The Earth is the Lord's

Sermon text for October 19, 2008:
Psalm 24
Preached at Shepherd of the Hills Presbyterian Church, Lakewood, Colorado

The feeling was absolutely amazing. My body was tingling, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I couldn’t help myself. I was swept away by a crowd of thousands singing, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

As we sang our praises, time lost all meaning. I was surprised when I discovered that we sang for about twenty minutes. People were standing on tables, dancing in the aisles, hugging each other and crying in joy and gratitude. The General Assembly of the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America had just ratified the plan for reunion with the Southern branch of the Church and we had become one. God had done a wondrous thing which only a few years before seemed impossible. With God’s help the northern and southern branches of the Presbyterian Church were part of a miracle created by God.

Moments like these are as rare in the church as they are in other parts of our life. But every once in a while something happens that carries us away, at least momentarily. Many of us probably got carried away when the Rockies won the National League title last year, or when the Broncos last won the Super Bowl.

At the political conventions this year, faithful Republicans and Democrats got carried away as John McCain and Barack Obama accepted their parties’ nominations for the presidency. At the appropriate moment the conventions exploded in applause, cheers, clapping, laughing, and dancing in the aisles.

If you understand melting into a crowd and being swept away by joy then you understand the emotional context of Psalm 24.

Psalm 24 is what Bible scholars call a Psalm of ascent. It was sung as the faithful ascended the hill toward the temple in Jerusalem. It begins with a simple affirmation of faith: “The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it, the world and those who live in it." God owns the world and everything in it, including the people. This simple truth challenges us in the core of our being. We like to think that we belong to ourselves and what we have is ours. But the Psalmist declares “the earth is the Lord’s”, even that piece of ground to which we hold title belongs to God. Moreover, those who live on the earth also belong to God. We are not our own. If we are faithful we cannot do with ourselves and our possessions what we want.

The Jews who lived very close to the land took this truth for granted. They worked very hard to survive, but in the final analysis God’s help was essential for life. They understood: “The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. Even the people who live on the earth belong to God.”

That is why after the harvest thousands of believers marched through the streets of Jerusalem carrying gifts. They moved relentlessly up the hill toward the temple where they would join others who gathered outside the Temple gates. As they marched they sang to one another antiphonally, "The earth is the Lord's ... And everything in it." The earth is the Lord's ... And everything in it!" Then the words changed. A cantor started the next line "Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? Who shall stand in his holy place?" And another cantor helped the crowd answer singing, "Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false."

As they sing back and forth, excitement builds and individuals are lost in the chanting of the crowds. Individual personalities merged so that the thousands became one. They have come to the Temple to make offerings and sacrifices to God and they are quite literally moving as one body to storm the Temple gates. It is a drama that was played out year after year, generation after generation. Inside the Temple gates the priests are waiting until the excitement outside has peaked before they open the gates and let the people in.

Outside, the crowd grows impatient, "Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up O ancient doors!" It's a fancy way of saying open the doors so we can come in. Open up that "the King of Glory might come in," sings one group while another sings back, "Who is the King of Glory? The Lord of hosts he is the King of Glory."

The crowd has come to the temple with their gifts for the King of Glory. They have come with their first fruits, the best of their flocks and herds. They believe that one day as they storm the gates of the temple, the Messiah will enter with them. The gifts that they have brought will demonstrate their love, gratitude and devotion to the King.

Year after year they re-enacted this drama, demanding the privilege of giving gifts to God. The grain in their baskets, and the animals that they drove ahead of them were proof of God's generosity. And in return they wanted to be generous with God.

I have the fantasy that a little later this morning, as you prepare to share your estimate of giving cards you will literally be quivering in your seats anxious to share your gifts for Christ’s church. And maybe this morning your hearts will be singing in excitement "Praise God from whom all blessings flow" as you make your pledges for God's work in the coming year.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

One Bread, One Body - World Communion

Sermon text for October 5, 2008:
John 17
Preached at Thornton Presbyterian Church

World Communion Sunday is one of the most special days in the Christian year. Today we celebrate the essential unity of believers in Christ. Today the faithful from every nation and every denomination join in celebrating the Lord’s Supper. The hymn that we will sing to close our worship speaks the sentiment of World Communion Sunday very well. It says, “One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless. And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.” Today we affirm that beyond all of our differences, we are in reality one body, and one family in the one Lord.

A few years ago when I was visiting Jerusalem I was in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Roman Catholics and the various Orthodox denominations consider this cathedral one of the most holy sites in all of Christendom. They believe that the Church is built over the biblical Golgotha – the site of Jesus’ crucifixion and his tomb. Under one of the altars is a boulder on which they believe the cross was placed and on which Jesus died. Not too far away is a first century tomb in which they believe that Jesus was buried.

The cathedral is very ornate and not to the liking of most protestants. Yet I was genuinely touched by the devotion of others. As I wandered around I heard the sound of chanting which grew louder and louder as I listened. It soon became apparent that a worship service was in progress, but it was worship unlike anything I had ever experienced. As I watched and listened I saw a procession of Armenian Orthodox monks processing from one altar to another, chanting and praying. One monk carried a large crucifix, another a bible, yet another a worship book. Each one was dressed in identical black robes. They wore head coverings that wrapped around their faces partially obscuring their jet black beards.

My first reaction was academic fascination. I have read many orthodox liturgies, but only rarely experienced one. I noticed the strange clothing, the strange language, and the even stranger practice of the leader bowing to kiss the granite or marble slabs that gave the various altars a stable foundation. But almost imperceptibly, my detached, academic interest was replaced by an intense desire to join the monks in the procession and in singing the liturgy. The monks were no longer the object of dispassionate academic observation; instead they were brothers in Christ.

We were separated by language, culture, liturgy, geography and more. They expressed their devotion in ways that I could never do, like kissing the altars that thousands of others had kissed or walked on that day. But still I found something compelling, I became convinced that worship has its own language and that it speaks directly to the heart. And I felt a kinship with these strange people who also named the name of Jesus and call him savior.

As I thought about all of our differences, I remembered Paul’s analogy comparing the Church to the human body. Each part he says functions in a different way and each is essential for health. And I realized that even as the heart and lungs function differently, and each is essential to the body, so do Presbyterians and Orthodox worship differently, and each of us is essential to the Body.

Paul tells us in Ephesians that there “is one body and one Spirit, … One faith, one hope, one baptism, one God and father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

The different expressions of faith in Christ offer different ways of relating to people, so that all might be touched. At first glance it appears that Presbyterians and Armenian Orthodox are completely unrelated – not doing the same thing at all. Yet when we are open to one another we discover that in faith we are joined together in one body with Christ as the head.

Sometimes even within our own denomination, we forget that the Spirit of Christ binds us together. We threaten, argue, and sometimes we even separate ourselves from the rest of the Body, because we value our differences more than we value the One who calls us together. That is why I rejoice on World Communion Sunday when we celebrate our oneness in Christ. When we recognize our unity in Christ we become the answer to Jesus’ prayer in John 17. In this prayer Jesus prayed that we might all be one as he and God are one. Tomorrow we might remember our differences but today we celebrate our unity within the family of Christ. Today we gather around the family table and share the family meal. It is around the table of the Lord that our differences fade away, and those things that tear us apart grow dim in the light of Jesus who has knit us together into one body.

You see, it is true. There is indeed one bread, one body, one Lord of all. Thanks be to God!

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock