The Psalms, as we know them, are Jewish writings that often reflected events in the lives of the ancient Israelites - and always mirrored their emotions, passions, and feelings. Contrary to more conservative opinion, the 150 psalms in our Bible were not penned by King David or King Solomon, nor did God compose them.
In fact, we do not know for sure how the psalms came to be – at the least whether women or men authored them and certainly not who those individuals might actually have been. You see, before the psalms were written down and became part of our Biblical canon, they were songs – folk melodies. Authorship was never an important consideration.
So, you see, there is a lot we do not know about the psalms. However, what we do know is that, in an uncanny way, they touch on our most profound human emotions. In many ways, the psalms are like prayers, off-the-record conversations you and I might have had with God, moments of spiritual eavesdropping. If we take the time to look, it is easy to find ourselves buried – and sometimes not very deeply – in the psalms.
Were we to thumb through the psalms, we would find songs of immeasurable happiness (“Clap your hands with joy, all peoples”) as well as abject despair (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”). We would find pleas for forgiveness (“Because of your great mercy, God, wipe away my sins.”). We would discover cries for vengeance. (“Babylon, you will be destroyed. Happy is the man who pays you back for what you have done to us – who takes your babies and smashes them against a rock.”). Yup – that is in one of the psalms – and maybe at one time or another, you have felt that way too.
In most psalms, we find the singer eventually coming round to praising God for God’s unending compassion toward humanity. (“Even in my suffering, I was comforted because your promise brought me life.”). But not always: Sometimes the praise just cannot be found (“You, God, have made even my closest friends abandon me, and darkness is my only companion.”). In the psalms, we find ancient people doing and being and saying a lot of things that remind us of ourselves – if we dare to look into our hearts.
The psalms were sung in a variety of settings and were passed on orally – by voice rather than by the written word – from generation to generation. Psalm 107, part of which we just read this morning, was likely used in worship. If we were to read the entire psalm, we would notice a repetition of phrases that is reminiscent of a responsive reading. Its distinctive symmetry and order is like a litany.
Psalm 107 begins with a call to praise God, for God is the one who had rescued the Jewish people and brought them home, “back from foreign countries,” the psalmist proclaims, “from east and west, from north and south.” How meaningful those words must have been to the Israelites after they had returned to Jerusalem from Babylon, where they had been exiled for decades as war bounty.
Again, if we were to read this psalm in its entirety, we would notice that it continues after the opening verses with the narration of four vignettes, little stories of people in trouble. There are the fools that we read about, the ones starving to death, the suffering sick who needed to be healed. The Psalmist also describes sailors in trouble on the high seas, prisoners suffering in their chains, and people wandering lost and aimless in the desert.
The form of the psalm repeats itself precisely each time. First, there is a description of the event and the distress it has caused – hunger and thirst in the desert, gloom and darkness among those imprisoned, the suffering of the fools, the danger sailors faced at sea.
Then there is, in each instance, a recitation about prayer and its results - “Then in their trouble they called to the Lord, and God saved them from their distress.”
Following are details of what God did: God led the wanderers out of the desert; God broke the prisoners’ chains; God healed the sick and starving; God calmed the raging seas and brought the sailors safely to port.
Finally, there is a demand to thank God. Again, the wording is always identical: “They must thank the Lord for his constant love, for the wonderful things God did for them.”
Old Testament scholar Nancy Claisse-Walford sums up the psalm and its structure well. She writes, “Are the four vignettes actual accounts of deliverance by the Lord sung in celebration at a festival? Or is the psalm purely a literary composition, with the four groups representing "all those who have experienced the redemption of the Lord"? (James L. Mays) Whether the vignettes narrate real events or are metaphoric examples, the words of Psalm 107 are heartfelt words of celebration of divine deliverance.”
This psalm raises two important points that I will focus on briefly this morning. The first is a question. Just whom might this psalm touch deeply? In other words, who is this psalm for anyway? Does it have any relevance to me and to my circumstances? The answer, I believe, is quite simple.
