Epiphany 8/Ordinary Time 8
Preaching
Hear My Voice
Preaching The Lectionary Psalms for Cycles A, B, C
Object:
(See Proper 20/Pentecost 18/Ordinary Time 25, Year B, for an alternative approach.)
This psalm -- which, like so many others, contrasts the wicked with the righteous -- relies on an agricultural metaphor that would have been familiar to most early readers, but which may be less familiar to those living in urban areas today. The metaphor is the contrast between grass and trees.
Those who dwell in arid regions, in particular, would have been familiar with the phenomenon of desert grasses: tough species that require little water, and which grow and die very rapidly. A flash flood roars through a desert wadi, scrubbing the little canyon nearly clean. Pools of water linger for a time, and shortly afterward give birth to swaying, green grass. This grass gives an illusion of fecundity, when in fact its existence is precarious. It will not be long before the water in the soil dries up, and the grass with it.
Yet there is another sort of plant growing in that wadi. When the floodwaters come, they swirl around the trunk of a wizened, ugly little tree. The waters are not strong enough to carry the tree away. When the scorching desert sun comes out and dries up the grass, its rays are not hot enough to reach deep into the earth, where the tree's roots are sunk. Those roots reach into hidden, subterranean streams of water: a source that is far more constant and reliable than the capricious floods that periodically refresh the ground's surface.
"The righteous flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon" (v. 12). Palm trees, in the Middle East, are the distinctive trees of desert oases. Not only do they provide welcome shade, but also provide dates, a staple food. As for the famed cedars of Lebanon, they are a notably tall and straight tree, suitable for the most magnificent of construction projects. Trees, of course, are particularly long-lived: "In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap ..." (v. 14).
Our culture is in love with the passions of the moment. Advertisers hawk the pleasures of the latest gadget or luxury item, and value the trendy over the reliable. People of faith know better. They know life is a distance race, not a brief sprint. They know the Lord blesses those who are in it for the long haul, who cherish divine values more than the merely worldly.
-- C. W.
This psalm -- which, like so many others, contrasts the wicked with the righteous -- relies on an agricultural metaphor that would have been familiar to most early readers, but which may be less familiar to those living in urban areas today. The metaphor is the contrast between grass and trees.
Those who dwell in arid regions, in particular, would have been familiar with the phenomenon of desert grasses: tough species that require little water, and which grow and die very rapidly. A flash flood roars through a desert wadi, scrubbing the little canyon nearly clean. Pools of water linger for a time, and shortly afterward give birth to swaying, green grass. This grass gives an illusion of fecundity, when in fact its existence is precarious. It will not be long before the water in the soil dries up, and the grass with it.
Yet there is another sort of plant growing in that wadi. When the floodwaters come, they swirl around the trunk of a wizened, ugly little tree. The waters are not strong enough to carry the tree away. When the scorching desert sun comes out and dries up the grass, its rays are not hot enough to reach deep into the earth, where the tree's roots are sunk. Those roots reach into hidden, subterranean streams of water: a source that is far more constant and reliable than the capricious floods that periodically refresh the ground's surface.
"The righteous flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon" (v. 12). Palm trees, in the Middle East, are the distinctive trees of desert oases. Not only do they provide welcome shade, but also provide dates, a staple food. As for the famed cedars of Lebanon, they are a notably tall and straight tree, suitable for the most magnificent of construction projects. Trees, of course, are particularly long-lived: "In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap ..." (v. 14).
Our culture is in love with the passions of the moment. Advertisers hawk the pleasures of the latest gadget or luxury item, and value the trendy over the reliable. People of faith know better. They know life is a distance race, not a brief sprint. They know the Lord blesses those who are in it for the long haul, who cherish divine values more than the merely worldly.
-- C. W.
