By The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
September 23, 2012
Text: Psalm 1
When historians write of our age, I think one of the terms they will use to describe it is, “The age of impermanence.” It seems that many of the things that are solid and reliable in our lives are, in fact, in a state of flux. Things that people have been able to rely on aren't necessarily as reliable as they once were - the age of impermanence.
I see that in many different realms. I see it, for example, in the realm of thought. For all the great advantages and connections that occur because of our new technology, there are scholars today who believe that this is actually endangering thought. Not an idea, for people are quick to put their ideas down either on Facebook or Twitter. One line, a few characters of a thought that they might have had or an idea they might have had. I mean something deeper, something that has been worked through, tested, reflected upon, reasoned through.
It is great that one can express oneself and give an idea and share it, but very often in the future, what was said or what was written is forgotten, that tweet that was delivered a month ago, now if you ask the person who wrote it, they will say, “Did I say that?” There is a danger that we sometimes do not reason things through, reflect upon them, analyze them, test them. Our thoughts are often fleeting and impermanent.
We find the same thing, do we not, in relationships that we have? Modern statistics have just shown very currently that a lot of the relationships that people have trusted to be the foundation of their lives over the years are much more fleeting and passing than they once were. Relationships that once were supposed to last a lifetime now can be simply a breeze of days, months or years.
There is a sense of impermanence in people's lives, never quite sure at times whether the rock solid things that they thought they were building on in those relationships are still there. We see the same thing in religion. People often say to me, quite honestly and openly, “I have no desire to belong to formal religion. I have no desire to belong to a community of faith. “
What they're really saying is that they want to live a life of faith in isolation from others rather than working through all the issues that come from worshipping and living and working together in a community of faith, just simply picking and choosing, exiting and entering as they see fit. What kind of church and faith are we going to have in this impermanent world in the future, I ask myself.
In the realm of work, many people in our society feel insecure. They're insecure as to whether the job that they went in on Monday is still there on Friday or if an organization that was supposed to be the foundation for their lives for many years with all the benefits that could be accrued from it will, in fact, be gone tomorrow and they will be left, seeking something new and making a U-turn in their lives. Do not underestimate how many people in our society are feeling that way right now.
Even when it comes to meals and to mealtimes, there's impermanence. Mealtimes were, or they used to be when I grew up, set. You had breakfast and you had lunch you had dinner. Now you can eat anytime, anywhere, any place: on elevators, subways, buses, you name it. I think the next thing I expect to see is someone coming into the subway next to me and setting up a whole Thanksgiving turkey dinner on their way up to Rosedale Station. Someone in the congregation, when I mentioned this at 9.30, said they've already seen somebody doing that; soup and a three-course meal. It's fantastic.
Oftentimes there is a sense of impermanence. Meals are not communal. Meals are individual and personal. People live in isolation. They're self-actualizing, self?absorbed, self-interested and self-instructed. It might sound good, but there's nothing much that's permanent.
In fact, when I look at our society in Toronto, I can only think of one thing that seems to be permanent and that is that our sports franchises aren't there at play-off times, with the exception of the Argos, God bless them. But it seems that we're living in this world that is continually not only changing, change is an inevitable thing, but of impermanence.
Yet people still want to live lives that are blessed. They still, if you really ask them, have what they call in Latin a sensus religionis, a religious sense within them. They want to be blessed by God. They want all the things that God has to offer, but what they don't want are the things that God might want or expect from them. So even God is part of the impermanence, a fleeting idea, maybe dismissed, maybe accepted, but who comes and goes.
You know the psalmist from Psalm One today is screaming at us from the grave. He's saying, “What are you people thinking?” The psalmist wrote this to sum up all the psalms and is therefore the first psalm, an introductory psalm in all the different books of the psalms that there are. It is a summation of all that Israel believed in: wisdom of God and the Torah, the Law of God, that it is simplistic in some ways. It seems to pass a judgment swiftly on the wicked and it seems to be in praise of righteousness and some have thought it very naïve, but when you go to the heart of what is here, when you understand what the psalmist is really getting at, maybe there is wisdom to this.
The first part of the wisdom of this is that a life lived with God's instruction is good. The psalmist writes, “I want you to meditate on the law day and night.” Now, the word for the law in this text is Torah and Torah is the first five books of the Old Testament. They are the teachings of the wise purveyors of the law. The Torah is the guide for people to follow. It is what unites and holds people of faith together. But the Torah is more than that. It is a form of instruction. It is not just the cold, analytical word of the law. It is a life lived in response to the instruction of God.
John Calvin said in his commentary, “What we need to have as human beings is a teachable frame.” In other words, we need to be in a position spiritually where we're prepared to learn, where we're prepared to grow, to be open to the presence of God. Does this mean then that the righteous, who meditate on the law, are perfect? No. Does it mean that we don't make bad decisions? Of course we make bad decisions. Does it mean that we're morally pure as opposed to the wicked who are not? By no means.
What it means is that the truly faithful are willing to be subjected to the teaching of God. That is why the psalmist said, “Blessed are those who trust in the Lord.” Trusting in the Lord is key. Listening to the Lord's voice is key. Jesus, the embodiment of the law, the very one who was the incarnation of the law, said, “I want you to follow my commandments that your joy, that my joy may be in you and your joy may be full. This is what I have commanded you, that you love one another as I have loved you. “
In other words, what he's asking from his disciples is a life that is lived open to the guidance of the Lord because, when one lives open to the guidance of the Lord, life is richer. It is blessed. It is joyful. It is full of trust, but it's not perfect. The wicked, on the other hand, will not listen to the Lord. They will not listen to his instructions. They don't care about it because even the Lord for them is an impermanent idea that simply comes and goes.
