Sermon - The Rev. Leah D. Schade
Reformation Lutheran Church, Media, PA
Sermons on the Psalms - Psalm 150
Oct. 14, 2007
Let’s
see if you remember what we learned about the beginning and end of the
psalter. Psalm 1 begins with . . . “Blessed”. Psalm 150 ends with .
. . “Hallelujah!” Very good. As you’ll recall, Psalm 1 was the
formal and intentional beginning of the Psalter, suggesting that living a life
following God’s commands is the way to true blessedness. “In relation to
that, Psalm 150 states the outcome of such a life . . . unencumbered praise. .
. [It is] an extravagant summons to praise, which seeks to mobilize all
creation with a spontaneous and unreserved act of adoration, praise, gratitude
and awe,” (Brueggemann, 167).
I have to tell you that Psalm 150 is one of my favorite psalms, for obvious
reasons - it talks about the harp! And it also mentions the drums, which is
what my husband plays. So we both love this psalm. In fact, we had
it read at our wedding, we like it so much.
Psalm 150 is the call to praise God, the doxology for the end of the
psalter. Praise is to come from God’s sanctuary, and then move out into
God’s mighty firmament. This suggests that praise unites both spheres of
the cosmos: heaven and earth. And this Psalm was specifically
chosen to be the capstone on the psalter. “All the preceding psalms have
given every possible reason for praising God,” (Hopkins, 31).
Think of the sampling of psalms we’ve covered in the last five weeks.
Psalm 1 showing us the right path, planting us like trees beside the
water. Psalm 22 expressing our agony when life brings us tragedy.
Psalm 23 comforting us with images of God as the shepherd and the host at the
great banquet. Psalm 146 moving us beyond our selfishness to help those
in need, to try on their shoes, so to speak, and understand their story.
Psalm 137, the beautifully dangerous psalm, calling our attention to those who
suffer brutal violence in our world, giving us permission to pray even our most
difficult emotions.
And now we arrive at Psalm 150 with nothing but praise in our hearts and on our
lips. We have come through the hard pilgrimage, we have survived the
abuse, we have waded through the fears and sorrows, and found ourselves at the
assembly of God’s people joining with the cosmos in humility, trust, hope,
prayer and praise.
We are to praise God simply because of who God is and what God does. And
Psalm 150 shines like a light from the top of the hill we have climbed,
illuminating all that we came through. The German theologian Artur Weiser
says that “from this position it may shed light on the whole Psalter. In
praising God the meaning of the world is fulfilled. To praise the
abundance of God’s power is the purpose which links together the most diverse voices
in heaven and on earth in a tremendous symphonic hymn of praise,” (Weiser,
841).
We are to praise God with every means available to us. This list of
instruments is meant to represent every being in the cosmos. In the words
of scholar John Eaton: “At the heart of the worship before God’s face,
they represent every voice in earth, seas and heavens. As horns are
blown, frame-drums tapped, strings swept and plucked, pipes breathed and
cymbals shivered, the sounds of nature come together - the praise of the waters
and the winds, grasses and leaves, lions and birds, goats and oxen, mothers and
children, and the circling, turning dancers represent the movement of the world
round God, from God and to God again,” (Eaton, 486).
Praising God is good for us. But, did you know - it’s also good for
God. Remember this is a relationship we’re talking about here. God
loves to hear us saying “We love you God!” As the writer Denise Hopkins
says, “When God is praised, and praised properly, God is the better for
it. God’s power becomes more focused; God’s power is magnified because
God allows and equips the entire universe to sing the divine praises,”
(Hopkins, 31).
Everything that breathes is to praise the Lord. But even more than that -
every part of God’s creation is to praise God, even the stones, as Jesus
said. When the people were singing hosannas as Jesus was making his
triumphal journey into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the officials tried to get him
to shush them up. I think they must have been Lutheran. Because
this is the way we often act. This kind of raucous exuberance is
embarrassing. It’s not dignified. We have this discomfort with
dancing to the Lord, as David did before the ark of the covenant. We are
a little leery when people start shouting amens during the sermon. Heck,
we can’t even clap on 2 and 4, let alone allow our bodies to sway to the music.
But Jesus tells those officials that if he commands his followers to be quiet,
even the stones will cry out. Every part of creation hums with the music
of the spheres. The waves clap against the shore. The wind sings
through the trees. Every atom vibrates with motion that creates sound on
some level.
