Sunday, January 21, 2018
 
It was a cold and snowy November day in 1996 in Chisinau in Moldova, when hundreds of people showed up to a worship service.  There were so many people they barely had enough room in the church, built some years before the time of the Russian occupation.  During the Russian occupation people were not able to worship.  According to a pastor who attended the service, a Reverend Van der Meer, there were 1,500 people in attendance, but in the parking lot outside there were only twenty-five cars.  People had walked three or four miles through the snow, some travelled by five different buses to get to the worship service.  You see, for a long time they hadn’t been able to gather for worship.  But now, it was as if the doors of the church had been flung open.  Reverend Van der Meer said that he had never seen such a commitment by people to worship; joining hands as they entered the sanctuary, tears running down their faces.  People were reunited.  There was a holiness and a power that had grasped every single worshiper.  This was the moment for which they had prayed, and the day had finally come, and they were willing to do anything to get there. 
 
It is fascinating when you think about it, it reminds me of the great Joni Mitchell, and the lyrics from her song, Big Yellow Taxi: 
 
Don’t it always seem to go 
That you don’t know what you’ve got
‘Till it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
 
It was a gathering of the faithful to worship.  To understand it and to feel what happened in Moldova in that month in 1996 is to grasp the emotion of Psalm 122.  Psalm 122 is about people finally coming back to their place of worship, having lost it, and reclaiming it.  It was part of what was known as a Psalm of Assent, a group of psalms that are clustered together as part of a progression.  The earlier part of the Psalms of Assent were about the dispersion, where the people of Israel were held captive, unable to gather together, and there is a sense of mourning and loss that their place of worship had been taken from them.  Whether it was people who lived domestically within Israel and Judah or it was those who had been forced into exile, it didn’t really matter.  As far as they were concerned, they were dispersed and the Temple was empty.  It was no longer a sacred place.
 
There is a second part of the Psalms of Ascent, and they are part of the journey back to Jerusalem, the journey back from oppression and towards liberation.  Psalm 121 is the last of these.  It is one that we will read when many of us gather here on Wednesday to remember Sid Gillespie.  Psalm 121 states: “I look to the hills.  Where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, who made Heaven and Earth.”  The people are finally on their way to Jerusalem.  It is a journey, a pilgrimage. Then, there is Psalm 122, today’s psalm about having arrived:  “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘Let us now go into the House of the Lord.  I was glad when they said unto me I can stand now within these gates!”  We have arrived!  We are in the Temple!  God is good!  It is time to praise!  This is a fantastic moment for us! Psalm 122 is a psalm of joy, praise, and power. But it is also a psalm of invitation. It says, “Not only am I in the House of the Lord, but I want to invite others.  ‘I was glad when they said unto us:  Let us come into the House of the Lord.’”  In other words, “Come and join us.  We are back in the Temple.  We are back where God is.”
 
The “House” to which the psalmist is referring could be two houses, really.  On the one hand, it is the House of David, it is their monarch, King David’s Temple, and it is the home of the people of Israel. It is the triumphant restoration of the people to the time of David, to the glorious moment when Zion was a mighty place, and the world acknowledged the glory of Jerusalem and of Zion.  But more than that, it is the House of God.  Echoing the great prophet Jeremiah in Chapter 31:6, where he says, “Oh that we go to Zion to worship in the House of the Lord!”  It is God’s house; it is not just the throne of David.  It is not just an ordinary place; it is an exceptional place, because it is the House of the Lord, and this is where the people wanted to be. 
 
I think about that often because the House of the Lord was a powerful place.  It was a place where people gathered, but it was more than that:  it was powerful symbolically.  I get a lot of comments about people’s first visit to this magnificent sanctuary.  Whenever a stranger comes in or a visitor, they are overwhelmed by it.  It is only when I show them some of the key ingredients of the architecture of this place that they really grasp its power. And its power not only as a place, but as a testimony to God.  For example, and I have pointed this out before, right here in the ceiling in the chancel area are the four Gospels:  Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.  At the very end of the sanctuary there is the Cross with a Bible and prayer next to it.  There are the lights, for the light of the world.  There is the depiction of Jesus in the Holman Hunt Light of the World stained glass.  If you are listening on the radio, go to the website, you will see pictures of the incredible stained glass windows of the life of Jesus.  On the walls you will see that this is a place where people have come to worship and to praise for generations. Those who have given their lives for us, are inscribed on the walls.  The Bantams of the War and their flag is on the wall.  There are images all over that are holy and sacred images.  I like what one of my friends said, “You know, you can worship God in a gymnasium, but with a place like this why would you?” No disrespect to gymnasium worship!  Why would you not surround yourself with things that remind you of the Gospel, of God’s presence over time, not just now?  
 
