Preached a sermon at the Sung Eucharist at Croydon Minster on the Second Sunday of Lent: Genesis 15.1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3.17-4.1; Luke 13.31-end.
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This
morning, as at every Eucharist, a psalm has been recited.
This
morning it has been sung. This is right and proper because psalms, when first
composed some two and a half to three thousand years ago, were written to be
sung. The word psalm means ‘song’.
The
origins of the psalms are for use in the worship of the Temple in Jerusalem,
and in the liturgical life of Israel. By tradition the author of the psalms is
King David.
The
psalms are an integral element in the Liturgy of the Word, that part of the
Liturgy which contains the readings from the Old and New Testaments and the
Gospels . After all, Jesus himself says, ‘everything written about me in the
law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled’ (Luke 24.44).
Psalms
are from the Old Testament and have always been a feature of Christian worship
from the earliest days, because they represent the fulfilment of God’s promises
in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.
It’s
also the case that of all the books of Old Testament that Jesus quotes, the
psalms are quoted most frequently. At the end of the Last Supper, Jesus and his
disciples sang a hymn, which we could assume to be a psalm, and headed to the
Mount of Olives where Jesus would go to Gethsemane to pray. Jesus’ dying words
on the Cross – ‘my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ – are from the Book
of Psalms; they’re the opening words of Psalm 22.
The
psalms are the backbone of the Divine Office, what we know as Matins and Evensong,
the Church’s prayer in the morning and evening.
Psalms
lead us through times of exultation and praise: ‘O praise God in his holiness,
praise him in the firmament of his power!’ (Psalm
150)
they
go with us to the very depths of human experience; ‘O LORD God of my salvation,
I have cried day and night before thee : O let my prayer enter into thy
presence, incline thine ear unto my calling. For my soul is full of trouble :
and my life draweth nigh unto hell’. (Psalm
88.1,2)
they
express deep questioning; ‘Nevertheless, my feet were almost gone : my
treadings had well-nigh slipt. And why? I was grieved at the wicked : I do also
see the ungodly in such prosperity’. (Psalm
74.2,3)
and
they articulate the most profound words of trust and assurance. ‘The Lord is my
shepherd, therefore can I lack nothing’ (Psalm
23.1); ‘I will sing forever of the steadfast love of the LORD forever (Psalm 89.1)
We don’t
need always to be searching for words of our own composing; what we can do is
turn to the book of psalms for their words are given to us.
Today’s
psalm is a psalm that I first became familiar with through the most simple of
chants from the community of brothers at TaizĂ©, in France: ‘The Lord is my
light, my light and salvation, in him I trust, in him I trust.’
At times
of danger, or fear or when I am uncertain, they have been words on my lips.
Psalm 27 became a song to feed my heart.
The
custom in Jesus’ day was to quote the first verse of a psalm which was an
indicator of the whole psalm. So Psalm 22, ‘my God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?’ triggers to the hearer a psalm that is not just saying that God
has forsaken the speaker, but actually becomes a song of praise of what God has
done in raising up the afflicted from rock bottom.
Likewise,
‘The Lord is my light and my salvation whom then shall I fear?’ opens up a
wider story.
The Ukrainian
Catholic Church have quoted this psalm many times over the last two weeks. It
is not a casual or unthinking expression of hope in God when everything is
going wrong, but a deep expression of trust in God:
Though a host encamp against me,
my heart shall not be afraid,
and though there rise up war
against me,
yet will I put my trust in him.
(verse 3)
The
psalm concludes with words that could almost be written by a Ukrainian today:
Deliver me not into the will of
my adversaries,
for false witnesses have risen
up against me,
and those who breathe out
violence.
I believe that I shall see the
goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and he shall comfort
your heart;
wait patiently for the Lord. (verses 15-17)
The
words of the psalm are directly from someone in a situation of being attacked,
when people are out to kill him. Indeed that echoes David’s own situation when
he was being pursued by King Saul. The words ring true for Ukrainians today and
attacked people throughout the ages. They are true as well for Jesus as his
enemies encircled him, as the Pharisees told him, ‘Get away from here, for
Herod wants to kill you.’ (Luke 13.31).
Jesus
walks into the darkness of his impending death, not shying from the Cross, as
threat encircled him. In so doing he walks with you and me into the darkness we
face, such that we are not alone and can still sing, ‘The LORD is my light, my
light and salvation, in him I trust, in him I trust’.
The
psalmist seeks to worship God in God’s holy temple and seeks the face of the
LORD. Jesus inhabits and fulfils this psalm.
Jesus is
the New Temple, the place of sacrifice and reconciliation. This is accomplished
on the cross, and the bitter irony is that this takes place in Jerusalem.
Jerusalem means ‘city of peace’; yet is a parody of peace. The temple of
Jerusalem is supposed to be the place of encounter with the Living God, yet the
Living God, made flesh and given a face in Jesus Christ, is rejected and
killed.
The face
of the LORD is not in vengeance and destruction, but seen in the face of the
Crucified and Risen Lord.
Seeking
the face of Jesus enables us to see in the darkness, and leads us deep into the
heart of God, the heart and wellspring of life and light. Celebrating the
sacraments and receiving their grace, personal prayer and devotion, feeding the
hungry, giving water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, visiting for the sick
and imprisoned are the ways we seek to see the Lord’s face.
The
psalm revels in seeking ‘to behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to seek his
will in his temple’ (Psalm 27.5) and
to ‘offer in his dwelling an oblation with great gladness’ (27.9). Offering
that oblation is what we do now in the Eucharist.
As we
seek Christ’s face in the temple and in his world so we will know the power of
the final words of the gospel reading today, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in
the name of the Lord’ (Luke 13.35b),
words we know as the Benedictus and, believe it or not, they are words from a
Psalm too (118.26).
We come
now in the name of the Lord, seeking blessing and entrusting ourselves to the
Lord, our light and salvation.
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