Year C Easter Sunday April 15, 2001
Title: “Pointing out to another what we have experienced from God’s hand to share the joy of solution.”
Psalm 118:1-29
This Song of Thanksgiving was sung in the context of a thank offering liturgy. We can easily divide the Psalm into two scenes: verses one to nineteen would be sung in procession up to the Temple entrance and verses twenty to twenty-nine would continue after entry during the presentation of gifts. The first half is spoken about Yahweh; the second half is spoken to Yahweh. One is outside and pertains to the ministry of praise to others, encouraging them to recognize Yahweh’s actions and join in on the praise and thanks; the other is inside where the righteous assembly already recognizes Yahweh’s presence but delights nonetheless in hearing about it. This Psalm is pretty typical of other thanksgiving Psalms, beginning with a call to praise and or give thanks in verses one to four, a recounting of the movement from distress of some sort to deliverance in verses five to nineteen, and mixture of personal testimony and communal “Amen-ing” and affirmation in verses twenty to twenty-nine.
The New Testament quotes or alludes to this Psalm often: at Jesus’ entrance to Jerusalem; in regard to Jesus’ passion and resurrection. It became the “Easter Psalm” of the Church in both east and west because of its reference to the rejected stone or cornerstone, the great day of deliverance and its spirit of joyful thanksgiving for Yahweh’s great deeds. This Psalm can easily be sung antiphonally, like the chorus in a Greek play or a choir in monastic Divine Office, and probably was so in the liturgical assembly, fitting a wide range of “That was then, this is now” scenarios from celebrations of military victories to individual deliverances from diseases and or a variety of “enemies.” It is equally well suited for private prayer of thanksgiving.
In verses one to four, house of Israel…house of Aaron…those who fear the Lord: This liturgical call to praise starts out with all of Israel being invited, specifies the priests, the house of Aaron, and generalizes to those who qualify to enter the Temple, the righteous, God-fearing Jews. Each invitation is followed by a repeated refrain extolling the loyal and everlasting love of Yahweh, a name mentioned in virtually every verse either as Yahweh or Yah, the short form.
In verses five to nine, in a “That was then, this is now” motif the singer recalls the distress he was in and contrasts it to the joy he now feels that God had delivered him. The “distress” has been identified as anything from a military battle to battle with false accusers to sickness to near-death. Regardless of the occasion the pattern is the same: movement from disorientation with life to re-orientation into a renewal of life. Verses eight and nine quote two Wisdom proverbs praising trust in God over trust in anything else, especially human beings and human powers. Only this trust dispels fear.
Verses ten to fourteen, the distress is now described in more intensified terms and compared to being under siege by the rest of the world; attacked by a swarm of stinger bees; and being trapped in a fire. Despite whatever opposition, the Lord has been his savior “salvation” and he wants the whole world to know it.
Verses fifteen to eighteen, from the vantage point of victory and deliverance over whatever the problem was, the singer can now interpret the disorienting experience as God’s chastisement, painful but “tough love”. In the tradition of Wisdom Literature he sees his misfortune and humiliation as part of divine discipline. Yahweh is like a loving Father who allows his Son to be in a tight spot in order that he may learn grace under fire, how to endure the stings of life and become stronger as a result of adversity. If the Father, God, has to step in at the last minute he will, but prefers the Son learn necessary lessons for life. Nonetheless he knows his success was the Lord’s doing and he is glad to testify to that fact.
Verses nineteen, open the gates of victory, “gates of righteousness.” This would refer to the Temple gates. Only those qualified were allowed to enter. The priests and Temple guards would be there like a border patrol to let pass only those who were “righteous,” that is the, qualified Jews. Ideally, righteousness is based on a right relationship with God, not external credentials. He will now offer his thanks to the Lord in the form of a sacrificial gift. Christians would see Christ saying this at heaven’s entrance.
The following verses may well have been sung antiphonally, back and forth between either the singer and the priests or the choir or the assembly. It is impossible to tell. For our purposes it is best to view them as more or less related confessional statements, that is, testimonies to the Lord and his ways.