When the people went into the Temple in Jerusalem, they were full of praise engendered in them by this fervently beautiful Psalm.  It starts off with the recognition that the praise they are experiencing is collective, of a group of people coming together.  It is not one individual standing in a beautiful place recognizing the glory of God; it is the gathered community coming together and worshipping with praise the majesty of God.  Notice the language at the beginning, “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘let us go into the House of the Lord.’” The psalmist is not just talking about himself; he is talking about the people of God gathering.  The image is strong. It is of the twelve tribes of Israel coming together in this central place; those who had been exiled to foreign lands coming back.  Now, the tribes did not always get along; they were not a homogeneous group that shared everything in common.  On the contrary, they were often rivals, but when it came to the Temple of the Lord, they came to a place of unity, of and solidarity.  Worship is not about individual praise; it is about corporate praise and everyone gathering in one place.   
 
When they get there, the people are reminded why they praise.  In the Temple there was the Ark of the Covenant, and this consisted of a gold pot of manna.  It was represented by the Rod of Aaron, and the Ten Commandments.  All of these spoke about a God who had been with the people all along.  The manna was a sign of God’s sustenance and strength in their life in the past; the Rod of Aaron, the fact that they were chosen by God; and the Ten Commandments that they were being directed and instructed by God.  Everything was based on what God had done, not what they had done.  It was based on God being with them all along, and that the people should get together and praise their God, just like the people in Moldova in 1996.  These people realized what they had missed and the yearning in their hearts to join with one another in the worship and the praise of God.  There is nothing like it!  There is nothing that can replace it.  There is no form of media or connectivity that can in any way match the glorious sound of the people of God praising their Lord.  
 
I was thinking back to a rugby match I played years ago.  At the time, we were in South Africa.  We went from the coast where I lived up to the City of Johannesburg to play. Johannesburg is 6,000 feet above sea level.  We started to play and after about fifteen minutes we were wiped out.  We couldn’t run!  We were crying for oxygen.  It was that bad!  We were all trying to run with the ball and be as fervent as we could, and by half-time we were absolutely massacred by the team from Johannesburg.  Our coach took us to one side and he said, “You know, the problem is that at 6,000 feet, when you have been living down by the ocean, you have nothing in your lungs.  You are not ready for this!”  
 
We said, “Well, what are we to do, because this is not going to be a good second half!?”
 
He said, “Rather than trying to run with the ball all the time, as soon as you get it, pass it to someone else, because then you keep everyone moving in short distances, rather than always trying to bully your way forward. Keep it going as quickly as you can, and you will find that if you play as a team and pass it on, you won’t have to run and exert as much energy.”
 
Well, we couldn’t believe this, but we started to play like that and our game improved enormously.  The opposition couldn’t figure out why we suddenly had this energy.  They wanted to know what we were drinking!  How can these guys from Cape Town move at such speed all of a sudden?  It was just that we started to play together, as opposed to trying to do it on our own.  We still got clobbered, but that was fine.  The lesson was clear:  connectivity is what matters.  Together good things happen!
 
There also was engendered in the people of Israel the sense of prayer.  I know that we can pray anywhere, at any time, and we can pray on our own.  But Jesus put it clearly:  “Where two or more are gathered in my name, I am there.”  For the very origins of Judaism to the very roots of Christianity, the notion of praying with others is a central idea. It is sitting down to pray with those who share your common love and commitment to God. In God’s house you pray collectively.  You cannot duplicate that on your own.  That is why I am delighted that we have Prayer Group here at Timothy Eaton Memorial Church, and if you can’t join the Prayer Group, I suggest you pray for the Prayer Group.  Prayer is a constituent part of being a Christian.  It is far more important than anything else that we can possibly do fact.  Prayer is what is so utterly vital in times of difficulties and stress, joy and exultation. The power of prayer is an important thing.  I remember getting a call from a friend of mine who lives in the gay village a couple of weeks ago when there was such incredible fear within the community because of the disappearances, and it was just a call to pray for them.  It is the same this morning on Facebook, a Christian community in northern Syria is calling on Christians everywhere in the world today to pray for them as the Turkish military is moving into the northern part of Syria.  
 
Prayer is powerful. But prayer is not only about the individual, it is about the collective.  You all know my penchant for English soccer, and so when I was speaking to a relative of mine and I was told there are a number of star coaches and managers in the English Premier League who are Christians, my antenna went right up!  I Googled this and what did I find?  I found that there were a number of Christians who were coaches and managers within the English game.  One of them is the coach of Liverpool, and that bothered me, because they are Manchester United’s greatest rival.  I thought, “I am not going to pray for him.  I don’t care how good he is!”  Then I noticed that the manager of Manchester United, from Portugal was also a Christian – better, much better!  As I read about them, I couldn’t believe it!  
 