I was thinking about that this week. I don't know if you read the storyline in the newspapers about an EPA result that says that there is a great deal of arsenic in rice. I don't know if you read the story, but that in fact, we might be being poisoned by rice. Now, you just can't win, can you? I have brown rice because its low on the glycemic index. It's good for you. It has some fibre in it. If it's cooked properly, its low in fat and I thought that I was doing myself some good and I'm killing myself as I'm eating this. You can't win, can you?
So they said well to now eat rice in moderation, but they don't tell you what moderation is. They tell you to eat other things along with it, but they don't tell you what those other things should be. In other words every time now I boil some rice, I think I'm going to die. It's really not a happy mealtime.
But one of the really interesting things about arsenic is a story that I read, a true one, some years ago in Fallon, Nevada. In Fallon, Nevada they have the highest arsenic levels of any city in North America. It comes through their water supply. It's just the way it is. So they decided that they needed to do something about it, but the council voted against the only solution to having arsenic in the water and that was a purification system.
The mayor, when asked about it, said, “Well, we've all lived here for a number of years and we're all human and we know we're going to die anyway.” Isn't this great logic? “Therefore, we're not going to bother with the water filtration system. We're just going to die of arsenic poisoning. “
When it was taken to the people, get this, they said, “We don't want government interfering in our lives and telling us what to do. We've drank water with arsenic in it for years and we're going to continue to drink water with arsenic in it and we're human and we're going to die anyway.” And I'm thinking that's what the psalmist is getting at when he says, “The wicked will not listen, right?”
How different are we to them because so often in our lives, we just don't take the council of the Lord seriously in our prayers, in our worship, in our study of the Word. We are independent, self-actualizing, self-informing individuals, but is it good for us?
Another thought by the psalmist and that is that those who listen to the Torah, the Law of God, have a strong foundation in their lives. The psalmist writes that the wicked are those who, if you follow them, will lead you to destruction, but the path of the Lord is for righteousness. What the psalmist is getting at is even clearer. He goes on and describes it. He says, for example, that those who are righteous, blessed, who listen to the Lord, I want to quote him, “is like a tree, planted by streams of water, which yield its fruit in season and whose leaf does not whither, whatever he does prospers. “
What the psalmist is getting at here is that, in a world of impermanence, and there was impermanence in biblical times, there was something about the streams and the living water of God that gave solidity and a foundation and safety in people's lives. When you think about it, if any of you have ever been to the Middle East, you'll know exactly what he's talking about, that you will in fact bear fruit and you can grow and have deep roots, but only where there is water. Where there is no water, it is dry and the roots whither and when the wind comes, the trees are blown over.
Those who build by the streams of the living water, they have something solid. They have something that is permanent. They have the Grace of God. The people, who live like that, are the ones who will flourish. Unfortunately, even if you say that to people today, often they hear it differently. They deconstruct our religious language and they misunderstand it and they think, rather than being something good, it is something negative.
In 1675, the great Christopher Wren, after the London Fire, built St. Paul's Cathedral. It was a time of impermanence and devastation in London, but they wanted to build St. Paul's to help rebuild London itself. It's a fabulous place. It took him 35 years to build it and in 1710, finally he was able to go to Queen Anne and present this magnificent cathedral and he wanted to know what she thought about it. He was anxious to know and so she told him and she only had three words for him, “It is awful, it is amusing and it is artificial.”
Well, you'd have thought that Wren would have died, wouldn't you? The queen thought it was awful. The biographer, however, of Sir Christopher Wren, said that he was ecstatic. He was overjoyed. He couldn't believe how positive the queen was because, in 1710, awful mean awe inspiring. Amusing meant amazing and artificial meant artistic. Only in our generation and in recent years, have we switched the meaning of the words.
I think that, as a world and as a society, we switch the meaning of the words of our faith as well. When you use the word “faith” to people, those who believe in it say, yes, that is a living relationship with God. Others will say it is restrictive. When you use the word law or Torah, we go this is a foundation. It is solid. Others hear it and say it is the imposition of a rule. Even fellowship, we see as something to enjoy and nurture. Others see it as an obligation that will oppress them.
The difference you see between the righteous and the wicked is the language they use to describe what they hear and see and think. I think one of the great challenges of our day in a world of impermanence where people don't feel as solid as they once did, not everybody, but a lot of people don't, who live their lives often in isolation and loneliness, need to hear the word of faith and the word of God in a new way that tells them that they are blessed, when they find the instruction of the Lord, that they are blessed, when they join with others in fellowship, that they are blessed when they have something solid in their lives that's like a stream of living water that is going by them.
To those who have brought their children here today and for those who are bringing up young people, I ask you to think on this, what solid foundation are you giving your child for their life? On what can they - whatever happens to them - on what can they trust and believe? Whatever the world brings and the impermanence that it might offer, with all the simple-sounding clichés that clamour around it, ask them, what do you have that lasts forever because the psalmist would say what you have is God. Amen.