Songs get inside you and can stay with you
—they are how we learn our ABCs and multiplication tables “Three is a magic number” right…
For that matter, everyone from Athanasius to Luther to John Wesley to Marty Haugen insist
—Truths about God’s relationship to the world are often incomprehensible,
until they can be sung.
That said, there are a few instances in scripture where a song about God is sung in such a way it almost becomes MORE incomprehensible
—we read two such instances today
—The Psalmist’s story about the Oneness of God,
and Isaiah’s Blues ballad, or perhaps a sad country song—about God’s vineyard.
Both strange songs,
sung about God in minor keys and nearly as parodies.
Strange songs.
Prayer
Strange songs.
There is a scene in Back to the Future, where Marty McFly plays the song “Johnny B. Goode” three years before it is released, and everyone is utterly confused by his playing.
He responds, “But your kids are going to love it.”
Psalm 82 is sung in a similar vein
(his generation is baffled by monotheism, but the next will embrace it with all their heart) …
the Psalmist is struggling to explain monotheism
—the belief that only one God exists
—to a society chock fully of gods,
a culture saturated in polytheism.
He’s like the first fish who crawled on dry land trying to describe it to other fish…
The Psalmist comes up with this song, to explain it,
explain to people who can’t wrap their heads around the idea,
that God is one and all other gods are idols…
The one true God, the God of Heaven and Earth, the God of all that is, seen and unseen
—calls all the other gods of the world together into his office, and reads them the riot act.
God says to them:
“you gods, you have been judged as wanting!
You brought about injustice,
you’ve shown partiality to the powerful
and waited on the wicked,
you’ve been incompetent,
you stumble and cause natural disasters, ruining lives.
And as such, no longer shall you be gods,
you shall be mortals, and die like anyone else.”
Again, this is a strange song!
A strange way to say, “God is one.”
But the Psalmist, like Marty McFly, knows that singing: “God is one” is a little hard to hear for his generation, but the next will hear it plain, and won’t need a song about God slaughtering the other gods…
“But your kids are going to love it.”
This song might seem distant to us… because it is…
distant… until we take seriously what our Lutheran tradition has to say about idols
—false gods are anything that we fear, love, or trust excessively…
creaturely things that we elevate to the position of the creator.
Yes, for the Psalmists generation it was Ba’al and Tiamet, and a whole host of heavenly hosts…
but today we have our own pantheons…
there are plenty of things that we give our loyalty to,
experiences that make us feel small, and so we cozy up to them hoping to feel big,
ideals we idolize…
One way to find our false gods is to ask ourselves:
“When the stuff hits the fan, where do I turn?”
Whatever that thing, or person is, has the potential of being an idol to you…
Or, read ads and watch commercials, with a critical eye
—what is the thing that the ad is telling you will fix all of your problems?
For that matter, our Idols can be people too…
Lutheran Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber—the closest thing the ELCA has to a super-star
—starts off every one of her new members classes saying,
“I’m going to disappoint you,”
because so many people buy the hype around her, that they elevate her to an idol,
when she herself is very aware that she’s O’ so human,
and will fail at times,
like all humans,
all created things
fail at times…
Elevating ideas, and people, and things
to a place of honor that ought to be persevered for God,
warp us, sometimes warp whole societies,
just as the Psalmist describes
—the needy go unaided,
people’s lives get shaken in unjust ways,
all of it…
but fear not! The Psalmists’ good new is that
all these would-be idols, are mortal
—they will pass away,
there is a place for created things,
but it is not always, not forever.
We don’t need to make anyone, or anything, into a savior
—He’s already come!
Isaiah also sings a strange song
It starts off as a love song
—similar to the Song of Songs
(8 chapters of sensual songs,
sometimes read in order to embarrass bride and groom
on their wedding)
—but Isaiah sings it strange
—a marriage ballad…
between a farmer and his farm…
a song about working hard to produce what is good…
and getting nothing in return.
Like a blues ballad,
“My baby done left me. What should I do?
My baby left me, it’s misery through and through.”
And yet this farmer and field,
vinedresser and vineyard…
they’re revealed to be God and God’s people…
—God planted justice,
but it grew up bloodshed…
It’s like planting carrots
and finding out you got turnips instead…
worse still… the turnips are poison!
God have mercy!
Isaiah’s song is a strange song
turning us inward,
to seek the intentions of our hearts,
and outward
to look carefully at the fruits of our heart,
the results of our intentions.
A song, too,
that reminds us of how much God loves us,
and God’s will for us
—God loves us like a bride loves her groom,
like a farmer loves his field,
a vinedresser her vineyard.
Strange songs, moving us to prayer:
God who transcend all the idols we might put ahead of You,
God who love us and desires our fruitful growth
—make resentment cease,
bring us all to merciful reconciliation,
let our lives spread your peace.
A+A
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