Loyal Love

 Psalm 36:5-10

 Rev. Monte Marshall

In his book, Five Practices of Faithful Living, United Methodist bishop, Robert Schnase, describes a transformative moment in his faith journey.  He was a college student “sitting on grass near a fountain outside a campus library on a bright spring morning,” mulling over his life.  He writes:  “I was rethinking my childhood and struggling with the normal things college students wrestle with.  I was more clear about what I did not believe than about what I did believe.”

Robert was also working on an assignment.  He was in a student group at his church that was reading a sermon by a leading, 20^th century theologian named Paul Tillich.  The sermon was titled, You Are Accepted.  When Robert read Tillich’s words, “Accept that you are accepted,” he was “jolted…into a new understanding of God’s unconditional love.”

Tillich asked: “Do you know what it means to be struck by grace?”  Robert writes “This was a provocative notion to me, an odd metaphor, to describe God’s grace as something that strikes, that jars us into a new way of thinking that collides with our old way of being.”

“Grace strikes at unexpected times, Tillich suggests: when we are in pain, feeling restless, empty, alone, estranged, or when we feel disgust, weakness, or hostility.  It strikes us when the other things don’t work, when we feel directionless and useless, when compulsions reign, and darkness overshadows.  When the ordinariness of life grinds us down, or the vacuity of the world’s promises leaves us empty, when we finally realize our churning and churning is taking us nowhere fast, in such moments, grace comes to us like a wave of light in the darkness, and we perceive a voice saying, “’You are accepted.’

“’We don’t know the name of it at the time; there will be much to learn later,’ Tillich writes.  We don’t have to promise anything at the time, for in that moment we are fundamentally the recipients of a promise.  We don’t have to give anything; only to receive what is given.  Our only singular task is to accept that we are accepted.

“You are loved.  You are loved.  You are loved.

And then Robert asks: “Can you accept that?”

This question ran headlong into Robert’s own “feelings of uncertainty, pain and struggle that [he had] experienced as a student wrestling with the expectations of parents, the pressure of peers, the yearning to fit in, the desire to make a difference.  [Tillich’s] words somehow stimulated a rush of thoughts about life’s meaning, connection, and direction.  I kept looking up from the text to the fountain, lost in my own thoughts, yet soothed by whispers of flowing water.  The Spirit was breaking through, stirring my soul, moving me to deeper places.”[1]

In Psalm 36, God’s people liturgically embrace the notion that we are accepted and loved unconditionally.  To illustrate the point, let’s go back to the opening verses of Psalm 36 that were not included in this morning’s reading.  These verses offer a chilling description of human beings living in the grip of evil: “Deep in the heart of the violent, perversity is the only oracle they hear.  They never view God with awe or reverence.  They flatter themselves in their own eyes so much that they can’t see—can’t hate—their own guilt.  In their mouths are mischief and deceit; all wisdom, all goodness is gone.  They hatch devious plots as they lie on their beds.  They set their feet on ways that aren’t good; they cling to what is evil.”[2]

At this point in the psalm, we might be tempted give way to despair and lose hope that this situation will ever change.  Or, we might expect the appearance of an angry God—a vengeful God—a punishing God—a violent God—arriving upon the scene to inflict wrath upon the evildoers.  And in our desperation, we might even welcome the appearance of such a God to avenge the evil atrocities already committed, and to prevent new atrocities from occurring. 

But this is not how the psalm unfolds.  Instead, the psalm takes an unexpected turn, and we’re struck by grace—that is, by God’s unconditional and utterly loyal love: “Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds.  Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your judgments are like the great deep; you save humans and animals alike, O Lord.  How precious is your steadfast love, O God!  All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.  They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights.  For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.  O continue your steadfast love to those who know you, and your salvation to the upright of heart!”

This graceful turn in Psalm 36 reminds me a story that Pastor John Ortberg tells in his book, Love Beyond Reason.  He writers: “We used to have a bedtime ritual when my children were small.  “’I don’t love you this much,’ I’d say, holding my hands a few inches apart, ‘and I don’t love you this much [hands a foot apart now], or this much, or this much’ (the gap growing wider until it was as far as my arms could go).  ‘I love you this much.’”