It is so appropriate that we have this psalm on our Music Celebration
Sunday. You are being treated to both vocal ensembles - the Chancel Choir
and Souls Afire. You are hearing the stone-shaking rumbles of the organ,
and the loud, clanging cymbals of the drum. Soon we will hear our
children sing again with Julie leading them in song. Our teens lead us in
worship with ROCK Stars. We have a music program with three fabulous
leaders in place that are really going to kick it up a notch.
But even with all these great directors, singers and instrumentalists in place,
it’s still not complete. There’s something missing . . . YOU! And
you know who you are. You’re the one who won’t sing because you just
don’t like to. Someone told you once that you don’t have a nice voice, or
made fun of you for singing off key, and you’ve been clammed up ever
since. Or maybe you’re the one who refuses to sing when we’re doing a
song you don’t recognize. Or maybe you just think you’re too darn cool to
sing. I’ll tell you, there’s nothing that chases out the Holy Spirit
quicker than mockery and cynicism. All it takes is one person smirking at
the singing going on around him or her to throw a wet blanket on the fire of
the Holy Spirit.
I remember once having some conversations trying to figure out why people don’t
sing during worship. But no matter what the reason, when you withhold
your voice, you withhold something from our assembly, and you withhold
something from God. Perhaps we don’t realize how much is at stake in all
this. As Denise Hopkins says, “Perhaps we are unwilling to see God at
work concretely in the world and to praise and help in that work. Perhaps
we fear throwing our whole selves into worship and revealing too much about
ourselves and our dependence upon God,” (Hopkins,
32).
You praise makes a difference in the world. Your voice joins with the
singing of the universe, with the child next to you, with the saints in
heaven. There’s nothing like singing in a large group because you can at
once hear your own individual voice, and at the same time hear it blending in
with all the other voices around you. You are an individual, and you are
part of the community. You need them, and they need you. Again,
it’s about relationship. And we are all connected to God who created us
all.
Last year, Pastor Smoose did a sermon in which he actually had all of you sing
a part of a hymn in four-part harmony. It was one of the most amazing
moments in a worship service that I’ve ever experienced here. Because you
were all willing to participate and join your voices together. I want to
try that experiment again, because I think we each need to be reminded how
important it is to sing together. I don’t care if you think your voice is
terrible. Or if your kids kindly request for you to refrain from
singing. I don’t care if you never took music lessons and couldn’t tell a
B-flat from a G-sharp. I don’t care if what comes out of your mouth sounds like
a stone dropping. That’s okay. Because Jesus said that even the
stones will sing. And if that’s you - go ahead and make your joyful
noise, baby!
We’ll sing just the first eight notes of this next hymn, Beethoven’s “Ode to
Joy.” And we’re going to sing in 4-part harmony, in the great tradition
of Lutheran hymn-singing. For you music afficianados, we even printed all
four part instead of just the melody like we usually do. We’ll start with
the basses . . . tenors . . . altos . . . sopranos.
Now if we do this right, and we all sing together, you may experience that
tingle, that little shiver. That’s what it feels like to praise God,
truly praise God with your fellow worshipers. There is no other feeling
like it in the world. And I don’t want you to forget this. I want
you to sing from now on. I want you to sing hymns that you’ve never heard
before and songs we’ve sung so often, you’re tired of them. I want you to
sing at the beginning of the service when your voice is still cold, and I want
you to sing during communion when you think you need to be piously
silent.
I want you to sing like your life depends on it. Because it does.
The life of the world depends on our full participation in it. As Walter
Brueggeman says, “The Psalter intends to lead and nurture people to such a
freedom that finds its proper life in happy communion that knows no restraint
of convention or propriety. That is the hope for Israel and for all
creation,” (Brueggeman, 167).
And so we sing it again, Hallelujah, praise the Lord!
Sources:
Brueggemann, Walter, The Message of the Psalms, Augsburg, Minneapolis,
1984.
Eaton, John, The Psalms, 2005, Continuum, New York
Hopkins, Denie Dombkowski, Journey through the Psalms, United Church
Press, NY, 1990.
Weiser, Artur, The Psalms: A Commentary, The Westminster Press,
Philadelphia, 1962