Psalm
96
The text for our reflection this
morning comes from the 96th Psalm. As I suspect many of you know,
the Psalms originally were the church's hymn book, and the hymn-book of
ancient Israel. Psalms were sung, and have been sung for thousands
of years, and chanted, and used in various ways in worship.
It just so happens that this particular
Psalm, the 96th Psalm, is in our Psalter, which is the back of your
[pew] hymnal. We are going to sing a response that is designated
in the bold print:
1O sing to the
Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.
2Sing to the Lord, bless his name;
tell of his salvation from day to day.
3Declare his glory among the nations,
his marvelous works among all the peoples.
4For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;
he is to be revered above all gods.
5For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
but the Lord made the heavens.
6Honour and majesty are before him;
strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.
O sing to the
Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.
7Ascribe to the Lord, O families
of the peoples,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
8Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
bring an offering, and come into his courts.
9Worship the Lord in holy splendor;
tremble before him, all the earth.
O sing to the
Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.
10Say among the
nations, ‘The Lord is king!
The world is firmly established; it shall never be
moved.
He will judge the peoples with equity.’
11Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice;
let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
12 let the field exult, and everything in it.
Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy
13 before the Lord; for he is coming,
for he is coming to judge the earth.
He will judge the world with righteousness,
and the peoples with his truth.
O sing to the
Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.
I have a clergy calling friend with
whom I gather for lunch every few years to catch up on things in
life. Last time we gathered, Sam (not his real name), who is about
2 years younger than I am, shared some rather startling news. He
said he had been diagnosed the year before with Parkinson's
Disease. Unless a cure is found, he figures he might have 10-12
years where he will continue to work before the disease will force him
into early retirement.
And so quite naturally he worries about
his family, about his wife, what they will do without his income.
How they will manage his healthcare expenses if he loses his health
insurance. And he says retirement, for him, instead of something
to look forward to, to be enjoyed, is something that he anticipates at
best that he will have to endure.
To be blunt, his life stinks. And
yet, he will stand before his congregation as long as he is physically
able. And with all honesty and sincerity, he will proclaim the
good news, as the Psalmist proclaims, 'sing to the Lord a new
song'.
How is that possible? How does
one bless God's name when faced with a debilitating future? How
can we declare God's glory to the nations when we see so many nations
torn apart by war and poverty?
Life is full of all kinds of ambiguity,
isn't it? One moment we are celebrating the accomplishments of our
seniors at graduation, and the next we are dealing with some personal
tragedy. My own
brief bout with cancer has made me all the more aware of the
uncertainty inherent in all life. And therefore, I think, all the
more sensitive to the preciousness, the special-ness, the beauty of life,
of each and every day.
Now this may seem a bit odd, but I have
to tell you I found more enjoyment in those first few weeks after my
surgery last year than I have known for a long time -- perhaps
ever. I mean, you could spend $100 at the finest restaurant in
Eugene and you would not receive as fine a meal as I had that day after
surgery. That chicken, those mashed potatoes, that gravy tasted
soooo good! Of course I hadn't eaten anything in 48 hours J.
It was absolutely heavenly. I great regretted the fact that I ate
it all, the next day, but in that moment it was intense enjoyment.
And the bed at home, with that $98.00 re-conditioned mattress was the
absolute most comfortable bed in all the world. I was so glad to
be home. Even after I went off the drugs, it still felt good J.
And my favorite part, the most fabulous
enjoyment of all, were those first hugs from my kids (one a graduating
senior this year), and that first kiss from my wife. There was
nothing sweeter, nothing better, in the whole world.
It almost makes me want to do it all
over again. Until I remember that part about the catheter, and
when they pulled it out. Don't want to go there J.
To sing a new song to the Lord is to
praise God not for saving us from the trials and tribulations of
life, but in spite of them. To know that no matter what
difficulties we may encounter, that life is good because it is of God
and therefore full of wonder, and beauty, and joy in each and every
day. And even in those times when we only have but a glimpse of
that wonder, of that beauty, of that joy, it is enough to sustain us
through all else. For it gives us hope that God is not only still
present in the world, but God is still the ruler who judges, that is,
who directs us with God's equity, righteousness, and truth, as the Psalm
proclaims.
Hebrew scholar Clinton McCann writes
that "this conviction expressed in the 96th Psalm, that God rules
the world, empowers us even now in the face of old injustice and
brokenness to defy such realities as we live under God's claim and sing
a new song".
And this is why, I think, that my
friend Sam can still proclaim the good news in spite of his own
affliction. It is why we too can be filled with joy no matter how
dismal our perception of the world for we are those who live under God's
claim. "The kingdom of God is within you", Jesus
said. And therefore, we can defy the brokenness, the injustices,
of the world to live by a different reality that we have in God.

