March 14, 2004
"Thou Preparest a Table Before Me"
Linda A. Knieriemen
Whom do you trust to keep you safe?
Time magazine calls this the central question facing us this election year. [1] This is the question they say about which Senator Kerry and President Bush become truly impassioned. This is the question -- more than tax policy, the environment, and social issues -- which defines the differences between them.
The writer of the lead article asks, "Whom do you trust to keep you safe?" A leader who sees the world as dangerous, or one that sees it as complex? A leader who is a war hero, or one who has experience as a war president? One who sees a deeply intertwined world and speaks five languages, or one who speaks in black and white and cares less about being liked than being right? That’s how Time magazine defines our choices. Whom does America trust to keep it safe?
Safety. Of course it is a central question for the United States of America in these uncertain days of terrorism and war, when our enemies appear closer and more lethal. Our curiosity responds to reports from embedded journalists but such reports only serve to augment our fears and our sense of vulnerability. Airport security measures remind us in case we forget that the world is a dangerous place. We should wonder who will keep us safe.
But when most of us wake up each morning we have more immediate enemies confronting our safety than Al Quaida. We have the common cold virus, drunk and reckless drivers, bullies on the playground, burglars, child molesters, and rapists. Surrounded by enemies like these whom/what do you trust -- Lysol, traffic police, your teachers, home alarm systems, mace, or your legally concealed weapon?
Then there are the personal “enemies”. You might not call them enemies, but they are not friends -- the kid in your class who ignores you and talks about you behind your back; the friend you trusted with a confidence who has betrayed you; the in-law who always criticizes your behavior; the colleague who mocks you because you are a democrat or a republican; or the church friend who didn’t realize you were a “liberal” or a “conservative” who doesn’t speak to you so freely any more.
Whom do you trust to keep you safe from those who would attack your self-esteem, your happiness, or your well-being? What keeps you safe when your enemy is you?
The question for today is, how does your faith respond to a world with these realities? Does your faith work for you when you are eyeball-to-eyeball with your adversaries?
As you roll that question around I want to turn to the Harry Potter readers in the congregation (I gave a presentation to them two weeks ago about the gospel and Harry Potter). What keeps Harry and Ron and Hermione and Hagrid from giving into their fear when they know Lord Voldemort (their enemy) has returned at the end of book four, Goblet of Fire? Whom do they trust? Where do THEY find their sense of safety? Do they find it from Professor Dumbledore? In Hagrid’s words at the end of the fourth book, “Great man, Dumbledore. S’long as we got him, I’m not too worried." [2]
Our text isn’t about Wizard Harry but about Shepherd David. In his dangerous world where nations rage among nation, his vote is cast for the Lord! It's cast for Yahweh, the God of his ancestors, because Yahweh, the Good Shepherd, creates such a place of safety and comfort that even when enemies are hovering, he can relax enough to enjoy a feast!
The Good Shepherd. He’s safe as long as he has “the Good Shepherd”.
For David, faith in the Good Shepherd is a faith that works. Every time we read or sing the 23rd Psalm, we affirm that same faith. We, like Harry or David, have options among competing loyalties….or whether to vote at all. This sermon is a reminder to vote and to vote for God of Jesus Christ, who called himself The Good Shepherd.
A Good Shepherd faith works because it has its eyes wide open.
A Good Shepherd faith works because it can transform fear.
A Good Shepherd faith works because it offers the comfort of home.
Those are the three points…..we’ll take them one at a time.
I. A good shepherd stays alert…..eyes wide open.
A good shepherd stays alert….with eyes wide open and recognizes danger. A shepherd knows what spells danger for the sheep -- fatigue, thirst, hunger, cliffs, wolves, snakes, and poisonous grasses. The eyes of a good shepherd find the nourishing pastures, and the clear streams (trained from an early age); the shepherd knows the snake’s hiding places, the wolves' track, and the poisonous grasses.
All of us have enemies and adversaries. I meet people every now and then who seemingly have blinders on to any hazards. As it was Teflon faith believing that God coats them with a magical protection to keep them out of danger and that they are no longer responsible. Trusting the Good Shepherd doesn’t mean we no longer have to use our brains or our instincts; it doesn't mean that we no longer have to use our reason and education to protect ourselves. From an early age our parents teach us where danger lies. I remember being told by my grandmother not to walk on the same side of the street as a bar (that was a little over sensitive, but I learned to be cautious about alcohol). Parents and television teach children today about good touch and bad touch to protect them from abusive adults -- their enemies. The Ten Commandments teach us to not lie, steal, covet, or commit adultery, behaviors that separate us from community with God and one another. Those behaviors are our enemies.
Jesus never commanded his followers to be enemy-free! In fact (just the opposite) he said to expect it.
Eyes wide open…having faith doesn’t free us from using our human wisdom to identify danger so that we can act for our own safety.
