Thanksgiving Day
Preaching
Hear My Voice
Preaching The Lectionary Psalms for Cycles A, B, C
Object:
This brief psalm is among the most familiar in the psalter, but that is primarily because its verses have been excerpted in so many hymns and liturgical texts. There is something to be gained from looking at Psalm 100 in its entirety, and trying to recover its ancient liturgical context.
Psalm 100 is a hymn of approach. Very likely it was sung by pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem, both as they drew near to the holy city and as they actually entered the temple precincts. We can easily imagine those ancient worshipers coming into the Lord's presence "with singing," entering first the gates and then each of the temple courts in succession. As they do so, songs of praise and thanksgiving like this one tumble from their lips.
There is something about the act of worship that puts these pilgrims' lives in proper perspective. They know who God is: eternal and self-evident -- "Know that the Lord is God." This is an exclusive claim: Yahweh is the one, true God. It is a very different sort of declaration than the one many Christians are inclined to make today. According to James Luther Mays:
In Israel's day the question was not, "Is there a god?" but "Who is god?" In a profound though culturally different way, that is still the real question. Human beings are intrinsically polytheistic. (Psalms, in the Interpretation series [Louisville: John Knox Press, 1994], p. 319.)
Human beings today are polytheistic not in the traditional sense of worshiping a pantheon of deities, but rather in adoring all sorts of lesser idols: money, fame, power, and all the rest.
Psalm 100 overflows with exuberant joy. Perhaps more than any other of the 150 psalms, this one captures the joyous spirit of worship. Perhaps we can use it as a sort of standard, to see how our worship measures up.
Joy surprises. It's unexpected. Joy steals upon us when we are not seeking it, when we're going about other business. "Our brightest blazes of gladness," writes Samuel Johnson, "are sometimes kindled by unexpected sparks." Joy is also different from the pleasure that our culture seeks with such desperate, plodding intensity. In the words of C. S. Lewis, "Joy is never within our power, but pleasure often is." Art historian, Sister Wendy Becket, in one of her popular BBC television documentaries on great paintings, observed:
Joy is not a constant condition. Most people manage a settled cheerfulness, but this -- no matter how admirable -- has nothing to do with joy, which flashes suddenly on our darkness. Like the light in an El Greco painting, joy does not merely illuminate the landscape. It transforms it.
The worshipers on their way to the temple in Jerusalem sing as though they were people being transformed -- which, in a very real sense, they are.
-- C. W.
Psalm 100 is a hymn of approach. Very likely it was sung by pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem, both as they drew near to the holy city and as they actually entered the temple precincts. We can easily imagine those ancient worshipers coming into the Lord's presence "with singing," entering first the gates and then each of the temple courts in succession. As they do so, songs of praise and thanksgiving like this one tumble from their lips.
There is something about the act of worship that puts these pilgrims' lives in proper perspective. They know who God is: eternal and self-evident -- "Know that the Lord is God." This is an exclusive claim: Yahweh is the one, true God. It is a very different sort of declaration than the one many Christians are inclined to make today. According to James Luther Mays:
In Israel's day the question was not, "Is there a god?" but "Who is god?" In a profound though culturally different way, that is still the real question. Human beings are intrinsically polytheistic. (Psalms, in the Interpretation series [Louisville: John Knox Press, 1994], p. 319.)
Human beings today are polytheistic not in the traditional sense of worshiping a pantheon of deities, but rather in adoring all sorts of lesser idols: money, fame, power, and all the rest.
Psalm 100 overflows with exuberant joy. Perhaps more than any other of the 150 psalms, this one captures the joyous spirit of worship. Perhaps we can use it as a sort of standard, to see how our worship measures up.
Joy surprises. It's unexpected. Joy steals upon us when we are not seeking it, when we're going about other business. "Our brightest blazes of gladness," writes Samuel Johnson, "are sometimes kindled by unexpected sparks." Joy is also different from the pleasure that our culture seeks with such desperate, plodding intensity. In the words of C. S. Lewis, "Joy is never within our power, but pleasure often is." Art historian, Sister Wendy Becket, in one of her popular BBC television documentaries on great paintings, observed:
Joy is not a constant condition. Most people manage a settled cheerfulness, but this -- no matter how admirable -- has nothing to do with joy, which flashes suddenly on our darkness. Like the light in an El Greco painting, joy does not merely illuminate the landscape. It transforms it.
The worshipers on their way to the temple in Jerusalem sing as though they were people being transformed -- which, in a very real sense, they are.
-- C. W.
