"The soul itself is symphonic: On Psalm 96, St. Hildegarde, and singing your song TODAY"

***NOTE TO READER***

You know, it's a great thing that many people read these sermons who are not sitting in the pews immediately in front of me.

At the same time, this larger audience makes preaching complicated. For example, this sermon mentions the untimely and tragic death of a church member the day before--therefore a palpable grief was present in the room as it was being preached, a feeling and a spirit which cannot be relayed in print.

This sermon also tells two different stories of my ministry in previous congregations. This is always risky to do, as I never want to misrepresent events or people, and my memory is never perfect! But I also find it so helpful to tell the stories of how I have seen God at work, in real places and among real people. If you remember things differently, I ask for your grace.

So...with that, read on, dear readers.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  Psalm 19:14

***

Sermon for Sunday 22 October 2017

20^th Sunday after Pentecost

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith

Psalm 96

“Pastor Carrie, we never sing my favorite hymn on Sunday morning. And why are we singing all these new songs? Can’t we stick to the old favorites?”

I was hearing comments like this so often, and from such a chorus of voices, that one summer (with the support of the church worship committee, of course) we launched an experiment. A box was placed at the back of the sanctuary with paper and a pencil and a hymnal next to it, and members were invited to write down both title and number of their favorite hymns. Then, every week of the summer, our Sunday worship would feature only these “old favorites”.  (Also known as: None of Pastor Carrie’s “weird choices”!)

The results were somewhat predictable. As expected, when we opened the box, it contained an overwhelming multitude of requests for “Amazing Grace” and “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”

But what surprised many was how the rest of the box consisted of papers notating almost every other hymn in the book.

So, that summer, we sang “Amazing Grace” and “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”

But we also sang “Be Thou My Vision”, “Lift Every Voice and Sing”, and “Shout to the Lord.”

We sang old songs, and new songs. We sang familiar and unfamiliar tunes. We sang hymns in Spanish and German and chanted melodies in Latin. Some we sang in full four-part harmony, and some we could only hum along and pretend to know (or even pretend to enjoy).

Of course, I was pleased that the chorus of complainers was silenced for a bit (at least on this issue…)

But the best thing our congregation learned that summer is there are so many songs to sing.

There are so many songs to sing, and so many ways to praise the One the psalmist calls “great, and greatly to be praised”, the One who made the heavens, the One who is to be feared above all “little g” gods.

There are so many songs to sing: so why, oh why do we keep singing the same tunes?

I would say humanity is like a broken record, but that would show my age.

Maybe I should say that humanity acts like it doesn’t have WiFi, and is therefore forced to play the same songs from the ancient iPod it had in Middle School.

There are so many songs to sing in this one precious life, on this one exquisite earth, but humanity chooses instead to pound out the drum beat of war, and division, and hatred.

Humanity chooses to sing love songs to money and privilege and power over others.

We sing occupation, and walls, and checkpoints,

We sing racism and acceptance of sexual assault and homophobia,

Our broken and sinful humanity chooses, time after time, to repeat melodies of fear, to add harmony and counterpoint, to remix them for new generations:

We sing the fear of change

Fear of difference

Fear of death

And fear, even, of life and living!

There are so many songs to sing, and yet war, hatred, power and fear remain the soundtrack to our lives.

I can just imagine the Beloved Creator waking up again to this same old soundtrack and saying,

“People, please! Please sing me a NEW SONG.”

Please sing me a song of praise.

Please sing me a song of delight in my magnificent Creation.

Please sing me a melody of mercy,

Sing for me your delight in diversity and your love of living together,

And for goodness’ sake, give me a good bassline: a foundation of justice for the poor and the oppressed.

It’s all about that bass, Amen!

For as the psalmist proclaimed:

“Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth.

Sing to the LORD, bless the name of the LORD; proclaim God’s salvation from day to day. Declare God’s glory among the nations and God’s wonders among all peoples. For great is the LORD and greatly to be praised, more to be feared than all gods.”

Now, at this point in the sermon I want to stop and acknowledge that your preacher is a musician.

A third-generation musician.

My parents and grand-parents, my aunt and uncle, and nearly everyone else in my family are professional and semi-professional musicians. So of course, Psalm 96 and its musical images mean a lot to me.

But I understand there are some of you have been thinking this whole time, “I’m not singing anything, Pastor Carrie. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” And I get that.

Perhaps you feel the way I would feel if the preacher stood and gave a sermon based on a sports analogy!

And yet, for those of you who feel musically disinclined,

For those of you who say you could never sing any kind of song,

And especially those of you who wonder if you even have a song to sing,

I want to introduce you to Hildegarde of Bingen.

Hildegarde was a nun, an author, a mystic, and a composer of music: a true polymath. She lived in the 11^th century, around the time this chapel was being built, as a matter of fact.

Because she was a musician herself, Hidegarde often wrote about God as composer, and of Christians as making the music of God.

In her work “Illuminations” she wrote:

“All of creation is a symphony of the Holy Spirit which is joy and jubilation.”

and: 

“O Trinity, you are music, you are life.”

She also wrote:

“The soul itself is symphonic.”

The soul itself is symphonic!

Your soul, itself, is symphonic!

In other words: No one is tone deaf.

No one is unable to sing praises to the one God, the creator of heaven and earth.

Not one human is consigned to sing the song of the powers and principalities, or the song of despair.