In verse twenty, this is the Lord’s own gate. Some sort of sentinel, maybe a priest, would be responding to the singer’s determined announcement to enter. In general, the spirit of thanksgiving is the entrance to the presence of God, symbolized by the Temple gate. Christians would hear Christ saying this in John10: 7 “I am the gate.” Verse twenty-one, I thank you for you answered me, having gained entrance to God’s presence the first thing to do is to say “Thank you.”
Verses twenty-two, the stone rejected..cornerstone, The “That was then, this is now” motif is put into a confessional statement often quoted in the New Testament referring to Christ and his resurrection. This is a proverb warning of the narrowness of human judgment. What one day seems like a negative turns out in the light of another day to be a positive. The cornerstone holds everything together. Frequently the key element in a solution is the last thing to be recognized. What appeared to be worthless has now taken a place of honor. This describes the singer’s former and present state. The priests or choir are pointing out by this statement how consistent the singer’s situation is with God’s faithful love.
In verses twenty-two t five, now the entire assembly joins in. They all praise God for what he has done and continues to do. They ask him to “continue to continue.”
Verse twenty-five, grant salvation: The Hebrew for this translation is hoshi`a-na, transliterated as “hosanna.” Originally it was a cry for help, but here it seems to mean what it has come to mean in the New Testament an acclamation of praise for salvation already delivered as well as an expression of confidence that God will continue to save in the present and future.
In verses twenty-six to eight, the procession has approached the altar. The “horns” were the edges or corners of the altar. Whoever held on to them was granted “sanctuary.” The priests are probably actually blessing the singer at this point with the blessing of Aaron see Numbers 6: 24-26. The singer now “offers praise” in the form of a sacrificial gift.
Verse twenty-nine, this repeats the opening verse.
Liturgy expresses in a formal, regulated and orderly way the un-orchestrated experience of life, replete with disorder, unpredictability, spontaneity and messiness. In reality our “journey” through life can look more like a wild dance -chaotic and frenzied- than a purposeful walk. Yet, in liturgy, we represent the “progress” of life as a procession- a more or less straight and orderly, measured and musical, advance from one point to another. Such is the case with the liturgy of this Psalm. The singer recounts the “disorder” in such an orderly way one might lose contact with the reality of it and some do. Liturgy abstracts from the chaos of life a certain order and dramatically celebrates that order because it is the part God played in the events. The rest was just chaos, the distracting stuff, what keeps us from discerning God’s presence.
Distress, disorder, disaster can be harnessed by trust in God. The threat can be reduced. Prayer, heightened awareness, can do this for us. Then, amidst all the chaos and noise we can see a pattern hidden within it all. When we eye that and then put it into words of praise or recognition and thanks or appreciation for its being there at all, we are engaging in ministry. Yes, praising and thanking God is a ministry. How else will the person beside me experiencing the same chaos, see what I see? I have to tell the tale. When lovers, friends, etc. are on a journey- seeing the sights- most of the fun of it is pointing out to one another what we see and then enjoying it together. So it is with the “journey” of life. If we do not step out of the fray and celebrate the present moment by stopping to reflect on what is there we will miss the “patterns,” the points, the beauty and the enjoyment of them. We will also lose the motivating force- the Spirit, the grace of God- to either go on further in the same direction or change course.
“This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” The first half of this confession is contemplative. It just sees into the ordinary and perceives what is extraordinary and enjoys and admires the truth contacted. The second part is meditative. It turns the admiration into a resolution: let us make the most of this. We know this is potentially true of every day, even every moment. No wonder it became the slogan for Easter. It is all the more true and enjoyable because of where we have come from. Like the Psalmist, who remembered and recounted his distress, we realize that the depths of disappointment and despair are matched by equal heights of gladness and joy when we pass through the “door,” or cross the “threshold” separating us from the presence of God. The “Good Fridays” of life are always followed by “Easter Sundays” and the darkness of those Fridays make enjoyment of the brightness of those Sundays all the more abundant.
