Home
Welcome
to Catalyst on-line. United Methodist (UM) seminarians have been receiving
Catalyst in their mail boxes since 1973.
What is Catalyst?
Four
issues of Catalyst are mailed each academic year to some 5,000 UM theological
students in more than 100 seminaries in the U.S.A.
AFTE
Catalyst
is a project of A Foundation for Theological Education (AFTE).
What is the John Wesley Fellowship Program?
Each
year AFTE awards up to five John Wesley Fellowships to assist gifted United
Methodists in their doctoral studies at the finest universities.
Back Issues
Several
back issues of Catalyst are now available on-line.
Subscriptions
Subscription
is free for UM seminarians, and is available to all others for $5 per year.
|
PREACHING FROM THE PSALMS: PROCLAMATION
PARTICULAR AND EXTREME
[Editor’s Note: This is the third of seven essays on the movement
from text to sermon, focused on the major genres found in the Bible. We see
this as a vitally important series, one that seeks to assist seminarians
in the homiletical process with an eye toward the embodiment of Scripture.
]
It is notoriously difficult to preach on the Psalms. Some think, moreover,
that it is inappropriate to try because the Psalms have a different, quite
distinct function in the liturgy. I am, nonetheless, assigned the topic,
so here are four thoughts on preaching the Psalms.
(1) The Psalms are poems of particularity and must not
be treated as a generic statement about the human condition. These are the
words, tried and tested, by persons in a particular community and pertain
only to those persons in that community. At the outset the preacher must
resist privatized interpretation.
The ones who speak here are Israelites who carry with them and bring
to expression the long experience and the myriad of remembered texts concerning
their life with God. The Psalter belongs in the OT and is surrounded by ancient
memories of rescue, treasured accounts of miracles and promises from God,
durable commands that have been variously honored and violated, and hopes
awaiting fruition. The Psalms are “thick” in the sense that all this accumulated
poignant reality is present in the utterance of the Psalms; and the preacher
must attend to all that thickness.
There is a powerful interpretive tradition that redeploys the Psalms as the
utterance of Jesus…the Son who loves the Father in praise, the
Son who suffers and who directs that suffering toward the Father. In such
christological utterances, Jesus relives and replicates the glorious, troubled
life of Israel with God.
When the preacher lines out these Psalms (as the voice of the church) for
the church, church people are understood as heirs and practitioners
of the faith of ancient Israel. The baptized thus become, at second hand,
the community of communion and obedience, of praise and defiance. Thus the
capacity to praise and to voice absence is done in the sermon along with
a cloud of witnesses who have uttered these words many times over before
us and found them adequate.
(2) I believe that preaching the Psalms requires that we
“narratize” the poetry. That is, either deliberately and carefully, or
inescapably and accidentally, the preacher will imagine the narrative context
in which the Psalm may have been uttered so that the utterance arises in
a particular context. The useful question to ask is, “Whose Psalm is this?”
“Who is speaking and in what circumstance?”
Scholars have been hypothesizing such putative contexts for a long time.
It is proposed that great hymns, especially so-called “Enthronement Hymns,”
are from a grand new year festival in the temple when the world begins again
in great joy. It is proposed that “Torah Psalms” may be in an instructional
situation, when the young learn the “ABC’s” of faith and life (thus, Psalm
119 as an acrostic Psalm). It is proposed that some of the Psalms of complaint
are spoken in a context of illness or from prison. This is, no doubt, the
reason why some Psalms are peculiarly powerful in a hospital setting.
Behind these scholarly guesses, the biblical text itself shows the process
of narratizing. The superscriptions in Psalms 3, 34, 51, 52, 54, 60, 63,
and 106, for example, connect the Psalms to the life of David. The best known
of these is Psalm 51, wherein the prayer of confession is connected to David’s
crisis concerning Uriah and Bathsheba. No critical scholar believes these
superscriptions are “historically accurate.” They are, however, later interpretive
clues for how Psalms might be read. By such superscription the Psalm is relocated,
in the imagination of Israel, into a particular circumstance of concrete
life.
But of course the Psalms are richly polyvalent and are not confined to one
circumstance. Thus the preacher may devise current “superscriptions”: Psalm
22 prayed, perhaps, by a person who has come to great shame in the neighborhood
when her child has deeply disappointed, Psalm 109 prayed, perhaps by a woman
who has been raped, who is fully in “touch with her anger,” or Psalm 29 prayed,
perhaps, in a rural church after a big May rain on the corn crop. The particularity
permits the poetry to become concrete, and lets the listening congregation
relate to that circumstance and then to hear in its own circumstance.
(3) A primal motif of the Psalms is praise, praise of
YHWH; that is, “Hallelujah.” Praise is a most characteristic practice
of ceding one’s life, one’s self, and one’s community over to the
subject (object?) of praise in glad self-abandonment. The praise uttered
may be as a review of past transformative actions by God in the life of the
community (cf. Pss 135-136) or naming characteristic acts of deliverance
that are named concretely but are given doxological expansiveness to make
particular miracles grand and overwhelming (Ps 114). Praise may be the naming
of particular personal transformations from death to life (cf. Ps 107) that
are summarized in more general participial assertions that YHWH does these
acts characteristically (Pss 103:3-5; 145:13-20a). Or praise may concern
YHWH’s most characteristic attribute of “steadfast love and faithfulness”
(Ps 117:2).
“To preach praise,” means to live out the script for praise, model
its utterance, empower the congregation to praise, and teach
what praise means as subversive action. Praise is a counter-cultural act
because dominant culture all around us urges self-control, self-actualization,
self-indulgence, and self-sufficiency. This way of life means to gather all
of self for self, to make one’s self the center of reality. Praise, by contrast,
is the glad yielding of self to this other one known in our memory. The preacher
invites the congregation to engage in a redefining act of counter-culture.
(4) The Psalter is filled out with numerous utterances of
lament and complaint that function as both petition and protest. These
Psalms form a radical counterpoint to the hymns, because in these poems the
speaker claims self, asserts self along with one’s needs, hurts, hates,
and fears. These Psalms speak out of a deep sense of entitlement. Because
of the long history of covenant with YHWH and the mutual promises made between
YHWH and Israel, Israel—and particular Israelites—have claims to make upon
YHWH. These Psalms are, to be sure, acts of catharsis whereby the truth is
told to the God from whom no secret can be hid. It is a common mistake, however,
to reduce these Psalms to catharsis in the assurance that, “You will feel
better if you let it out.” These Psalms, rather, are prayers of petition
from a ground of covenantal entitlement. These speakers dare to address God
in an imperative, to issue a command that is grounded in deep need and helplessness
along with deep faith. By lining out laments with narrative imagination,
the preacher models candor about hurt and hate—self-announcements in the
presence of God that are elemental for serious doxological faith.
The preacher, in most U.S. churches, preaches in a society of denial and
despair in which people grow numb and imagine that more commodities will
make us happy and safe. The preacher, from these texts of the Psalter, can
model and exemplify a more excellent way, lining out a life of faith that
is a vibrant dialectic of ceding and claiming. The preacher
invites baptized congregants to “listen in” on an old, thick, risky transaction
of God and God’s people. Such preaching is an offer of wonder in the face
of denial, an offer of buoyancy in the face of despair, an offer of communion
in the face of self-sufficiency. This alternative life is given in a particular
narrative from ancient times transposed by the preacher into a narrative
account of our own energizing of faith.
By Walter Bruegemann, author of The Psalms and the Life of Faith
(Fortress, 1995) and Spirituality of the Psalms (Fortress,
2001).
|