Not one of you is left out of the choir, for you yourself already possess the song of the universe. You know it already, deep within you.

As Hildegarde wrote:

“The marvels of God are not brought forth from one's self. Rather, it is more like a chord, a sound that is played. The tone does not come out of the chord itself, but rather, through the touch of the Musician. I am, of course, the lyre and harp of God's kindness.”

Dear people, you are not the composer – you are the singer.

You are singing the song of God, and the melody of creation.

Every day you are sounding out God’s chords of peace and justice,

Love and mercy

Gentleness, Kindness,

Prophetic witness and godly troublemaking.

Therefore, when the psalmist proclaims, “Sing the Lord a new song”, this is not only a message for Shadia, Brittany, and Karis, and the other trained musicians in the room today. This message is for each one of you. For those who have good voices, and those who don’t.

Psalm 96 says even the sea thunders, and the fields are joyful, and the trees in the wood shout for joy!

Therefore, sing your song! Sing it loud. Sing it proud. For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised!

Majesty and magnificence are in God’s presence!

Power and splendor are in God’s sanctuary!

Sing, dear people, and not only because the psalmist told us to, and not only because we happen to like the hymns chosen for today.

We sing, because as Christians, we believe God sang a new song on Easter morning.

God sang a new song through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. On that glorious day, a new song of liberation, of hope, of life, of love, sounded throughout the whole earth.

Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, is himself a new song, sounding out across time and space. The witness of Jesus’ birth under occupation, his life and his teachings, his execution by the state, and his glorious resurrection in defiance of every expectation is a radically new song—a song the world needs.

The witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection sang a new song, too, and it wasn’t always easy.

Mary Magdalene and Peter and all the apostles were criticized, persecuted, mocked and even killed for it.

It’s not easy to sing love and peace, mercy and reconciliation, when everyone around you is humming something different. It takes concentration. It takes courage. It takes fortitude. It helps, though, when there are two or three with you.

It helps when there are two or three, for example, who might join their voices with yours, who might even sing in harmony.

This morning, I am very aware of the untimely death of Redeemer church member Ilja Anthonissen. Ilja was a lovely man, a man of faith, a father and a husband and truly a gentle person. I admit, I never heard Ilja’s singing voice, although he often sat in the front row! I have no idea if he was a good musician.

But i do know Ilja sang his particular song of faith every day, here in Jerusalem and in his home country. 

And I although I am confident that Ilja is singing with the angels today, I am heartbroken for Marleen, Marieke, and Nils, his wife and children, and for the Dutch Christian community here in Jerusalem, which benefited from his faithful and loving spirit--which benefited from his voice in our little choir called Redeemer. 

Partly as a result of Ilja’s untimely passing, I confess that this morning, I am feeling, in a real way, the urgency to sing my own song of faith and love, every single day.

RIGHT NOW.

Earlier this week, as I contemplated Psalm 96, I also thought about Conrad.

Conrad was a confirmation student in my previous church.

Conrad had both Down Syndrome and autism, and was not verbal. And yet he had been part of Sunday school and confirmation classes throughout school. His parents were unflagging advocates for his inclusion in every aspect of school and church life.

When it came time for Conrad to be confirmed, I wondered how we would handle it. One part of the confirmation curriculum was for each child to understand his or her spiritual gifts—and then to commit to using that gift for the good of God’s mission and the good of the church.

So what was Conrad’s gift?

How could we know his spiritual gift, if he couldn’t do the test?!

But we didn’t need to do the traditional “spiritual inventory” test for Conrad.

Instead, his classmates answered for him. They said:

Conrad smiles. He always smiles. He makes us feel happy and welcome.

And it was true – Conard was always at the church door, overjoyed to see each and every one of them and to shake their hand.

I think now about what a gift that truly was: You may not remember middle school, but I know that in your early teens, life is not often filled with smiles. Life is often full of anxiety, and judgement from others, and worry over clothes and relationships and futures and grades.

And then there was Conrad.

Conrad, with his bright smile.

Conrad, with his eager handshake.

Conrad, always singing his melody of wonder at the beauty of creation, the beauty of humanity, the beauty of his friends at church—without words, but with every fiber of his being.

On the day of confirmation, when all 25 of the students lined up to be confirmed, Conrad was with them in his red robe. He was so proud.

But there was one more part that worried me. Part of the service required that I go down the line and ask each student, in turn, if they affirmed their baptism in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and promised to live a life that reflected that baptism.

Each student was supposed to say “I do, and I ask God to help and guide me.”

When I got to Conrad, I asked the same question. He looked at me with his brilliant smile, and then gave me an enthusiastic “thumbs up.”

Which meant: “I do, and I ask God to help and guide me.”

Sing to the Lord a new song;

sing to the Lord, all the earth.

Sing to the Lord, bless the name of the Lord;

proclaim God’s salvation from day to day.
Declare God’s glory among the nations

and God’s wonders among all peoples.
For great is the Lord and greatly to be praised,

more to be feared than all gods. 

I hope this morning that it helps you to hear once again, that each of you has a song to sing: and you don’t need to compose the song yourself.

This new song is bursting forth from God’s beloved creation…from within you!

All you need to do is let it sound out.

You are singing praise to God already.

Every note

Every chord

Every drum beat of peace, love, and justice, sounded in the name of Jesus, crucified and risen:

This is the music for which we were designed.

You were composed for this.

Amen.