Psalm 119
Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 18:15-20
The day after tomorrow is the day,
the day when students across the country will be returning to school. From
pre-school to grad school, learners will be engaged in a variety of subject
matter. But regardless of whether they are stepping into a kindergarten class
or their first medical school class, these students will have one thing in
common—they will have before them
the task of learning. Some will want to learn eagerly; others not so
eagerly. There are a few educators
in this congregation--who teach at a variety of levels--and I am sure they
could attest to the motivated and not so motivated students they have
encountered.
Today
we have read responsively together a portion of Psalm 119, the longest Psalm in
the Psalter—the book of Psalms.
But even in the eight lines we heard, we have encountered what all
teachers desire in the depth of their hearts—an eager and motivated learner. In
fact, the first words we hear in line 33, are music to the ears of any
instructor, “ Teach me”.
“Teach
me.” Those two words are powerful and affirmative. For those two words affirm
the students desire to be taught and his or her confidence in the teacher’s
ability to do the teaching. Those words are music to the ears of any teacher,
because the hardest student to teach is the one who does not want to be taught.
But the
Psalmist is an eager student, and an ambitious one. For he seeks instruction not from any teacher,
but the ultimate teacher—the divine teacher. And the psalmist isn’t asking
meekly for God to teach him something. He is emphatically stating that he wants
to be taught. In fact he is demanding instruction from God.
“ Teach Me
O Lord!” is his cry to heaven.
Yes he is
demanding to be taught something, but not just anything.
Yes, we have many important things to learn in school, but the Psalmist
is not asking God for a trigonometry lesson. He is asking God for something far
more important. He is asking for something fundamental, something foundational.
What is he asking for? What he is asking for is the knowledge every
single human being hungers for in
the depth of their being. The Psalmist wants to know the way—not just any
way—but the way. He wants to know how to live his life. He wants to know
by what standard he should judge his actions. He wants to know what to move
toward ; what to move away from.
And he
doesn’t just want to know about the way, but desires an intimate connection to
the way. And this isn’t an intellectual pursuit, just a matter of the head. It
goes way deeper than that—to the very depth of the Psalmist’s heart. From there
he cries to the Lord: Teach me!
The
Psalmist knows what is at stake. He knows that there is a right way and a wrong
way. .The Psalmist knows that within him, there is a temptation to be led down
the garden path, down the wrong avenue-and that he would be all too delighted
to go sauntering down it.
He knows
where his eyes naturally want to look, and the direction to which his heart is
naturally inclined. He knows this and boldly asks God to steer him in the right
direction—to guide him in the way. Not just show
him the way, but actually move him along the way. The Psalmist
knows where the truth lies—and he prays to be formed by and in that truth. In
seeking God’s instruction, he isn’t asking in some detached way:” Listen, Lord,
I need some guidance, would you mind lending me your instruction manual for a
while.” No. the Psalmist pleads to God—pleads for God’s compassion and guidance.
And he is asking with boldness. In fact, he isn’t even asking. He is telling
God: “Fulfill your promise to your servant.”
And
that promise is the promise God first made to Abraham the desert nomad so many
years before—and that is the promise of God’s blessing, God’s everlasting
blessing. The psalmist lived many
years before the birth of Christ. He would not have known the specifics of what
was going to happen. But he knew that God had made a promise to his ancestors,
and that this promise was for him—that God was going to do something great, and
that this great thing was on the horizon. So the Pslamist shouts from the depth
of his soul up into heaven: “Remember your promise to your servant!”
