Psalm 23 – Salvaged Faith

Singing in the Valley

Posted on October 11, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 23 and Psalm 98:1-3

In May of this year, my family gathered in northwest Iowa to bury my grandpa.
I stood in front of those loved ones and recited those familiar words of the twenty-third Psalm.
The Lord is my shepherd…
You know, we imagined that this was a temporary act of closure… a private graveside service that would give way to a much larger celebration of his life once the danger of the coronavirus subsided.
We are still waiting for that celebration.
I’ve walked beside so many of you through the valley of the shadow of death this year.
Your grieving, like mine, has often felt incomplete.

And I think part of the “incompleteness” is that there is so much to grieve.
There is so much we have lost…
So many we have lost…
So many ways of being that have been taken from us…
We have felt isolated.
Uncertain.
Alone.

And yet, we are not alone.
We are not alone in the sense that we are all going through this experience together.
And as a congregation, we are trying our hardest to help each one of you to feel connection in one way or another.
Whether it is a Zoom coffee time or a card from a child or a call from a staff member or a caring connection buddy, our hope is that you know that you are not alone.

But we are also not alone in the sense that the people of God have faced difficult times like these before.
We can often be so focused only on this moment in time, but if we zoom out and capture the larger picture of the biblical narrative, we find ourselves written into their stories.
Think of the ancient Israelites enslaved in Egypt…
Or the time of exile in Babylon…
Imagine what it must have been like to live through the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans…
The heartbreak and disorientation, grief and doubt, suffering and loneliness…
We hold those things in common with these faithful ancestors.

And it was in those trying moments that the people of God needed to remember that they were not alone, because God had never left their side.
And they turned to songs like those familiar words of comfort from the 23rd Psalm.
This hymn is not simply a text for funerals.
It is something we pray when we are in the valley.
In the depths of despair.
When evil and death and enemies surround us.
It is a wilderness song.
Even the imagery of the shepherd, the rod and the staff, remind us of trouble:
After all, a shepherd’s rod would hold off predators;
A staff would hook around the neck of a sheep caught in a crevice or bramble.
It is a promise that in the midst of whatever difficulty we might face, God was there.
God is there.
God brings hope and comfort and restoration and hope.
It is a hymn, a poem, a song that we use to cry out from those difficult places and imagine a way forward…
Imagine the joy…
Imagine the abundance…
Imagine the possibility…
All by the grace of God.

I’m reminded of the words of Sandra McCracken as she explains what it is like to sing our way forward:

I wrote the title track for the album, God’s Highway, with a friend of mine, Thad Cockrill and playing through the song it was actually a really dark season for me. I was kind of in a fog. And as we were writing, I remember trying to write and express how I was feeling. Thad, very pastorally, said, “You know the old spirituals would sing not about where we are in the moment. Not ‘my feet are tired’ and you know ‘I’m in a fog,’ but ‘My feet are strong. My eyes are clear.’” This way of singing ourselves forward. Sometimes with tears, sometimes with defiance, sometimes with great celebration.

When we find ourselves in the valley of the shadow of death we have to find ways to sing our way forward.
Sing our way forward with celebration and with joy.

All of which brings us to Psalm 98.
Over the next few weeks, we’ll be exploring this hymn, this prayer, as we think about what it means for us to be “together for joy.”

And we start with just the first three verses.
Like Psalm 23, when we read behind the lines, we remember that life was not always so grand for the people of God.
Why else would we need God’s right hand and holy arm to bring us victory?
Robert Alter notes that this word, victory, is actually rooted in the Hebrew word for rescue, which reminds me once again of the Shepherd’s rod and staff. (The Hebrew Bible – The Writings, p. 231)
While the specific enemy might not be specified, we are singing a new song because God is the one who can rescue us from the chaos, the struggle, the uncertainty, the despair.
In the face of these enemies…
In the face of the nations…
In the face of all that would destroy us…
we experience God’s bounty, God’s abundance, God’s restoration.
It’s like a table, prepared for us, in the presence of our enemies.
Anointing and blessing and overflowing…
How could we not sing when we remember God’s marvelous love?
How could we not rejoice in the face of God’s kindness and faithfulness?

Praise lifts us up from the valley…
Raises our spirits from the mire…
Sets our eyes on the truth of who we are:
Beloved children of God.

