Sermon for March 6, 2022: A Wondrous Love based upon Psalm 104:1-4,10-15, 27-30

Photo by Nikola Johnny Mirkovic ​ on Unsplash​

Psalm 104:1-4,10-15, 27-30
Bless the Lord, O my soul.
   O Lord my God, you are very great.
You are clothed with honour and majesty,
   wrapped in light as with a garment.
You stretch out the heavens like a tent,
   you set the beams of your chambers on the waters,
you make the clouds your chariot,
   you ride on the wings of the wind,
you make the winds your messengers,
   fire and flame your ministers.
You make springs gush forth in the valleys;
   they flow between the hills,
giving drink to every wild animal;
   the wild asses quench their thirst.
By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation;
   they sing among the branches.
From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
   the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
You cause the grass to grow for the cattle,
   and plants for people to use,
to bring forth food from the earth,
   and wine to gladden the human heart,
oil to make the face shine,
   and bread to strengthen the human heart.
These all look to you
   to give them their food in due season;
when you give to them, they gather it up;
   when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
When you hide your face, they are dismayed;
   when you take away their breath, they die
   and return to their dust.
When you send forth your spirit, they are created;
   and you renew the face of the ground.

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 Bless the Lord, O my soul.
 O Lord my God, you are very great.
 You are clothed with honor and majesty,
 wrapped in light as with a garment.

     I spent some time on Friday trying to explain to one of my deeply southern friends the beauty of a clear winter day in Maine. I said that there is something so lovely about a winter blue sky, even if it’s 20 degrees out. As long as it’s not windy, it might as well be June if you were just looking out a window and looking marveling at the sky overhead. I told her about how people buy the right clothes so they can be out in the cold safely and about the way that the snow crunches underfoot.  And, everything is so bright! While I haven’t been converted to a lover of outdoor sports, it didn’t take living here long for me to see the beauty in a clear, bright winter day. She told me she’d take my word for it, but anything less than 40 degrees still sounded miserable.

You cause the grass to grow for the cattle,
   and plants for people to use,
to bring forth food from the earth,
   and wine to gladden the human heart,
oil to make the face shine,
   and bread to strengthen the human heart.
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     Tasha and I have been lucky enough to be able to afford to travel. The first time we went to New Orleans together, we decided that we’d spend the bulk of the money we’d saved for the trip on food. New Orleans is a city where you can eat! We had freshly made pralines from a shop near our hotel. We got incredible fried chicken at a little restaurant we wondered into. We even ate some touristy beignets.  But, the best meal we ate there... maybe the best meal we’ve had in our lives... was at this place called Bayonna. It was one of the fanciest restaurants we’ve ever been to. I got delicious pasta with venison. Tasha got what was called The Mixed Grill. It was three small pieces of meat, perfectly grilled, with an equally delicious little side to complement each meat. There were collards and sweet potatoes. There was a small squab, and little beef, and what was perhaps the very best bite of pork I’ve ever had in my life. I was very lucky that Tasha shared. The food was locally sourced and the farmers well paid. It was lovingly prepared. Twelve years later, we still ask each other, with no small amount of awe in our voices, “Do you remember that food we had that first time we went to New Orleans?”

     Today is the first Sunday in the season of Lent, a period of 40 days preceding Easter. As I said during our Ash Wednesday service, this is a season when many Christians will begin an intentional period of contemplation and discernment. Some will begin a fast from something that they wonder might be pulling their spiritual attention from God. Some might add practices of increased prayer time or special Bible readings. I hope some of you might attend the special Lenten Bible study with Old South or make use of the devotional we emailed out last week. Still others will add practices of almsgiving and service. Each of these things can help ground you in faith and allow you to explore what it means to follow Jesus, in times of great challenge as well as great joy.

     Each week this Lent, I am going invite you to consider a different spiritual practice in light of our reading. I am drawing from the work of a pastor named Jayne Davis. This week, a week when we read a Psalm dedicated to describing God the creator and the glories of creation, I am going to invite you to consider how you might cultivate wonder as a spiritual practice. Rev. Davis talks about Wonder as a kind of surprise that reminds us of the vast mystery that is God. I imagine for many listening to this sermon, it would not surprise you that I would suggest nature as something that can inspire wonder.  If you’ve ever eaten in New Orleans, I’m sure you’ve experienced a different kind of wonder and delight. Wonder is not small. Like the creator God making the clouds her chariots and also causing water to gush forth from the hills, awe and hope and astonishment and bewilderment are not limited to one part of creation. We may experience them in so many ways.

     This coming week, even with a pandemic and war going on, I hope you can carve out some time to stoke your sense of wonder a bit. Maybe remember the last time you were very curious about something you saw or read or heard. When was the last time you were surprised, in a good way? What has seemed like a marvel to you? Read through this scripture for yourself this week. Think about times when you’ve been satisfied by the fruit of God’s handiwork. Tell someone you love about a time when you’ve been deeply satisfied, because that is its own kind of miracle. Survival in trying times does not only require our work but also our joy. Wonder is something that sustains us. Practice making yourself open enough to experience awe. May God offer you renewal through that awe.
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Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Wil Gafney, "Lent 1," in A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2021)
Jayne Davis: https://www.churchleadership.com/leading-ideas/7-spiritual-practices-for-the-new-year/
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