Sermon for June 3rd, 2023

Psalm 48:1-14

A Song. A Psalm of the Korahites.

1 Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised in the city of our God.
    His holy mountain, 2 beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth,
    Mount Zion, in the far north, the city of the great King.
3 Within its citadels God has shown himself a sure defense.

4 Then the kings assembled; they came on together.
5 As soon as they saw it, they were astounded;
    they were in panic; they took to flight;
6 trembling took hold of them there, pains as of a woman in labor,
7 as when an east wind shatters the ships of Tarshish.

8 As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of the Lord of hosts, 
    in the city of our God, which God establishes forever. Selah

9 We ponder your steadfast love, O God, in the midst of your temple.
10 Your name, O God, like your praise, reaches to the ends of the earth.
     Your right hand is filled with victory. 11 Let Mount Zion be glad; 
     let the towns of Judah rejoice because of your judgments.

12 Walk about Zion; go all around it; count its towers; 
13 consider well its ramparts; go through its citadels, 
     that you may tell the next generation 14 that this is God, 
     our God forever and ever. He will be our guide forever.

Psummer of Psalms: Psalm 48

It was graduation day at a certain notorious high school in El Paso, Texas (take your pick--whichever one you didn't go to!). Everyone was excited as the students began to walk across the stage. But when Bubba's turn came, the principal stopped him and said, "Bubba--I'm afraid you didn't get enough credits to graduate. I can't give you your diploma." Seeing the disappointment on Bubba's face, the crowd yelled out, "Let him graduate! Let him graduate!" and the Principal, caught between a rock and hard place, finally relented and said, "Ok--if Bubba can answer this one question, I'll let him graduate. Bubba--can you tell me what two plus two equals?" Bubba began to sweat. He counted on his fingers, then he sat down, took off his shoes and socks and counted on his toes. Eventually he stood up again and with a puzzled look on his face, he said, "Ummm...is it...four?" At that moment, the entire graduating class jumped to their feet and in a loud voice they all began to shout, "Give him another chance! Give him another chance!"

That joke has absolutely nothing to do with Psalm 48, but we are recognizing our graduating seniors later today in the service! Exactly thirty years ago this month, I graduated from high school here in El Paso, and in the fall I started college in Tulsa, Oklahoma. One of the things I missed most about El Paso, surprisingly, was the Franklin mountains. I learned to drive here in El Paso, and it was almost impossible to get lost. Wherever you went, you could just look up at the mountain, and pretty much tell exactly where in the city you were. Tulsa, on the other hand, was completely flat. No frame of reference, no guiding compass, and so pretty easy to get lost.

In that way, I feel like I can identify with the author of Psalm 48, who is (according to the inscription at the beginning) one of the sons of Korah, a family that contributed 11 songs in total to the Book of Psalms. He begins his song by praising his God, and praising the mountain in his hometown of Jerusalem: "beautiful in elevation, the joy of all the earth." This is mount Zion, the home of the Temple, the first and foremost center of Jewish worship in the Old Testament.

If you're a Presbyterian in El Paso, you have a few different churches to choose from, but we were certainly the first--and I like to think we're the "foremost," located right at the very tip of the mountain. And since the Franklin mountains form the tail end of the Rocky Mountains, you might even say that the mightiest mountains in America all point to our sacred city, our beloved place of worship, our First Presbyterian Church. So yes, I can identify with the author of Psalm 48.

He goes on, in verse 4, to share a story about a time when several enemy kings came to besiege the city and its temple. They didn't get very far--at the very sight of the mountain and the city they panicked; they ran away in fright. In the history books of the Old Testament, there are a few different episodes this could refer to--although no one really knows for sure. The point of the Psalmist is simply that God protects his city, his mountain, his people.

That is, until he doesn't. In his effusive praise for Jerusalem, the Temple, and Mount Zion, how could the Psalmist possibly imagine that in the 6th century BC, the Babylonian army would breach the walls of Jerusalem, destroy the temple, and kill or enslave most of the city's inhabitants. I imagine that the descendants of the Psalmist--perhaps the great great grandchildren of Korah, read verse 8 of this psalm with a touch of bitter irony:

"As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of the Lord of hosts, in the city of our God, which God establishes forever. Selah." (No one really knows what the word Selah means, although it appears frequently in the Psalms). But the word עוֹלָם (olam), translated here as forever, is pretty clear in its meaning: It means permanently, perpetually, without end. And yet, the temple in Jerusalem--the dwelling place of God!--came to an end.

But even when Jerusalem was lost, when the children of Israel were in captivity, far away from their holy mountain, they didn't abandon their God, although he seemed (at least on the surface) to have abandoned them. In time, the Israelites were allowed to return to Mount Zion, to rebuild the city walls, and the temple. And once again, they could (in the words of verse 9) "ponder your steadfast love, O God, in the midst of your temple." Once again, "the towns of Judah" might "rejoice because of your judgments."

Of course, that temple didn't last forever, either. The second temple (and most of Jerusalem) was again destroyed in the year 70AD, this time by the Roman Empire. The Jews were once again forced into exile. But a few of them--those who had followed a Jewish Rabbi called Jesus of Nazareth, remembered a prediction he had made almost 40 years before. Looking at the temple, he said "destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up again." Of course, he was talking about his own body, not the temple made of wood and stone.

But here--I believe for Jews and early Christians alike--here began a shift, a change, a new idea: God's presence had never really been limited to the stone walls of the temple, to the ark of the covenant, or even to the towers and buildings of Jerusalem. The reason God was there at all is simply this: God inhabits the praises of his people. Whenever we call upon his name in prayer, wherever we sing his songs, study his word, and proclaim his love--that's where God loves to be. He does not abandon us, but rather goes with us, when we go into exile, or away to college, or when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

And yet, those sacred places--our temples, our synagogues, our churches and cathedrals--they are important. They are beautiful, and the best ones (like this one, I believe) tell God's story with every brick, every window, every beam.

Psalm 48 says we should "walk about Zion" (our sacred places, while we have them); we should "go all around it; count its towers; consider well its ramparts; go through its citadels." Why? Pay close attention to the ending in verse 13. It's not so the building may continue indefinitely to testify of God's presence. Because buildings--even this one--eventually fall, and their stones lie mostly forgotten. Psalm 48 says that you (and especially you who are about to strike out into new cities and new adventures) should walk through and take stock of your sacred places so "that YOU may tell the next generation that THIS (and this...and this...and this) is God...OUR God, our guide, forever and forever.