“Letters to God”

a sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett
Pleasantville UCC, July 17, 2011
Psalm 13

“How long, O Lord?”
(Psalm 13:1)

From time to time people will ask me where they should begin their study of the Bible.  They find themselves hungry to read the scriptures but they get as far as the “begats” or the dietary and purity laws of Leviticus and, understandably, their passion wanes.  I am not a big believer in reading the Bible from start to finish.  For one thing, the books of the Bible are not in chronological order so if it is a sense of the broad sweep of biblical history that you are seeking, you won’t find it that way. 

There are many ways to form an acquaintance with scripture.  You can read all four gospels, pondering the differences and similarities of the gospel accounts.  You can study the letters of the Apostle Paul, which happen to be the earliest writings of the New Testament.  Or you can turn to one of my favorite sources -- The Psalms.

Today, as we take a break from the rigors of the Apostle, Paul, I want to turn our attention to the Book of Psalms because they can be so very valuable to us in all life’s circumstances.  They are not letters, as Paul’s writings are.  But they have the quality of speaking quite directly and honestly to God. And because they do, they communicate a kind of intimacy that causes me to feel that they are – in fact – a kind of correspondence with the Holy.

            You’ll find the Book of Psalms directly in the middle of your Bible.  There are 150 of them in all, and when you look at the words on the page you may notice that they are arranged differently than if they were simply telling a story.  The reason for this is that the psalms are poetry; more specifically, they are hymns, gathered into one book in the Hebrew Scriptures, which together comprised the hymnal of ancient Israel.  Most of the psalms were probably written to accompany particular acts of worship in the temple.  There are hymns or psalms of praise, there are songs of thanksgiving, there are songs which recount the story of the nation of Israel and tell of God’s intervention in Israel’s life, and there are laments.

            Today we are going to study the 13th Psalm; a psalm of lament.  In fact, it’s one of many laments which may be found in the Psalter.  A lament is just what it sounds like: a complaint -- a loud, mournful, wailing, holy complaint.  And the One to Whom we direct our loud and forceful complaint is none other than God. 

Look at the words of the 13th Psalm:  “How long, O Lord?  Wilt thou forget me for ever?  How long wilt thou hide thy face from me?  How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?”  This is not a cautious, polite, carefully worded “To Whom It May Concern.”  This is a spontaneous, demanding, gut-wrenching cry to the One Whom it Most Concerns.  Whether we hear anything more from the psalmist, whether we read anything more of this psalm, it is important for us to know that in this holy book, we are shown how we might speak to our God when we too, feel as if we have been forgotten.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
² How long must I bear pain^* in my soul,
and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

These words may have been written as long as 3000 years ago, but as far as I’m concerned, they still speak a powerful word to those who have felt the anguish of suffering so much so that they begin to wonder if God is, indeed, faithful after all.  While we do not know what he suffers, the writer of the 13th psalm has endured such sorrow and unrelenting grief, that he fears God has forgotten him entirely. His suffering has eclipsed the face of God, and he has become unable to sense God’s presence in his life.  His one fervent prayer is this: that he be allowed to see God once again.  “Give light to my eyes or I will sleep the sleep of death” -- a better description of despair, depression, defeat, I cannot imagine.

            This is the situation of the one who cries out to God in the 13th psalm.  This is the voice of one so engulfed by tragedy, disease, loneliness, isolation, fear, abandonment, disappointment, hardship, failure of relationship, you fill in the blank -- one who feels so utterly broken and alone, that their only desire is to receive some sign that God, still, is.  Because that is the even greater, unnamed fear for those who wait in pain.  The greater fear is that it is even worse than we think: God has not forgotten us; rather, God was never there in the first place. For those who suffer, for those who, like the psalmist, feel God’s face has been hidden from them, what is most difficult of all is not the experience of suffering, but the dark and terrifying suspicion that we have been entirely forsaken; that we have been taken in -- that there is no God; never was; never will be.

