Dartmouth College Chapel
March 29, 2006
Richard R. Crocker, College Chaplain
Psalm 103
I suspect that many of you know that I have been quite ill for the last few
months, which explains my rather odd appearance now. I do not intend, in the
chapel services this term, to dwell on my illness, from which I believe that I
am making an excellent recovery, but, at the same time, I can hardly ignore
what has happened to me, and the reflections having cancer has caused. As a way
of anchoring my personal experience in the universal experience of faith, I
have chosen, this spring term, to talk about the psalms. As you may know, there
are 150 psalms in the Hebrew/Christian bible. At the beginning of my illness,
when the doctor told me that I would be receiving treatment for several months,
I resolved to read and think about one psalm each day, as a way of keeping
track of the days and numbering them, and also as a way to read through the
psalms in the hope of deriving strength from them in a time of need.
What I discovered in reading the psalms straight through over more than 150
days was that the number of psalms that are liturgically useful in their
entirety is small. Most of the psalms contain verses that are so difficult that
we routinely ignore them. In other words, the psalms are not uniformly
comforting; indeed, most of them are problematic - even for a person determined
to find comfort.
A few of them, however, are simply splendid. Psalm 103 is one of the
splendid ones, and I would like to use it to begin this series. Since we have
only ten services this term, you will get only a sampling of the psalms, and of
course I will probably select only psalms that appear especially useful to me.
To find the others, you will have to read through the book yourself.
But when a book contains such wonderful poetry as psalm 103, or 23, or 100,
or 46 or 121 - and if we know only those psalms from hearing them in worship
over and over, we may be forgiven for thinking that the whole book is just like
them.
Psalm 103 is a psalm of thankfulness. It thanks God for healing, for
forgiveness of sin, for justice and compassion in the world. It acknowledges
that human beings are mortal, while God's love is everlasting. These themes
both comfort and challenge us in almost all situations. If there is any one
psalm that the heart can return to time and again, it is this one. Let me
simply identify two or three parts of the psalm that have been especially
meaningful to me and that may be to you.
"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all God's benefits - who
forgives all your sin, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from
the Pit ..." It is impossible to know the power of these words if you have
never known forgiveness; and it is impossible to know forgiveness if you have
never known what it is to sin. It is impossible to know the power of these
words if you have never known healing, and it is impossible to know healing if
you have never known illness. It is impossible to know the power of these words
if you have never known what it is to stare into the bottomless pit of despair,
and it is impossible to stare into the pit if you are constantly distracted
with illusions.
I really do not know what your experience is. Many people are haunted by
guilt; others are not. Some of you perhaps have been very ill, or have had
loved ones who have been very ill, and some of you perhaps have not. The
experience of illness is, or will be, universal. Healing is a mercy that comes
to us as commonly as day-break. We take it for granted, until it seems that the
sun will not rise, that we will not see it again. In those extreme situations,
some of us die, and others are given new life. In such a time, we know that
healing comes to us as a gift - and sometimes death does too. When we are
healed, we can only be thankful. If we are not healed, or if we die, we face
the third peril - staring into the Pit - the abyss of nothingness.
The Hebrew poets who wrote the psalms, including some written perhaps by
King David himself, did not have a firm idea of life beyond the grave.
There was no well-developed idea of heaven. Judaism still says less about the
after-life than Christianity does, and although resurrection is central in
Christianity, resurrection is described mainly as mystery. What both faiths
affirm is that we live and we die in God. We come to life in the great mystery
of God, and we depart this life in the great mystery of God. So yes, we are
mortal, but we also can trust our Creator. This psalm ends by affirming that we
are in fact mortal, but God's love is everlasting: "As for mortals, their
days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field; for the wind
passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the
steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear
him...."
Mortality and eternal life. Sin and forgiveness. Sickness and healing. These
are profound themes for us to think about, especially in Lent, but really
always. I do not know how often you think about them. It is easy, if we are
great achievers, if we are busy, healthy, active, wealthy, and beautiful, not
to think about these great themes. But we can not always avoid them. And when
we think about them, our hearts cry out for strength.
I think of Leo Tolstoy. In his short book, his short personal book called A
Confession, he recounted the various things that occupied him and gave his life
an unsatisfactory meaning in his youth. He showed how he came to see that faith
is necessary for life. We can not live, he says, without faith. Faith is what
enables us to live, even if we are not especially aware of it. While people of
wealth in the world can rely upon their wealth or beauty or power to give them
meaning for a while, Tolstoy learned from Russian peasants that a simple faith
in God was what sustained their lives. He closed the book by talking about a
dream, a nightmare really, that he had - when he felt himself suspended over a
bottomless pit, in a hammock that was not firmly supported, that could fall
into the pit any moment. He awoke to find that being suspended over the pit was
a metaphor for life, and that only faith, in the end, holds us up.
I will share, each week this term, some thoughts on a psalm. We will also
sing the psalm and read it. My hope is that these psalms, and this brief time
of worship each week, will sink into your consciousness and provide help for
you in times of trouble, and praise in times of thankfulness. May your faith
grow and become strong. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within
me, bless God's holy name. Amen.
copyright © 2006 Richard R. Crocker
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