Good
morning. Worship really begins each week as we arrive and begin greeting
one another, in the parking garage, as we’re crossing the street,
out front and in the narthex. How are you? How was your week? How
are the kids? How was your vacation? How have you been feeling? Questions
of affection and love. Questions and responses that create relationship
and build community.
Now
let me ask you one additional question this morning as we move into
the sermon: “How is it with your soul?” No, really….how
is it with your soul?
Those
of you who’ve been around the Methodist church for any length
of time have probably heard this question before. It’s part
of our Methodist way. And it goes all the way back to John Wesley
himself. When he gathered his early bands of students together in
small groups, which he called “class meetings”, he would
always begin with the question, “How is it with your soul?”
And as they answered, they would listen to one another, support one
another, grieve with one another, rejoice with one another, as each
honestly took the temperature of their relationship with God.
Many
of you know that in a couple weeks I’ll be going to the very
place of the birth of that Methodist movement. Brothers John and Charles
Wesley were both students at Christ Church, in Oxford, England, when
they began organizing fellow students into small groups for spiritual
growth and accountability, never dreaming that their work would grow
into a major renewal movement in the Anglican Church and eventually
become a whole new denomination of the Christian family.
I’ll
be at Christ Church for ten days, having been selected to present
a paper at the Twelfth Oxford Institute of Methodist Theological Studies.
Our theme in this year of celebrating the 300th anniversary of the
birth of Charles Wesley, is taken from one of his hymns: "TO
SERVE THE PRESENT AGE, OUR CALLING TO FULFILL”. Faculty from
Methodist seminaries in the US and Britain, with some others from
around the world, as well as several pastors and bishops, will gather
to share papers and discussion, among them the leading Wesley scholars
in the world. I have a feeling it’s going to be “all Wesley
all the time” and I look forward to learning a great deal.
Wesley
was man of learning who wrote volumes across the years of his active
ministry. He was a man impassioned by the urgency of the Gospel, working
from long before dawn to well after dark into his nineties, tireless
in his zeal to share the love of Christ with people. He was a man
of integrity, holding himself and his new “Methodists”
strictly accountable for their work in advancing the kingdom. He balanced
these works of mercy, that is doing good to others, with works of
piety, what we now call spiritual disciplines-- prayer, fasting, regular
worship, study of Scripture and participation in Christian community.
For Wesley, the life of faith was a continuous growing in love, and
we grow by serving others, by being in covenant community with others,
and by nurturing a vital relationship with our God.
So,
each and every time his accountability groups met, he would ask: “How
is it with your soul?”
His
old question has no less power and pertinence for us today. Many people
are deeply touched when asked for the first time. And you know, we
don’t often think much about how our soul is doing. Through
the course of the day, we might have several conversations about how
a whole variety of things are going--our health, our car, our kids,
our classes, our pets, our gardens, our search for a job. Many of
us worry our body, our weight, our diet, our exercise plan, our mental
health, our relationships, our savings, our popularity, our career.
But our soul? How is it with your soul?
I
recently visited one of our more senior members—I have to be
careful in how I say this, but this wonderful saint is truly way up
there. Her mobility is limited, her health not the greatest. But she
has her prayer quilt at her side. And from her chair, she looks out
onto one lovely tree in which she’s placed a hummingbird feeder.
The next time I go, I’m going to take this beautiful stole and
show her our beautiful beaded hummingbirds, signs of the Holy Spirit.
She said, I just thank God for each new day and for being able to
see the birds and the wind in the tree. Here’s a saint who could
sing: “It is well with my soul.”
She didn’t get to that place overnight. And if she’d waited
until physical ailments overcame her, she might have become bitter
and resentful. But a lifetime of prayer and worship and Bible study
and Christian community have formed within her a soul that is at peace.
How
is it with your soul?
Our
Psalm for today as we continue through our Summer Sermon Series on
the Psalms, Psalm 52, will help us take stock of our soul. It’s
another short Psalm jam-packed with food for the soul. I thank Nate
and Claudia for reading it together so that we could more clearly
hear the two alternatives it presents.
On
the one hand, the Psalmist or a priest or other religious leader,
is grilling someone who has clearly fallen out of right relationship
with God. This is one who boasts and plots destruction. This is one
who is treacherous, who lies, who does more evil than good. Echoing
themes from last week’s Psalm, this poor soul seems to have
thought he could be saved by the riches of this world. And as a result,
is now spiritually uprooted and cut off from the land of the living.
He’s
got it all wrong. He’s treating people abusively and he’s
mocking God. And as a result, his relationship with God has been imperiled.
