Showing posts with label Psalm 137. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalm 137. Show all posts

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Hope for those in exile

 Among the many songs Linda Ronstadt has performed and recorded is the reggae song, “By the rivers of Babylon,” which draws on verses from two Psalms which you may hear this fall in many churches: 


The last verse of Psalm 19, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my strength and my redeemer,”  and the beginning of Psalm 137: “By the rivers of Babylon…”  which is a sad and angry song about being an exile.


Invocation is often the use of that first phrase:  a preacher will say it before he begins to preach.


But we rarely hear the second because of the anger and even rage that psalm expresses as the words go on from the beginning of the experience of exile. 


Yet many of us do feel in exile or as a stranger in a strange land from time to time even in a familiar place or somewhere far away from home. 


And that is certainly the case with many people who are currently refugees in our world.


Among them are those who have been welcomed to Tucson or people who are waiting in refugee resettlement programs or people who are in a home country where they no longer feel at home or safe. 


And these are among the people we have special care for and special concern about at this time especially considering the recent upheaval and changes in the Middle East and the repercussions we will continue to feel for decades to come. 


After the initial expression of loss, sorrow, and grief from psalm 19, the reggae song takes an interesting turn : moving to the hopeful and prayerful expressions of psalm 19,


In these times it is especially welcome to have those closing words of Psalm 19 so that we don’t immure ourselves in lasting despair or dwell in gratuitous negativity as we discuss these events.


Indeed we are reminded in that psalm 19 from its first words, “the heavens declare the glory of God,”  to its last, “let the words of my mouth be acceptable in thy sight,” that indeed all human beings are part of the creation of God and that the God who created us is the God who redeemed us is the God who will see us through.


So let the words we speak and the meditations at the deepest root of our being be thoughts of praise and words of hope.




A previous version of this essay appeared in the Arizona Daily Star, Keeping the Faith section, September 19th 2021, page E3.

Saturday, September 11, 2021

AFTER TWENTY YEARS

 

Let the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts

Be acceptable in thy sight

O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.


The phone rang.

“Turn on the television!”

“What channel?”

“Any channel!”


Twenty years ago something happened that everybody noticed. 


Events today still reverberate with what happened that morning. 


Two thousand years ago something happened that almost nobody noticed. At first. 


Just another Roman execution. Best to just get on with business as usual. 


Around Jesus as he was led to the cross through the marketplace streets of Jerusalem, business continued as usual. 


But then something else happened. Quietly. And really, almost nobody noticed. At first.


Women went to the tomb of the dead body of their savior and he was not there. 


Quietly the word spread. 


Shock and sorrow gave way to rage and fear twenty years ago. Retaliation was sought. A blind giant struck out in all directions, setting on his known enemies. 


Shock and sorrow two thousand years ago were superseded by hope and a cautious joy. Life did not get easier for the disciples: it got harder. For he had warned them, to Peter’s dismay. Yes, I am the Messiah, but keep it quiet -- and listen: the Son of Man must suffer and be rejected and be killed and after three days rise again.


This is not what we signed up for, Jesus. Is this not the day you will restore the kingdom of Israel? Are we to give up hope? We cannot look for another: you hold the way of life.


You must go with me, on the way, not around the passion, but through it, and through the way of the Cross peace will come to all people. This is the way of joy, of life, of love.


Many times in our world we would like to respond like John Wayne: if the other guy throws the first punch, you can go to town on him. Or on anybody who looks like him.


All too quickly we insert ourselves in conflicts between brothers, taking sides where no side can be helpful. Intervention in faraway places out of altruism or greed, seemingly to make the world safe for business and democracy, often leads to harm, or disaster.


How frustrating it is that twenty years of endless war has militarized a generation and left the extremists in charge in one place and chaos in another. We cannot impose democracy by force, top down. We should know that by now.


Futility, nobility, sacrifice: the story of twenty years. Look at the monster Rome made of itself endless seeking security, pushing its boundaries ever outward, for one less enemy, one less threat.


That endless search for security through force eventually imploded.


