The Ascension Of Our Lord
Preaching
Hear My Voice
Preaching The Lectionary Psalms for Cycles A, B, C
Object:
(Occurs in all three cycles of the lectionary; see The Ascension Of Our Lord, Cycles A and B for alternative approaches.)
The brief Psalm 93 seems archaic, from the standpoint of our culture. The Lord is enthroned, here, as a cosmic king. The accoutrements of royalty are front and center: the robe of majesty, the girding-on of strength (suggesting a royal broadsword), the throne, the royal decree. Its message, loudly declared from the first verse onward, is simplicity itself: the Lord reigns!
Yet this one who reigns is like no ordinary king. The Lord rules over not only human affairs, but even the surging sea: the primeval waters, source of so many terrors for the Hebrew mind The turbulent waters of chaos bring no fear to the psalmist's heart, not this time. For God has tamed them, and God's providence continues to hold the floods at bay.
What does it mean to confess that the Lord reigns? Answering that question is hard, for in our secular democracy we have little experience of kings. They are an expensive luxury, long since discarded in favor of more utilitarian forms of government. (Some of us follow the latest tabloid scandals of the British royal family with salacious interest, but that's about as far as it goes.) We resist even using that word, "reign": our elected officials "serve" or "hold office."
Yet the Lord does reign, demanding our allegiance. Ancient Israel celebrated God's reign with an enthronement festival (which was in turn reminiscent of the vanquished gods of Mesopotamia, whom their worshipers ceremonially enthroned through cultic ritual). This psalm likely has its roots in such festivals, imported from foreign cultures.
Jerry Schmalenberger tells a story dating back to the time of the Nazi terror in Germany. In Wittenberg-Lutherstadt, a large statue of Christ stands in front of the Castle Church. Today, it is patched and repaired: for one Sunday afternoon long ago, a group of Nazi youth beat the statue to pieces with clubs. They painted the following words on a nearby fence: "The reign of Christ is over."
Later, a Christian youth group saw what had been done. They repaired the broken statue. Then, taking the same paintbrush and paint can the Hitler youth had used, they added three letters to the Nazi graffito: "a-l-l." It now read, "The reign of Christ is over all." (From Jerry Schmalenberger, Lectionary Preaching Workbook, Series VII, Cycle C [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing, 2003], p. 114.)
From time to time, the world may defiantly declare that the reign of God is ended. We know better.
-- C. W.
The brief Psalm 93 seems archaic, from the standpoint of our culture. The Lord is enthroned, here, as a cosmic king. The accoutrements of royalty are front and center: the robe of majesty, the girding-on of strength (suggesting a royal broadsword), the throne, the royal decree. Its message, loudly declared from the first verse onward, is simplicity itself: the Lord reigns!
Yet this one who reigns is like no ordinary king. The Lord rules over not only human affairs, but even the surging sea: the primeval waters, source of so many terrors for the Hebrew mind The turbulent waters of chaos bring no fear to the psalmist's heart, not this time. For God has tamed them, and God's providence continues to hold the floods at bay.
What does it mean to confess that the Lord reigns? Answering that question is hard, for in our secular democracy we have little experience of kings. They are an expensive luxury, long since discarded in favor of more utilitarian forms of government. (Some of us follow the latest tabloid scandals of the British royal family with salacious interest, but that's about as far as it goes.) We resist even using that word, "reign": our elected officials "serve" or "hold office."
Yet the Lord does reign, demanding our allegiance. Ancient Israel celebrated God's reign with an enthronement festival (which was in turn reminiscent of the vanquished gods of Mesopotamia, whom their worshipers ceremonially enthroned through cultic ritual). This psalm likely has its roots in such festivals, imported from foreign cultures.
Jerry Schmalenberger tells a story dating back to the time of the Nazi terror in Germany. In Wittenberg-Lutherstadt, a large statue of Christ stands in front of the Castle Church. Today, it is patched and repaired: for one Sunday afternoon long ago, a group of Nazi youth beat the statue to pieces with clubs. They painted the following words on a nearby fence: "The reign of Christ is over."
Later, a Christian youth group saw what had been done. They repaired the broken statue. Then, taking the same paintbrush and paint can the Hitler youth had used, they added three letters to the Nazi graffito: "a-l-l." It now read, "The reign of Christ is over all." (From Jerry Schmalenberger, Lectionary Preaching Workbook, Series VII, Cycle C [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing, 2003], p. 114.)
From time to time, the world may defiantly declare that the reign of God is ended. We know better.
-- C. W.