And that
promise would be fulfilled. God would answer the Psalmists plea for the
fulfillment of that promise and the demand for Godly teaching.. The divine
instructor would arrive. God himself would arrive on the scene, and in the most
unexpected way possible—in the person of a first century Galilean Jew. He would
arrive to be our teacher, would show us the way—show us what it really means to
be human. But while he taught and
instructed his verbal teaching was always intimately connected to merciful and compassionate action—to
healing, to feeding, to restoring the dead to life. And then there was the ultimate act of mercy and compassion. Jesus
would endure the cross for us and for the world, to complete the greatest
rescue mission of all time. and through that great act of compassion and mercy,
reveal to us the heart of God, show us what living a life as a human being in the image of God means. God would
show us the way through his mercy, show us the way the Psalmist longed for in
the depth of his soul.
The
Psalmist may not have named Christ, but that is the teacher he longed to be
taught and guided by. He may not have known that God was going to come into the
world the way he did, but he knew about his promised coming—and he grabbed hold
of that promise with all of his might.
Unlike this
Psalmist—an Israelite who lived many years before Jesus Christ came into the
world as a human being—we have the
benefit of knowing that the Messiah has come, that the promise has been
fulfilled, that God’s Grace, mercy and compassion have been showered upon all
people. And where that mercy and compassion is embraced, a whole new life is
made possible, a new way of being is effected. It does not come about on the
basis of anything we have done, or thought, or learned, or the choices we have made, but by
everything God has done through Jesus.
But
like the Psalmist we live in a difficult world where hard choices present
themselves; where difficult decisions have to be made, where good instruction
is longed for, and wisdom, is desired.
The
school year is beginning and there is much learning to be done, and lessons
will be learnt—by students and teachers alike. But human hearts continue to cry
out for that fundamental teacher. But unlike human teachers who instruct
students how to arrive at correct answers, Christ—who is God for us—is the
answer. And we benefit from his
teaching not by, first trying to imitate him, but by acknowledging what he has
done for us, by acknowledging our need for Him, by embracing him, and putting
Him on like a coat of armour. Putting on Christ means Living in the reality of
what he has done for us. He has given us everything.
And
when Christ is put on, we don’t just learn from our master, we actually see the
world through his eyes. And when
we look at the world through his eyes we look at the world through the lens of
love, through the lens which allows us to view our neighbours as
ourselves. When we put on Christ
we are called to a life of new obedience, a new obedience which will often be
counter-cultural, which will cut against the grain of business as usual.
Yes, in this
lifetime that vision will not be perfect. There is still that tug and pull from
another direction—that same direction which the Psalmist so desperately wanted
to avoid. But we are and will not
be alone as we move through our journey. The greatest teacher of all time will
guide us in our way as he has promised to do, and we will continue to be formed
in his image.
For
the compassion of God through Christ is not just some historical event, or
theological idea. Christ is compassionately present with us. In fact, he is
here with us today.
He
promised to be with us. He promised to be where two or three are gathered in
his name. Christ promises to be there, even amidst conflict. In today’s gospel lesson
Jesus instructs his disciples on how to handle disputes within the church. He
describes steps to be taken in disagreement. Too often these have been
interpreted as the steps one takes to get someone kicked out of a church--excommunicated.
In fact, these steps are loving
measures intended to restore fellowship between people. When we read Jesus
instructing his disciples to treat the outcast as a “Gentile and Tax
Collector”, we might be taken back at the exclusionary tone. But remember. How did Jesus treat Gentiles and Tax
Collectors?—with compassion, with love, the same kind of love which Paul
encourages the Roman Christians to build their lives from. The same kind of
love we are called to; the same love we are formed in; the same love which the
Psalmist demanded from God—and God
delivered, delivered himself in the form of his Son, so that all people could
have eternal life, and be delivered from Sin and death.
But
remember: Christ has done more than teach us. He has done it all for us. So let
us rest in him, put him on, and step out into the world proclaiming his love
and compassion. Let us learn from him, and grow in him. Let us pray for his
guidance. Let those who have been baptized into Christ daily live in their
baptism, washed in the waters of God’s forgiveness. Let us be nourished at
God’s meal of holy communion, where spiritual nourishment is found. And let us
forever trust in he who gave
himself for us—Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour. Amen.
