Who Walked With You?

Shepherd me, O God

I have been the pastor for the saints of Seneca Presbyterian Church for only two years. In these years, we've faced some difficult journeys together. Too many of those saints have walked through the land of deep darkness where they have battled for life. I am grateful to God that many have come through that journey and have arrived safely on the other side. But many have not. Many have faced tragedy that was absolutely unimaginable when first we met two years ago. Which started me to wondering. 

When a congregation selects a pastor, they look at credentials and consider theology. They analyze that first sermon to see if this is someone they can listen to for 20 minutes each week. They want to know where the person grew up and what's their favorite desert. Do they ever consider whether this person is the one they can trust to be their pastor when the way gets dark? Does it ever cross their minds that this may be the person who will visit them in the hospital or preside over a memorial service for their spouse? The thought amazes me - how significant is the choice, how trusting is the relationship, and how profound is the gift of being a pastor.

The gift of that pastoral relationship permeates the words we will consider this Sunday. They are some of the most amazing words in all scripture - the 23rd Psalm. What a treasure it is! The words are so powerful and so intimate that you know they had to come from an overwhelmingly real experience with the living God. As I have worked with the psalms over these past weeks, I have seen in them the richness of Israel's theology. I have found a new appreciation of the miracle of Hebrew faith - how in a world of distant, powerful, and disinterested gods, it articulated and embodied faith in a God who desired a relationship with humans. This is a God who can be questioned, challenged, and trusted. And the psalms do just that.

As we all prepare to worship that God this Sunday, consider:

• When have you felt led by God? 
• When have you felt protected by God? 
• When have you felt pursued by God? 
• What have been the tangible signs - the table - of God's presence in your life?

An Exercise in Empathy

www.EmpathySymbol.com

Yesterday the Thursday noon Brown Bag and Bible study group gathered at Seneca Presbyterian Church to begin our journey into the writings of the Apostle Paul. We turned to the opening verses of Paul's letter to the Philippians. We didn't have to read very far before we were overtaken by the emotions of this letter. Across the span of two thousand years, the love that Paul held for these dear friends in faith became real for us. We heard it when he spoke of joy, of how he held them in his heart, and longed for them with the compassion of Christ Jesus.

All those observations could have been just a simple intellectual exercise, but for us they became something more. I was amazed at the openness and sharing that happened among us, ignited by those words of Paul. We've always been talkative - but this time something was different. It was personal - and it was alive. It set me to wondering...

• Could it be that the honest sharing of human emotion among trusted friends is the deepest pathway to understanding, which in turn leads to reconciliation and ultimately peace?
• Could it be that we are unable to walk the journey of reconciliation until we understand the private journey of those who walk with us? 
• Could it be that the words of others, even words that are so distant from our time and place, can serve as the catalyst for deepening our own understanding and increasing our empathy for one another?

I want to test that theory this Sunday with the psalms. We have long recognized that the raw human emotions contained in the psalms can open the door for our own personal healing. But what if those words can also open the door for our inter-personal healing, for our understanding of others?  

I'll be using as my catalyst a lecture I heard from John Bell at the recent Festival of Homiletics. The stories are his - stories that come from his great capacity to engage human story as he travels the world inviting others to enter faith through song. So I am deeply appreciative of my source, and give him full credit.

I'm also glad for the opportunity to share his stories as they guide our exploration - especially of two rather unconventional psalms: Psalm 88 and Psalm 94. Neither of them appear in the lectionary. Walter Brueggemann calls Psalm 88 "an embarrassment to conventional faith." Psalm 94 could be called subversive. They are raw human emotion safely spoken aloud in God's holy presence. Read them over before Sunday - if you dare!

The Song of Faithfulness

After peering into the darkness of a searching heart in a dry land, we will consider a hymn of praise this Sunday as we gather for worship at Seneca Presbyterian. It's Psalm 103 - one of the most beautiful psalms in the psalter. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name." As with so many of the psalms, this one has been set to music often. You can join me in dating yourself if this lyric sounds familiar:

 Oh bless the Lord my soul. His praise to thee proclaim, and all that is within me 

join to bless His holy name. Oh yeah! 

Oh bless the Lord my soul. His mercies bear in mind. 

Forget not all His benefits. The Lord to thee is kind. 

 That, of course, is the Godspell version, and if you can hear it singing within you, then the joy of that exuberant moment of the stage production must live in your memory as it does in mine. The fact that this psalm appears in a musical version of the Gospel of Matthew reminds us that Jesus would have known and sung these words in praise to the God he worshiped and served. 

Aside from its pure joy, this psalm reflects the heart of Hebrew faith. Whenever our ancestors heard it, they would have remembered a story about a broken covenant and the profoundly real anger of God. You see - when the psalmist says God will not "keep His anger forever," he is not speaking metaphorically. Perhaps you already know the story, but I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with gold and calves.

We'll remember that story this Sunday as we seek to understand the meaning of the Hebrew word hesed - which is most often translated steadfast love.We hear it four times in this psalm. A quick search of the book of Psalms turns up 245 occurrences in 121 sections - which I take to mean that the steadfast love of God is referenced in 121 of the 150 psalms, with multiple occurrences in many. In that department, Psalm 136 wins the prize. 

The joy of Psalm 103 is centered in a God who knows us, loves us, and forgives us - and around whom we can center our lives. As you prepare for worship on Sunday, ponder the wonder of that God and when His steadfast love has been real for you. Then let your "whole being" honor and bless His holy name.

My Three Robes

NOT me!

