Readings (Track 2)
Today’s psalm is a gift, and the focus of this sermon. “Protect me, O God, for I take refuge in you.” That sounds like our world. The danger isn’t specified, but the psalmist’s language shows that it’s serious: “For you will not abandon me to the grave, / nor let your holy one see the Pit.” Nevertheless, to say “You are my Lord, / my good above all other” is to choose trust and hope, not simply for survival, but for flourishing: “You will show me the path of life; / in your presence there is fullness of joy, / and in your right hand are pleasures for evermore.” Does this come easily? Of course not. If it came easily the psalm wouldn’t be necessary. But it’s where the psalmist wants to end up.
As you may recall, Peter cites this psalm in his Pentecost sermon, using it to interpret Jesus’ resurrection. And we often hear it as celebrating our hope for resurrection. That’s not wrong, but it’s not what the psalmist was talking about in their context: “For you will not abandon me to the grave, / nor let your holy one see the Pit. / You will show me the path of life” in this life. This psalm is like Psalm 23 (“The Lord is my shepherd / I shall not be in want”), but with the danger more clearly in the foreground.
If we wonder how to make the psalmist’s trust and hope our own, our New Testament readings offer two different perspectives. Let’s look at them briefly.
Paul focuses on freedom, an important word in his time and ours. In our time, as the German theologian Moltmann argues, freedom tends to mean lordship. “Everyone should be his or her own ruler, his or her own lord, his or her own slaveowner.…Each one sees the other as a competitor in the battle for power and ownership.” The alternative, Moltmann argues, is to see freedom as community. “I am free and feel myself to be free when I am recognized and accepted by others and when I, for my part, recognize and accept others.…Then the other person is no longer a limitation of my freedom but the completion of it.”[1] I’m still chewing on this, but I think he’s on to something, and it aligns with Paul’s argument.
The Galatians to whom Paul writes affirm trust and hope, but are still in competition with each other. And that, Paul argues, is to opt for the flesh, not the Spirit. So Paul gives us those well-known lists, the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit, both lists about how we live together. Put in the psalmist’s terms, “O Lord, you are my portion and my cup; / it is you who uphold my lot” should be freeing me for more patience, kindness, generosity, etc. Notice again the movement in the first two verses: “I have said to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord, / my good above all other.’ / All my delight is upon the godly that are in the land.” Freedom as community, centered and grounded in the Holy Trinity, the original community.
“Live by the Spirit, I say, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh.” Paul is, of course, speaking to the churches in Galatia. But the Spirit/Flesh alternatives are equally present in our cities, our nation, our world. So Paul’s words give us another way of praying for these: may the Spirit that brooded over the chaotic waters at creation breath Jesus’ life into ours at every level.
In short, after hearing Paul’s words, we can hear the psalmist’s words (“I have said to the Lord, “You are my Lord, / my good above all other.”) also as rippling out to the psalmist’s neighbors: flesh or Spirit, freedom as lordship or community.
Luke places today’s text shortly after the Transfiguration, Jesus transfigured, talking with Moses and Elijah, and the voice from the cloud “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” And today’s text is about putting that into practice. It’s not that Moses, Elijah, and Jesus are equal authorities, so that we decide in any given situation which to hear, but listening to Jesus we hear Moses and Elijah properly. When that Samaritan village refuses to receive them, Elijah’s fire is not an option. When it comes to Jesus’ call to discipleship the obligations to parents mandated by Moses take second place. (That’s what’s in play in Jesus’ response to “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”)
In terms of today’s psalm, “You are my Lord, / my good above all other” plays out differently before and after Jesus taking on our flesh. This is not because we’re in any way better than the original hearers, the Gentiles more virtuous than the Jews, but that Jesus changes the landscape. There are new possibilities. “I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel; / my heart teaches me, night after night” goes on steroids. For too many cultures, past and present, Paul’s first list (“enmities, strife, jealousy, anger,” etc.) is as good as it gets. But with Jesus’ Spirit counseling, teaching, oh, the possibilities: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” It is still a dangerous world; the danger does not have to define who we are.
Jesus said to the disciples “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world” (Matt 5:13, 14). Today’s readings give that some focus, send us back to Psalm 16 with fresh eyes, and set us up to respond in trust, hope, and joy to the sending at the end of the Mass: “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”
[1] Humanity in God pp. 63-64.