St. Paul’s United Church                                             Good Friday, April 2, 2010

 

Song of Faith – Rev. David Mundy

 

Psalm 22                                                                     Matthew 27:45-50

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We have a good friend who is a whistler, which is unusual these days because, as you may have noticed, very few people whistle anymore. He is a farmer and he whistles away while he goes about his work in the shop and the barnyard. He is a good whistler but we have learned not to listen too closely because he never whistles through an entire tune.  Out come a few bars from a hymn or a pop tune and then he is on to something else. It’s good to hear him, but a little “crazy-making” if you expect the entire song.

 

Have you had that experience of hearing just a portion of a song, perhaps in an elevator, or as a car races by, or just having a line or two pop into your head, only to have it run around your brain? Sometimes it is stuck there, unbidden for what seems like forever.

 

This morning is Black Friday, God’s Friday, Good Friday – all names for the sombre day of crucifixion we remember each year, sometimes reluctantly, because it speaks to us of darkness and betrayal and death.  None of us enjoys attending funerals, and this is God’s funeral, the day we acknowledge that Jesus died on a cross and was laid in a tomb.

 

This is a day when our Christian song, our Song of Faith may be at its weakest and most mournful. We sing hymns that are not very joyful, which suits the tone of the day. And we are reminded that even on the cross Jesus sang his song of faith. That statement may puzzle you because we aren’t told specifically that Jesus sang during those agonizing hours of his execution. We did hear, though, that he uttered the opening words of a psalm, psalm 22, which was our psalm selection today. What are those words? “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  These are only part of verse one, which goes on to say “Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?” Two soul-shaking questions and then the second verse “O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer: and by night, but find no rest.”

 

Until recently it simply hadn’t occurred to me that Jesus might have sung those words from the cross rather than speak them, as a crie de coeur,” a cry of the heart. For the Jews of first-century Israel, the psalms were meant to be sung, not just spoken.  Nor did I stop to think that perhaps in those few words Jesus was inviting those who loved him to remember the rest of the psalm which moves from agony and abandonment and distress, back to a glimmer of hope once again, as we heard a few moments ago.  For the women at the foot of the cross, including Jesus’ mother, and for the eleven disciples who hovered around the edges, there had to be a sense that their world was collapsing around them.  Certainly those opening words of the psalm are heart-wrenching, but psalm 22 is a psalm of deliverance. What words might have come to mind in bits and snatches?

 

I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters,

in the midst of the congregation I will praise you . . .

 

So while I live my soul is yours . . .

 

One of the reasons this day resonates so strongly with us is because we too experience our Good Fridays of the soul, often wondering whether we can sing the song of life with any sense of hope and purpose. This can come through the world-weariness of the years, but honestly we can feel rather tuneless at any time of life.

 

When one of our daughters was quite young, she was having one of those rather glum moments that only a four–year-old can have. You know how it is; life just isn’t worth living for half an hour and then its time to play again. On this occasion though she was inconsolable for a while, so I sat down next to her and began whistling and then singing the words of a song that was a hit back then, Bobby McFerrin’s Don’t Worry Be Happy. This was not the correct thing to do. She pointed her little finger at me and said “don’t sing that song! I hate that song!” It was just too cheerful for the mood she was in.

 

There are times when we too are less than open to happy thoughts. We may learn how to mask our sadness and actually function reasonably well from day to day. But inside we are unsettled and we may even be doing our version of pointing a finger at God and saying “I hate that song!”

 

We may become so accustomed to this way of being that we are no longer open to a song of joy which we all hope will be our gift in Christ.  People in grief will mention that even though they love to sing, they can’t when they are so sad, and we understand why. Yet none of us wants to stay in that place

 

Again we will sing our chorus and consider what song of life we would like to sing again. One answer of course is that it is the song of Easter, the literal hymns and choruses of that day of joy. I’m sure you understand that this song can be figurative, the possibility of looking beyond the sadness in our soul to experience fullness of life, Christ’s give of salvation.

 

In the last century theologian Karl Barth visited a prison and preached a sermon in which he reminded the inmates that on Good Friday there were three convicts on death row. We often display one cross in our churches, the cross of Christ, yet there were two more. He said that of those three men who were executed, one was good, two were bad, one became good.  He was offering them a message of hope to those who might have felt hopeless.

 

The message of deliverance in psalm 22 and the message of deliverance in Christ is that our God is a redeeming God who sees the castoffs and the supposed undesirables of our world:

 

From you comes my praise in the great congregation . . .

The poor shall be satisfied;

those who seek him shall praise the Lord.

May your hearts live forever!

 

We remember even today when we focus on the suffering of Christ that our song of faith is a song of justice, as this psalm tells us, and we have the joyful opportunity to give voice and action to this message.

 

Recently one of the ridiculous, mean-spirited conservative commentators in the United States told his audience that if they heard the words “social justice” in their churches they should run away and never go back. He said that social justice was “code” for Nazism and Communism.

 

A wonderful thing happened as a result of this rant. Leaders from conservative churches and liberal churches and the Mormon church of which he claims to be a member stated that we cannot read the bible and we can’t follow Christ without a commitment to justice.

 

Jesus came to save us, but this day and Easter are not just about our individual souls.  >From the vantage point of the hill of Calvary Christ sings his song for all of humanity, for all of creation.

 

Earlier in our worship we repeated together a portion of the Song of Faith which is the latest faith statement of our United Church of Canada. The name alone speaks of promise and joy which wells us from Christ our saviour.

 

We place our hope in God.

We sing of a life beyond life

and a future good beyond imagining:

a new heaven and a new earth,

the end of sorrow, pain, and tears,

Christ’s return and life with God,

the making new of all things.

 

We yearn for the coming of that future,

even while participating in eternal life now.

Divine creation does not cease

until all things have found wholeness, union, and integration

with the common ground of all being.

As children of the Timeless One,

our time-bound lives will find completion

in the all-embracing Creator.

 

In the meantime, we embrace the present,

embodying hope, loving our enemies,

caring for the earth,

choosing life.                          

Grateful for God’s loving action,

we cannot keep from singing.

Creating and seeking relationship,

in awe and trust,

we witness to Holy Mystery who is Wholly Love.