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
⁴ and my enemy will say, ‘I have prevailed’;
my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

We have no way of knowing whether the writer of the 13th Psalm was referring to real “enemies” who sought to overtake him and do physical harm to him, or whether his enemies were more the kind of inner demons that humans from all times have struggled with.  Nevertheless, it doesn’t take much for us to make the interpretive leap between the psalms language of “the enemy” and our own experiences of enmity.

There are families all over the world who have lost loved ones to violence this week. They could use this Psalm right now. There are friends among us fighting tough battles with disease.  They could use this Psalm right now.  No matter our circumstances, each of us have enemies with whom we wrestle, whether persons, situations, attitudes, diseases -- enemies which threaten to immobilize us and undo us; enemies which seem to gain the upper hand when we find ourselves in situations which shake our faith to its very core.

            The mournful cry and fervent prayer of the 13th Psalm, gives words to those who have no words -- those for whom words have failed.  This is the gift of the laments in the scriptures -- that we might know such language is available for us when we, too, must offer a holy complaint to our God. 

But the gift of the biblical lament does not leave off by simply offering us words with which to complain to God -- though that in itself is critical because it keeps the lines of communication open between us and our Creator.  The gift of the lament may be found as well in the final section of the psalm, in verses 5 and 6:

But I trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
⁶ I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.

After all the discouraged, “how long?” questions, after the poignant revelation that the psalmist feels near the breaking point, nonetheless, he finds it within himself to offer his praise to God.  And this praise is not based upon a sudden change in situation.  It is a praise which is based upon the knowledge of past action and grace: I have trusted; I will sing, because God has dealt bountifully with me. 

            The 13th Psalm offers us two strategies for living with God for the long haul: 1) to complain heartily to our God when things are not going well for us; and 2) to train ourselves to recall the memories of times past when things have, by the grace of God, gone very well for us. 

To proclaim God’s steadfast love in the midst of hardship is an affirmation of faith. It is a spiritual discipline which reminds us to recall God’s faithfulness to us in those times when we may be seduced into thinking that our God does not care about us.  Even if we have lost sight of God’s presence in our lives, calling to mind God’s faithfulness in the past trains our hearts and our spirits to recognize God’s steadfastness today.  The end of the psalm turns the question at the beginning of the psalm upside down.  The question: How long?  How long? The answer: God’s steadfastness endures forever and ever.

            One of the most important prayers in the Jewish tradition is called the Mourner’s Kaddish.  Traditionally, the Kaddish is prayed by mourners for eleven months after the death of a parent, child, or spouse.  Those who grieve stand and recite the Kaddish in worship, bearing witness to those who have not known the pain of loss.  What is striking about this prayer is that it is not a dirge, but rather, an affirmation of faith in God’s steadfast love -- a celebration of continuity in the face of rupture and loss.  It goes like this:

Magnified and sanctified be God’s great name in the world which He has created according to His will.  May He establish His kingdom soon, in our lifetime.  Let us say: Amen.

May His great name be praised to all eternity.

Hallowed and honored, extolled and exalted, adored and acclaimed be the name of the Holy One, though He is above all the praises, hymns, and songs of adoration which men can utter.  Let us say: Amen.

May God grant abundant peace and life to us and to all Israel.  Let us say: Amen.

May He who ordains harmony in the universe grant peace to us and to all Israel.  Let us say: Amen.

What a powerful witness of faith it is to proclaim God’s mighty deeds and unending faithfulness at a time when one suffers one of life’s greatest losses.

            The 13th Psalm invites us to let God be God for us.  It invites us to make our complaints before the One who is faithful to listen.  It invites us to wail and weep and rage and cry before the One who can sustain both it and us. And it invites us to remember to praise, to train ourselves to recall, to search and find the one shred of evidence that -- despite what may be an overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary today -- God is indeed faithful.  God is indeed merciful.  God’s steadfast love endures forever.

            I leave with you the words which came across the church’s fax line one day a few weeks ago.  It was sent by one of our members and offered this reminder: 

Good morning!  This is God. I will be handling all your problems today. 
I will not need your help.  So, have a good day.

            May it be so.  And may we live as witnesses to its truth.  Amen.