“...inquire in his
temple”
OT Lesson and Sermon
text: Psalm 27
NT Lesson: Colossians 3: 1-3
Dr. Matthew Brown
The Ireland’s Sunday School
class had the pleasure of reading the autobiographical story of Alex Thornburg
from his Junior High days in the Dallas suburb of Mesquite, Texas during the
mid - 1970s. “Alex was playing
junior-high football before a packed crowd (about a hundred or so). Alex loved football and he had a dream. This dream was to score a touchdown because
he knew if he did, his name would be announced over the PA system. “On the touchdown, number
thirteen, Alex Thornburg!”
Everyone in the stands would
know who he was and would cheer his great accomplishment. To hear his name over the PA System was to be recognized and considered special in the
eyes of all who witnessed this triumph.
The problem was that as a wide receiver, he never had the chance to
touch the football. In junior high, they
had trouble handing off, much less throwing the ball, so Alex was a glorified
blocker who would run out when the ball was hiked and try to get in someone’s
way. His dream of hearing his name
announced seemed destined never to happen.
Then came that fateful
afternoon when the quarterback in the huddle called for a reverse. For those less familiar with the arcane
language of football, a reverse is where the quarterback takes the ball and
runs toward one side of the field. The
receiver fakes upfield and then reverses his pattern
and begins to run toward the quarterback, whereupon the quarterback hands him
the ball. Hopefully the defense has been
fooled and chases the quarterback so that the receiver can then have a free
field in which to run.
Alex was beyond excited when
he heard the play called in the huddle and couldn’t even feel his legs as he
lined up on one side of the field. His
chance had come to accomplish his dream and hear over the PA system those magic
words, “On the touchdown, number thirteen, Alex Thornburg.” Everyone would know who he was. Alex tried to look nonchalant as he lined up
and the ball was hiked. He faked a step
forward and reversed his field and began running toward the quarterback who was
running toward him, and before he knew it the ball was in his hands.
It had worked! The defense was chasing the quarterback and
Alex had an open field with nothing in sight except the goal line. He could walk right in and score the
touchdown. His dream was at hand. He would be dancing in the end zone and soon
everyone would know who he was: “On the
touchdown, number thirteen, Alex Thornburg!”
The moment was incredible.
He planted his foot and
stepped upfield to enter his glory when . . . he dropped the ball. To this day, Alex does not know how he
dropped the ball, but he watched as it bounced across the field into the hands
of a rather surprised defensive player.
There would be no dancing, no recognition of his great triumph, no crowd
to know who he was. As he walked off the
field with his head down, though, he heard the PA crackle, “On the fumble,
number thirteen, Alex Thornburg.”
Everyone knew who he was.
O, the horror of public
humiliation.
Of course, in these days of
reality television, it seems that even humiliation is a more than acceptable
price to pay for the goal of celebrity.
It amazes me that as producers come up with ever more demeaning plots
specifically designed to bring out the worst characteristics of the show’s contestents, all across the country hordes of people are
lining up and actually auditioning for the chance to play the patsy, chasing
the dream of a few dollars and their fifteen minutes of ... you call it fame,
I’ll call it shame.
Could it be, call it hope,
but could it be that the recent rift between Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie, is a sign of the demise of reality television. I don’t hear the buzz I once did. One can hope.
Is the allure of celebrity,
of being known so strong that we’ll do anything to hold onto it, no matter how
embarrassing the events were that brought us into the public eye? I wouldn’t be surprised to see the recent
“runaway bride” showing up on Hollywood Squares.
What is behind this consuming
desire, this quest to be known? What is
incredibly ironic is the fact that we spend so much of our time ignoring the
One by whom we are known, who the psalmist says knew us fully while we were
still in our mother’s womb and knows our words before they even reach our lips.
My theology professor, John Leith, suggested that the fundamental human predicament is
that we are self-centered when we need to be God centered. Or as Augustine put it, “Restless are our
hearts, O Lord, until they find their rest in thee.”
While I doubt that many of
our members are lining up to audition for the latest reality show, there is
within each of us the desire to be recognized, to be known; and our psalm today
is the affirmation of one heart that has found it’s rest, it’s strength, it’s
hope in God, the One who recognizes, who knows us better than we know
ourselves.
“One thing I have asked of
the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all
the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his
temple.”
The great dean of church
educators is a person by the name of Parker Palmer and he wrote a book one time
entitled, To Know As We Are Known, and this title, I think echoes the thought
of the psalmist that the greatest adventure in life, the greatest affirmation
of life, the deepest meaning in life are to be discovered, not in the quest to
be known, but in the pursuit of knowing the One by whom we are known.
“One thing I have asked of
the Lord, that I will seek after; that I may dwell in
the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the
Lord, and to inquire in his temple.”
Psalm 27 is a prayer for help
that, unlike many prayers for help, begins with this extended confession of
trust. The psalmist affirms that God is
light; that God is salvation; that God is refuge for the psalmist, so much so
that the psalmist expresses that there is no reason to fear any human including
those who would slander you and even armies of foes who would besiege you.
Some of you may know the
title of a famous blues song, “Nobody loves me but my momma, and she may be lyin’ too.” Even
when momma forsakes you, the psalmist proclaims, God will take you up.
God is the protector and so
the best place to be, especially in the day of trouble, is in the sanctuary in
the presence of the Lord. “One thing I
have asked . . . that I may dwell in the house of the Lord . . . to inquire in
his temple. For he
will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble.”
Wow! The psalmist takes what we do here pretty
seriously. What role does the community
of faith play in your life? Do you share
the psalmist’s passion as you enter this place?
It is an appropriate question on this day that we witness our confirmation
classes professing their commitment to Christ and his church.
Over the years I’ve probably
heard as many excuses for not being in church as I’ve heard reasons for being
in church. “I had ball practice.” “I wanted to get an early start on that drive
to
Years ago, I remember a
Sunday school teacher saying, “We need a material that will allow someone to
come and not feel as though they missed something.” I don’t know, but I would hope to think that
when someone foregoes the experiences of the church, they are missing
something.
I am awed by the level of
activity I see in the people of
In the psalm today, the
psalmist is in trouble. It is a prayer
of help. But it is a confident prayer
born of a relationship of trust that, by the power of God’s Holy Spirit, finds
it’s meaning in worship, in Sunday School, in the
prayer group, in the Bible.
There is something about what
we do together in this place, there is something experienced by those seeking
together to “know as we are known.”
James Luther Mays says,
“Trust is nurtured and strengthened by the exercise and discipline of
religion. In his time of trouble the
psalmist asks one thing: to be in the
temple, where he can visualize the beauty of the Lord and seek the direction
for his life that comes with the instruction given there...” To those who so commonly say they don’t need
religion or the church to feel close to God, Mays says, “When trust is kept a
private matter, unspoken and unshared, it becomes a personal project and may
decay into no more than our own resolution and willpower.
Trust needs the stimulus and
renewal that come from confronting and contemplating religion’s representation of the revelation of God in liturgy,
architecture, and proclamation.
What is he saying? He’s saying that what we do here means
something to those seeking to know as they are known. Their experience in this place gives them the
confidence, even in their most desperate hour, that our God knows us and our
God acts in our lives. They feel that
when they are not here, they are missing something.
You may have heard before the
powerful story Fred Craddock tells about a trip to a church where he was to lead
a series of special worship services.
When he pulled into the parking lot of the church, a funeral was
concluding. People were moving to their automobiles; the hearse was still
there. Craddock says, “The minister saw
me, recognized me, and motioned for me to come over. I didn’t want to intrude; I was just waiting
until it was over. He was standing next
to the widow. He introduced her, he
introduced me, and I felt awkward. I
said to her, ‘This is no time for you to be meeting strangers. I’m sorry and I’m really sorry about your
loss.’ Her husband had been killed in a
car wreck and left her with four children.
I said, ‘I know this is a very difficult time for you.’
She said, ‘It is. So I won’t be at the services tonight, but
I’ll be there tomorrow night, and I’ll be there Sunday morning.’
I said, ‘Oh, you don’t need
to.’
She said, ‘Yes I do.’
I said, ‘Well, what I meant
was, I know it’s a very hard time.’
And she said, ‘I know it’s
hard. It’s already hard, but you see,
this is my church, and they’re going to see that my children and I are okay.’”
“One thing I have asked of
the Lord, that I will seek after; that I may dwell in
the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the
Lord, and to inquire in his temple. . . For he will hide me
in his shelter in the day of trouble.” “The
Lord is the stronghold of my life.”
Amen.
##