Text: Psalm 23
This is the first time that we have met together as the church virtually, and it may not be the last. As many other communities, denominations, churches, and groups have complied with the self-quarantine recommendations from our federal and state government, a different mood has taken shape around us that may not be affirming or a blessing. We may not want this, but it is here, and we are still called by God.
In our case, gone, for now, are the handshakes, the hugs, the warm words of support when prayers have been sought by another. Gone are the inside jokes shared between members and families, the gentle “ribbing” from one to another replaced by silence and the steadfastness of this situation.
Today we will not see children embracing their parents and hear whispers of “I love you” passed so willingly, and so tenderly. Perhaps you will leave your home today and venture to the store only to find empty shelves or smaller stores closed all together and feel that this image is the physical, real-world, expression of what you feel inside—emptier, lonelier, isolated, maybe a bit dusty and unused. Frustrated that it has come to this.
As citizens, we have engaged in defining what it means to be an “essential” business or gathering and, I can say, that the vagueness of this definition is hard to work with for many of you. I have listened to you struggle with what that idea means, or maybe, what you think it should mean. None of us have a completely good taste in our mouth because of it.
And right alongside of this “social distancing,” this conversation about “essential businesses” comes “distancing” of faith practices and gatherings that may feel forced upon you.
The more I sit alone, or worship alone in the church, the more I wonder about what is missing? Where do we find, and how do we identify, “lack?”
Today we are going to walk through the most familiar Psalm we have in the cannon of scripture and see what new thing God offers us as we self-quarantine as families and the church?
Move 1- Lack
I like the way the New English Bible begins the Psalm when it says, “I shall want nothing.” Maybe you are more familiar with the traditional wordage of “I shall not want.” Either way, this is a strong statement when stop and consider it today.
New Testament professor James Howell says it this way when referring to Psalm 23:
We've read it, uttered it, delighted in it: but have we thought about it? Or lived it out in reality? I shall not want? Our whole life is about wanting: I want, I shop, I look, and when I have it, I want new stuff. In our consumer culture, I shall want, I shall always want. I shall never stop all my wanting because the mall entices me with ever new, shiny, unnecessary objects, and I am instructed from childhood on to want—and not merely to want, but to have.[1]
That is a strong sentiment and it carries a theological construct to it also. We want. . . We want. . . a lot. That sense of wanting leads to the realization, or a choice to think, that I believe that I am missing something. I do not have what I want. I don’t want to worship in this way. I don’t want to quarantine like this. I lack. And so, if I lack then I take steps, sometimes drastic steps, to get what I want and get it right now.
Not to put it too lightly, but the physical manifestation of this lack, or the fear of it, is visible in those same grocery stores we have visited this week during the self-quarantine. I shall want… I shall always want. And more than just wanting. . . I shall do what I must to have.
Now I am not making light of the need to buy food and supplies to provide for your family and their needs, but watching person after person push each other out of the way, and I did see this in front of the ground beef on Monday, makes me wonder about how we define “lack” and “need” and what God’s word says about that. It also makes me begin to think about how I define spiritual lack.
But the meaning of this phrase goes deeper than needing extra ground beef, it moves in a spiritual/relational direction that can say something about my trust in God and God’s ability to care and provide when we are in a situation such as this.
The longer that I sit with the affirmation “I shall want nothing,” the more those words draw me into a place of introspection that is personal. In that place questions begin to surface if I sit in this place of apparent lack and reflect about how I did not anticipate this happening, and yet do I think that God is here? I begin to wonder, and perhaps you do as well:
· Does my life proclaim that because I am in union with God, I want nothing because God provide?
· Which of my choices are acted upon from a place of personal pride and selfish ambition and not from a place of intimacy in Christ based on a deep trust in God and God’s promises?
· Do I lack the perspective to believe that God is in control of the world, when those around me, and those I see on TV, and those I work with, and those whom I read about, affirm that the world is falling apart at its core? And so, steps are taken to control and manipulate.
Psalm 23 helps me affirm that “I shall want nothing” because God is providing for me in all areas of my life. That word does not diminish my need to provide for my family, but it helps me reorient my mind toward the message of this Psalm and away from actions that bring no glory to God because they do not support my affirmation that ‘I shall want nothing.’
Move 2- God provides
Because if we are not careful when we act and speak, if we do not mind our thoughts and consider the implications of them in the lives of other people in our church community, we might just be guilty of confessing that God does not shelter me and therefore I must do the work myself. I must bend the world toward my desire and my feeling.
The grandeur of this passage is found in how the passage is formulated and constructed.
James Limburg points out that, in the original Hebrew of Psalm 23, there are exactly twenty-six words before and after, "Thou art with me." Perhaps the poet was boldly declaring that God being with us is at the very center of our lives.
God is with us. We are not alone down here. The whole Gospel is that God is with us. Jesus was called "Emmanuel," which means "God with us." John Wesley's dying words were, "The best of all is, God is with us." God doesn't shelter us from trouble. God doesn't magically manipulate everything to suit us. But the glorious with is unassailable, unchangeable, the only fact that matters.[2]
God is here even when I feel alone, isolated, separate from the community and the church body physically.
God provides in a powerful, and yet, unexpected way in our lives. Even when we feel alone, isolated, forced apart against our choice, a choice we might not have made if it was given to us in totality, and I know some of you do feel that way, remember God’s with is in the process, and the habit, of providing his presence for us.
Move 3-
One of the obvious struggles in times such as this is not only remembering and confessing this action of God in our lives, but also living it out for those who cannot find it themselves. This is a struggle based on trust in one form or another.
How many times have you heard, or said to another person, that trust is earned not given? But when we come to Psalm 23, when we are confronted with a theology of trust as this Psalm speaks of, where do we locate that trust in the Almighty?
Here God asks the church who comes to this Psalm for comfort and support to trust in God’s own ability to provide and care. We are not asked to confess it on our timeline or in a way that supports our will. Instead, can we, with clarity and trust, affirm that whatever is occurring in this time, is doing so with God before us? Can we trust in Him?
We do not have to take extraordinary steps to act for our own lives, God is present to do that for us in these words.
We do not need to worry about wanting. There is no need to act as those outside of the church who work to control and manipulate to get what they want. God is with and we have to trust that.
Many years ago, a colleague of mine was sitting in bible study. She was shaken but did not share it with the group. Recently her father was in a near-fatal car accident. The driver of the other car fell asleep, veered into the wrong lane, and struck her car. The mangled car was pried off this woman’s father.
He would face a long road of physical therapy and recovery. There would be improvement and then decline in health. But the family, and this pastor, maintained that God was with them because her father was alive.
Fast forward a few years back to this bible study. . . The topic was about how God cares for us and the pastor shared her story with the affirmation that God was with them because he lived. An old, chubby, gray pastor started to chuckle.
“My friend,” he said, “God would have been there if he wasn’t okay too.” And he smiled genuinely.
The pastor was dumb-struck. After a moment she began to cry. It was then for her, and now for us in the world of the corona virus, that we trust in the God who is with us whether we are together in this building or not. Whether we are meeting or not. Whether we are at home, as I was quite a bit this week or not.
Trust that God is with you and with us. This is the message of Psalm 23 that we hold fast too now.
Conclusion
The challenge of this Psalm comes when we confront our lives of wanting and not lacking with the trust God places upon us. The grandeur of this passage is that God is able to provide for us in all areas of life, can we trust in that and not act to provide for ourselves as if we are the ones who need to do all the work?
[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4385 accessed on 3/19/20. Emphasis in original commentary.
No comments:
Post a Comment