“Praise is a ladder for our spirits, a gift to help us climb up out of the shadows and into the light to get a new perspective on things, if only briefly. Praise brings us back in touch with the truth of our situation.” (Together For Joy)

I love that line… praise brings us back in touch with the truth of our situation.
It reorients us.
It helps us remember what is precious and what is essential.
And that, simply, is God.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Leadership Institute through the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection.
One of our keynote speakers was Ronald Heifetz.
Now, if you have ever read anything about adaptive leadership in the secular world… Heifetz was probably behind it.
For nearly twenty years, he has been consulting and teaching about what it means to lead in the world today… especially in the midst of difficult circumstances that require us to build new capacity and change the way we operate.
What I really appreciated about this particular lecture, however, is that he shared from his own faith tradition.
Heifetz talked about how the Jewish faith adapted after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem because of the leadership of Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai.
In this valley of the shadow of death, the Jewish people turned their eyes in praise towards God and discovered the truth of their situation.
They had to figure out what was precious and essential to their faith to carry forward.
They had to figure out what was no longer serviceable and needed to be discarded.
And that had to figure out what innovation would allow them to take the best of their history into the future.

Heifetz went on to talk about how the Rabbi helped the people to sing old familiar songs in new ways.
With the Temple destroyed, the sanctuary of God moved from a physical to a spiritual structure and became centered on the home. Wherever the family was, there would be a sanctuary.
The priestly functions were taken on by the parent in the home, who would recite the blessings upon the family.
Rabbis took on greater authority in interpreting the text for the time and place.
Prayer that was built upon sacrifice and petition became a matter of the heart and a personal experience of God.

In the midst of their crisis, in the midst of the valley, they learned that what was precious and essential was not the Temple itself, but their relationship with God.
The God who spoke creation into being.
The God who led them out of Egypt.
The God who had been with them through every valley and time of exile and trouble.
And that God was leading them into a new future.
Turning their hearts to praise, they knew they could trust in the marvelous things God had done… and would do… for them.
They discovered new ways of being together for joy.

In the midst of this moment in the life of our church, we are discovering what is essential and precious as well.
The love of Christ that binds us together.
The grace of God that overcomes our failures.
The challenge of the Holy Spirit that pushes us onward to the Kingdom.
We are discovering what old songs we can sing in a new way.
Next week, we’ll talk more about some of the joyful things we are discovering, but for today, let me simply say this:
You are not alone.
In the midst of the grief…
In the midst of the valley…
When you aren’t quite sure where you are going…
Fix your eyes on God.
Cling to the one who has never left your side.
And sing.

They Recognized His Voice

Posted on May 3, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 10:1-4,10-11; 21:1-14

In these weeks after Easter, I’ve been spending a lot of my time reading and thinking about the resurrection appearances of Jesus.

They seem like a natural way to spend our time… as we find ourselves looking for signs of resurrection and hope in the midst of our own time of difficulty.

What surprised me as I turned to the lectionary, however, is that this year, our readings take us not on a journey with the disciples AFTER Easter, but take us back to Jesus debating with the Pharisees and teaching the disciples about what it means to be a shepherd.

This week in our bible study, we talked about the hopes of people in the time of Jesus for the coming Messiah. One of the primary metaphors the prophets used was that of a shepherd.

Moses prayed that God would anoint someone who would lead the people so they wouldn’t be like sheep without a shepherd. (Numbers 27:15-17)

Ezekiel shared God’s promise that his people would not be scattered forever, but that a single shepherd from the line of David would be sent to feed them. (34:5,23)

As the Pharisees start to test Jesus and push on the edges of who he said he was, Jesus responded that he was the Good Shepherd.

The shepherd who would call the sheep by name and bring them in and lead them out.

The shepherd who would bring abundant life.

The shepherd who would lay down his life for the sheep if necessary.

You know… not many of us have grown up around sheep.

And even if we have, the way we might shepherd today in the west is very different from how they would have done it in Jesus’ day.

So how about a little ancient shepherding 101?

First, where we might herd our sheep, pushing them towards their destination with dogs or other animals to aid us, the shepherd’s of Jesus day would have led their flocks.

He would have stood near the front, in their midst, and where he walked, they would have walked.

Wherever he went, they would go.

The sheep would have known his voice, the voice of the one who protected them… and would also have known the voice of a stranger who might harm them.

When their names were called by their gentle shepherd, they would go.

As I read more about sheep this week, I learned that they are smarter than we give them credit for.

Sheep have excellent long-term memories. In fact, in a study, a group of animals was shown pictures of the faces of other sheep. When presented with some, they were given treats, but with others nothing.

Time and time again, when presented with a choice between a face that produced a treat and a face that produced nothing, they knew the difference.

They recognized the faces of other sheep.

Sheep carefully discern who they can trust…

Who will seek the best for them…

And once they recognize that person, they will follow them anywhere.