In the end it was the way of grace that prevailed. That small and scared band of followers at the foot of the cross - or in hiding - became many and brave. Fearless witnesses to love, willing after all to pick up their crosses and follow.


Security, identity, compassion, community: found not in force or violent responses to violence, the sense of belonging not of soldiers but of witnesses. It is in that giving up that they found themselves, in that loss that they gained, in that service, freedom.


A Franciscan put it this way in a familiar prayer: Let me be an instrument of peace.


This is not the easy way. It is not safe, not as the world knows safe. It is the way of the cross, through death to life. 


What does it profit to gain the world but to lose one’s life? One’s soul? Follow the one who lived with integrity, who through the giving of his life gave new life to all.


A teacher of mine, Paul Lee from Santa Cruz, said that he’s been thinking about the idea that bad mouthing is negative prayer. 


Today drawing on the letter of James, it would be so easy to talk about parish gossip or demagoguery or whispering campaigns or gratuitous backstabbing or all the other ways in which the tongue is a nasty weapon, the abuse that people vent on each other even in their own homes... 


There are those negative things all right, but we can grasp the positive ways in which speech can be a builder-up of life as it is meant to be, indeed we know from Philippians that: “Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.” 


Every tongue confess: so ultimately our speech should coincide with the speech of God, that is the word of God, that is Jesus Christ himself: in fact our speech should be immersed in Christ as we dwell in Christ.


The 19th Psalm ends “and let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you oh Lord my rock and my redeemer” - my rock, my strength, my fortress, my stronghold. From that strong safe place in the cleft of the rock that is God‘s heart, we can speak the truth in love.


The letter of James talks about the tongue as a small member that boasts of great exploits, of the tongue being like small flame that starts a great fire, and James acknowledges that everyone makes mistakes in speaking and we all need humility and repentance and the chance to realize how what we say can build up community, society, even the kingdom of God 


Twenty years ago something happened that everybody noticed. We are still today reacting to what happened that morning. 


Because this is the nearest Sunday to the 20th anniversary of the Al-Qaeda attacks on the United States in New York and Washington DC and the ensuing wars against Afghanistan and then Iraq are much on our minds today, and as Kabul has been retaken and therefore Afghanistan has been re-taken by the Islamist revolutionaries who had harbored the ones who plotted and planned and executed the terrorist attacks of 20 years ago. 


What has been gained and what has been lost? After 20 years of blood toil tears and sweat, of death and destruction, of hopes raised and lowered, of a generation of young women at last having a chance to be educated, to breathe more freely, who now face an uncertain future in the land of their birth, the whole generation that’s grown up after the American intervention in their countries… 


What will happen to those women, those girls, their brothers? What will happen to them now that Afghanistan is ruled again by an extremist ideology? and what will it mean for the countries around them? What does it mean for those countries as they become more surrounded by extreme ideologies? What will it mean for those who are minorities: Christian, Zoroastrian, Baha’i, Hindu, Jain, animist, followers of other religions or none? What will it mean for them, for their safety, for their ability to worship or not worship?


In America we have four freedoms which will be familiar to anyone who sings the song of Zachariah, of freedom to worship without fear: the four freedoms that were articulated by a president back in the 1930s capture something very American: freedom of speech, freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom of worship. 


Four freedoms that should be true for everyone. Will it be true for the people of the Middle East and south Asia, of Afghanistan and Iraq?


True security, trust and freedom from fear, comes from following the way of wisdom which is the way of life with God: the way that Jesus calls us to follow.


True security, trust and freedom from fear, are so often offered by those who do not truly have them to offer: demagogues, authoritarians, simple cookbook wisdom alternatives (“... do these 10 things and you’ll be free…”)  yet the way of wisdom is the way to freedom from fear.


This seems especially relevant today as we look at so many around us and wonder why they are the way they are, why we are we the way we are, when our politics or personal contact or relationships with others, our attitudes towards strangers we see casually and judge mentally, seem to be based on a desire for a release from the fear and a release of the anger that that fear instills in us; we seek so often for comfort and security and identity in some false gods and false path when we could be following the way of Christ.


