Sermon Lent 4

3/22/20

(1 Samuel 16:1-13; Ps. 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41)

            These are difficult times, aren’t they?

            Sisters and brothers in Christ, it’s good to be with you.  And we can be together in spirit, in this way: hearing scripture, saying the prayers, together sharing what is in our hearts with God.   Someone once told me that one of his favorite things about the Lord’s Prayer was knowing that that prayer was being said somewhere on earth every second of every day; and in his imagination all those prayers sailed up to their own special level of the atmosphere, miles up, circling the globe, wrapping it in that prayer, all the time; and whenever he said the Lord’s Prayer he was joining with everyone else in doing their own tiny little bit to replenish it.

            So we can be together, as a church.  We are together.  And we need to be together, and not just for ourselves, especially now. These are difficult times for the whole world.  There’s anxiety, because of fear of the coronavirus, and because of the massive disruption of all our lives, all ratcheted up by the uncertainty: how long is this going to last?  How bad is it going to get?  Are we doing enough to be safe?  Is it possible to be safe?  And it’s a matter of life and death.

            God calls us, as the Body of Christ, to address that anxiety, that fear, in concrete ways, not only in our own lives, but those of everyone around us.  So we need to be together especially these days: to refresh our faith, to draw strength from each other, from our fellowship in Christ.

            By the grace of God, there are a couple of things we heard in the readings today that speak to all this.  The first is something that reminds us of the big picture: something that governs all the circumstances of our lives, good and bad.

            There are no more comforting words in the Bible than the 23rdPsalm (which we just heard, certainly one of the most universally familiar pieces of scripture of them all.)  And by comfort I don’t mean a pat on the head.  True comfort – comfort that heals pain and suffering – true comfort is in hearing the truth: God’s truth, which brings hope. This is the 23rdPsalm. That’s why it never gets old.

            And there’s something at the heart of this psalm – something at the literal center – that is the source of its unique power. In the first three verses, the psalmist describes for us who God is, and what God does.  God is his shepherd: the one who cares for him, and guides him, and keeps him from harm.  God takes him to green pastures, and still waters: to where there is abundant life, and to what is essential to life.  And God guides him along right pathways: provides sustenance for his soul, for what makes him truly human; because that’s just who God is.  He’s talking about God in his own life, but we know, hearing it, that’s who God is for each of us. 

            But then, in the fourth verse, the psalmist suddenly turns from telling us about God – speaking about God in the third person – to speaking directly to God, speaking in the second person, in the middle of the sentence: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me….”: he seems literally to turn to God with those last four words.  In the original Hebrew, there are 26 words that precede these four, and 26 after them. So these four words are the heart of the what the psalmist is trying to get across: God is right here, with me; and with you.

            This is Square One, for us as people of faith. You and I are in the same position – all the time – as the person who sings this song, this psalm: God is with us, here, now.  That’s the truth, and therefore that’s the comfort.  And he puts it in the same circumstances we’re in right now: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”  God’s truth is always there.  God’s love for us is always there.  God’s mercy is always there.  God’s power is always there.

            And all that gives us life: new life; rich life: when we least expect it.  “You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me.”  You set abundant nourishment before me, when what threatens me directly – what I should fear – is staring me in the face.

            Well, here we are. 

            I’m going to quote now from a daily email blast sent out by the bishop of Atlanta, Rob Wright.  This past Friday he wrote about what this verse says to us today, and I’m going to close with what he said, because I can’t put it better:

“The presence of an enemy is not the absence of God or God’s blessing, for us, just the opposite.  God does God’s best work with the faith we offer in the face of the enemy.  Covid-19 is here and its consequences will be present for some time.  Still, Psalm 23 puts us on high alert for God’s blessings!  Now is the time to lean into our God and our faith at our kitchen tables with family devotions.  Now is the time to look for the grace in this disruption.  Now is the time to see the foolishness in our partisanship and find the unity possible as we face a common enemy.  Now is the time to appreciate with new gratitude the portion of health we do enjoy.  Now is the time to defy the enemies of compassion and peace and to be other-centered; to strengthen the weak, console the fearful and encourage the sick and lonely. No enemy in two thousand years has been able to cancel the church.  In every age, all the enemy has ever accomplished is the rekindling of our commitment to the genius and indestructibility of the power of love as taught and lived by Jesus of Nazareth.”

                                                                                                Amen.