"Call Upon Me In Trouble' - Psalm 50: 13

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

From Psalm 50:13: Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you and you will glorify me.

Wednesday morning, St. Paul’s Lutheran School gathered here in the sanctuary for chapel: 80-some kids, fourteen staff, about a dozen or so parents, and me. We heard the same Gospel reading you heard a few minutes ago, Jesus healing on the Sabbath Day. We sang and prayed together, giving thanks to God for the gifts He gives to us in Christ. When we were done, we went about our day, back to classrooms, offices, and homes.

Meanwhile, about 800 miles away, at Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis, Minnesota, approximately 400 students were gathered for their weekly chapel service, joined by members of the parish, giving thanks to God and celebrating the start of their school year. Unbeknownst to them, a troubled young man was outside, determined to do what thirty years ago was unthinkable: he opened fire into the church, killing two and injuring seventeen more, some children, some adults. I don’t need to tell you the specific, graphic details – you can read that for yourself at your favorite news website.

I can tell you, when we heard the news here at the school, the reaction was swift. While there were lots of individual and shared thoughts among faculty and staff, the central thought among us was the same, the cry of “Lord, have mercy.”

I’ll leave the temporal search for the “why” to the politicians, medical professionals, sociologists, and others to explore. There will be arguments about red flag laws, transgender rights and care, guns, and the need for better mental health care in our country. As our oldest daughter is fond of saying, “That’s not 100% right, but it’s not 100% wrong, either.” They may wind up getting to the heart of the issue, but they will never get to the actual heart of the problem. In other words, they will address the symptoms but they will never address the illness. God provides the diagnosis: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places,” (Eph. 6:2). This is a cosmic battle, satan and his minions of the world and man’s sinful flesh, their desire to destroy both temporally and eternally against God and His loving mercy, always inclined to rescue and save.

People say, “the world is getting worse.” I don’t think so. It’s that we see it, we hear it immediately. Already in Genesis 6, Moses reports that “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually,” (Genesis 6:5). Jesus echoed this, saying, “For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness,” (Mark 7:21-22). 

So, when terrible and violent things happen, we – sadly – shouldn’t be surprised. Consider how our world, our culture, our society treats life. From abortion to euthanasia, society has cheapened life to the point that life is a commodity. A mother is told that her baby will be an inconvenience because it has potential genetic issues and is advised to terminate the life. An elderly person is afraid of being an inconvenient burden to loved ones and choses to take a one-way euthanasia vacation. A punk sees a box for a large screen TV at the garbage can at the curb and decides he’s going to get it for himself, and if the homeowner tries to stop him, well, that’s too bad for him. And a person, so filled with rage and hatred, overwhelmed by satan’s lies and fury against God’s gift of life for himself and others, somehow decides that killing is his only way of making things better.

It didn’t take long, Wednesday, for the politicians and pundits to start using the very tired and very blasé phrase about “thoughts and prayers.” To be clear and to be fair, they might be very sincere people who mean those words sincerely, but in the moment, because of both overuse and because of the ache we feel of wanting to do something, anything, the offer of thoughts and prayers seems trite. I hate to admit it, but I have used the phrase myself, only to realize just how empty it sounds. But when a community has been washed away by flash flooding, or blown away from a hurricane, or shredded by gunfire, in the moment, I can’t fix that. That is all I have: my thoughts and prayers.

I found myself reflecting on Psalm 50 the last few days. Psalm 50 is a beautiful Psalm, written by one of King David’s musicians named Asaph. The Psalm speaks to what true worship and sacrifice is, contrasting that of God’s people to the false religions. Where God’s people receive God’s mercy and grace and respond with prayers, praises and thanksgiving. At the same time, God’s people cry out to God for His continued mercy and grace, especially in the face of attacks by their enemy. In the Psalm, God promises that His judgement against Israel, His people, will couched by trusting His mercy and grace and love for His people, where His judgement against the world will have no such buffer. Instead, they will be judged by what they have done and haven’t done.

In the middle of the Psalm, between God’s promise for Israel and His warning to the world, lies this beautiful word of encouragement and hope: “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you and you will glorify me.” In our times of trouble and distress, God invites His people to call upon Him for deliverance.

Wednesday morning, God’s people were praying at Ascension Catholic School. Wednesday morning, God’s people were praying at St. Paul’s Lutheran School. Wednesday morning, God’s people across the world were praying in their homes and businesses, in hospital beds and in living room rocking chairs, in shelters and in five-star hotels. In all kinds of trouble, from health concerns to homeless needs; from bankruptcy to broken contracts; from shattered marriages to prodigal children, from a bullet-ridden sanctuary and from an damp music room in our basement, God’s people were carrying their troubles to the merciful ears of God. And, in His own, perfect will, in His own perfect way that we do not, that we cannot always see or begin to understand, He was answering - and continues to answer - the prayers of His people. 

