October 11 2009 Sermon

A Pilgrimage of Praise (Joel 2: 21-24; Psalm 126; Matthew 6: 25-34)

Rev. Sally Harris

I guess we were lucky that it was a bright autumn day for this pilgrimage to the temple. I kicked a stone out of my way – the only power I seemed to possess on this beautiful day where begrudgingly I journeyed with my family to do the proper thing; the usual thing, the expected, yes demanded obligation of my meager and young existence. For generations our people have journeyed to the temple – I hear the stories… so much I can speak them without rehearsal and I dream them with my eyes closed. But I personally have no use for this ineffectual journey; this wasted time; and certainly our pitiful, if not pointless praise. A whole book of songs has been written to cheer us on our way. Centuries of weary, defeated people have plodded on these paths – three times a year we journey to our annual three pilgrimage-feasts: at the beginning and at the close of harvest and again when the grapes are gathered and the wine made. During these natural seasons of joy we sing our Songs of Ascent; our songs of the goings –up – pilgrim songs. This is our pilgrimage of praise. Sung, no matter what is really going on. How honest is that? I know these songs recall a time of long ago when a ragged remnant pilgrim people wandered, as in a dream, back to Jerusalem. They were exiled weeping but they returned laughing, singing with joy. But why I want to cry out. Why joy? Why laughing? So much loss, so little left to show for our faithfulness – what kind of God treats a people this way? These are my silent songs of pondering – not praise. Why should I praise at such a time as this – what is there to be thankful for when the crops are measly, we lost our cattle last month to drought, the young children will not survive this winter – what is there to sing about except perhaps a dirge; a lament? “We sing because it is our most subversive act.” A voice came out of the shadows cast by the hills that surrounded us. “Who are you speaking to stranger?” Had I spoken my thoughts out loud? Had I brought shame to my family? “I am just a fellow pilgrim with you. No need to fear. That is what our pilgrimage of praise proclaims – when all around you screams BE AFRAID, we listen to the pervasive word of our story that whispers in the night and reassures in the morning – do not be afraid, I am with you.” And then this stranger recalled the story with me – of how the cries of the afflicted folk of Egypt were set free by the great work of God and they sang: God is my strength and song… You have turned my mourning into dancing… and girded me with gladness. The story of Hannah was recalled for upon hearing the reassuring words of the priest Eli, Hannah went away with joy – she was still barren, there was no child in her womb and yet her whole being changed and the transformation issued forth a song of praise:

My soul is filled with joy in my Redeemer… There is no Holy One, no Rock like our God, who answered my request, who heard my cry. O God, you set the earth on sure foundations.

The miles flew by as we set our feet on the sure foundations of the earth and felt in our very bones the reassuring rhythm of a community at song. A communal celebration that bears witness to transformations too wonderful for any human capability to pull off – songs of impossibility. “These annual pilgrimages of praise place us totally outside ourselves,” this one explained. “Thanksgiving, giving thanks is a natural reminder that we are not autonomous and self-sufficient but are sustained by earth and sky and all that gives us nourishment for body and soul. Our pilgrimage of praise challenges the claims of any other person or structures to have ultimate place in our lives. Prayer and praise are the clearest testimonies to the reality of God in a world that denies God or is at least indifferent to such a being. Praise and prayer makes no sense in a world where God is not present or trusted.” The stranger then whispered with conviction, “The path of praise reminds us that in God’s world wonders have not ceased, that possibilities not yet dreamt of will happen, and that hope is an authentic stance.” And then this stranger disappeared and I looked and saw my community doing the most ridiculous thing – they were laughing and singing with great joy. (resource: Patrick D. Miller, Jr.)

I SEE THE REALITY I see our seed does not even sprout or sprouts and does not grow or grows and does not bear fruit
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see we are good ground; we are seed that reproduces thirty times;sixty times; one hundred times

I SEE THE REALITY I see us standing outside seeing and not understanding, hearing and not comprehending
lest we turn back and be forgiven
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see God's kingdom given to us

I SEE THE REALITY I see something insignificant; something that withers and dies.
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see the birds of the air I consider the lilies of the field

I SEE THE REALITY I see the war machine keep moving while soldiers keep dying
- I SEE THE MYSTERY People joining hands to pray for peace to help and to heal the world

I SEE THE REALITY I see the light under-cover the treasures hidden away and secrets kept
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see light is for shining, treasures are for finding and secrets are for telling

I SEE THE REALITY I see we get what we give, And those who have more to give, get more
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see still more than we can give, given to us

I SEE THE REALITY I see we sleep and get up night and day and we do not know what is happening.
- I SEE THE MYSTERY I see the earth produce on its own and the harvest has come


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