The Stream

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said: Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. A few centuries later, a desert father named Abba Poemem cranked it up a bit and said: Do not give your heart to that which does not satisfy your heart.

I hear both statements as challenge. They make us think about where we give our hearts, what we value, where we spend our time, where we draw our strength. What are the resources we tap in our own journey? The implication of these statements is that we sometimes treasure things that will not sustain us. We treasure that which is of no ultimate value. These statements also imply that we have agency in deciding what we value, and where we will seek resources for a meaningful life.

That’s what the first psalm is getting at. It’s included above, and you may have heard it in church yesterday. As the first psalm, it’s been described as a preface to the 149 psalms that follow, an introduction to this remarkable repository of wisdom teaching. Some of it was written 3000 years ago and yet I find the psalms speak as if written yesterday.

As in many places in scripture, this first psalm presents a spiritual fork in the road. The choice was expressed by Joshua as the children of Israel entered the promised land. He said: Choose this day who you will serve. The choice was expressed by Jesus in Luke’s version of the beatitudes which includes blessings and woes, two distinct pathways.

The first psalm speaks of those who are blessed in the ways that they choose to make their way in the world. They choose not to walk or linger or sit in the ways that counter God’s life. Note the verbs: walk, linger, sit. There are all kinds of ways we can live our lives separated from God’s life, some more active than others.

The blessed ones are like a tree planted by a source of water. They have given their heart to that which satisfies their heart. They’re plugged in, meditating on God’s teaching day and night, letting that wisdom permeate all they do.

Compare and contrast with those separated from that life-giving stream. They are not plugged in. Their battery is empty. They have run out of gas. They’re running on fumes. They are like the chaff which the wind blows away. They have no root.

Yogi Berra said: When you come to a fork in the road, take it. As the psalm presents this choice, it is describing two kinds of people. My own experience is that on any given day, I can be both of those folks. Emily Dickinson said that she believed and disbelieved a hundred times an hour. She said it made her faith nimble. I don’t know how nimble my faith is, but I do sometimes try to walk both paths at the same time. Sometimes I plug into the life giving stream. Sometimes I prefer to try to rely on my own grand skill. Is there any hope for conflicted folks, like me?

With all this talk about our agency, a reminder that all is grace. There is a stream that can give us life is a gift. That gift remains available, always. There’s always a way to come back, to take steps on the right path, to plug into the life-giving stream.

What might you do to walk in that blessed way today? What might you do to tap into that loving, life-giving, liberating stream this week?

-Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!

Name that tune

Is there a song title that captures the way you’re feeling this Monday morning? Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen? You’re so vain (Carly Simon)? Is that all there is (Peggy Lee)? Glory days (The boss)?

I rarely remember sermons, even my own. But I remember a sermon that I heard more than 20 years ago, a sermon on Jesus’ parable about the sower and the seed. It’s the one where a farmer throws out seed on the ground and some of it takes and some of it doesn’t, for any number of reasons. The preacher focused on seed that was carried away by the birds of the air before it could take root. He compared it to those of us who may have had dreams snatched away. He noted the tragedy of people who never have the chance to sing their song in life. Maybe that’s been your experience. Maybe you know people who have had the experience. Maybe life’s challenges made you stop singing your song.

The psalm above is chosen for the sixth Sunday in the Easter season. You may have heard it in church yesterday. It’s an invitation to celebrate the possibility of new life. The psalm issues that invitation by calling for a new song, a song to the Lord. So what is the new song that you would like to sing with your life? What does it sound like? What are the lyrics? Minor or major key? And what was the old song?

In the Bible, when amazing things happen, people break into song. One of the oldest pieces of biblical literature is the song attributed to Miriam (Moses’ sister) after the deliverance at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:20, 21). Hannah broke into song after her son, Samuel, was born (I Samuel 2:1-10). Hannah’s song offered a template for Mary’s song, the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). Mary broke into song when she met with cousin Elizabeth and both of them realized they would bear children, one of them too young, the other too old.

Many of the psalms were songs offered in liturgy, reflecting the range of human experience. For me, one of the most poignant psalms, emerging from the experience of exile, has the children of Israel asking their captors: How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? The fact is, we may feel that our lives unfold in a kind of exile. We may wonder how we can manage a song. We may not feel like singing, thank you very much. And that is precisely when we hear a call to a new song.

Yesterday’s psalm seems to imply that we have a choice about the kind of song we want to sing with our lives. I’m wondering what a song sounds like when it is informed by the news of Easter. It’s a song that would reflect the possibility of resurrection, which means to stand again after one has been knocked down. It’s a song that would include an alleluia refrain, guided by praise of the God of creation. It’s a song that would reflect the joy of a dead end turning into a threshold.

Fact of the matter is, singing helps.

But don’t take my word for it. Whether the new song is metaphor, or an actual piece of music, hear the wisdom of Martin Luther: “My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary.” Hear the wisdom of Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “Music will help dissolve your perplexities and purify your character and sensibilities, and in time of care and sorrow, will keep a fountain of joy alive in you.” Hear the wisdom of Leonard Bernstein, particularly apt these days: ‘This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever.” As you think about your own song, pray the collect for artists and musicians printed in the column on the left. Celebrate the healing power of music, the power of a new song.

The old adage has it that the person who sings, prays twice. When we find our song, it stays with us in ways that intellectual propositions, theological constructs, and even brilliant sermons can not. As you make your way through this Monday, as you make your way through the Easter season, as you make your way through life, find your song. Name that tune. And sing it.

-Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!