How long to sing this song?

I waited patiently for the Lord;

he inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the desolate pit,

out of the miry bog,

and set my feet upon a rock,

making my steps secure.

He put a new song in my mouth, 

a song of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear, 

and put their trust in the Lord.

—-Psalm 40:1-3

In 1983, the rock and roll group U2 used these words to work a tune that became a song called 40.  The repeated words from the Psalm are:

“I will sing, sing a new song”

Followed by U2’s own question

“How long to sing this song?”

It seems apparent that they understood that the psalm itself expressed longing for something new…and the realization that the moment of newness was “not yet”.

While this song was reflective, perhaps even meditative, they used the same questioning line in another song on the album… expressing frustration and anger.

“Sunday Bloody Sunday” remembered the death of thirteen protesters in Derry, Northern Ireland.  Amidst the agony of violence and hate, comes the cry:

How long, how long must we sing this song

How long, how long???

We ask this question in so many contexts:  

how long must we endure?

how long must things be broken?

how long will we fail to love God, neighbor and self?

One question that we are all wondering is “how long will this virus continue to upend our lives”, which leads to a connected, rather specific question, less important but certainly on many of our minds, 

“How long before we can once again gather as the full community at St. Paul’s?”

No one knows the answer to this question, but I think I can safely say that it will not be resolved by Holy Week and Easter.  So I will say out loud the sad, and difficult words now:

We will not have services here at the church during Holy Week and Easter Sunday.

This is a hard decision in the sense that we know our services sustain people in their daily lives, especially in times of crisis. This is also the right course for our community, for we are called to care for one another to the best of our abilities. This action may not only prevent individuals from getting sick, but from spreading the virus to those most at risk, and could potentially keep our healthcare system from being overrun. These precautions are worth it precisely because they may make a difference.

I am working now on a series of reflections and videos to be released daily during Holy Week.  It is also my intent that, whenever it is safe to return to public worship together at St. Paul’s, that that Sunday will be a Festive Easter Resurrection service, no matter what the calendar says.

However, I want to point out one more set of lyrics from U2.

Following the cry, “How long must we sing this song.  How long?”, they give an answer.

“Tonight, we can be as one, tonight.”

Being one together is never solely about physical presence, or any liturgical service, but about God connecting all of us, woven to each other because we are all made in the image of God.

Thanks to God’s love, we remain one.

Thanks be to God.

Reality

Welcome to the blog, but I have to be honest with you:  I'm not blogging anymore.   

Maybe someday again, but for now I invite you to look at old posts.  If you comment, I will still post it and respond in some way.

Take care,

Kurt

Ash Wednesday on Valentine's Day

I cannot ever remember experiencing an Ash Wednesday on Valentine’s Day.

As I sat with the idea, I thought of a strange “what if.”  What if (and please let me play this out before moving to outrage) we made Ash hearts on our foreheads to start Lent?  

Consider the symbolic, metaphoric, and more-than-literal possibilities by such a declaration.

There are the metaphoric heart conditions: 

Hearts a fire…Hearts ablaze…

There is metaphoric action of the heart:  

From the Ashes to Go service, “We take to heart God’s call to repentance and the assurance of forgiveness proclaimed in the gospel, and practice in our lives the work of reconciliation.”

There is metaphoric transformation of the heart:  

Hearts of stone to hearts of flesh.  New and contrite hearts.

And then, the heart as love:

Jesus in the Gospel of Mark:  “The Lord our God, the Lord is one;  you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength….You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  (Mark 12:29-31) 

Or perhaps even more concise, Jesus in The Gospel of John:  “Love one another as I have loved you." (John 15:12)

An ash heart would work…and might be better understood by the world.

However, the cross is our “Heart of Christianity,” to invoke the title of Marcus Borg’s best known book.  The cross is the more-than-literal heart of our faith.  The true impact of ash and the cross are revealed in Paul’s writings, as explored by Borg and John Dominic Crossan in their book “The First Paul”.

The Cross — The Roman imperial reaction to the love taught and lived out by Jesus.

The Roman cross is the brutal, violent action of an unjust execution.

But we Christians, see in crucifixion the depth of God’s love for us as revealed in God’s son…who died not in our place for sin, but died because of his love for God’s people and his passion for a different kind if life for all of God’s creation.  (see “The First Paul”, p. 142)

The meaning of resurrection then becomes clear.  Where the Romans sought to disparage and disgrace, we see new, sacred life:  Jesus is Lord…Caesar is not (be it the Caesar of then, or the Caesars of today).  

Peace and love and non-violence and justice, summed up as God’s righteousness, is to be distributed to and for everyone.

Ashes are an outward and visible sign of the transformation that we are called to be part of:  active participants in God’s creation of a transformed world.

This is the way for God, and the way for Jesus, and the way for us.

(Thanks to Shannon and Rhonda who helped me create the image.)