“If God was listening, why wasn’t He doing something?” people ask. They are quick to offer explanations. “Either He really isn’t loving, like you Christians say, and He doesn’t care what happens, or He is incapable of stopping evil and He is as impotent as a telephone pole.” Two answers… First, it’s a false dichotomy. God doesn’t function with a “if not this, then that,” way of acting – and, certainly not when it is according to our standards. Second, God was answering prayers. Our problem is that we are very near-sighted. We expect answers now, immediately, as we expect them to be answered – if not today or tomorrow, then at least by the end of the week. We miss what is in the distance. God sees today and tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow, seeing into eternity.  So, whether the comments were made by well-intended but misinformed Christians, or were made by combative media, they miss the obvious. As people were praying, “Lord have mercy,” from their sanctuary floor, God was answering many prayers by sparing lives. He answered prayers by teachers and students sheltering each other from harm and danger. God answered prayers with the first responders who arrived to help the wounded and dying, potentially putting themselves in harm’s way. He was answering prayers of all those in trouble, whether in a home or business, a hospital bed or rocking chair, in a shelter or a 5-star hotel. He was answering in His perfect way, according to His will, sometimes in ways that we can only begin to understand later, through eyes of faith.

That’s hard because prayer is an act of faith. “Thy will be done,” God’s will, takes us out of the picture. Our ability, our response, our wanting to do something are removed from the equation and places everything at the foot of Jesus. Yet and still, our human condition wants to do something, anything. So, I can empathize with Jen Psaki, former White House spokesperson and now MSNBC reporter, when she exploded and said, “Prayer is not freaking enough,” she wrote, and went on to say prayer doesn’t stop these kind of actions.

As a father and grandfather to be, as the husband of a school administrator, as the pastor serving in a school full of kids, I get it. There is part of me that wants to strap up and stand a post, to buy my wife a Kevlar coat, and armor plate our sanctuary. But, remember, the hearts of man are inclined to evil. What stops one evil heart, another evil heart will find a way to do harm somehow. So, I do what I am called to do in this vocation of calling upon the Lord in these grey and latter days of trouble.

Ms. Psaki was right about one thing: prayer is not enough. Prayer is not enough. But Christian prayer is never an end to itself. Prayer is grounded in the mercy of God, that He will hear and He will answer. And, the mercy of God is always grounded in the cross of Jesus.

Remember, I said the problem, the diagnosis is the sinful hearts of man, that man is inclined to evil. God chose to rescue His people from the evil of man’s hearts through His Son, Jesus Christ, whose heart was pure, sinless and holy. He sent His Son, in flesh, to live among us. He experienced Himself the evil inclination of man’s heart. He faced jealousy of the Jewish leaders. He experienced hatred of those whom He showed love. He was called demon-possessed for driving demons out of people under satan’s control. The people were going to take Him and stone Him because He didn’t do what they wanted Him to do. He was mocked, scorned, and vilified. People lied about Him, laughed at Him, and finally, condemned Him to die. They crucified Him, a death so torturous that we still use the word today to describe insufferable pain: excruciating – ex crucis, from the cross.

From the cross, having absorbed the full hatred of man’s hearts, our Lord called out to His Father in trouble. Remember, prayer is grounded in the mercy of God, and Christ’s prayers and words were rich in mercy towards those wicked and evil hearts: Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. For the prayer of the repentant thief, crying out in his trouble, the Lord’s of mercy was beautiful: Today, you will be with me in paradise. Even in His Father’s silence, Jesus trusted God’s promise. God’s pledge in the Psalm, “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you and you will glorify me,” is complete at the cross.

Back in 2008, seventeen years ago, we were still living in the Houston area when Hurricane Ike came ashore. We chose to stay and ride it out. As the winds were roaring outside, we had the radio on, listening to the news reports. It was a day of trouble, I assure you, and the prayers of many, many faithful people were ascending because that was all you could do – for yourself, for the people calling the radio station asking “What do I do?”, for the first responders who were eager to start responding. The storm was awful, causing almost 200 fatalities and millions and millions of dollars of damage.

A few weeks later, we had a work-day at our church. An old, standing, dead cedar tree had been blown down in the wind and I salvaged a chunk of that old tree. From it, I made this cross. It hangs on my wall in my study, a reminder that our troubles and sufferings are carried to the Lord through the cross of Jesus. But, I want you to notice that the arms of the cross aren’t neat and clean. They are rough, with broken edges. I made it that way on purpose, to remind me that this side of heaven, we are still waiting for God’s deliverance, won at the cross, to be consummated, fulfilled, completed on the day when Christ returns. Until then, life is still sometimes a bit rough, but it is always lived under the sure and certain hope in the cross of Jesus.

Last Wednesday, at Ascension Catholic School in Minneapolis, MN, we had a terrible reminder of that hardness and difficulty of life, this side of heaven.

But even though we see through the lens darkly, we trust the promise of God that He will deliver us into eternity. Both now, and forevermore, we give Him thanks and praise through Christ, our Lord.

Amen.