Fast-forward through Jesus ministry with me for a bit.

Past Palm Sunday and the trial and crucifixion…

Past the days of fear and trembling for the disciples where they were huddled up in their homes… or had scattered to the winds…

Past the rumors of resurrection…

Past even those first two appearances to the uncertain disciples.

John’s gospel tells us that a few weeks out from the resurrection, the disciples are tired of hiding.

They are tired of being scared.

They don’t know yet how this whole resurrection thing has really changed their lives.

They want to return to a normal life… but they aren’t sure what that means.

Do we go back to the life of ministry when we were following Jesus? Or do we go back to whatever time there was before?

Peter suddenly stands up one day and proclaims, “I’m going fishing.”

It’s what he knows how to do.

And it’s something to do.

So five other disciples decide to go with him and spend the whole night on the boat.

They catch absolutely nothing.

But to be honest, it was probably nice to just be out.

To breathe in the fresh air.

To look up at the stars.

To reflect and ponder and wonder what was going to come next.

You see, they were feeling a little lost.

Jesus was alive, but he wasn’t there.

Some of them had scattered.

They didn’t know where to go next or what to do.

They were like sheep without a shepherd.

But as dawn began to break, they looked to the shore and saw someone standing there.

A voice carried over the water: “Have you caught anything?”

No, they hadn’t.

Their nets were empty.

“Cast your net on the right side and you’ll find some.” The voice called back.

Whether or not they could fully recognize the voice, they could recognize the command.

You see, they had been on boats before.

They had been asked to trust, and have faith, and cast their nets one more time before.

They had witnessed the miracles of abundance when they could barely pull them in because they were so packed with the catch.

Can you imagine how their hearts must have started beating?

Can you feel the adrenaline?

They tossed their nets and they literally couldn’t bring the net back up it was so full.

They knew his voice.

They knew their shepherd.

They knew this was Jesus.

And Peter simply can’t contain himself but dives in the water and heads straight for the shore.

The rest of the disciples follow, dragging both the boat and the net with them.

Before they have even stepped on dry land, there is a fire and fish cooking for breakfast.

You see, the Good shepherd provides for his flock.

Provides safety and comfort.

Food and warmth.

I love this line from John 21:12 “None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ They knew it was the Lord.”

The sheep know the sound of their shepherd’s voice.

They recognize his face.

They know who he is by the provision he offers… both the abundance in their nets and the meal set before him.

You know, I think we, like the disciples, are eager for a little bit of normalcy.

Unsure of what comes next, we might want to rush back into exactly what had been.

We want to get back to places and people that brought us joy. Like this video that you sent in of a beautiful afternoon on a lake…

[video, then back to camera]

For you, it might not be fishing, but it might be going into work…

Sitting in your classroom…

Hanging out with friends…

Joining together in ministry…

Gathering with your family…

Heck, even commuting is starting to look good these days!

The disciples were scattered and lost and unsure and so they turned first to what they knew.

They got in a boat and cast out a net.

But you know what, Jesus had called them from that life once before.

He gave them a glimpse of something different.

Something better.

He gave them a purpose that was beyond what they had known.

Beyond the familiar.

Beyond the comfortable old routines.

He gave them authority and power.

He took their gifts and transformed them.

To simply go back is not what our shepherd has in mind.

No, Jesus doesn’t want that old life… Jesus wants us to experience abundant life.

He wants everything that was to be transformed by what he is offering.

And as soon as they see their shepherd, they know it.

They know that there are things they have learned along the way that have changed them.

They know they are different than when they started.

They know that they are being led in a new direction.

They can see the abundance that awaits if only they have the courage to follow.

I’ve been thinking a lot about these times.

Will we head right back to what is familiar when this is all over?

Or will we patiently wait for the voice of Christ to lead us?

You see, our Good Shepherd is watching over us.

Right now, he is leading us through this valley of the shadow of death by keeping us safely within the fold… in our homes and with our family.

Through the kindness of our neighbors and strangers, we have been able to find still waters and green pastures.

Even in the face of our enemies of illness and isolation and even death, our shepherd is setting a table of abundance.

Abundant kindness.

Abundant time with the people who are closest to us.

Abundant creativity.

The cup is overflowing it is so full.

Will we allow ourselves to be filled up in this time of shelter and safety?

And when the gate opens, will we not just rush out, heading our own way, going back to what is familiar, but will we let the shepherd lead us?

Stand in the midst of us.

Guide us.

Will we listen to his voice?

May it be so.

Amen.