“Occasionally” he writes, “they would test it.  We were washing the car when one of my children got into the trunk, put all its contents on the ground, and sprayed them thoroughly:  books, blankets, my tennis racquet, and a new dress were all hosed and sudsed up beyond recognition.  My daughter, who was about four at the time, could see from face that she [was in deep trouble].  She looked up with big brown eyes and threw her arms out to the side as far as could: ‘I love you this much.’

 “How could I punish that?  ‘All right, honey.  Let’s just put this stuff in the garage.’”[3]

So beginning with verse 5 of Psalm 36, we’re struck by grace!  We may have been close to despair or expecting an angry, punishing God to make an appearance in the psalm, but look who shows up!  It’s a God of steadfast love with an all-inclusive reach.

The psalm says, “How precious is your steadfast love, O God.”  According to the dictionary, the word “steadfast” means “firm, fixed, settled, or established.  It means constant; not changing, fickle or wavering.”  Given this definition, Psalm 36 says that God’s love is firm, fixed, settle, established, constant, not changing, fickle or wavering.[4]  The Common English Bible translates “steadfast love” as “loyal love.”[5]  This loyal love is persistent, and tenacious, and it will not give up on us no matter how much evil we may do.

And it’s because God will not give up on any of us no matter what we do, that God’s “loyal love” is also God’s all-inclusive love.  The psalm says that ALL people may take refuge under shadow of God’s wing as if God is a mother hen, guarding her chicks under her wing.  The psalm says that ALL people may feast on the abundance of God’s house and drink from the river of God’s delights.  The psalm implies that ALL people may gather at the fountain of life, and that ALL PEOPLE may see light in God’s light.  The psalm even says that God’s loyal love not only saves human beings, but also animals.

So when we put all of this together, it seems to me that in the face of the undeniable evil that exists in our world—and God knows, we see it, read about it, hear about it and even participate in it each and every day—our response should be shaped by the  liturgical theology of Psalm 36.  Our response, at its best, should be an unexpected, surprising embodiment of grace that reflects God’s loyal, steadfast, all-inclusive and unconditional love for ALL people—including even the evil-doers of this world.  It seems to me that the gospels portray Jesus loving like this all the way to the cross.

And it also occurs to me the man whose life and witness we honor tomorrow has shown us the way.  On December 10, 1964 in Oslo, Norway, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace.  In the opening paragraph of his acceptance speech, Dr. King echoed the opening verses of Psalm 36 by acknowledging the reality of evil in his own time.  In the language of his day, Dr. King noted that “twenty-two million Negroes of the United States are engaged in a creative battle to end the long night of racial injustice.”  He mentioned the extraordinary risks and dangers being incurred in the struggle. 

He said to the distinguished audience: “I am mindful that only yesterday in Birmingham, Alabama, our children, crying out for brotherhood, were answered with fire hoses, snarling dogs and even death.  I am mindful that only yesterday in Philadelphia, Mississippi, young people seeking to secure the right to vote were brutalized and murdered.  And only yesterday more than 40 houses of worship in the State of Mississippi alone were bombed or burned because they offered a sanctuary to those who would not accept segregation.

“I am mindful that debilitating and grinding poverty afflicts my people and chains them to the lowest rung of the economic ladder.”

Dr. King then made a graceful turn in his speech.  Now he didn’t use the precise language of Psalm 36, but the hints of God’s loyal love are sprinkled throughout his remarks as he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize on behalf of his non-violent movement with its goal of overcoming “oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence.”  He noted that “Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts.”

“Sooner or later,” Dr. King said, “man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation.  The foundation of such a method is love.  The torturous road which has led from Montgomery, Alabama, to Oslo bears witness to this truth.

Dr. King then proclaimed his “audacious faith” in the future of humankind: “I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history.  I refuse to accept the idea that the ‘isness’ of man’s present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal ‘oughtness’ that forever confronts him.  I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality….I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality.  This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.  I believe that even amid today’s mortar bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow.  I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men.  I have the audacity to believe that that people everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.  I believe that what self-centered men have torn down men other-centered can build up.  I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive good will proclaim the rule of the land…I still believe that We Shall Overcome!”[6]

“How precious is your steadfast love, O God!  All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.  They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights.  For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.”  Thanks be to God.  Amen.