds
are opened to the way the whole THING makes us feel.
· Our memories are
active when we’re singing a hymn, too.
There are some hymns that make me smile, others that cause me to weep –
often for very competing reasons – and sometimes they happen at the same time!
· Do you know the
old revival hymn “Softly and Tenderly?” I LOVE that song: Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling,
calling to you and to me; see, on the portals he’s watching and waiting,
watching for you and for me. Come home, come home, ye who are weary come home;
earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling, calling O sinner come home.
Some
weeks, I may not remember much from the Sunday readings, but I always remember
that hymn – it is so sweet – a tender invitation to rest in God’s love. You
probably have a few songs – and they don’t have to be hymns – that do much the
same thing for you, don’t you? So you
know what I mean: songs and hymns –
instrumental music and concerts – bring many of our emotions together so that
we sense and experience the message more than simply remember it. It is a sensual encounter with God’s grace.
That’s
what the psalms we use on Sunday try to evoke – a sensual encounter with God’s
grace – which we can carry with us when life is busy and challenges seem like
they are falling down all around us like rain or snow. Psalm 130, the poem set aside for today, has
some powerful truths that I bet some of you have shared even if you haven’t
used these words: Out of the depths, I cry to you, O Lord –
hear my voice!
· This is real
prayer – not romantic religious poetry – this comes from a person’s gut and
heart.
· What do you think
would make somebody pray words like this?
What real experiences make you cry out to God? Loneliness?
Guilt? Shame? Fear? What’s going on here…?
St. Paul prayed these words –
as a faithful and devout Jew he knew them well – and it’s my hunch they
partially inform what he’s trying to tell us today. Now here’s the thing: in Greek, Paul’s words are really helpful –
they are clear and descriptive in his world – but they are confusing when we
put them into English. All that flesh and spirit talk – what the devil is going
on – how is that news I can use? So let
me put it like this: Paul is trying to
tell us two things.
· First he wants us
to remember that each of us has a selfish and cruel side and a loving and
tender side. Do you think that is
true? Can you think of times or
experiences that brings out your worst self? How about your best and most loving self?
· The first truth
in Paul’s words is that everybody has these two sides – without exception – it
is just how we’re made. And the second
truth is that nobody can be consistently good – or gentle – or tender and
loving. Nobody. No matter how hard we
try, no matter what we think, say or do, nobody can consistently live in the
spirit.
· Are you with
me? Does that ring true?
So
what are we to do with this truth? Give
up? Take our lives? Quit trying?
This is where the psalm comes back in because Paul simply says that when
we bump up against our selfish side – our broken or even sinful side – that’s
when we need to cry out to the Lord: Out of the depths, I cry to you, O Lord –
hear my voice! Cry out in your car –
cry out in the shower – cry out when you go downstairs to the basement to
finish the laundry – cry out on your way to work. Cry out to the Lord and keep crying out
because… what does the psalm tell us right there in verses 4 through 6?
(Take a Bible
to someone in the congregation and ask them to read it out loud)
There
is forgiveness with you…
So I will wait
for the Lord, my soul waits,
and
in his forgiving word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who
watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning my soul waits
for the Lord’s forgiveness.
Conclusion
Last
week I spoke to you of not wasting your time – not wasting it on crazy-making
people or soul-devouring situations that just drain you from the love you want
to share – and now let me take that deeper.
Most of us will never be a part of a huge shift in our culture or
politics. That is, we’re not likely to find ourselves standing with the prophet
Ezekiel and prophesying to the dry bones to stand up and have life. Nor are we apt to be called by the Lord to
cry out and evoke the resurrection of Lazarus in our life time. These moments
come and go in history – and are happening all around us – but my hunch is that
most of us will continue to live our out our days doing small things.
· Little acts of
mercy – tiny gifts of tenderness – petty sins and seemingly insignificant
failures that we may think don’t really matter.
But they do – cumulatively they matter – both the blessings and the
curses. Over time the little things shape our soul and character.
· And what I have
come to realize is that the little psalms help keep me grounded in this truth.
The little psalms point me towards the gentle ways of kindness and hope. They give me permission to cry out to the
Lord when I am afraid – or need forgiveness – and they offer me a small sense
of God’s presence when I am alone and confused.
And
I don’t know about you, but I need all the help I can get. I need help recalling that I am forgiven, I need help trusting, I
need help letting go of my inequities and resting in God’s grace from out of my
depths. And probably you do, too.
· So here is what I
want to leave you with this morning: God
refuses to quit on us. We are never alone – even when we feel
empty – the emptiness is a small sign of God’s mysterious presence. God does not forsake or abandon us – God
forgives and loves us – softly and tenderly.
· And the more we
nourish an awareness of these small clues, the more we can rest in God’s
peace. Mostly God’s love – and our
faithfulness – is revealed in the small things – like the psalms we sing that
are squeezed in-between the so-called important readings.
And
that, beloved, is the good news for today for those who have ears to hear.
2 comments:
Final scene, the original film Trip to Bountiful, with Cynthia Clawson singing Softly and Tenderly over the departing car-- we're talking hair-standing-straight-on-end moving...
Ain't that right? I will never forget that as long as I am in this realm. I think that was where I first heard it and it has become a favorite ever since. Love to you my man... you are in my thoughts and prayers often. (BTW I will send an email tomorrow re: other links. Seems I can't get into some of your works.)
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