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Writer's pictureWest Richmond Friends

Psalm

Message for worship at West Richmond Friends Meeting, 10th of Eleventh Month, 2024.


Speaker: Lyn Koehnline




It was months ago that Brian suggested I prepare a message for worship before the end of the calendar year. I got scheduled to speak on the first Sunday after the election because I wasn’t paying attention. The Worship Calendar showed only that Brian would be out of town and I had not yet synched it with the world’s calendar.


And I didn’t have a clear leading for a message, but I felt drawn to the Book of Psalms.

When Brian asked me why (which is a good question) the simple answer was because I miss them. I envisioned a meeting for worship with several Psalms and hymns based on Psalms.


When I realized the timing of this message, I panicked, and then I thought, “Well, whatever the election brings, there’s a Psalm for that.” On Wednesday I changed my mind about what Psalm to lead with. Maybe during open worship, some of you will be led to read from a Psalm that speaks to you on this day, or has been helpful to you in the past.

I am still reeling and do not feel adequate to today’s task. I begin with these words from Psalm 19: May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

For all of my growing up and much of my adulthood I attended Methodist and Presbyterian churches that used the Revised Common Lectionary. On most Sunday mornings, I heard at least part of a Psalm read aloud, as well as a passage from the rest of the Old Testament, one from the Gospels, and one from the Epistles.


I promise you that the Worship Committee has no plans to start crowding our meetings for worship with numerous scriptures, but at the time it meant something to me that there were people all over the world reading the same scriptures on the same day.


I became a convinced Quaker here at West Richmond, less than ten years ago. I have learned leaned that Quakers vary tremendously in how well they know the Bible and how helpful they find it. Some of you might have dozens of Psalms committed to memory, and some of you might have a vague recollection of having heard “The Lord is My Shepherd” at memorial services.


I’m not here to judge any of that. Jesus knew and quoted the Psalms. George Fox seemed to knew the whole Bible by heart. But a lot of very good books have been written since then and none of us have time to study all of them.


I said I miss the Psalms. Now, there is nothing to prevent me from reading Psalms on my own, but I rarely do that. So how do I relate to them in the absence of communal reading aloud?


I hoped it wasn’t just nostalgia. I took a deep dive. Over several weeks I read the all Psalms, and a little about them. Turns out it’s way too big of a topic for one morning!


I’d read all the Psalms once before, about 30 years ago, as part of a year-long Bible study. Then, as now, I found parts of the Bible to be either so tedious or so horrifying that I questioned how they made the cut.


The folks who composed the 3-year cycle of the Lectionary did some serious cherry picking. There are 150 Psalms and 156 or 7 Sundays, so you might think each Psalm would get a “turn”, but not at all. Portions of some Psalms are read as often as 8 times over the 3 years and many not even once. And for good reason.


In my recent reading, I found myself careening between passages that are precious to me, that I want engraved on my heart and those that just made me cringe. And it turns out, I’m even pickier than the men who composed the Lectionary. I wondered if I could center this message on the Psalm assigned to this date in the Lectionary. So, I looked it up and it’s number 127. Which starts out well enough, with:


Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain…


but by verse 3 we read:


Sons are indeed a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior….

Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them…


Hmmm… nope. That does not speak to my condition and it’s not what I want to promote.

Quakers are all for liberation and justice, but gravitate away from the Psalms demanding military might and vengeance! And there are a LOT of them, some much rougher than 127.


It’s not surprising, if you consider the histories recorded in the Hebrew Bible. The core memory of God’s “chosen people” was that their ancestors had been slaves in Egypt, had been freed by God’s mighty hand, and been given the Promised Land. In that land they were frequently warring with their neighbors over territory, and threatened by expanding empires. They pleaded with God, “You saved us once; come save us again.”


They’d had plenty of experience being oppressed and were more than ready to become the oppressors. It’s a tragically familiar human story. Perhaps we can only read these Psalms with empathy for the traumas that inspired them and for people today who may be praying them whole heartedly.


I also considered sorting the Psalms into the three categories of prayer that we sometimes borrow from Anne Lamott for Intergenerational Worship: Thanks, Help, and Wow.


Those categories are well represented, but insufficient.


A lot of the Psalms are very particular to the worship practices of the temple in Jerusalem and to having an earthly king who was anointed by God.


Some Psalms provide instruction for how to live a good life, with confidence that righteous living will guarantee good fortune. Sounds a lot like Job before the bottom fell out.


There’s also a lot of complaining and negotiating.

What’s taking You so long, God?

If I perish, who’s going to be left to praise you?

Won’t it look bad for you, God, if you let my ungodly enemies defeat me?


The Psalms speak boldly, from the best and the not so good parts of human nature.

They express both trust and doubt. Pride and shame. Vengeance and compassion.


A week ago, I had planned to begin this morning’s worship with a grand responsive reading one of the big “Wow” Psalms, number 148. It offers praise to God for the wonders of Creation and has all of Creation joining in on the praising.:


3 Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars!

4 Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!

9 Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars!

10 Wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!


I love those words, those images. Sometimes, reading these words of Poetry, written from a state of awe, can rekindle that feeling of wonder that I sometimes feel walking in old woods or gazing at the night sky. I know it’s there, but this week, I just wasn’t feeling it. Not yet.


I couldn’t just skip over the bleakness of this past week. First, I was numb, which seemed more bearable than the grief and anxiety that were sure to follow, feelings that I would have to go through way before I could engage with analyses or essays about “Where do we go from here?” or exhortations to “Keep on keeping on!” I’ll get there, but I’d be lying to you if I said I’m already there.


On Friday, beginning to break through my numbness, I turned to Psalms of Lamentation.

There are the times when we’re too sad to even pray. We need others to pray for us, or we need someone else’s words to help us, to tell God just how bad it is.

Jesus in his despair on the cross prayed with the beginning of Psalm 22:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”


That Psalm continues with phrases that cut right through my defenses:

Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help…

I am poured out like water and all my bones are out of joint;

My heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast…”


That speaks to me. I have ever felt like that. I know that by humanity’s standards, I, with my multiple layers of privilege, I have a pretty easy life. But neither my privilege, nor going to church every Sunday have made me immune to personal tragedy.


How much more might this Psalm speak for the one living in the midst of war, isolated by a natural disaster, in the grips of depression… or for those who have the most to fear from the coming shifts in political power.


The Psalmists tell us, “Don’t hold back. You can say ANYTHING to God, and we’ll help you say it. This reminds me of a favorite Sacred Harp song called The Grieved Soul. I will not sing it, because there’s no such thing as a solo in Sacred Harp, but the words are:


Come, my soul and let us try, for a little season

Every burden to lay be, come and let us reason

What is this that casts thee down? Who are those that grieve thee?

Speak and let the worst be known. Speaking may relieve thee.


Yeah. Speak from your heart. Don’t worry. God can take it.


And sometimes prayer can change the person praying.


So, what will I do we do with this mixed bag of Psalms?

Remember, they are poetry, so skimming is not helpful.

I sometimes struggle with poetry because I resist the slowing down that it asks of me.

Reading aloud can help me slow down, and to hear music and feel the feeling.


I need to read with an open heart. And ask the Spirit to guide me.

To discern the fundamental from the cultural, the divine from the human.

To find strength for the parts of myself that need to be and should be strengthened.


I will lead us into open worship with a reading from Psalm 130:


Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.

Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!


If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?

But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.


I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,

And in his word I hope; My soul waits for the Lord

More than those who watch for the morning

More than those who watch for the morning.

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