Sermon for June 12th, 2022

Psalm 47:1-9

To the leader. Of the Korahites. A Psalm.

1 Clap your hands, all you peoples;
    shout to God with loud songs of joy.
2 For the Lord, the Most High, is awesome,
    a great king over all the earth.
3 He subdued peoples under us
    and nations under our feet.
4 He chose our heritage for us,
    the pride of Jacob whom he loves. Selah

5 God has gone up with a shout,
    the Lord with the sound of a trumpet.
6 Sing praises to God, sing praises;
    sing praises to our King, sing praises.
7 For God is the king of all the earth;
    sing praises with a psalm.

8 God is king over the nations;
    God sits on his holy throne.
9 The princes of the peoples gather
    as the people of the God of Abraham.
For the shields of the earth belong to God;
    he is highly exalted.

Psummer of Psalms - Psalm 47

Psalm 47:5 speaks of "going up with a shout." I'm reminded of the story about an airplane that was preparing for takeoff with a full load of passengers when the pilot and copilot came on board--both wearing dark sunglasses and tapping walking sticks for guidance. The passengers are understandably uncomfortable, but assume it must be some sort of practical joke, so they say nothing. As the plane begins to accelerate, the passengers see the end of the runway rapidly approaching, with certain doom awaiting at the end if the pilots really can't see what they're doing. Just before the end of the runway, all the passengers scream together--right before the plane lifts off. They're a little upset, but relieved that the pilots aren't really blind. Meanwhile, in the cockpit, the pilot turned to his copilot and remarked: "you know, Lou, one of these days they're not going to scream in time, and then we're gonna be in big trouble!"

Today is our first sermon in our annual Psummer of Psalms series. Some of you may remember that I like to begin the series with whatever Psalm happens to correspond to my age. A few weeks ago, I turned 47, so today we'll be talking about Psalm 47. By the way--If you've ever wanted to study the psalms more deeply, or even study the Bible more deeply, I highly recommend this practice: Each year, as you turn another year older, find the psalm that matches your age. You won't run out of Psalms until you turn 151. Make that Psalm your personal prayer for the year--read it on your birthday, print it out and tape it to your mirror, keep coming back to it throughout the year, and let God speak to you through the words, the rhythm, the images in the psalm.

Granted, this is a very slow way to study the Bible, but I think too often we rush through the psalms or other scripture passages and miss a lot of the nuance, the poetry that can only be appreciated through repetition and slow digestion. I think sometimes we also make the mistake, when we read the Bible or the Psalms, of sticking to the verses we like, or the ones that resonate with us. But if you pick the Psalm that matches your age--you might get lucky and find that it's an uplifting, inspirational psalm that will carry you through the next 365 days. But then sometimes, you'll get something like I did a few years ago on my 41st birthday:

"My enemies wonder in malice when I will die and my name perish. And when they come to see me, they utter empty words while their hearts gather mischief; when they go out, they tell it abroad. All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me."

Be careful not to think of your Birthday Psalm as a self-fulfilling prophecy. My 41st year was actually not all that bad. But there are many days, many seasons in a year, and the Psalms are a reflection of the entire breadth of human experience. John Calvin called the Psalms an anatomy of the human soul. There are prayers of exuberant joy, prayers of grief and sadness, prayers of deep reverence and wisdom--if you start studying and learning the Psalms, even just one per year, you will in time build a repertoire of prayer that you can draw from in any of life's situations.

Now on to Psalm 47. For starters, the inscription at the beginning of a Psalm (if there is one) is always worth paying attention to. We read that Psalm 47 is addressed "to the leader." Some translations render this as to the "chief musician" or the "director of music" but those are essentially guesses. We know that many of the psalms were intended to be chanted or sung in the worship of the ancient temple in Jerusalem, so it makes sense that someone would be in charge of that.

We read further that this Psalm is "of the Korahites." The Korahites, or (literally) the sons of Korah were a musical family in ancient Israel. Twelve of the Psalms are attributed to them, compared with 75 which are attributed to King David. And the last inscription simply reads "A Psalm" or in Hebrew, מִזְמוֹר (mizmor) which means "a melody."

There is no question that Psalm 47 was meant to be sung, and in a lively, upbeat kind of way. The opening lines even sound like instructions for the congregation: "Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of joy."

This is an important reminder that music, and singing, is something that EVERYONE is supposed to do in worship. Psalm 47 doesn't say, clap your hands and shout to God with loud songs of joy, but only if you're in the praise band, or only if you're in the choir. No, it says "all you people." Raise your hand if you're a person. Ok, that settles it. You're the ones who are supposed to sing.

"But pastor, I'm not a singer. You don't want me to sing--I can't carry a tune in a bucket!" That would probably be true if we were gathered here today for a concert. But we're not. Worship is not a performance, it's a gift that we offer to God (not to each other). If anyone has a problem with your voice, they can take it up with your creator...your job, your responsibility, is simply to sing, to sing loudly, and to sing with joy.

Why? That's verse two: For the Lord, the Most High, is awesome, a great king over all the earth. Now, I suppose that sometimes when you show up here on a Sunday morning, after a difficult week, after paying attention to world events, or even the many challenges of work, relationships, and life in general--you may not feel like God is that awesome, a great king over all the earth. There are plenty of psalms that reflect that kind of anguish, and sometimes we sing those, too.

But I think there's actually something to be said for singing God's songs aspirationally. Sometimes we sing the things we want to believe, the things we need to believe as an act of defiance, as a way of painting a better picture and reminding ourselves of the possibilities we believe in. Precisely when the world seems like it's falling apart, I need to know there is a God who is in control, who has the power to make things right. And when the person on my right and the person on my left are singing about that, it has the power to lift my focus, to lift my thoughts, and especially when I join them.