Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

March 21, 2010

Winter Park Presbyterian Church

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”

The Lord has done great things for us and we rejoiced.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses in the Negeb.

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy.

Those who go out weeping, bearing the seeds for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.

~ ~ ~

“I’m just not in the best place right now. Nothing is going right. I could analyze what went wrong, blame everything from the weather to my ex-wife, cry in my beer, but it won’t change a thing. I’ve just got to stir my memory. It wasn’t always like this. God’s been pretty good to me in the past ... had some high times. And God ain’t done with me yet.” (He forces a smile.) “If He’s been faithful in the past, I reckon I can trust Him with the future.” (Sounds like a song on the country music station!)

It also sounds like a confession to a bartender before the patron stands up, hikes up his jeans, squares his shoulders and walks out with an air of determination and dogged faith. The words may echo occasions when we held onto some shred of faith in hard times. We are a people of memory and hope and that is what sustains us in the present.

Have we all been there at one time or another? A time when we’ve lost a meaningful relationship, gotten the proverbial pink slip, had a protracted illness, been blasted by a hurricane or some natural disaster, seen our savings drained by recession or other financial freefall? Didn’t the Psalmist pray, “Restore our fortunes O Lord, like a flashflood in the desert.”

We’ve also had those times when life was flush, our larders full, our homes happy, our enemies in retreat and all was going well … exceedingly well. How easily and heartily laughter spilled forth. “Bring it back,” the Psalmist prays. “You did it before; do it again.” Like the eople of Israel we are also people of memory and hope.

There is a powerful air of nostalgia here, a longing for the good ol’ days. Today’s passage from the Psalms is based on the Jews’ long-anticipated return from seventy years of captivity in Babylon. When it happened the return to Jerusalem seemed almost too good to be true; like a dream. Surreal. There were smiles and laughs; eyes sparkled … a lot of back-slapping and high fives. That’s how the people of Israel remembered it.

Some might opine that the good ol’ days, in fact, may not have been quite as good as remembered. Time has a way of adding a golden, gilt-edged glow. Time can help us forget the sorrow, the hard work, and the setbacks. Memories of triumphs tend to make us forget the blood, sweat and tears, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Recall Lee Trevino’s remark, “the older I get, the better I used to be.” In fact, the struggle may sweeten the victory. But we might be well advised to remember the difficulties we faced, the times we thought we were done in and wanted to quit, the pain. Remembering may prepare us for the challenges ahead.

The worst six weeks of my life were spent at basic training at an ROTC summer camp at Fort Bragg, NC. Little sleep, oppressive heat, long training exercises with TAC offers shouting in our faces, lording their authority over everyone, jumping out of towers, PT at dawn … miserable. And yet, more memories, more laughs, more camaraderie came out of those six weeks than at any other comparable period in my life. I survived. It was a rite of passage, successfully completed.

The Israelites, exhilarated by the news that they were going home, found the reality -- when they got there -- not so pretty as they had remembered it. Their beloved Jerusalem was in shambles; competing tribes had moved in, opposition to their return was fierce. Rebuilding the old glory was inglorious. Some called it the 2nd Exodus. Be prepared. Still, the past gives hope. We’re still here and we’ve come through a lot by God’s grace, and all the grit we could muster. The people of Israel were people of memory and hope.

Nostalgia can serve us well, or it can mire us in a past where, in retrospect, everything was wonderful. Thus we are captive, cynical and can become complainers.

I recall a lady in a former church, “Carolyn”, who was as sweet a southern lady as there ever was. She was however, not a person you enjoyed being with for very long. You see, everything good had happened in the past, when God had been so real and life so sweet. Now she basically endured and bemoaned and whined. One always left her presence feeling drained.

Suppose we take the positive angle. Suppose the past served to remind us of God’s faithfulness then, and acted as assurance of God’s faithfulness now. Suppose, in spite of stifling circumstances, we trusted God’s power to deliver more than the world’s to maintain the status quo. “Even in the midst of a heart-breaking, scar-making present, we defiantly praise God because we believe more in God’s goodness than the world’s badness.” We witness to a new day because we are grounded in the past and trusting in God’s faithfulness for the future.

In that hope the people of God found delight in the prospect of return. “Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting. He who goes to and fro weeping shall come again with a shout of joy.” What delights us we want to give expression to. Because praise completes the enjoyment. It begs to be expressed.

The opposite is like discovering a new author, or seeing a great film and not being able to tell another person how moved we were; it’s coming to a turn in the road and seeing an amazing view, but no one seems interested because all they are thinking about is when they’ll get to the next McDonald’s. It’s hearing a good joke and having no one to share it with. Praise completes the enjoyment.

A case could even be made that we don’t have to wait for the blessing to be grateful; hope positions us to receive, to capture what is to be given … and shows us how to enjoy God … forever. After all that is our chief end according to the question of the Westminster Confession. Why not get a jump on joy?

We are people of both memory and hope. We praise. We worship. We glorify. Anthropologists have noted that worship is a universal urge, seemingly hard-wired into the very fiber of our being. Praise is not created to be part of our life; it is our life.

Orel Hershiser was an unbelievably talented baseball pitcher who pitched an amazing 1998 season for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Following a complete game shut-out in August, he did not allow his opponents to score an earned run in 59 consecutive innings. When the Dodgers faced the New York Mets in the National League Playoffs, Orel dominated the hitters, leading the Dodgers to victory by pitching more than 24 innings. In the final game of the playoffs, he pitched a complete game shut-out, and ended the season having won the Cy Young Award and two MVP awards; one for the National League play-offs, and the other for the World Series.

In one of the final games of the play-offs, the TV cameras zoomed in and caught Orel in the dugout between innings softly singing to himself. Unable to make out the tune, the announcers merely commented that Orel’s record certainly gave him something to sing about. A few days later when Orel appeared on Johnny Carson’s “Tonight Show,” Johnny asked him what song he had been singing during the game, and if Orel would sing it right then and there.

The audience egged him on and roared their approval over Orel’s embarrassed reluctance. Finally, on national TV, Hershiser softly sang the tune that he had been singing while completing in the World Series:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below.

Praise Him above ye heavenly host.

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

We are people of memory and hope … who, as a result, glorify and enjoy God … which is confirmed and multiplied when expressed.

AMEN