***

Twenty years ago, first thing in the morning my uncle called and said to turn on the television. I asked what channel and he said any channel, so I did, and I saw something unbelievable, unreal: airplanes flying into the side of the building. 


When I went out to get the paper, it was already on the stoop: my neighbor had brought it and put a note under the rubber band: “turn on your television” and there it was again and again and again: repeats of what happened that morning in New York City. 


And then later my brother called from the Washington area, as we had set up a family disaster system: if you were on the East Coast and you were under threat you called somebody on the West Coast, if you were on the West Coast you could call and say I’m all right, I’m all right, I’ve survived the earthquake or the wildfire or the flood or whatever it was. In this case the airplane had flown into the Pentagon, two airplanes had flown into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York, and one airplane had been brought down in a field in Pennsylvania that was intended perhaps for the Capitol building in Washington DC - it was unbelievable, unforgettable, it changed our world. 


At first other nations poured out their sympathy. Said the president of France, “We are all Americans now,” and suddenly we felt close to people in Tel Aviv or other places who had had terrorist attacks as they sat at sidewalk cafés or walked down the street or rode a bus: this was much larger in terms of damage and fatalities but it was of a kind and we were all of a kind: human kind.


Yet  before you knew it the United States had attacked Afghanistan and then Iraq, so like other world spanning powers before us we became involved in conflicts on the far side of the world. 


So how do we now as we speak of these events on a Sunday, when the epistle focuses on the word of God and of speaking rightly in his praise and rightly in terms of a positive and loving attitude? How do we speak about or think about the terrible events of 20 years ago in their long lasting event effects?


Well for one thing I think we can choose to be among those who speak positively of what can be spoken of positively, we speak hopefully of what can be spoken of with hope; and we proclaim God‘s kingdom, God‘s goodness, his ultimate triumph over evil, the triumph of good through the Cross. 


That’s why we try to curb our own tongues as we speak to others, even in the simplest ways: in the checkout line at the grocery store or speaking about people we do not like or do not know or those close to us. How do we speak positively, how do we find not in this tragedy a good thing but in this kingdom of God a good thing?


What could we do differently, what should we do, what should we have done: all those questions are part of the heartbreak but the question to ask is where we move from disillusionment and disgust, a feeling of betrayal or loss or grief or anger or fear or nothing? How will we move from there to a place not of despair but of hope?


Hope is the last thing you would expect Jesus followers to have as they watched him expire on a Cross suspended above the heads of the few who watched.


Hope was far from anyone’s mind you would think and yet on the morning of the third day it came in an astonishing way, beyond hope to something like love and joy, and somehow that became the response of these bereft, grieving, lost people.


A peacemaking specialist told me the other day that when people had sat behind tables with name tags and microphones and spoke to each other formally they didn’t make a lot of progress until they got away from the table and their name tags and began to relate to each other on a human, even spiritual, level, as they broke bread together. 


Which is after all what we’re about isn’t it? We here do not separate people into camps and choose one side: what we do here is all come to the common table in the name of Christ, to the glory of God, and ask for the prince of peace to reign in our hearts and in this world as he does in heaven.


Among the many songs Linda Ronstadt performed and recorded was one by Bob Marley entitled “By the rivers of Babylon” which draws on verses from two Psalms that you may hear this fall in many churches: the last verse of Psalm 19, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my strength and my redeemer,”  and the beginning of Psalm 137: “By the rivers of Babylon…”  which is a sad and angry lament about being in exile.


Invocation is often the use of that first phrase:  a preacher will say it before he begins to preach. But we rarely hear the second because of the anger and even rage that psalm expresses as the words go on from the beginning of the experience of exile. 


Yet many of us do feel in exile or as a stranger in a strange land from time to time even in a familiar place or somewhere far away from home. 


After the initial expression of loss, sorrow, and grief from psalm 19 the reggae song takes an interesting turn: moving to the hopeful and prayerful expressions of psalm 19, “Let the words of our mouth and the meditations of our heart be acceptable in thy sight.


In these times it is especially welcome to have those last words of Psalm 19 so that we don’t immure ourselves in lasting despair or dwell in gratuitous negativity as we discuss these events. 