The rejected stone, today’s negatives, becomes the cornerstone, tomorrow’s positives, if and only if we see them from the viewpoint of eternity, the presence of God. We are constantly moving out of darkness into light. Like the Psalmist we can interpret the struggles and troubles as God’s chastisement, learning experiences teaching discipline for greater challenges. Like the Psalmist we do not disconnect the two poles of life, the positive and negative. If we do, then liturgy becomes what the prophets railed against. It becomes a fairy tale unrelated to reality, a flight of fancy and fantasy into an imagined utopian world rather than a summary of the real one, a statement of conviction that amidst the chaos there is order, amidst the hatred there is love. The Psalmist’s gratitude and ours would be mere empty, if pretty words, were it not for the fact that he neither forgot where he came from, disorientation, nor where he was and was going, re-orientation. Easter, then, is not and cannot be Easter unless it has incorporated Good Friday into it. Without that there is really nothing to praise and be thankful for. Easter is reality not fantasy and Good Friday makes it so. The extent of gratitude and its depth and or height is exactly parallel to its cause- the extent and scope of the need that has been met. Suffering, then, is itself a cause for gratitude when viewed under the light of eternity.
Thanksgiving brings order to and brings out the pattern of an otherwise disjointed life.
Gratitude unites memory and grace. It links separate experiences together.
The fundamental pattern of all life is a movement out of being well oriented to being disoriented and to being re-oriented.
The depths of disappointment and despair are matched by equal and even surpassing heights of gladness and fulfillment; the “Good Fridays” of life pass into “Easter Sundays.”
The Stone: In this Psalm God says, “Look at a stone. On one day builders might reject it as being unfit, useless, to be discounted as just another stone. But the next day they may see it differently and realize that it is just the right fit to be the main stone, the capstone or the cornerstone. The stone has not changed, only the builders perception of it.” So it is with Christ. Some reject him and even those who accept him sometimes reject his powerful grace. Others see him differently and realize he is the centerpiece, the principle of order in their lives. And so it can be with everything and every experience of life. Life remains rather constant. It is our perception of it and the meaning we ascribe to its moments and movements that change. Thus, it matters what principles we use to interpret life, its moments and movements. Gratitude is the best principle for it connects us to love and enables us to see love-in-action, the underlying constant in every moment. Miss that and we fail to see the possibilities for change and growth in every apparent disappointment. No gratitude, no hope; no joy.
Transitions: Seen from the larger perspective, the perspective of eternity, life is a series of transitions, movements or passages from one predominant state or stage to another. Caterpillars transition into butterflies; acorns into oaks; wheat into flour into bread; grapes into wine; children into adolescents into adults into elders. Morning transitions into afternoon into evening into night into morning again. Days transition into weeks into months into years into decades into centuries into millennia. What looks at first glance like a state turns out to be a stage of an ever-unfolding process. And the really major transition in anyone’s life, the transition from life to death to life renewed, from cross to resurrection, from disorientation to re-orientation, really happens not once but many times throughout a lifetime. If we interpret or characterize only the low points, the cross, or high points the resurrection, we might miss the real process and the real meaning. It is the in-between where life and grace really happen. On every tombstone-- capstone? cornerstone? there are two numbers, namely, the date of entrance, birth, and the date of exit, death. And in between them there is a dash. It is what happened during what the dash represents that matters. The dates are just markings, parentheses, if you will. The Psalmist uses a different metaphor to describe this experience, that of entering through a door or gate, a traditional metaphor for a transition, and a good one. However, seeing both metaphors at once opens up our vision. On the one hand, life is a long “dash” and, on the other hand it is short, like a step over a threshold. Both are true. Of course, there is a final transition, a final step, into full eternity. Yet, that very truth enables us to see life from that perspective as a series of transitions leading to that moment, that final moment. Everything before that moment is a stage, that is, a temporary state, not a final one. Every moment is also a movement, a transition, a step on the journey. That view, that perception, that interpretation of life evokes gratitude, gratitude for both where one is on the journey and where one is going. And gratitude connects us with love, God’s underlying attitude towards us, sustaining us on the journey and providing for our every real need to both persevere and finish. That interpretation enables us to experience both the lows and the highs of life as temporary stages and not final states. So we never need despair. We remain fundamentally well oriented towards life, are rarely disappointed or disoriented and ultimately gratefully re-oriented. Amen.