And so the Psalm tells us to sing
a new song to the Lord. To proclaim God's salvation.
To declare God's glory. And then note at the end of that
Psalm, it says 'let the earth rejoice, let the sea roar,
let the fields exult'. It's as if all of nature is
proclaiming this good news. We are surrounded with a symphony of
exultation and proclamation and joy, and we are the chorus called to
sing that song. Only the problem is, lots of us don't know how to
sing this song.
Martha Grace Reese led a 4-year study
of mainline protestant churches and how they dealt with evangelism,
interviewed over 1,000 members and clergy, and I think it will come as
no surprise to many of us that they discovered that a huge number of
folks in churches like ours have strong feelings about evangelism --
they hate it! It's one of the reasons most of our churches have
been struggling for these past 40 years.
Reese's book, that just came out last
year, "Unbinding the Gospel", has lots of good tips and tools
for turning that trend around. It will be a resource for our study
next Spring when she comes to speak at our regional assembly that will
be hosted at Northwest Christian College. Having just read the
book on my train trip down to Fresno (that's what I love about trains,
you spend all of that time reading) last weekend, I want to make one
minor adjustment to what she says. That is, I want to ban the word
'evangelism' from our vocabulary. Sounds kind of radical, but I
want to replace it with something else. The word has such negative
connotations for so many of us that it's hard to recover its meaning, to
reform it.
Either we come from churches where
evangelism was little more than a hunt for unsuspecting prey, or, we
have been so badgered by so-called 'evangelists' that we want nothing to
do with the concept. So I want to find a different way of talking
about it, to forget that word.
Whereas evangelism is most often
understood as trying to convert others to your way of belief, you see,
that's not what we're about. Our goal is not the conversion of
minds, but the transformation of lives. Not the saving of souls,
but the saving the world. And you see the difference being -- the
saving of the world involves souls, includes that, but too often those
seeking to save souls don't care about the world. It could go to
hell in a hand-basket. So we seek to do both.
If we are going to assist in the
transformation of lives and the changing of our world, we have to be
able to sing this new song of God. To not be shy about sharing our
faith. Under that old rubric of evangelism, the reasons for
sharing our faith were generally three-fold:
First, it was the way to get into
heaven.
Second, conversely, it was the only
way to stay out of hell. You know, scare the hell out of
people.
Third, because Jesus commanded us.
That we should go and "make disciples of all nations", right,
the great commission in Matthew 28.
And for many folk, those are very
compelling, important reasons, and that's good. But if you don't
respond to those promises of heaven or threats of hell, or if you're
like me, or my teenage kids, if "I told you so" is not reason
enough to do something (you have to understand more what's behind it)
then I think we need to push that out of the way. We need to wipe
that off. We need to expand our thinking. We need to turn it
around [at this point, Dan was showing off his PowerPoint skills J].
We need to come up with some new
understandings, reasons why it's important to share our faith:
Life is better with God in it.
Isn't that so? When you are in tune with the will of God for your
life and the world, it's better.
Knowing Jesus makes me a better
person. I'm not saying better than someone else, but better
than we would be without Christ in our lives.
God has changed my life. I
know that's true for many people. Why should we be shy about
sharing that?
Christ gives me peace and hope.
And how much we need that peace and hope in our world.
We need the Christian vision for the
world. This, I think, is probably the biggest motivating
factor I have for sharing my faith. The biblical vision for our
world: when the wolf will dwell with the lamb, and swords are beat
into plowshares, and the new heaven and the new earth where death will
be no more. That is the vision that we are called to share with
our world and that's exciting.
I have found forgiveness and have
learned how to forgive others in Christ. That is such a
powerful experience.
I feel so much love in the Christian
community. The church is a place where people can say
"see how they love one another".
People in the church have been so good
to me.
The church gives me a place where I can
make a difference in the world. Here is a place where we can
make a difference in the world, whether it be through out Helping
Hand ministry or Good
Samaritan ministry or Darfur action, or whatever it is that we do
together when we join together to make a difference. We truly do
that here.
This is just a list for starters that I
invite you to consider, and to come up with your own list -- why is it
important to share our faith? And to do so, you might think of
these four questions, to meditate on these:
Why am I a Christian?
How do I experience God in my life?
Where do I see God in our world?
How does my faith in God make a
difference?
Those who are in our prayer
groups, this is extra credit -- you might use it in your group when
you meet, to guide you.
I want to try and illustrate this with
a personal story, or at least illustrate part of this. My sister,
Katherine, is the pastor of First
Christian Church in Carbondale, Illinois. Three years ago, her
daughter Stephanie gave birth to her first child, a baby boy, Dawson
they named him. It was my sister's first grandchild and parent's
first great-grandchild. Only, something went wrong at birth.
It was a very long, stressful labor, lasted three days. They
finally decided they had to deliver Dawson by C-section. Quickly
after they delivered him they discovered that he did not have sufficient
oxygen in his blood. They told the family that he will go into
critical condition in a few short hours, and they did not have the tools
in their hospital to cope with the condition.
And so they had to have him air-lifted
to the Children's Hospital in St. Louis. My sister writes of that
experience: "The hospital staff decided Stephanie needed to
be with her baby. Even though she could not sit up after the
spinal, they wheeled her bed toward the nursery where there stood many
other grandparents admiring their newborns or awaiting news of
birth. The nurses laid Dawson on her chest while blowing oxygen in
his face. We wept openly in the hall. Perceiving that this
newborn infant was about to be whisked away in the arriving helicopter,
perhaps never to be seen by his mother again, one of those grandparents
asked Stephanie if she would like to have a picture with newborn son:
"The next couple of days were very
trying for all in the family, and especially Stephanie, who was not able
to leave that hospital to go and join her son. She only had this
picture, and her faith, to hold onto".
Fast-forward to one year later:

Baby Dawson sitting there on his Mom's
lap, Grandma on his left, Great-Grandpa, my father, on his right.
Talk about reasons to praise God.
You know that this family has something to shout about. The
wonder, the joy, the beauty of life that puts a smile on everyone's
face.
But you and I also know that not every
such story has a happy ending. And perhaps unintentionally, but
quite visually, that is represented by the empty seat where
Great-Grandma should be sitting in front of her husband. This is
the reality of life -- tragic deaths and miraculous births.
Life-saving wonders and life-threatening crisis'. And in spite of
all of that -- or because of it -- we are called to sing this new
song. To share our faith in God with the world, of this joy, this
wonder, this beauty, this special-ness of life.
So if you ask me: 'where is God
in that picture?' I would tell you that he is seated right there
on his mother's lap. And even in that empty seat. And in
those happy faces that give witness to the victory of life over tragedy.
For God is in the wonders of medicine
that makes life better and longer for all:

God is in the blessed peacemakers who
teach us how to change this world through non-violent resistance:

God dwells among those whom the world
presumes to be enemies, but instead discover that they can be friends:

God is in the refugee camps where our
gifts from Week of Compassion are literally saving lives even today:

God is in those emergency workers,
sometimes risking their own lives to save the lives of others:

God is wherever tragedy is transformed
into hope. Apathy transformed into action. And death
transformed into life. That is the good news that we can
share--and if we dare--even to sing, and to shout, to the world.
May it be.