If you have ever felt that you were at the end of your rope, at your wits’ end, then this psalm is for you – and I would suggest that includes each one of us. As Presbyterian pastor Philip McLarty writes, “This speaks to us all, at some time or another. You’re going about your business, not causing trouble, doing your part, when all of a sudden, disaster strikes and the rug is pulled out from under you.
• The stock market falls and wipes out a lifetime of savings.
• The pathology report comes back with evidence of cancer.
• A competing firm buys out your company and your job is outsourced overseas.
• You get a call in the middle of night saying there’s been an accident, and your son or daughter is in the hospital and you need to come quickly.
These things happen, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it. How do you to explain to a young couple why their baby was born with birth defects?
The Good News of this psalm is that, in all four examples of helplessness and despair, God proves (God’s) faithfulness. God hears the cry of the needy and responds with compassion and love. Listen! Four times the psalmist writes,
“Then in their trouble they called to the Lord, and God saved them from their distress.”
It’s a matter of faithfulness … God’s faithfulness. God is faithful, even when we are not. God is faithful, even when we bring misery on ourselves. God is faithful, even when it’s due to circumstances beyond our control. God is faithful. Herein lies our hope.”
Your life may seem perfect, but it will not always be that way because no matter who we are, life is not fair. It may not have happened to you yet, but the pathology report (or its equivalent) will arrive, the midnight phone call (or its equivalent) will come. The bottom will, at one time or another, fall out of your life – and when it does, remember this psalm – and remember our faithful God.
“Then in their trouble they called to the Lord, and God saved them from their distress.”
The second point I want us to consider is the opening verse of the psalm. “Give thanks to the Lord, because God is good; God’s love is eternal.” So important is this call for thanksgiving that the psalmist tells us to “repeat these words in praise of the Lord.”
Over my 35+ years in ministry, I have frequently heard people say they come to worship in order to be comforted. The way they see it, worship is their personal time to lay down their troubles before God, to cry out in their distress, to get it (whatever “it” may be) off their chest.
Worship is their personal time to be comforted – and to forget. It is their time to step out of our complex world and back into a simpler, seemingly easier time – before the pathology report, before the accident. Now I do not have anything against finding comfort in church. However, I do find that particular attitude toward worship to be very self-centered.
Worship is not about us. It is not about you, and it is not about me. Worship is about God. Worship is about giving our best to God. Worship is about praising God. It is about thanking God.
It is about how we continue to thank God when Sunday morning is over. And that is why I find this particular psalm so relevant this morning.
Remember the repetitive form of this psalm. As worshippers, we are involved twice in this symmetry. First, we seek comfort. That is true. We cry out to God in our distress. But second, we thank God for God’s constant love. For the wonderful things God does.
In the end, we do not come to worship only to be comforted. Above all, we come to worship to thank God. That is why the psalmist tells us right from the start – repeat these words – give thanks to God. Repeat these words – give thanks to God.
When we get all tangled up in the form of worship, we need to step back and remember why we are here. It is not about us. It is about God.
The question is not: Does this sermon bring me comfort? Does this hymn make me feel comfortable? The question is: Am I thanking God by giving my best to God when I worship? Has this worship experience caused me to reflect more deeply on God’s message of justice, reconciliation and peace, so that I can continue to thank God in the actions I take in my life beyond these four walls?
In the end, worship is more about theology and how we understand our relationship to God than anything else – and the foundation of that relationship is not comfort, it is in living lives of thanksgiving.
When I come to worship, am I preparing myself to thank God – not just for an hour on Sunday morning, but I would suggest, more importantly, for the other 167 hours in the week? Am I giving thanks to the Lord in all that I do because God is good, and God’s love is eternal? Repeat these words - “giving thanks to the Lord because God is good, and God’s love is eternal.”
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine
www.rvccme.org
No comments:
Post a Comment