(Rather longer than my usual posts - but a reflection for these times - sermon based on Psalm 90 preached at Clare United Reformed Church (Suffolk) earlier today)
Psalm 90, verse 13 – Turn, O Lord! How long?
Have compassion on your servants. Or, as The Message version puts it – Come back, God – how long do we have to wait? – and treat
your servants with kindness for a change. That really seems like a word for today,
doesn’t it? How long? How long is this going to go on? How long before we can see past this
virus? How long until we get back to
normal, or, more probably, move on to a new normal?
We are all longing for some kind of settled set of circumstances, for a
situation in which we are not constantly worrying whether new restrictions are
suddenly going to be imposed. We might
well call on God to make a difference.
It is interesting that this psalm, like this virus, offers a stark
reminder of human frailty.
It is a psalm that says something of the majesty of God. God is awesome, and we do well to remember
that. The psalm speaks of the timelessness
of God. That is not inappropriate on the
weekend when the clocks go back. We are
so governed by the clock. We rush around,
checking the time, ruled by our schedules.
When we were in Panama in the early nineties, I discovered that the hot
and humid climate meant that my wrist reacted badly to wearing a watch, and so
I stopped, and, to some extent, joined the Panamanian much more relaxed
attitude to time – things happen when they happen. Things happen when we are ready for them to
take place. To our minds, you just can’t
do that. It produces chaos. You just don’t know where you are, or where
you should be. But, you know, actually,
you can. It does work, especially when it
is the way in which everybody was operating.
You know, it was really liberating to stop wearing a watch and, mostly, not
know exactly what time it was. The real
difficult was that I had to re-learn the conventional UK way when I returned,
and I think it took rather longer than it should have. Indeed, I am not quite sure that I have entirely
got there yet.
Of course, we can’t ignore time, and commitments to do things at
particular times, but perhaps we might make more of the bigger picture.
God, our great God, cares for us.
That is the other big thing to say here.
God accompanies us. God sustains
us. God values us. God loves us.
That is really important, and not least in these difficult times. We need to know that God is with us. We need to know that God cares about us.
This psalm is described as a prayer of Moses. That’s there in the title. Now, whether there is any truth in that or
not, I don’t know. I suspect not. But what authors often did was to attribute
their work to someone better known in order to add weight to it. I want you, in your imagination, to come with
me and Moses on a trip and to a place that he describes at the end of his life
in a moment recorded at the beginning of Deuteronomy 34.
We read: Then
Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah,
which is opposite Jericho, and the Lord showed him the whole land: Gilead as
far as Dan, all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of
Judah as far as the Western Sea, the Negeb, and the Plain – that is the valley
of Jericho, the city of palm trees – as far as Zoar. The Lord said to him, ‘This is the land of
which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, I will give it to
your descendants.’ I
want you to try and imagine hearing this psalm through Moses, standing there at
Pisgah, Moses, at the end of his life, having done so much for God, but just
taking a moment to contemplate the immensity of God, of God’s grace and
love. And yet, realising, as he stands,
looking at the promised land, that he is not going to get there. He has been headed in his direction all his
life. Tantalizingly, he can see it, but
it is just out of reach. He is able to
look. He can see the wonder of what lies
ahead. But he is not going to get to
embrace the experience. That is for
someone else. He is content to leave
things with God, but that won’t have stopped him wishing that it were
different, that he would have been the one to lead the people into the promised
land. After all, that’s been the whole
point of this journey.
Now, I am not going to suggest that we are in the same situation –
because I don’t think we are. But I do
just wonder if there are a few links to be made. We wish that this thing were over, that the
virus had gone. That’s a natural wish –
just as Moses wished to get into the promised land. Unlike Moses, we do have an expectation, and
a reasonable one, that we will get to the other side of it. But, for now, we have to be patient, to accept
that things are as they are, even though we look for a better day. Do you remember those words of the queen in
the speech she made back in April – “We should take comfort that while we may
have more still to endure, better days will return: we will be with our friends
again; we will be with our families again; we will meet again.”
The psalm accepts that there are difficult times, but it reminds us
that God is with us. As Christians, we
should be people of hope. I fervently
believe that – but the hope to which we are called is not a hope that buries
its head in the sand. Jesus himself calls
us to weep with those who weep. Sometimes
I think that we have forgotten how to lament and the place that lament should have
in our faith and theology. When I think
of the psalms as a whole, what tends to come first to my mind is the great notes
of praise that they sound. It is good to
give thanks to the Lord. O come, let us
sing to the Lord. And so on. But actually there are only twenty one praise
type psalms, while there are 58 psalms of lament. That is more than a third of the psalms. So, let’s lament our situation., There is nothing wrong with that – and it
takes us to where we started and the cry of verse 13 – Turn, O Lord!
How long? Have compassion on your
servants.
But
let that not be the whole story. Let us
mix in that our context is as a community of hope. Because, as the rest of the psalm reads, and
I am back with The Message version as, with the psalmist, I say to God: “Surprise us with love at daybreak; then we’ll skip
and dance all the day long. Make up for
the bad times with some good times; we’ve seen enough evil to last a lifetime. Let your servants see what you’re best at— the
ways you rule and bless your children. And
let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us, confirming the work that
we do.”