Sermon at Springridge Mennonite Church - July 2, 2006
Scriptures: Psalm 30
Mark 5: 21-43
Title: “You have turned my mourning into dancing”
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- On a beautiful Sunday morning it almost seems wrong to talk about grieving and mourning.
- That is more of a topic for a bleary November day.
- However, it is precisely on the good days that it is also good to remember where the tough points of living have been.
- For when we can remember the depths of where we have come from, then we can truly rejoice in that new place to which we have arrived.
- Psalm 30 is a wonderful Psalm in this regard.
- It is a Psalm (or a song) of David which was sung at the dedication of the temple.
- Now this might seem strange to those who know their Bible because David did not build the temple but Solomon did.
- One explanation for this is that of the many Psalms which David had written, this one had a quality which the organizers of that temple celebration day wanted to have read.
- And so, here we have a happy occasion and reference is made to enemies and the land of the dead.
- Funny eh?
- “I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up, and did not let my foes rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. O LORD, you brought up my soul from Sheol, restored me to life from among those gone down to the Pit.” (vv. 1b-3 NRSV)
- Hardly words that we would immediately use on a happy occasion.
- But they are good words just the same because with them the author reflects with gratitude how God has saved his life and how God has subsequently blessed him.
- Sometimes appreciation for the journey is experienced not just through having come to the arrival point but through looking back at how far it is that the traveller has come, how much the traveller has endured and experienced along the way.
- Life is sometimes best appreciated in the contrast.
- Not always!
- Sometimes it is just good to enjoy the moment – pure and simple.
- But at other times, the contrast helps magnify the joy.
- The two stories from the gospel of Mark which were read this morning were very much stories of contrast.
- In the one Jairus’ daughter had died.
- Jairus was the leader of a synagogue.
- When he and Jesus arrived at his home the mourners were present and were already doing their thing.
- Jesus would have nothing to do with this; he evicts the mourners and then calls the girl to life again.
- The contrast here is sudden: death to life, mourning to dancing.
- Psalm 30 says it so well: “You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy...” (v. 11)
- A second story occurs at the same time that Jesus makes his way to the little girl’s death bed.
- An ailing woman who had likely felt that she too had been living on a death bed sought to touch Jesus in the hopes of being cured.
- This was a desperate act.
- For twelve years this woman had been bleeding.
- She had seen many doctors and endured many procedures but all for nought: for rather than getting better, she had gotten worse.
- Can you imagine how tired and drained and hopeless she must have felt?
- But she was driven to try one more thing.
- A touch.
- Now to us that might seem pretty insignificant.
- But it was actually quite daring because as a bleeding woman she was ritually unclean. And here she was wanting to touch a Jewish teacher – a Rabbi – thereby making him (or at least his clothes) unclean as well.
- That type of behaviour was worthy of a flogging if not worse.
- But it worked.
- The text says as soon as she touched the hem of his clothes: “...her haemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.”
- From mourning she likely felt like dancing.
- It had worked! Hallelujah!
- But then she got sick all over again. Not from bleeding -- but from fear.
- For Jesus had felt the miracle go out from him and he demanded to know who had touched him.
- There was no sense hiding and so she came forward in fear and trembling and confessed what she had done.
- But words of condemnation she did not hear.
- Instead Jesus said: "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."
- And there she was likely wanting to dance once again.....
- In both of these stories there is this up and down and down and up movement.
- The contrast is good for without its presence, it would be hard to tell how much joy must have filled these people’s hearts.
- The same for us.
- It can be said that those who have not experienced great sorrow, cannot know the true heights of extreme joy.
- I know that I get that sense when I note that the reaction of deprived children when they receive something tends to be a lot different from children who are used to getting all sorts of things.
- The first tends to show appreciation, the other nary a thank-you.
- That sense also comes through when some people give their testimonies and describe the difference between their old lost life and their new found life.
- Contrast helps enhance.
- A similar dynamic can be said for those of us who live in the first world.
- We are so used to comfort and plenty that our appetites are only jarred by the extremes of diet and entertainment as opposed to austerity and having to do without.
- Does this mean that we should wish for a difficult life?
- No.
- But when difficulties come, therein lies the potential blessing that the experience will lead us to a greater appreciation, a greater sensitivity and a greater depth of being.
- Verses six and seven of the Psalm say:
“When I felt secure, I said, ‘I will never be shaken.’ O Lord, when you favoured me, you made my mountain stand firm; but when you hid your face, I was dismayed.” (NIV)
- The verses continue:
“To you, O Lord, I called; to the Lord I cried for mercy: ‘What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me; O Lord, be my help.” (vv. 8-10 NIV)
- There is bargaining going on here.
- And the voice, I find, is strangely reminiscent of my own.
- Perhaps it reminds you of yours as well?
- I often wonder when I am ill why my prayer life takes a sudden upswing in frequency and fervour.
- Why don’t I pray as much when I am well and carefree?
- Why do I pray more when in grief or mourning?
- Perhaps it is because when we have cares that we then turn to give them to the Lord to remove, or at the least to help ease the burden which they lay upon us.
- God is likely used to such behaviour. But its selfishness bothers me and I get disgusted with myself when I notice it happening.
- It is like I become the shallow friend who only shows up when he or she has a favour to ask....
- But at least I know where to turn.
- So did the Psalmist.
- So did Jairus.
- So did the haemorrhaging woman.
- Mennonite pastor Ted Grimsrud wrote that:
“Mourning is about relinquishing a quest for control, accepting our lack of control, opening ourselves to our feelings of pain and helplessness. Faith confesses that in this very relinquishment an answer comes from God.” (Gospel Herald Oct. 5, 1993 p. 7)
- And more often than not an answer of healing comes and we do get better.
- That is hard to appreciate when we are always trying to live in the good times and trying to avoid the contrast.
- The Psalmist wasn’t able to avoid the contrast but rather celebrated it. He expresses it so well.
“You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.” (vv. 11, 12a)
- But note the very last phrase of the Psalm with which he ends:
“O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.” (v. 12b)
- And that continuous note of remembrance which is caught by the word “forever” indicates a remembering.
- Of the depths.
- Of the heights.
- Of the continuing faithfulness of God in our lives in its down and up parts.
- So that we might always be mindful and grateful of the one who has seen and will see us through.
- Amen.