SAINT ANTHONY PARK LUTHERAN CHURCH

WEDNESDAY, 21 MARCH 2007

TEXT: PSALM 30

PREACHER: FREDERICK J. GAISER

 

YOU HAVE HEALED ME

 

Introduction to the Songs of Thanksgiving

 

            Michael Rogness told us three weeks ago about the psalms of lament; now it’s time to hear the other side of the story. The laments said, “God, I’m in trouble. Help me! Why, O Lord?” The songs of thanksgiving say, “I was in trouble, and God helped me. Praise the Lord!” These psalms bear witness to the gracious work of God in the lives of individual Israelites. They tell others who God is and what God has down. There is a story inherent in each of these psalms. And tonight, we hear the story of Psalm 30—in the words of the psalm itself, in the words of Paul Gerhardt’s hymn paraphrase of the psalm, and in the words of a modern story that we imagine, let’s say the story of Mary.

I. You Have Healed Me (Psalm 30:1-5)

Leader: I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up, and did not let my foes rejoice over me.                         

Women:           O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.

                        O LORD, you brought up my soul from Sheol, restored me to life from among those gone down to the Pit.

Men:                Sing praises to the LORD, O you his faithful ones, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment; his favor is for a lifetime.

                        Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Homily Psalm 30:1-5

 

            Mary hasn’t been to church recently because she had been very ill, deathly ill in fact. And as is so often true, physical illness has produced emotional and spiritual illness as well. It is as though she has been lost to us. We have been praying for Mary for several months. But now, unless my eyes deceive me, here she comes through the door, looking bright and healthy. What a welcome sight!

            Mary, how good it is to see you.

            Even better to see you, says Mary. I have been sick for so long, but now I’m well. Beyond anything the doctors expected actually. I’m really well. They have outdone themselves!

            How wonderful, Mary, praise the Lord!

            Exactly! says Mary. Exactly! I hope all of you will rejoice with me today. It looked so bleak in the hospital and in my sickbed. Literally. I had to keep the shades drawn because the light hurt my eyes. But now I can’t get enough sun. God’s good earth looks so beautiful. And so do all of you. God has dried my tears; good doctors dried my tears; you have dried my tears with your prayers. Sing with me!

            We can now, Mary. Sometimes it’s hard to find reasons. But today you have given us one. God has given us one.

Solo                 I sing to you and praise you,

                        Lord, source of wondrous grace;

                        You’ve been my help, my rescue,

                        Set gifts before my face.

                        So now each day I live,

                        For everything you proffer

                        My praise and thanks I offer;

                        I have no more to give.

 

Hymn               I cried to you for healing,

                        For help in my distress;

                        You sent my sickness reeling,

                        Relieved all my duress.

                        You saved me from the Pit,

                        My life from death and sadness,

                        Restored my joy and gladness;

                        You’ve made me strong and fit.

 

II. What I Thought Was Prosperity (Psalm 30:6-7)

Leader: As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.”

                        By your favor, O LORD, you had established me as a strong mountain;

                        you hid your face; I was dismayed.

Homily Psalm 30:6-7

            So, Mary, how is it? Are you really back to your old self?

            Yes, I am, and more. A funny thing happened to me in all this. Things had always gone really well for me. You know that. I had always been lucky. But, truth to tell, I thought it was more than luck. I pretty much thought God was on my side, so nothing could go wrong. People even told me that. God has blessed you, Mary. You’re one of God’s good people, and God looks after his own, you know. So, I took my good health and my good stuff for granted. Worse, I suppose, I kinda figured that I deserved it. I never really understood the folks I called the whiners. I hate to admit that, but it’s true. Get up and go for it, I thought. God helps those who help themselves. It’s what my dad always said, and I guess I believed it.

            But then, wham: pain, hospitals, doctors, fear—lots of fear—depression, worry. What happened? If I deserved the good stuff, I thought I must have deserved the bad stuff, but, finally, that didn’t make sense, since I was still the same person. Finally, I decided it really wasn’t about what I deserve at all—not the blessings, not the pain. Sure, I saw God in the blessings; that was easy. It took longer to figure out that God was with me in the pain. The pastors helped me with their visits, and so did many of you. I read lots of psalms. When I was sick, I figured out that Jesus really meant it when he cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That had never been real to me before. God doesn’t forsake anybody, for heaven’s sake—surely not the good guys; you know, like Jesus or me! But if God’s care means a trouble-free life, then God apparently forsakes lots of good strong Christians. And they really feel like God has deserted them. So did I. My old rose-colored-glasses faith is gone now. It’s a loss, I guess. But there’s a greater gain. I will never be able to look at anybody again and figure that I can tell by their clothes or their condition or their cars or their capital whether God has blessed them or not. It’s all more mysterious than that. The god of rewards and punishments is less real to me now—maybe that God did desert me—but Jesus is more real, the God who has passed through the same pain that we have. Finally, all that’s a good thing! But it hurt a lot to get there.

Solo                 I said in my good fortune,

                        When all was fine and fair:

                        “I stand on firm foundation;

                        No cross have I to bear.

                        I never shall be moved—

                        God made me a strong mountain;

                        For me, God is a fountain

                        Of wealth, his love thus proved.”

 

Hymn               But then your face, once beaming,

                        From me, O God, you turned;

                        My comfort merely dreaming,

                        My fortune lost and burned.

