Psalm 27:1-8
The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be
afraid? 2 When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh— my adversaries and foes— they shall stumble and fall. 3 Though
an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident. 4 One thing I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: to live 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. 5 For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. 6Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the LORD. 7 Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! 8 “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, LORD, do I seek.
Matthew 6:1-4
“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. 2 “So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
Psalm 27 is one of the lectionary texts for today and I was deeply struck by the language this week, as we continue to watch the unfolding horror of the atrocities being foisted on the innocent people of the Ukraine.
Pew Research points out that roughly only half of the Ukraine actively identifies as religious. Forty-four percent claim that they are Eastern Orthodox; smaller percentages of both Roman Catholic and Muslim faith. The other 40% do not identify as religious but I've been pondering how much of the entire population of Ukraine is probably deeply in prayer, (whether they see themselves as religious or not) likely using at least sentiments of Psalm 27, while their homes, their churches, their mosques, their stores, schools and hospitals are under attack and/or in imminent danger, as well as their very lives. Verses one through three, in particular I think, reflect the values and leadership of President Zelensky for the people of Ukraine, and I pray that we all can proclaim confidence and hope and protection by God while living in not only an unknown future, but an uncertain present.
This psalm is giving voice to the deepest yearning to dwell in the house of the Lord forever. And, although there may be some literal desire to get in, and remain in, the Jerusalem temple, the psalmist is more likely expressing the hope of anticipating the dwelling in God's presence in eternity, in this life and in the next. May it be so for our brothers and sisters in the Ukraine.
So, what does giving alms in the Matthew text have to do with Psalm 27 (besides the fact that it's part of our Lenten theme?) Well, I think there's a nice tie-in. The psalmist’s language and his theology is one of complete trust and confidence in God's protection, even while enemies threaten the psalmist. He also has pure dedication to God, even while enemies threaten the psalmist, while being encircled by trouble. Verse 6 reads, “Now my head is lifted up above my enemies and all around me and I will offer in his tent sacrifices of shouts of joy.” This is the purest form of worship and sacrifice in the midst of crisis. And, yet, very few of us have the temerity to be able to do that. More likely it is, “Help me, Lord. Save me from what is about to happen from persecution, from threats of death or just evil surrounding me.”
But Jesus’ Matthew is showing us a different side of ourselves that needs some refining and reorientation and self-reflection. While you may be relieved to know that neither of these examples in Matthew 6 are literal, we're not going to sound trumpets every time we put money in the offering plate. (Trumpet flare from the organ) Wouldn't that be nice? Or maybe it only happens when your contribution is more than a hundred dollars, and when you give a hundred dollars you hear this… (Longer trumpet flare from the organ). But if it's below a hundred dollars, you hear this… (Sad trumpet sound from the organ). What happens if you give nothing? (Silence from the organ).
The other metaphor Jesus uses in this text is…“the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing”. That's physically impossible, but Jesus wants us to understand that nothing is secretive from God. So even if we're putting that money in the offering plate, even if we're giving alms, if our heart is not right, then the offering doesn't really matter. We can act and think when we are trying to show God how much we care. But if the audience is anybody else other than God, then we have a mixed intention. I'm not suggesting that we are necessarily seeking to be duplicitous or manipulative. We generally don't pre-plan to get the attention of others. The problem is that the human need for approval drives us to do things that, in retrospect, we're usually not entirely proud of.
As a whole, I think we are a very generous and compassionate people, eager to help those in need and support the vehicle (meaning the church) that promulgates the Gospel. But let's also admit, friends, that our egos are insatiable for attention and lauds, especially when we go above and beyond. We really want that pat on the back where someone says, “Wow, I saw what you did and that was really remarkable! Well done!”
In these short verses Jesus is calling us, not necessarily to be quiet about how much we give, but why we are giving and whose benefit it's for. Especially in this Lenten time, Jesus is asking us, where is our heart? Is it conflicted? Does one hand give the offering while the other hand is clinched, desperately holding on to the rest? Are we secretly hoping that we'll be acknowledged or rewarded for something that we thought was spectacular and over and above? Or are we driven solely by the response to be engaged and carry out God's will?
I was saying to a friend recently that throughout my life, when I have done things that I have been ‘rather proud of’ somehow they don’t get noticed or mentioned. And it's happened not once, but many, many, many times. And I think God is finally saying to me, “Jen, I see what you're doing. No one else cares and that's okay.”
Just recently I put together a gift for someone who was well deserving of a gift and acknowledgement. And no one else in the group had thought of it. And it got it accomplished. I really wanted that person to know that I'm the one that did it. And I'm secretly hoping that someone else is going to tell her that I'm the one that did it. Now, is that going to help anything? Is it going to make her gift greater? Is it going to make her feel more loved--that I care about her more than other people? No, it's going to make her feel worse that the rest of the group didn't think of it.
Friends, it's really interesting that the word hypocrite in Greek means stage actors—"those who perform religious acts with an eye on the human grandstanding versus having an authentic piety”. The passage is a declaration that God responds in mercy to the faithful--those who do God's will… solely to do God's will. The fulfillment, friends, does not come from the temporary, shallow pats on the back and the spotlight from our human counterparts; but from authentic engagement in the ongoing purposes of God. That's the point of being interested in giving alms and fasting and praying during Lent.
If we drill down a little deeper into giving alms, it's so that we give of ourselves. Do we do that because we feel really good if we make an increase to the church or is it a response, because God is tapping us on the shoulder and saying, “It's time to dig a little deeper”? We love to lift up those who cannot lift themselves up. But is it because we want to feel good about ourselves or because God is seeing that someone is hurting and needs our help? I think, in short, Matthew 6 is saying, “Before you consider your gift, and even your praises, check your ego at the door.”
Henri Nouwen, who I've been talking about a lot wrote a devotion in one of his journals that became of book of prayers called “ Prayers from the Genesee” writes:
How often have I lived through these weeks without paying much attention to penance, fasting and prayer? How often have I missed the spiritual fruits of the season without even being aware of them?
But how can I really celebrate Easter without observing Lent? How can I rejoice fully in your resurrection, oh God, when I have avoided participating in your death?
Lord, I have to die with You. There's so much in me that needs to die: false attachments, greed and anger, impatience and stinginess. Oh Lord, I am self-centered. I'm concerned about my career, my future, my name, my fame. I know that I have spoken about You and I've gotten my own glory and success because of it. Your name has not led me to persecution or oppression or rejection. It has brought me rewards. I see clearly now how little I have died with You. I really need to go Your way and be faithful. Oh Lord, make this Lenten season different from the other ones.
Let me find You again.
As our hearts break for our brothers and sisters in the Ukraine and all those who are living under oppression in Russia, we can give through the One Great Hour of Sharing, because that money will go in great part to helping those in the Ukraine. We can give out of the love for God and for all the ways in which God has, like I said last week, “saved our bacon”. At this time in Lent, God is calling us to stretch and let go of our attachment to things, including money, especially until none has too much, and none has too little, and everyone can sit in the temple and worship the Lord. May it be so. Amen.