Friday, July 10, 2020              Today’s lectionary
You talkin’ to me?
No punches pulled, the words fall like blows to my face.
You have collapsed through your guilt.
I imagine a trainer whispering into the bruised and bleeding ear of his boxer, who spent the night before the match drinking and spending his energy on everything but reflection and rest.
You have collapsed through your guilt.
Now own up. Ask for forgiveness, offer yourself, turn away from your fantasy about your grandeur and shine.
You are not as strong as you think you are.
We watch the morning birds flock to morning bird feeders. A red-rumped male house finch captures Margaret’s attention. “He catches the girls’ attention too,” she said. Flaunt it, baby. See what happens next.
That’s an easy path to follow, flaunting my way through the day. Red-rumped bravado helps me face what I cannot control.
We shall no longer say “Our God” to the work of our hands.
Laying low, I struggle to hear the Whispers of the Holy Spirit in the boxer’s ears.
I will be like the dew for you, my son.
With this living water you will strike deep roots like the Lebanon cedar,
Lasting roots, splendor in the sun
As your cedar scent scatters in the wind, drawing all good.
Hmm. This guy is named Ephraim, too. They are everywhere these days.
Ephraim! You have been humbled, but I will bronze your skin
Your muscles will bloom and grow powerful
Your path will be straight, and in me,
Through me, because of me
You will bear fruit.
Later in his life, King David confuses his own lust with some offhand picture he has of God’s blessing. As a young man he did not make that confusion. Even at the risk of death he refused to harm King Saul sleeping in a cave. But now, as he rests upon his laurels, the well-respected prophet Nathan corners David with a story and a question.
Once upon a time a rich man with much livestock is visited by a poor shepherd traveling with his only sheep. The rich man welcomes the traveler, but then he kills the shepherd’s single animal to feed them both. What should happen next?
David exploded with the anger of a righteous king. “Drag the rich man away and lynch him!”
But, David, you are that man!
David had seduced Bathsheba and then sent her husband Uriah into battle without protection, where Uriah was killed. David’s baby growing in Bathsheba’s womb could now be called the son of Uriah, and the king’s reputation stayed clear.
Clear, but hardly clean. As Nathan called him into a higher court David wept bitterly. He could not undo his guilt.
But even now, David could face God. That was always his greatest gift. Even when he hated himself, he was even more confident that God did not.
The king crept into his own cave and wrote Psalm 51. Sure, the papyrus was soaked with tears and tore easily at the touch. But David rewrote it, again and then perhaps even a third time, because God’s words poured the only balm on his sickened soul.
If you cleanse me with hyssop, then I will be clean. When you wash me, I will be whiter than snow.
Does David really believe God will forgive him?
Hide your face from my sins. Blot Out All My Iniquity!
I grew up in Lincoln, Illinois. In our Lutheran service there, while we made our offerings we sang a tune I’ll always cherish. The wooden offering plates made the rounds. As I grew older I sometimes passed the plate myself, waiting for it to return at the end of pew after pew.
What’s that plate for? To give my money, time, service, but far more, like King David, to offer up my sin. Freely give it up, freely receive the deep forgiveness that only God can give. So we sang.
Create in me a clean heart
O God
And renew a right spirit
Within me
Cast me not away from your presence
Take not your Holy Spirit from me
We went to church every Sunday and still do. Catholics pray the Mass every day. How often do I sin? How often does God attend my sin, then again receive my confession and cleanse my soul?
Restore unto me the joy of your salvation!
Sustain me with your free Spirit!
Just a few minutes after we sang these words we all walked out into the late morning sun. Our church doors faced north, so in the summer there was plenty of shade. Pastor Neitzel stood smiling in his whites beside the wide-open center doors, shaking our hands.
The concrete steps tilted precipitously down to the street, broken by a wide landing. But even in winter they were never slick. Early rising deacons made sure of that. Of course I grew accustomed to the liturgies of the morning service and barely knew what I was singing. But the deep foundation, the deep strong roots were laid, and now the words carry the sweet scent of incense into my nose today. And as I hear the words and feel the music in my mind, I know how much God’s forgiveness meant then, and means now, and will mean forever.
Off to the left of the pulpit there was a small room where Pastor Neitzel waited for Sunday’s service to begin. I imagine his own stage fright faded as he remembered Jesus’ clear words to his friends as they headed out to face the music, face the people, face the Great Unknown.
DO NOT worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say.
At that very moment, as you open your mouth you be given what you are to say.
Many times in my counseling that is exactly what happens to me!
It will not be you who speak
But the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.
This … attendance! Pastor Neitzel, sitting on his straight backed chair alone with his thoughts … he is not alone but attended by the words of Jesus and the Spirit of his Father, who is about to speak through him.
Our pastor started every sermon with the confident words of Paul.
Grace and peace to YOU, from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
(Hosea 14, Psalm 51, John 16, Matthew 10)
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