November 08, 2009

Every branch of the Christian family tree has its unique strength, character and beauty.  Each denomination draws meaning and purpose from the central root and then grows into maturity, shaped by its own traditions, heroes and particular interpretations and values.  One branch venerates the saints, another pushes aside all ornamentation and calls them distractions.  One church elevates the sacraments, another stands only on the Word of God.  Long, loud, convicting preaching is the hallmark of one branch, while lengthy, drawn out silences is the preference of some faithful friends.  Each branch is built around the same core root, even as its shape and size takes off.  Every branch strives to remain healthy and vibrant. Each limb intends to remain true to its beginning and each hopes to carry life from its source forward, reaching out, growing in the world.  Our particular branch, the Episcopal Church, expresses its identity in an inclusive theology and its form of worship.  The older blue, white and red signs pointing the way to our parishes read “The Episcopal Church welcomes you.”  Our signs for the 21^st century now read “All are welcome.”  The message remains clear and consistent.  Wherever you are in your faith journey, however, you understand the nature of our creating God, whatever your doubts or questions, your surest convictions, or your needling assumptions, there is a place for you on this branch of the Christian tree.  Trusting the integrity of one’s prayer life, accepting one’s faithful discernment is central to our church heritage.  The intention and reverence we bring to our worship is our other defining characteristic.  Every Sunday, our time of communal praise and devotion is focused, thoughtful, participatory and layered with meaning.  Each component builds on the other for the purpose of leading us deeper and deeper into a meeting with the divine.  From the first step of the crucifer carrying the cross of Christ through the body gathered, to people’s response at the service dismissal, “Thanks be to God,” every element of this time together is set aside for the glory of God and for the elevation and edification of our souls.  The brass is polished for this purpose.  The acolytes vest then center themselves to help lead all of us to a place of awe and wonder.  The choir prepares, the ushers welcome, the chalists stand ready to serve the essence of Christ.  And the liturgy, the elegant, balanced order of worship carries us along.  The opening collect sets the morning’s theme, as the readings express the will of God and movement of his Holy Spirit in the world around us.  At the end of an Episcopal service, folk may leave touched by hymn written by Beethoven or John Wesley.  They may depart moved by a passage from the gospel accounts or by a letter written from an early church leader to the very newest Christians.  People may return home remembering the thesis of the sermon or feeling lifted up and comforted by the prayers.  Folk may go out these doors warmed by the passing of the peace or especially empowered by the ingestion of Christ’s body and blood.  Each element of our worship has a purpose and each is meant to be a gift to the body gathered. 

One component of our time together comes from the tradition of our earliest faith ancestors.  Each Sunday, we read together one of the 150 psalms gathered in our Holy Scripture.  We follow the direction of the leader or intone after the choir.  As we move along verse by verse, an interesting image may catch our attention before we’re off on the next line.  And while we recite these texts week by week, we may become immune to the import of the tradition.

The psalms may be the oldest written texts of the Bible.  They were poems composed to be sung in worship services.  They were the hymns of ancient Israel.  Many of these hymns also have a prayer-like quality, while others offer instruction for life.  These prayers for help, these songs of praise, these lessons for life were written over the course of centuries.  As they were collected and recorded, they were divided into five books to follow the pattern of the Torah.  Within the five books, one finds the Laments, the largest category of Psalms.  In these prayers there is distress either for an individual or for the community as a whole.  Sickness and adversity, betrayal and abandonment, sin and guilt, slander and false accusation, persecution and oppression by “enemies” and “the wicked” are cause for the suffering in the psalms of lament.  Situations of national disaster and defeat are the woes expressed in the communal laments.  Some of these were written in response to the Babylonian destruction of Judah, 584 years before the birth of Christ.  They refer to the exile of the best and brightest Jewish leaders.  When Nebuchadnezzar the II invaded Judah, he insured his victory and continued dominance by disrupting Israel’s education, political and religious structure.  He deported the trusted heads of state and institutions to Mesopotamia.  He left the poorest and weakest to languish in their now occupied homeland.  Living far from home, estranged from their culture, heritage, traditions, cut off from their power and freedom to determine their own destiny, the Jewish elite sang of their distress and prayed fervently for their deliverance.  From Psalm 74, we hear their cries “O God, why do you cast us off forever?  Why does your anger smoke against the sheep of your pasture?  Remember your congregation which you acquired long ago.  Remember, O Lord, how the enemy scoffs and an impious people reviles your name.  Do not forget the life of your poor forever.  Have regard for your covenant.  Do not let the downtrodden be put to shame. Rise up, O God.” 

In the Psalms, the people express their deepest feelings.  In the Laments, the faithful expose their anger and bitterness.  They fret.  They berate God for his apparent absence and disregard.  They plead their case.  They call on God to return and make things right.  They promise fidelity and improved behavior.  They make pointed demands and insist on deliverance.  The essential point articulated in the Laments is the confidence, the unfailing certainty that God is.  From the depths of despair, from a place of loss, grief and abandonment, the people still turn to the one sure source of relief.  Despite their present circumstance, either as a nation conquered or as an individual plagued by mounting adversity, the people turn to God and reveal their true feelings and their greatest needs.  They let loose their intimate, uncensored reactions.  They hold God, the Almighty, the sole everlasting power accountable for their dismay.  They speak of the wickedness of others, but they hold God responsible for making things right.  From the pit, from ravenous jaws, from the chains of the oppressor, the people call, “Good Lord deliver us.”  They move through their angst and momentary doubt and call on the name of God.  They trust he will come.  They believe he will move to save them.

They are not disappointed.  Interspersed in the psalms of lament are the songs of thanksgiving.  Having received God’s saving help, having been released and relieved from torment and grief, loss and woe, the psalmist gives thanks to God and offers praise for his goodness and steadfastness.  For the people’s gratitude, for his own appreciation, the poet sings with gladness, offering testimony to God’s constancy and power.  The Psalm appointed this morning is such a hymn of gratitude and honors God as the sure author of help and deliverance.  “Alleluia, Praise the Lord, O my soul!  As long as I live, I will praise the Lord.  I will sing his praises as long as I have breath because it is the Lord God who secures justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry, who sets captives free, who raises up the bowed down and loves the just.  It is the Lord God who protects the strangers and the fatherless and the weary.  It is the Lord God, the creator of the world, the seas and all that lives in them who keeps faith with us forever.”  The psalmist sings on our behalf, we do not put our trust elsewhere.  Rulers pass away.  There is no salvation at the hands of humans.  On the day they die, as they surely will, all their power and plans are buried in the earth with them.  They cannot save or deliver us for long.  Only God, only God endures and it is our Lord God who keeps faith forever. In the easy, joyful times, he is with us.  In the dark, lonely times, he is there as well.  When we see no way out, He comes to us and shines the light to lead us home.  “The Lord God shall reign forever, your God, O Zion, your God a faithful people gathered here.  Lord shall reign forever, throughout all generations.  Hallelujah.”

The psalms remind us in our celebrated, intentional worship that God stands forever ready to save and comfort.  The psalms now recorded, lead us in our private devotions, in our personal times of trial and moments of release and return to lift our hearts and deepest feelings to the one sure source who can and who will move to help and comfort us.

For these words and for all other great blessings, we say, Thanks be to God.