Let's find passion in the things that matter

Psalm 146

“Praise the Lord!” says the Psalm.

That’s not exactly a divisive, controversial statement.

But maybe it should be. Maybe we are failing to get into heated, passionate debates about the things that are really central to our faith, and maybe that gives the impression that when we get into debates over other issues that those things matter more to us.

I want to ask: “Why are we not nearly as loud about the things that are most important to us?”

“I will praise the Lord as long as I live;
   I will sing praises to my God all my life long.”

            Well, I hate to be a snot-nosed kid preacher and ask this, but why? Why does it matter so much that we praise God? I think I have an answer, though I’m not sure how well people can hear it nowadays. My answer is that the good news of Jesus Christ is a life-or-death message. When the Psalm says, “The Lord sets the prisoners free // the Lord opens the eyes of the blind. // The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down // the Lord loves the righteous. // The Lord watches over the strangers // he upholds the orphan and the widow // but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin” this is not hyperbole. People are imprisoned—sure, we can talk about people literally in prison, but there are others imprisoned by addiction, by regret, by grief, by feelings they can’t control. People are blind—we don’t see people who make us uncomfortable; we don’t see people we can help, often times because we don’t want to see it. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down—and how many of those are there around? The Lord loves the righteous—and how many of us are confident that we are righteous apart from the grace of God? I could go on and on.

            The reason we praise God is because we aren’t sufficient, but in 21^st century America we do a smacking good job of forgetting that. So we argue about health care, and marriage, and guns, and the size of our government, and we put more energy into these things than we do the things that are central to our humanity. I’m guilty of it—nine times out of ten and twice most Sundays.

            We praise the Lord with our mouths but then we get more bothered by what the people of the other political party are saying than we do about what God is saying to us. Sin isn’t just doing bad things; it’s an orientation toward feeling satisfaction, revenge, and guilt. The best illustration I can think of for this is when you read that controversial piece on the internet, and you scroll down to that abyss of negativity we call the “comments section.” I’m sure we can mostly agree that writing some of the filth you find in the “comments section” is sin. What is less obvious—but I believe equally true—is that sin is also making that decision, when you reach the bottom of an article, to scroll just a little further. That curiosity is itself a kind of turning in on ourselves, because we are not reading further for the love of our neighbors but because we know there is nothing good to be found there and a part of us enjoys that. A part of us read this opinion piece specifically for that. We like controversy.

            But we have a serious problem. Because the word of God should be 100, no 1000, times more controversial than the comments section of an opinion piece. It should be more controversial than the things your bipolar relatives say at family gatherings. It should be stark and terrible and cause us to question everything. The terror of the law should bring us to our knees and the good news of the Gospel should leave us breathless with relief every week.

            I realize it often doesn’t. That’s sin, too. The fact is we’re covered in the stuff. We are turned in on ourselves and there’s no way out. That’s why we need Jesus. That’s why Jesus came for us to give us grace that we never earned—that we cannot earn. Amazing Grace. When our president sang that song at the funeral of the Charleston victims a week ago it was a living, breathing image of all our hang-ups cast against the backdrop of the life God would have us lead. Every president is polarizing. Depending on your political leanings, every president is either of a hero or a villain, and sometimes both. We need our leaders to sing about grace more often. We need to sing about grace more often, because we still care more for the things that don’t matter than the things that do.

            Tony Campolo had a great example of this that I’m going to share today but I’m also going to censor it a bit, even though I probably should be gutsy enough not to. I’ve already been much too controversial this week so I’ll overcorrect just this once. I’m going to change a more obscene word to a word that still might raise some of your hair, but oh well, that’s kind of the point. Some of you may know this story. Tony Campolo is a Christian evangelist and pastor and he once famously came out on stage at an event and said this, “I have three things I’d like to say today. First, while you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Second, most of you don’t give a damn [shit]. Third, you’re more upset with the fact that I said damn [shit] than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night.”

            That’s a pretty good illustration of the power of a good intention given too much power. It’s a good intention that we use good language, and it matters profoundly, but does it matter compared to people dying unnecessarily? Of course not! But we have a terrible ability to fool ourselves into making the most important things boring and the less important things critical.

            So, today, in the spirit of Psalm 146, with praises on our lips, I leave you with this simple good news of the Gospel. You are saved by grace, through faith that you did nothing to earn. You were dead in sin, and most days it shows itself in all sorts of ways you don’t even realize, but in Christ you are a new creation. The old is dead. The new has come. No matter the things you can control or the things you cannot control, you are redeemed/made new/saved/justified. You are a child of God and God does only one thing with his children: he shepherds them home. Everything else is commentary.

            Amen.