Second Sunday in Lent (Psalm 121)  03/20/2011

Several weeks ago, the rising protests in many countries of the Middle East and North Africa captured our attention; and our attention deserves to remain focused on these important events because the results of these protests will shape world history for many years to come. The protests of the people, although surprising in their rapid escalation, were not altogether surprising after years of suffering from poverty and many forms of government abuses. Farther to the East, well beyond this region of political turmoil, we have recently seen events unfolding in Japan that the word “surprising” does not do justice to describe the situation. The earthquake, tsunami, fires, nuclear accidents, and the biting chill of winter weather have all visited destruction upon the people of Japan so completely that the human language is unable to adequately capture the scene. Archbishop Nathaniel Uematsu, Anglican Primate of Japan, recently made this observation in a letter he released: the Archbishop wrote, “The stories and images constantly broadcast by the media have left people lost for words, unable to describe the sheer scale of the unbelievable destruction caused by the earthquake, tsunami, and fires.”[i] As I read the Archbishop’s letter and watched the dramatic images of the events unfolding in Northern Japan throughout this past week, I was reminded of the story of Job, one of the earliest biblical stories of complete and unexplainable loss. Job was an upright man and he and his family enjoyed a very good life, but the story quickly turns and is life is radically changed after he loses his family and all that he owns. Job suffered unimaginable loss and hardship; loss that compelled his friends to gather around him during his time of need: Job’s friends “met together to go and console and comfort him. When they saw Job from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads. They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.” (Job 2:11b-13) In these stories (the story of Job and the unfolding story of the Japanese people), we hear of loss and despair so complete that words cannot express the depth of our emotions. We are left to wonder and join the Psalmist in asking the question we hear this morning, “I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come?” (Psalm 121:1)

Psalm 121 is one of fifteen psalms that, together, are called the Songs of Ascents. Psalms 120 – 134 were believed to have been sung by Jewish pilgrims as they traveled to the Temple in Jerusalem to attend the three religious festivals of the year. These psalms are also referred to as the Pilgrim Psalms for this reason. The road to Jerusalem was not always an easy journey; hardships and sufferings were not uncommon. People alien to the Jewish community often stood ready to deceive the pilgrims along the road and thieves could be found around many corners, waiting to take away what little the pilgrims possessed. As they traveled to Jerusalem to worship the LORD and fulfill their religious commitments to God, they raised their voices in song, “I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come?”

The pilgrims’ question, their uncertainty in times of trouble, was not simply a rhetorical question; the question posed in the first verse of Psalm 121 expressed their desire to call on the LORD in their time of need. And the second verse responded to the question with an assurance that the LORD was in the midst of them, in the middle of all that was happening to them. “My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:2) The message of the psalm, in its entirety, is an assurance that the LORD always watches over his children, even when they are traveling the dangerous pilgrim road. And their assurance is our assurance as we travel the pilgrim road of Lent and the pilgrim road of life. Throughout our lives we will encounter days of great joy and happiness, but surely we will also confront the empty sadness and despair that waits along the pilgrim road. The LORD is not to be found only in the joy, but in the joy and the sadness; the LORD is to be found in life and in death; and the LORD is especially found in the moments of life that are so profound that the human language fails to even approach a reasonable expression of our experience.

After I graduated from college (many years ago), I joined the Navy’s Nuclear Submarine Force and learned the operating details of nuclear reactors; so I understand the technical problems of the Japanese reactor plants as it has been reported in the news. Just prior to attending seminary, I worked very closely with many people in Japan for several years; so I understand the people and the culture of Japan. However, I do not understand and cannot understand the magnitude of human loss and human need that is present in Japan on this day and in the days ahead. I recently wrote to a few of my friends in Japan, expressing my concern for them and their families. I told them that they are all in our thoughts and prayers and that we stand ready to help them in any way that is needed. I received a note from one of my friends – she and her family are all OK because they live south of Tokyo where very little damage was done. But she attended college in northern Japan and she told me of her wonderful experience there, particularly because the people in that region “have a beautiful nature and are a warm hearted people.” She assured me that “she and all of the Japanese [people] are thinking of what they can do for the affected people and are making actions to help. You will be surprised (she told me) how we are calm and nobody is in panic. We are feeling prayers from you and [from] people over [all] the world.” There will be many difficult days ahead for the people of Japan, but I trust my friend is correct when she says that they are diligently making plans to take action and that they can feel the prayers from people over all the world. In times of great joy and in times of great difficulty, “our help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.” Throughout this season of Lent, as we travel the pilgrim road together in our journey toward the glorious day of Easter, take time to be with God and to be with each other in prayerful communion, and know that “the LORD shall watch over you, from this time forth for evermore.” (Psalm 121:8)  AMEN.