A Place at the Table

Posted on May 6, 2018Leave a comment

Yesterday, my husband and I took advantage of the beautiful day to do some work in the yard. One of our primary tasks for the day was to take care of some problematic trees and shrubs and to work on the perennials.
Needless to say, like the vineyard keeper in John’s gospel we did some trimming, pruning, and we removed a lot of dead growth!

The first summer we moved into our home here in Des Moines, we made some of those drastic cuts and changes as well. The backyard was fairly overgrown and crowded. Some of the bigger trees were unhealthy, but because they were so large, they were limiting growth of some of the smaller, more healthy trees. We had a company come in to help us trim the canopy and remove dead limbs.

We ended up with five cords of firewood, a lot more space and air and sunshine, and mulch for our flower beds. It was then that we could start making plans about what new life we wanted to add to the back yard.

I have to admit that there was a part of me that really worried about trimming back as much as we did. That first summer, things appeared kind of bare and I was afraid that we had made changes we couldn’t come back from or that cutting back that drastically would actually damage the trees.
But as I looked out at the yard yesterday morning, I realized that we had created space for other plants to grow and flourish and that all over the trees where we had removed dead, overgrown branches, there was new growth in all the right places.

You see, all of those trees and plants – the ones that were trimmed back, the ones that had been overcrowded, and the new ones we planted… they all were still connected to their source of life. They got sunshine and rain, were able to put strong roots into the ground, and there was space for them all to grow.

In John’s gospel we are reminded that sometimes in life there needs to be trimming and transplanting in order for there to be growth.

As I thought about our gifts and talents surveys, I’m reminded of that old adage that 20% of the people tend to do 80% of the work.
Sometimes, that is because this world is full of busy people.
But sometimes, it is because those folks who have a passion for the work – whether it is here at church or in some other volunteer organization – just scoop up all of the opportunities to serve. We are so quick to say yes and to jump in and do the task that sometimes we haven’t created space for other people to join in. Sometimes our big healthy trees need to take a breath and cut back just a bit so that there is room for new folks to join in or room for new growth in other places.
That’s one reason these surveys are so important. They help us to know what you are interested in so that we can personally invite you into new spaces and we can see where we need to create room for new voices and perspectives to be heard.
So please, fill them out!

What is important to remember – whether we are new to this community of faith or if we have been planted here for decades – is that we remain connected to God.
Remain in me, Jesus said, and I will remain in you.
Abide in me. Allow me to give you life.
I will lead you beside still waters and help you to rest in grassy meadows and will guide you through what seems like death and will protect you.
I promise, Jesus says, you will experience growth.
If you stay connected with me, you will bear fruit!

Bishop Laurie reminded me of two strange truths about this passage from John in her weekly blog this week.
The first is that “Jesus doesn’t say, ‘I hope you’ll choose to be a branch on my tree.’” We are already connected. Our very life and breath means that God is the source of our being.
We don’t choose to be a part of God’s community. We simply are.
We can run away from that community. We can cut ourselves off.
But God has already chosen us.
You have a seat at this table.

The second, is that just as we didn’t choose to be a branch on this tree… neither did we choose who the other branches are. The Lord is our Shepherd, but we are not solitary sheep in this flock.
Bishop Laurie shared a passage from Ralph Morton who wrote:

God has set us in inescapable community,
In our family,
In our neighborhood,
In all the relationships with others that life brings…
When we are enlivened by the Spirit of Christ
We accept community and begin to live
According to the laws of our being.

(Ralph Morton, This is the Day; Readings and Meditations from the Iona Community, Month 1, Day 15, Wild Goose Publications)

On any given day, we don’t get to choose who shows up for worship in this building.
We don’t get to choose who our family is.
They simply show up – brought to us by God.

Because they have been chosen by God as well.
There is a place at this table set for them, too.
As Bishop Laurie reminded me, “Inescapable community becomes real when we intentionally enter into the relationships that life brings to us…”

It made me think about those oh so familiar words of the Psalm – that God has set a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
What if that table is not simply there for me to feast and gain strength as people I disagree with look on?
What it that table is actually meant to be shared?
What if God has placed a table right there so that I might look out at love upon my enemies.
What if I’m supposed to remember that they are branches of God’s vine.
They are sheep of God’s flock.
There is a place set for them, too.

When we abide in Jesus, when we are enlivened by the Spirit of Christ, when we take our place at this table… we discover the others that God has already placed into our midst and are invited to love them, to serve them, to pray for them…
In doing so, we all find room to grow and bear fruit.
May it be so. Amen.

Quotes from Bishop Laurie: http://www.lauriehaller.org/inescapable-community/