His soul is at risk.
And
on the other hand, the Psalmist sings: “But I am like a green
olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the steadfast love of God
forever and ever.” In sharp contrast to the one who has been
uprooted, this faithful soul has roots that go deep, grounding him,
nurturing him with the love and grace of the living God.
“I
am like a green olive tree in the house of God.” Remember, the
Psalms are poetry. They use phrases and images rich in symbolism and
layers of meaning. Why “olive tree” to describe a person
of deep faith?
The
olive tree is rich in symbolism throughout the Middle East where it
has been vital to life for over 5000 years. The roots of the olive
tree grow deep so that it can survive in those arid desert lands.
It provides fruit and oil for light. It grows slowly and lives to
a very old age.
I’m
going to share a funny story hear. Bear with me. Many of you know
Rabbi Jeff Marx, the rabbi of Santa Monica Synagogue. These are the
folks who hold their High Holy Day services here in our sanctuary
each year. And many of you know Rabbi Marx as a very well-informed
and a very funny speaker. Well, I mentioned to him last week that
I was finding it quite challenging to preach on the Psalms. I’d
already written most of the sermon but I thought surely the rabbi
could give me some great ideas. “What can I do with Psalm 52”,
I asked?
In
typical humorous fashion Jeff replied: “Psalm 52: I'd focus
on the image of one as a thriving olive tree.” (Great, I thought!
But he went on…) “Olive trees are short trees, twisted.
The fruit that they give off is inedible without being cured. And
the only way to harvest them is by beating them with a stick. Hmmm.
On second thought...”
.
But seriously…it is nevertheless true that all through the Hebrew
Scriptures, the olive tree is a symbol of fertility, prosperity and
peace. Remember the story of Noah’s Ark, how the dove goes out
and returns with an olive branch in her beak symbolizing peace and
the end of the flood. In Islam, the olive tree is the central tree,
the axis of the world. Its oil is used for healing and anointing,
just as in Christianity. In Christianity, Jesus prayed under an olive
tree on the Mount of Olives that night in the Garden of Gethsemane
after the Last Supper.
And
so for people with roots in this Mediterranean region, the olive tree
continues to symbolize for us all deliverance from the hardships of
life and all adversity and healing. “But as for me”, says
the Psalmist, “I am like a green olive tree in the house of
God.”
So, let’s ask ourselves some more spiritual questions: as we
gather for worship this morning, can you echo the Psalmist’s
words? Are you able to describe your soul as an olive tree, with deep
roots planted in the house of God? Would you describe your soul as
bearing fruit of healing and light and peace? How is it with your
soul?
Did you come to worship this morning seeking God? Did you come longing
to draw closer to God? Did you come yearning for a relationship with
the living God? How is it with your soul? Are you praying and worshipping
God with your every breath? Have you entrusted your soul to God’s
nurturing care so that you can be like a green olive tree in the house
of the Lord?
God
invites us into a loving and close relationship of faith that the
Psalmist calls the House of the Lord. And we know from other beautiful
Psalms that the House of the Lord is a place of beauty and peace.
It lacks for nothing. It is a place of abundance. In contrast to the
parched places of our lives, it is a place of vibrant and nourishing
green pastures. In contrast to the cacophonous noise of our daily
lives and frazzled spirits, it is a place of deep, still waters, where
silence carries us to the wellsprings of our faith. To dwell in the
house of the Lord, is to be rooted and grounded in the love of God.
Henri
Nouwen, the Catholic priest and religious teacher, observed that while
God constantly invites us into this spiritual home, many of us live
as if we’ve forgotten our address and are living at the wrong
place. We forget, we get confused, or we are just plain too arrogant
or stubborn or self-centered like the unrighteous one in Psalm 52
to move out of the house of self-righteousness and into the house
of the Lord. We need to let God uproot us from that place and replant
us by the living waters in the green pastures of the House of the
Lord.
So
this morning, if in any way you sense that your soul has been living
at the wrong address, this is the time to pack up and move. Let the
promise of Psalm 52 speak to you today. Let it hold up a mirror to
your soul. Let it be for you an opportunity to take the measure of
your soul. Let it be the invitation you’ve been needing to move
on in and make your home in the House of the Lord and thrive like
an olive tree.
For
Christ Jesus, the Gardener, is here in this moment, to open the door
and welcome us into the House of the Lord. “Make your home in
me, as I make my home in you,” he is saying. And in love, he
is asking: “How is it with your soul?”
©Patricia Farris, 2007. Permission is given for
brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.