Jurgen Klopp, the manager of Liverpool, who I really like, said the following:  
 
I have to answer this question once and for all.  Although there is no football god, I believe there is a god who loves us humans just as we are with all our quirks, and that He also loves football, but we are the ones who have to score the goals.  I never pray about football.
 
In an interview he gave in a German newspaper, he said:
 
To be a believer, but not want to talk about it, I do not know how that would work.  If anyone asks me about my faith in Jesus, I give them the information, not because I have any claim to be any sort of missionary, but when I look at me and my life, and I take time for that every day in prayer, then I feel I am in seriously good hands.  I find it amazing if other people lack this sense of security in their lives, although they don’t know it of course, but otherwise they would probably look for it and they would find it, and I would pray for them. 
 
Jose Mourinho, who now manages Manchester United and formerly Chelsea, talked about the fact that he prays a lot, but that he also never prays about football.  He says:
 
Every day I pray, every day I speak with God.  I don’t go to church every day, and not even every week.  When I feel I need to, I go, and when I am back home in Portugal.  The centre of everything in my prayer is relationship and empathy, not only with the individual, but for the whole team.  To have empathy in the team, we must all give up something.  It is not about establishing a perfect relationship between me and you; it is about establishing the perfect relations in a group, because the group wins things.  It is not the individual who wins things, and therefore I pray for the relationships that I have.  
 
In both these cases, they are not praying about success in soccer; they are praying about relationships.  They are praying about the group.  They are praying about empathy.  They are praying about others having faith.  That is what is important to them both.  I couldn’t help but think that is exactly what this psalmist talks about when he says, “I am glad when WE go into the House of the Lord.”  
 
There is one final part that I find quite disturbing, and that is that there is a sense of prosperity in this Psalm that “those who prosper are those who love you” according to the psalmist.  Does that sound right?  Well, it does, but not if you interpret prosperity in a western, materialistic way, not if you understand prosperity simply as the accumulation of things and power.  You must think of it as it was meant.  He describes what that prosperity looks like, “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem”.  The word for “peace” that he uses is classical Hebrew word Shalom, and Shalom means “God’s overwhelming grace and goodness.” Jesus made that abundantly clear when he said, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God in its righteousness” and then all these other things will be added to you, but you seek first this Shalom.  You seek first the things of God, and then other things might come along.  To those who love the Lord, it is the peace, and praying for the peace of Jerusalem.  My goodness, what a contentious phrase that is today and how absolutely battered and bruised it has become. The writer could not have conceived of God being glorified if Jerusalem wasn’t glorified.  It is where the Temple was, and the people were returning to this Temple after many years of not having had the peace of Jerusalem.  They were worried, and afraid.  They are getting Jerusalem back, but there is still a threat.  
 
Jerusalem is symbolic of God’s presence; the very name derives from God.  It is not just a place, Jerusalem isn’t just a city, because God can be worshipped anywhere.  This was abundantly clear last week for those of you here for the sermon on Psalm 139:  “If I go to the heavens, you are there.  If I make my bed in She’ol, you are there.  If I go to the uttermost parts of the city, you are there.”  God is not confined by the city of Jerusalem.  God is not located in the Temple and nowhere else.  Jesus wept over Jerusalem.  He wept over people who were thinking that:  He was the New Jerusalem.  But Jerusalem still matters because it is a reminder of God’s eternal presence; a living reminder of an eternal truth; and a sign of things to come.  It is a sign of the heavenly realm, and a symbol of peace.  That is what Jerusalem means, and that is what we pray for Jerusalem always. 
 
This sense of peace that the people must have felt when they came into the Temple after having suffered imprisonment sounds to me like the great book Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut had been imprisoned in World War II in a slaughterhouse.  He wrote this incredible book and a movie came from it. There is a moment when one of the central characters has a vision of planes firebombing places. Suddenly the vision reverses and the planes flying backwards, the bombs that were dropped returning to the fuselage of the plane.  The people who had been shot find the bullets coming out of them, and they are restored to health.  The damaged plane is able to fly freely, to arrive back, and the weapons that had been used for the bombing were removed from the plane.  There was a sense that what had been devastation was now put right again.  What had been broken had been repaired, and that peace was the reversal of everything horrible that had happened.  A brilliant concept by Vonnegut!  The psalmist is saying the same thing. We have been battered and bruised, punished and dispersed, we have lived in foreign lands and had no Temple, but now we are back, and it affirms that God is with us.  It affirms that our praise, prayer, and our peaceful prosperity are founded in God, and when we come into the House of the Lord you simply say to all of this “Amen”.  Isn’t that why we are here today? Amen.