II. A faith that works recognizes the value of fear, but for transformation, not control.
Anthony de Mello tells this story:
Pestilence (that is, capital “P” disease embodied) was on its way to Damascus and sped by a chief’s caravan in the desert.
“Where are you speeding to?" asked the chief.
“To Damascus. I mean to take 1,000 lives.”
On its way back from Damascus, Pestilence passed by the caravan again. The chief said, “It was 50,000 lives that you took, not 1,000.”
“No”, said Pestilence. “I took a 1,000. It was Fear that took the rest."
On the one hand, Fear can be a gift which informs us. Our faith has failed when fear itself becomes the enemy, when we have given in to it. A faith that works transforms fear into courage.
If Riley’s favorite new book is Lou Smedes' My God and I, my favorite new book is Rabbi Harold Kushner’s The Lord is My Shepherd. Healing Wisdom of the Twenty Third Psalm. In his chapter on enemies, Kushner turns to a midrash attributed to the contemporary thinker Zalman Schachter (one definition of a midrash is the Jewish technique of finding ideas in the text that the author didn’t know he or she was putting there). Rather than allowing his enemies to get the best of him, each year Schachter convenes in his imagination a dinner party of his enemies, inviting everyone with whom he is on bad terms, everyone who has been mean to him or his family. Everyone who has hurt, offended, or disappointed him is invited to this imaginary feast. In the course of this mental banquet, he goes around the table reflecting on each, speaking with each. Even as a mental exercise, it’s a courageous step! Some guests have taught him that it is unrealistic to expect too much from the average person. Some guests are at the table because they have disappointed him with their hypocrisy by not living up to the standards they claim to believe in. Others around the table help him to understand himself better allowing anger to be transformed into gratitude. At the place of those who hurt him deeply, he will stop and ask himself why was this such a hot button issue for me? A knee-jerk reaction becomes instructive for his growth. Another might stimulate wondering what this person reminded him of in his childhood -- some reawakened feeling of sibling rivalry?
Such a “creative misreading” of this passage of scripture just might be a helpful exercise for all of us this Lenten season. Recognizing our enemies is not only protective; it can be transforming.
III. Finally, a Good Shepherd faith offers the comforts of home.
Imagine you are fleeing in the desert from an accuser determined to do you harm. You would need only to touch the edge of the tent flap -- not even get inside and out-of-sight in order to have sanctuary. You could catch your breath, assess your options, and hope for backup! The rules of desert hospitality mean your enemies can gather around you but they can not hurt you. The Good Shepherd who is now your host (the metaphor changes in the middle of the Psalm) not only gives you shaded sanctuary and water to quench your thirst; the Good Shepherd invites you in and prepares a meal for you. But think about this for a minute. How is your appetite when you are afraid? Do you lose it? Maybe a few of us binge. Your Good Shepherd combines the graciousness of the most skilled host with the love of the kindest mother, and the aromas of the most effective comfort foods, and produces “home”. Your good shepherd says, "Come in, sit down, take off your sandals, remove your coat, recline at my table, and refresh yourself. My house is your house. There is nothing to fear." Your response can only be a grateful, "you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."
One of you brought to me yesterday a children’s picture book of Psalm 23, beautifully illustrated in an African American context. On one page a family sits inside a cozy home eating a traditional supper, while outside the window lurk three ominous, young men attired in leather jackets seemingly looking for trouble. But the children are home, relaxed, comforted by parents, nurtured by love and food. The Isaac Watts translation of the 23rd Psalm closes with those wonderful words, “no longer stranger or a guest, but like a child at home".
Has it ever occurred to you that when Jesus (the Good Shepherd) spread the Passover table before his friends, he spread it in the presence of enemies -- Betrayer Judas, Doubter Thomas, and Denier Peter? And that out the door, down the stairs, across the shadowed streets, his enemies plotted his capture and his death? But now, at this point on the journey, the hospitality is lavish and the comfort unmatchable; it is a foretaste of the home at journey’s end. This is when we need to come to the table for courage and comfort. We need to be with Jesus when the going is the hardest.
God does not eliminate all our enemies from our lives but God does offer sanctuary as we journey in their midst, and finally gives us safety and sanctuary of a permanent resting place.
The genius Leonard Bernstein said in 2 minutes of music what I’ve tried to convey in 18 in the Chichester Psalms. As the second movement begins, a boy soprano is tenderly singing in Hebrew, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." Abruptly, the choir enters with the contrasting harshness of Psalm 2, “Why do the nations conspire, why do the nations rage"! Dissonant tones convey enemies fighting enemies and one wonders if the cries of battle won’t overrule the sweet lyric verses of comfort, but gradually the voices of the rulers sputter out and only the melody of the trusting shepherd is left. “The Lord is my shepherd…..you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…..surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
The Good Shepherd. So long as we have the Good Shepherd.
Whom do you trust to keep you safe?
Amen.