Loving God, you hear us when we cry out to you for help, and you walk with us from darkness into light and from death to life.  Help us to never lose sight of our hope that is in you, through Jesus Christ our Saviour.  Amen.

    We can only guess at what might have been going on in the life of the psalmist when today’s Psalm was written.  We know that he was facing an enemy or enemies and that he felt as though God had forgotten him.  We know that he was experiencing pain in his soul and sorrow in his heart.  We know that he felt as though the light had disappeared from his eyes, and that he wondered how close death might be.  We know this because of his lament.  He asks, not once, but four times, “How long, O Lord?” (Ps. 13:1).  Have any of you ever been there?

    I heard a speaker this past week who described pain and suffering as kind of like entering another country.  Those who have never been there don’t understand, but those who have lived in that country have an unbreakable bond.  The speaker was Rev. Dr. Anna Madsen, who spoke out of her own experience.

    More than twelve years ago now, she suffered a devastating loss when her husband and young son were killed in an accident in Europe.  The same accident left her other son, who was 3 at the time, with a severe brain injury.  So now she is a single mother, with one daughter who was not injured, and her son who is in a wheelchair and can barely speak.  She now lives in Northeastern Minnesota and is opening a retreat center in her home.

    One of the things that she reflected upon as she spoke is what it is like to live on Holy Saturday - the day between Good Friday and Easter.  She also spoke about Holy Saturday as the most honest day on the entire church calendar.  This is the day that is in between death and resurrection.  A death has occurred and the darkness of Good Friday has been experienced.  However, the resurrection hasn’t happened yet.  And so, on Holy Saturday there is a mixture of grief and hope – grief over what has been lost, and hope in the promise of resurrection.

    Today, as we reflect upon Psalm 13, we find this same mixture of grief and hope.  The lament, it seems to me, also belongs to Holy Saturday, where it seems as though all has been lost, and yet there are still glimmers of trust and hope.

    The thing that is most amazing about many of the laments that are found in the Scriptures is that there is often trust and hope expressed at the same time as there is lots of lamenting going on.  In Psalm 13, most of it is pure lament.  How long, O Lord?  Consider and answer me!  Will you forget me forever, O God?  However, then there is a great big, “BUT”!  “But I trusted in your steadfast love” (Ps. 13:5).

    If the Psalm ended there, it would be easy to hear this “but” as a reproach to God.  It could be kind of like, “I trusted you, God, and look what happened.  I trusted you, and yet you have totally abandoned me.”  It could be a cry of despair, accusing God of betraying your trust.  Yet, the end of the Psalm makes a surprising turn.

    “But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.  I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me” (Ps. 13:5-6).  Wow!  How many people can say that in the midst of pain and suffering?  In spite of still waiting for God to act, the psalmist has hope.  He is promising that once the crisis has passed, he will rejoice in God’s salvation and will sing to the Lord.

    While I am aware that there are many people who are either living in the midst of Holy Saturday, or who have been there, I became aware this week of millions of people who are living in the midst of Holy Saturday right now.  I am curious how many of you have heard either on the news or from other sources that there are over 20 million people dying of hunger right now in Africa....  It is a famine that is so vast that it covers South Sudan, Yemen, Somalia, Nigeria, Ethiopia and Uganda.  For several months now, the Government of Canada has been matching donations given by individuals for famine relief - something that will end on June 30th.  This applies to Canadian Lutheran World Relief or any of the other agencies that are part of the Humanitarian Coalition.

    I mention this because I had not heard about it.  I don’t always pay attention to everything in my inbox, and it was probably there somewhere, but I didn’t know that we have an opportunity right now to help give some hope for resurrection and new life for millions of people.  In fact, that hope often comes through other people, just as it also comes through trusting the promises of God.

    The ironic thing, of course, is that Jesus says in our gospel for today, “I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (Jn. 6:35).  As we think about spiritual hunger and thirst, this is most certainly true.  However, there are also passages that talk about physical hunger and thirst, and how Christians share with one another in order that all might be fed.  There is hunger that only God can fill.  However, there is also hunger that is filled through the people who become God’s hands and feet in the world.

    Ultimately, we know because of Jesus that there is always hope of resurrection and new life.  When we are living in the midst of Good Friday and Holy Saturday, Jesus is there with us, for he has lived in that country, and he understands.  Yet, he has also been to the country of resurrection and new life and has promised to bring us with him and to raise us up.  Thanks be to God for the gifts of wholeness, healing and salvation.  Amen.

Pentecost 2 (NL summer)                            Psalm 13
June 18, 2017                                John 6:35-40
St. Luke’s Zion Lutheran Church
Pastor Lynne Hutchison

© 2017 Lynne Hutchison  All Rights Reserved