                        Now, everything gone wrong,

                        Of pain I now was bearer;

                        Dismayed, I cried in terror,

                        “O Lord, my God, how long?”

 

 

III. What Profit Is There in My Death (Psalm 30:8-10)

Leader: To you, O LORD, I cried, and to the LORD I made supplication:

Men:                “What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?

Women:           Hear, O LORD, and be gracious to me! O LORD, be my helper!”

Homily             Psalm 30:8-10

            So, Mary, what do you think? Could you lead a forum on prayer for the sick? Tell us what worked for you?

            What works? I thought about it that way for a while. I suppose everybody does. The no-atheists-in-foxholes syndrome. God, get me out of this and I’ll never touch another Twinkie. You know how that is. What I did say was, God, if you let me die the choir loses a great soprano. Come on, you like praise, I like living, can’t we make a deal here? It was pretty crass—but pain will do that to you, I discovered.

            Actually, I think I was onto something, but I was probably thinking about it wrong. It really wasn’t a bargain. I didn’t have a lot of chips, to tell the truth. Other than the fact that God loves me. I came to believe that, in a much more personal way, and it helped a lot. I think the way it works is this: Not, if you heal me, I’ll praise you, so let’s work this out. Rather, God, now I’m in a place where, when I open my mouth, pain comes out. Put me in a place where, when I open my mouth, praise comes out—and I will praise you! Because I will! Because I can! Because I must! You can’t not, you know. If you lose a great treasure and then find it again, you have to tell somebody. It bubbles out.

Solo                 Are you now my opponent;

                        Have you become my foe?

                        Can death be your proponent;

                        What honor can it show?

                        What praise from dust and bones,

                        To which we waste and crumble

                        When in the grave we stumble,

                        What value death’s dark groans?

 

Hymn               As long as I am living,

                        My praise to you I sing.

                        The grave no glory giving,

                        There no song can I bring.

                        So, come, Lord, now I call,

                        Provide me life and power,

                        That I may, hour by hour,

                        Give you my self, my all.

 

IV. Mourning into Dancing (Psalm 30:11-12)

Leader: You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent.

All:                   O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever.

Homily Psalm 30:11-12

            Praise bubbles out, you said, Mary. Tell me more about that.

            Well, you know, I figured out that that was what the Bible means by praise. And pretty much what it means by evangelism, too. When God’s grace becomes real, so does my talking about it, singing about it. Did you ever see a rainbow and not tell the other people in the car? You can’t do that. As for me, I was in mourning, and now I’m dancing. My soul’s so happy that I can’t sit down.

            And, in a nutshell, Mary, what do you have to say?

            I guess that God’s steadfast love endures for ever. But with more particular content than that, really. We’re going toward Easter here. I think what God did for me is an Easter thing. I think that’s what God does for all of us. There’s this big Easter, you know, with an empty tomb and a walk to Emmaus and a promise of eternal life and hymns and anthems and lilies and breakfasts at church. That’s the heart of our message, of course. The big one. But there are little Easters, too. Whenever God brings life out of death, it’s a little Easter. I was sick and now I’m well. The Lord is risen. Last year, Andrew was in despair over the death of his wife and thought he’d never get out of bed again. Now, he’s back with us, with a new story of rebirth. The Lord is risen. And Janice, my roommate in the hospital, is probably never going to go home again. The cancer is eating her alive. But her faith gave me strength every day. The Lord is risen. Little Easters. They help us understand the big one. Still, we have to pass through Good Friday to get there. And now I see why. One of the things I learned in all this is that God is there in the dark moments, too; that God was there with Jesus in the darkest moment of all. We get to the new life God wants for us only through Jesus’ death and through Jesus’ presence with us in all the many deaths we suffer along the way. The Lord is risen, indeed!

            I like that, Mary, even if we’re not allowed to say “The Lord is risen” in Lent.

            Right, Mary laughs, but you know what? Easter may be fixed in our calendar, but not in God’s. It can happen anytime. Anytime. AMEN

 

Hymn               At last to me you’ve hearkened,

                        My sighing now is stilled;

                        My life no more is darkened,

                        My cross to joy fulfilled.

                        My suff’ring has an end,

                        No more my heart shall sorrow,

                        No trouble shall I borrow,

                        From me all cares you fend.

 

                        My soul is still no longer,

                        I sing your vict’ry won.

                        My voice grows ever stronger

                        To tell all you have done.

                        My ev’ry word and phrase,

                        From now until forever,

                        My witness ceasing never,

                        Will be of thanks and praise.

 

 

Hymn text: Paul Gerhardt, 1607-1676 (“Ich preise dich und singe”—Psalm 30).

Translation: Copyright © 2007, Frederick J. Gaiser.

 

March 12, 2007, marked the 400th anniversary of the birth of Paul Gerhardt, the hymn writer often called “the sweet singer of Lutheranism.” Gerhardt wrote such familiar hymns as “O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” “O Lord, How Shall I Meet You,” and “All My Heart Again Rejoices.” To commemorate this anniversary, Word & World, Luther Seminary’s theological journal, has been publishing previously untranslated Gerhardt hymns in contemporary translations by Fred Gaiser. “I Sing to You and Praise You” appears in the Spring  issue (2007).