So let the words we speak, and the meditations at the deepest root of our being, be thoughts of praise and words of hope.




The Lessons Appointed for Use on the Sunday closest to September 14

Proper 19 Year B RCL Track 2

Isaiah 50:4-9a. Psalm 116:1-8. James 3:1-12. Mark 8:27-38.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mto7cdYDrxI


The Episcopal Church of Saint Matthew, Tucson.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus

St Francis began as a fabric sales rep - can you imagine a father calling his son Frankie so that he would embody the French fashions he (the father) was trying to sell? But that is what Francis' father did - decked him out in fine clothes, gave him the gear and the purse, to entertain the young nobles of the town - lead them on their revels - until Francis saw something else: a vision.

It did not come to him quickly. It came after many trials. He was involved in a civil war between his hometown and the town across the valley and became a prisoner of war. He tried to enlist in the Crusades but turned back after giving his fine armor to a poor knight. He fell ill and recovered. He prayed and sought guidance. He served the poorest of the poor. He made a pilgrimage. And then while he was praying in the little lost church of San Damiano, derelict and sad, in front of an icon of Christ crucified, he received his commission:

"Rebuild my church - which as you see is falling down."

So Francis went to the warehouse of his father, loaded down his horse with fine fabrics, rode to the next town, sold good and horse, and walked home in a happy spirit. He offered the proceeds to the priest at the ruined church.

That was not enough. His father came after him - he hid but was caught. His father haled him in front of the bishop in the town square: "I want back from you everything you have had from me."

All right. He did. Francis stripped himself bare and laid all his clothes at his father's feet. He was naked, as naked as the day he was born. All those fine clothes were gone.

The bishop quickly covered him with his cope. Francis found shelter in the bishop's house. There in the garden on a trash heap he discovered a worn-out cloak that the under-gardener had discarded. He chalked a cross on the back and gladly put it on.

If you remember the first day of the week when the women walked down in the early light to the tomb, to dress the body of Jesus with spices and herbs - how Mary saw a man there, who asked her, whom do you seek? She turned to him, and begged,

"If you know where they have taken him, please tell me."

She mistook him for the gardener. He must have just scrounged something up that he could put on so he was covered against the cold.

Francis must have known what garment he was putting on - it was a sign of resurrection, of a new life beginning for him - and for the church.

From that early beginning he began to build a new life out of old bones, a new church out of old stones, turning what had been a ruin, as desolate as the city of Jeremiah, in to a new house for God.

His own life had reached a turning point and passed it. What had been broken was blessed, transformed, and offered, given as a gift to God. All it took was a little faith. Something new began to grow.

Increase our faith! The apostles said, and Jesus replied, if only your faith were as big as this - a grain of mustard - you could just say the word and anything could happen.

Francis started with something very small: a kernel, a grain; and from it built a life lived in abundance. Scarcely would it seem had he anything and yet he had all he needed: faith in a gracious God.

What he did with the small beginning was more than rebuild a little church, more than make a safe place for himself and his friends. He spent the rest of his life in worship, witness and service. Francis and his companions spread out across Italy, Europe, and the world - preaching the new life in Christ.

They rebuilt the body of Christ through word and example that enlivened the faith of the people. Francis and his friends gave us the gift of reliance on God, the love of all creatures, and the gift of making peace.

When we celebrate together the Eucharist we remember Christ and his work in the world - not only in our own time but also in times past and times to come. We remember saints of the past, witnesses like Francis to the Word's redeeming power, and we look forward in hope to a future filled with grace, the grace we experience today in the gift of the Great Thanksgiving, the Eucharist, celebrated in remembrance of God's gracious abundance, his gift of himself in the person of his Son, unstinting and unsparing beyond measure or dessert, giving himself that we might have life eternal and share it with generosity, hospitality, courage and love.



The Prayer before the Crucifix at San Damiano


Most High, glorious God,
enlighten the darkness of my heart
and give me true faith, certain hope and perfect charity,
sense and knowledge, Lord,
that I may carry out Your holy and true command.






Blessing to Brother Leo

May the Lord
bless you and keep you.
May He show His face to you
and be merciful to you.
May He turn His countenance to you
and give you peace.


