In the closing scene of Shakespeare's King Lear only the Fool is left standing. All of the other characters have met death through various means. Albany, the Fool looks around to survey the death and destruction and proclaims:
"The weight of these sad times we must obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say."
Speak what we feel and not what we ought to say. This has been a particularly difficult time in the life of our congregation. We have experienced tragedy, death and loss at many levels. June brings stresses on other levels…graduation, leaving home, college. Those events bring their own unique sense of loss even as they are celebrated. And in times like this words seem inadequate, platitudes uttered are harsh. Exactly why these words from King Lear come to mind. We live often enough with the oughts…we try to be careful with what we say or do. We want the right words to come to mind as we strive to make sense of things, but there are no right words when dealing with life at this level. So, instead of what we think we ought to say, maybe we are called to speak our feelings.
This morning's texts are familiar stories. The call of Abraham and Sarah being validated even further with the visit of the strangers. They proclaim that Sarah will bear a child. This news brings them gales of laughter. Sarah splutters, how can this be…look how old I am! In Sarah's response we don't see the things she should have said, we have her gut reaction feeling…laughter that she would bear a child at the ripe age of 99. Even our gospel text speaks of feelings. Jesus isn't doing what a good Jewish man would be doing. Instead he is out in the countryside getting into all kinds of trouble. He took "speaks" as he feels…when he sees the crowds and their needs, he doesn't send them away as he ought. He responds with what he feels he should say. The text says he has compassion, literally he is moved in his guts to heal the crowd. And then he commands the disciples to go out and do likewise.
Speak what we feel, and not what we ought. Again, it's been a tough week for many. That is where the words of the Psalm speak volumes to us. The Psalms are the expression of our feelings. The writers aren't so worried about proper doctrine. They don't care if their words are embarrassing or even offensive. Psalm 116 tells of God keeping us, of God loving us. It is a Psalm of thanksgiving often read at Passover as a reminder of God's deliverance. In each section the writer lifts up a difficulty and moves to praising God. It too speaks of what we feel-our joys, and pains, and sorrows. Through it all God is constant and "feels" with us. Hence the Psalmist can say: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of this faithful ones. It is there that I would like us to be this morning. In the physical deaths we have known this last week, in the levels of loss experienced, we need this reminder of how precious we are in the sight of God. My paraphrase of this line is: "Costly, too costly is the death (life) of the faithful ones in the eyes of the Lord.
Sometimes we work way too hard at things…trying to make sense of events, seeking closure, striving to tie things in neat packages. There is a time and place for that. At the same time there are circumstances that call us to simply be; and to rest in the assurances of God's promises. The psalm's give us words for such times. They remind us that even when there seems no earthly way through a given time or place, God will carry us through. When we walk through the barren lands of grief and loss God cries with us. When we are given impossible news such as Sarah received, God laughs with us. And when life deals with us harshly, God still holds us as precious and chosen. Jesus walked with these truths and sent the disciples out to do the same. Jesus also knew the language of the psalms that allowed him to cry out the words he was feeling, and not the words he ought to say.
I share with you this story as a reminder of God keeping us in the midst of the impossible:
"In a world that pronounces so many of us 'not good enough,' what might it mean to believe that we really are chosen, precious and beloved? In a new members' class we talked about baptism: this holy moment when we are named by God's grace with such power it won't come undone.
Fayette was there-a woman living on the streets, struggling with mental illness and lupus. She loved the part about baptism and would ask over and over, 'And when I'm baptized, I am…?' We soon learned to respond, 'Beloved, precious child of God and beautiful to behold.' 'Oh, yes!' she'd say, and then we could go back to our discussion.
The big day came. Fayette went under, came up spluttering, and cried, 'And now I am…?' And we all sang, 'Beloved, precious child of God and beautiful to behold." "Oh yes!' she shouted as she danced all around the fellowship hall.
Two months later I got a call. Fayette had been beaten and raped and was at the county hospital. So I went. I could see her from a distance, pacing back and forth. When I got to the door, I heard, 'I am beloved…' She turned, saw me, and said, 'I am beloved, precious child of God, and…' Catching sight of herself in the mirror-hair sticking up, blood and tears streaking her face, dress torn, dirty, and re-buttoned askew, she started again, 'I am beloved, precious child of God, and…' She looked in the mirror again and declared, '…and God is still working on me. If you come back tomorrow, I'll be so beautiful I'll take your breath away! (Companions in Christ; Upper Room resources; as told by Janet Wolf in "Chosen for..")
"Costly, too costly in the eyes of the Lord is the death (and life) of God's faithful."