Readings (Track 1)

A few minutes ago, we prayed “Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts; for, as you always resist the proud who confide in their own strength, so you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy.” It turns out that today’s readings invite us to look at that trust from different angles, so this sermon touches briefly on each reading from that perspective. This is, of course, an exercise in swimming upstream, for our culture constantly encourages us to confide in our own strength, and to be found—if the choice must be made—with the proud, rather than the humble. And if we have enough strength—so the myth goes—we don’t need to trust anyone. OK, to the readings.

Following last week’s encounter at the burning bush, Moses has returned to Egypt to bring the people out. Pharaoh refused, and, after a long series of plagues, still refused. Which brings us to today’s reading. On the fourteenth of the month, all the Israelite households are to slaughter a lamb, put some of its blood on the doorposts and lintel, roast it, and eat it “your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly.” Now, as a strategy for national liberation, that sounds a bit weak. It requires the trust for which our collect prayed, and is, in fact, one of Scripture’s more important examples of that trust on a national level. Israel trusted, obeyed, and when that very night Pharaoh told them to go, they were ready.

Verse 4 of today’s psalm: “For the Lord takes pleasure in his people / and adorns the poor [or ‘humble’—so the NRSV] with victory.” The deliverance from Egypt, one of the first, and most important, of those experiences.

The remainder of the psalm is an interpretive challenge, primarily because “vengeance” (v.7) is something God reserves for God’s self, as we heard in last week’s reading from Romans: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’” (12:19). Interpreters handle this differently; the suggestion I find most likely is to translate v.6 “Let the praises of God be in their throat / as a two-edged sword in their hand,” with the agent in vv.7-9 being God, not the faithful. We might recall the story of Jericho in the Book of Joshua: the people march around the city in silence for six days. On the seventh, the priests blow the ram’s horns, the people “shout with a great shout” and God takes care of the walls (6:1-5). Both for Joshua’s people and the users of the psalm, an exercise in trust.

One other comment on Ps 149 before moving on. In light of Scripture’s witness as a whole, v.8 (“To bind their kings in chains / and their nobles with links of iron;”) can’t be the endgame. A better candidate appears in the vision of the New Jerusalem in The Revelation: “The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it” (21:24).

Today’s reading from Romans is from the part introduced by “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God– what is good and acceptable and perfect” (12:1-2). A major part of “Do not be conformed…but be transformed” is this “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In this context, recall, “love” is not an emotion, but a commitment to the neighbor’s good.

Love, not on pragmatic grounds (“If I love them they’re more likely to love me!”), but because God is trustworthy. In the Old Testament, recall that the Ten Commandments start not with “you shall have no other gods before me” but with “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” “I brought you out of slavery, therefore you don’t need to kill, steal, bear false witness, etc. to secure your own existence.”

In the New Testament: “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you” (Mt 7:12) isn’t standalone, but the consequence of the previous verse: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” Oddly, the NRSV leaves the Greek “therefore” (oun) at the beginning of v.12 untranslated. Trust this generous God, therefore do to others…

The second half of the Romans reading may sound familiar, because it’s picked up in the collect for the first Sunday of Advent: “give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light.” Not because there’s daylight out there; the day may be “near,” but it’s not there yet. So Paul: “let us live honorably as in the day” even though that doesn’t make much sense in the night. Again we’re talking about—sorry—trust. It’s like that scene from Matthew that we heard about a month ago. The disciples are in the boat at night, having a rough time with the wind and waves. Jesus comes walking to them, and, after Jesus identifies himself, Peter: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (Mt 14:28). Sometimes we don’t do any better than Peter did: after a few steps we notice that it’s still night. But he and Paul have the right idea.

Finally, Matthew. All of chapter 18 is about Jesus’ followers’ shared life, how they are—in Paul’s language—to love one another. I wish the lectionary had started the reading at v.1, because starting the conversation at v.15 invites disaster. Before we set out to point out the other member’s fault, we need to have spent serious time with vv.1-14, particularly vv.1-4:

“At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’”

Humble like this child? Thomas Merton captured it: “We do not want to be beginners. But let us be convinced of the fact that we will never be anything else but beginners, all our life!”[1]

Now, between humble like a child and Jesus’ earlier “How can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye?” (Mt 7:4), wouldn’t the wiser course back in v.15 be to simply shut up? Well, somehow that doesn’t sound like “love one another.” Even our culture realizes “Friends Don’t Let Friends Drive Drunk.” It’s risky, which is maybe why next week we’ll be listening to Jesus’ answer to Peter’s ill-advised question “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” We’re only going to listen to Jesus’ instructions in Matthew 18 if we trust that God has our backs, that with that God there is forgiveness.

OK. I’ve suggested that our collect’s prayer for trust resonates with the themes in today’s readings. In the process, I think we’ve seen that trust is not something that stays in the heart, but that animates the entire body.

It has the Israelites preparing for and observing that very strange meal.

It calls the users of Ps 149 to fill their throats with praise, despite the fact that the kings and nobles are still apparently calling all the shots.

It calls the Romans in their interpersonal relations to dislodge self-protection and self-promotion from the top of their lists of priorities.

It calls the hearers of Matthew’s Gospel to take risks in dealing with an erring church member.

Grant us, O Lord, so to trust in you with all our hearts that this trust animates our eyes, ears, mouths, feet, and hands.

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[1] Contemplative Prayer.