Chronology
of the Life of Saint Francis of Assisi, from the website of the Order of Friars Minor, the brother hood that he founded:

* 1181 (Summer or Fall) Born in Assisi, baptized Giovanni di Pietro Bernardone at the request of his mother Pica, called Francesco by his father, Pietro di Bernardone, a rich cloth merchant.
* 1199 – 1200 Civil War in Assisi. Many noble families flee to Perugia.
* 1202 (November) War between Perugia and Assisi. The latter is defeated at Collestrada. Francis spends a year in captivity (falls ill) until ransomed by his father.
* 1204 A long period of illness and convalescence.
* 1205 Francis sets out to join the army of Walter de Brienne. Returns after a vision and message in Spoleto. Beginning of a gradual period of conversion.
* 1205 (Fall) Message of the Crucifix at San Damiano, Conflict with his father.
* 1206 (January or February) Trial before the Bishop.
* 1206 (Spring) Francis nurses the lepers at Gubbio.
* 1206 (Summer) Returns to Assisi and begins to rebuild San Damiano; end of conversion process; (Summer to January or February) He repairs San Damiano, San Pietro della Spina and Our Lady of the Angels “Portiuncula”.
* 1208 (February 24) Francis hears the Gospel for the Feast of St. Matthias.
* 1208 (April 16) Bernard of Quintavalle and the priest, Peter Cattani join him. Others follow.
* 1208 – 1209 (Fall and Winter) Francis is assured of the pardon of his sins and the growth of his fraternity. They go out two by two to preach penance.
* 1209 They return to the Portiuncula and Francis writes a brief Rule for himself and his eleven friars. They receive the approval of Pope Innocent III in Rome. The friars return to Rivotorto and then to the Portiuncula.
* 1212 (Palm Sunday night) Reception and investiture of St. Clare at the Portiuncula. After a stay with the Benedictine Nuns, Clare moves to San Damiano.
* 1215 Francis at Rome for the IV Lateran Council.
* 1216 Francis receives the Portiuncula Indulgence from Pope Honorius at Perugia
* 1217 (May 5 – Pentecost) General Chapter of all the friars at the Portiuncula. First mission outside Italy.
* 1219 (May 26) First friar missionaries leave for Morocco.
* 1219 (June 24) Francis sails for the Holy Land.
* 1219 (Fall) St. Francis meets with the Sultan.
* 1220 First Franciscan martyrs: the friars killed in Morocco.
* 1220 Cardinal Hugolino appointed Protector of the Order.
* 1220 Francis resigns as General Minister and friar Peter Cattani appointed.
* 1221 Peter Cattani dies and at Chapter Bro. Elias becomes the Vicar.
* 1221-1222 Francis goes on a preaching tour throughout Italy.
* 1223 Francis goes to Fontecolombo to write the definitive Rule for the Order of Friars Minor. The Chapter discusses it and further changes are made until its approval by Pope Honorius III in November.
* 1223 The first Christmas Crib midnight Mass at Greccio.
* 1224 The long retreat of Francis at La Verna where he receives the Stigmata.
* 1225 His eye problems turn worse and he stays for a while at San Damiano with St. Clare and the sisters. At the insistence of Bro. Elias he undergoes medical treatment but without improvement. Almost blind he writes his “Canticle of the Creatures”.
* 1225 – 1226 Francis goes to Fontecolumbo where the doctors cauterize his temple in an unsuccessful treatment. At Sienna he takes a turn for the worse and dictates a short “last will”.
* 1226 (September) Staying at the Bishop’s house in Assisi, Francis knows that he is dying, writes the Testament and asks to be brought down to the Portiuncula.
* 1226 (October 3) Francesco dies at the Portiuncula in the evening.
* 1226 (October 4) He is buried in the church of San Giorgio.
* 1228 (July 16) In Assisi, his friend Cardinal Hugolino now Pope Gregory IX canonizes Francis.
* 1230 (May 25) Transfer of the Saint’s remains to his tomb in the new papal basilica of San Francesco.

http://www.ofm.org/ofm/?page_id=197&lang=en

+