Last Sunday I "debuted" my new white robe at Seneca Presbyterian Church. I mentioned in a Facebook post that I would blog about the story of "my three robes" this week. After the other national news of last Sunday, namely the terrorist shooting at the Sikh gurdwara (which I understand is the proper term for a Sikh house of worship - not a temple), the story of my three robes seems inconsequential - except for what it might say about distinctive religious attire.

Throughout my ministry - both as a Baptist and Presbyterian pastor - I've been privileged to wear a robe when helping to lead others in worship. While we might claim that a robe is worn in order to conceal the trappings of secular attire - which are often the source of judgments about the worthiness of an individual - let's face it: a ministerial robe is a symbol of authority. I try to see that authority more as responsibility and servanthood. Wearing the robe means that I have a profound responsibility to honor God in all that I do and say while seeking to serve in the role of pastor and preacher.

The "story" I was going to share spoke of the evolution of the clergy robe during my ministerial career. Robe #1: a man's academic "gown" crafted for my height and sleeve length, but still "manly" broad in shoulder - the only option available in the '70s. Robe #2: a woman's version of a man's robe, more graceful and slender in the shoulder line, but still academic - and still with big sleeves. Robe #3: chosen from an amazing set of options designed just for women - with a touch of lace. (A plug for its creators and the source of the picture. Thank you Womenspirit for your amazing works of art!) My "story" speaks of the astonishing transformation I have seen in just my lifetime. It is the evolution of acceptance. Yet still many women who long for the robe - or the priestly attire of the Roman Catholic tradition - are kept away, for they are deemed unworthy to wear the sign of authority.

Our Sikh brothers and sister who were the victims of a hate crime last Sunday were likely targeted (at least in part) because of the Sikh tradition of wearing a turban. Osama Bin Laden wore a turban - so there was guilt by association. Such role confusion is especially tragic since it is based on two deadly wrong assumptions. Sikhism is an entirely different faith from Islam, and Bin Laden did not represent Islam. And yet within the Sikh tradition, wearing a turban began as a daring gesture. When Sikhism was founded in India, turbans were worn by only the upper classes. Yet Sikhism sought to eliminate the caste system and establish equality. Hence all would wear the turban as a sign of commitment to God and the humility of faith. (See: "For Sikhs, Turban is a Proud Symbol - and a Target," Huffington Post Religion, 8/8/12)

Such holy attire is a tradition shared by our Muslim sisters with their tradition of the hijab. Distinctive dress is a sign of spiritual devotion and all-inclusive dedication. We are called to faithfulness in every moment of our lives - not just when wearing the robe. 

What if there could be Christian "holy attire" that we would wear as an unmistakable sign of our commitment to faith, our solidarity with those who suffer because of theirs, and our opposition to all expressions of violent religious intolerance, including its Christian manifestations? Would I be courageous enough and devoted enough to wear it?

The Book of Psalms

If you have ever read through the entire book of Psalms, you know what a rich and deep gift we have at the center of our Bibles. As I mentioned to the congregation of Seneca Presbyterian last Sunday, every human emotion can be found in the Psalms - including fear, pain, sorrow, longing, anger, rage (even at God), and revenge -- along with utter delight and profound joy. 

A quick aside: If you don't believe me about revenge, read Psalm 137 all the way through. It is a lament psalm sung by exiles in Babylon - basically prisoners of war. They know utter defeat and profound despair. Its final verse has been an embarrassment to the Church for centuries. Preachers debate whether or not it should be included when the Psalm is read. (Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!) I think it was Tom Long (at this year's Festival of Homiletics) who gave the best defense for inclusion I've ever heard: Let's speak these all too human words aloud in the sanctuary, where the emotion behind them can be heard by God, and redeemed.

I encourage you to read all 150 Psalms. You will find surprising, hidden gems. You will also discover that so much of the Bible which we know "by heart" comes from the Psalms. 

• My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me? (Psalm 22) 
• Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning. (Psalm 30)
• Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46)
• Create in me a clean heart, O God. (Psalm 51)
• Make a joyful noise to the Lord. (Psalm 100)
• Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name. (Psalm 103)
• I lift my eyes to the hills. From where will my help come? (Psalm 121)

To name only a VERY few. Find a psalm that sings to you - and meditate on it day and night, as Psalm 1 suggests. You will be blessed. 

The Song of Yearning

The saints of Seneca Presbyterian are working through just a few of the psalms in our services of worship as we finish out the summer. I'll be preaching on the psalms through September 9 and WELCOME suggestions about your favorites.

The psalms are important parts of worship and multiple psalms can play a role in any singular service - so suggest away. Even if your suggestion doesn't make it to the sermon, it can be a call to worship, an affirmation of faith, or even a call to prayer.

The Psalms are the holy scripture of human emotion. They know us - what motivates us, what frightens us, what drives us, and where the fullness of life can be found. Psalm 42/43 (really one psalm)  is the focus of worship this week. It is the psalm of yearning that knows we have a longing in our hearts that can only be filled by God. It was St. Augustine who put it best: Almighty God, you have made us for yourself; and our hearts are restless til they find their rest in you. Since Augustine had tried just about everything else to calm that restlessness, he should know whereof he spoke.

Psalm 42 begins with these words: As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. 

Prepare with me for worship on Sunday by pondering these thoughts:

• When have you longed for God? 
• The psalmist speaks of thirsting for God. What metaphor best describes that longing for you?
• Did God meet your need? If so, how?  
• How long did you wait? How did you wait?
• How did you let God know of your desire and need for Him?

Then join us for worship on Sunday. We will end our time of worship by satisfying our thirst for God at the communion table of grace made real in Jesus Christ.