Tear Down Those Walls

Pentecost 9, August 14 2011


Genesis 45:1-15

Psalm 133 from BCP

Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32

Matthew 15:10-28

Last year, Grace Anglican Church was involved in a project at the Boise Rescue Mission. Several of our parish donated time, money and muscle to remodeling and furnishing a room at the mission on the Veteran’s wing. The new room had shelves and cabinets custom made, walls painted, curtains hung, furniture moved in along with bedspread, pillows and pictures on the wall. This new room had a new and different feel all its own. It is still at the mission, on the same hall, probably with the same door as all the other rooms and the same walls, but it is a new creation.

Walls serve many import practical purposes. They provide protection from elements and enemies, they reflect sound and light, and give us a place to hang our pictures. They provide a rich metaphoric purpose, as well. Whenever people are divided by race or religion, culture or custom, we inevitably turn to “wall-talk” to describe the situation. And how vivid the image is in our minds whenever we hear of walls coming down.

Jesus tore down many walls during His earthly ministry. This Sunday’s gospel tells of a particularly tough wall, breaking it down gives a new, panoramic view of His ministry. Jesus and His disciples are confronted by a woman who requests healing for her daughter. That should sound familiar, for such requests are plentiful in the Gospels. But this woman is a Canaanite, and one of the thickest, tallest walls in all history existed between her people and the Jews. The disciples knew of this wall, and they presumed it was impenetrable. “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us,” they plead. Jesus’ response is also shocking. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” He says, defending His refusal. But she persists, provoking an even more scandalous response from Jesus, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Was He serious in His protests? Were there other incidents, perhaps unrecorded, where He refused healing when He was asked? Did He actually change His mind? Was He playing along just to make a point?

Perhaps those questions will be answered in the Sunday sermon. What we will note here is how her clever response caused Jesus to pronounce her faith great and her daughter healed. This episode signifies walls of huge proportions being scaled, shot full of holes, and brought crashing to the ground. The walls of racism, classism, sexism, and sectarianism have their very foundations undermined by this outrageous act of Christ.

Many of those same walls are still standing, we argue, and some seem stronger and taller than ever before. We may sing and hope for a world described in John Oxenham's hymn:

In Christ now meet both east and west,

In Him meet south and north;

All Christly souls are one in Him

Throughout the whole wide earth.

                                  “In Christ There Is No East or West”

But are we naïve or even mistaken to believe it?



The processional hymn at Grace Anglican Church on Sunday will be Praise My Soul the King of Heaven, written in 1834 by Henry Francis Lyte. This wonderful hymn is paired because of the message of God’s grace as it relates to the Epistle reading for Sunday. It is based on Psalm 103 and was chosen by Princess Elizabeth, now Queen Elizabeth II, for her wedding hymn in Westminster Abbey on November 20, 1947—the one hundredth anniversary of Lyte’s death.

If you’d like to spend the night in the home of one of England’s greatest hymnists, reserve a room at the elegant Berry Head Hotel in Brixham, on England’s southern coast. Years ago, this was the home of Henry Lyte, the author of our opening hymn as well as Abide with Me, Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken, and God of Mercy, God of Grace, all hymns we have in our Hymnal ’82 and have sung at Grace Anglican Church. For twenty-three years, Henry pastored the local church in Brixham, on the “English Riviera.” How Henry and his wife, Anne, acquired this elegant estate is something of a mystery, but it was most likely provided for the by the King of England in appreciation for Henry’s ministry. The estate was at water’s edge, and there in the tranquility of that house and grounds Henry wrote most of his sermons, poems and hymns.



The Old Testament reading will be more of the story of Joseph and how he confronted his brothers when he made himself known to them after they had sold him into slavery. When he asks if his father is still alive they cannot answer him, they were so dismayed at his presence. But, Joseph tells them not to be distressed or angry with themselves because God had sent him to preserve life during the great famine across the land. Surely Joseph, himself, marveled that God Moves In A Mysterious Way, His Wonders to Perform. We sing this hymn by William Cowper, as our sequence hymn this Sunday.

William was born in Hertforshire, England on November 26, 1731. He pronounced his name Cooper, as did his forbears (his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather was lord mayor of London in the mid-sixteenth century). When Cowper was only 6 years old, his mother died; this upset his highly strung and sensitive nature, all the more so as he was sent to a boarding school at Markyate, where he was mercilessly bullied. He suffered bouts of depression all his life. He eventually moved to Olney in Buckinghamshire, where John Newton was the Anglican curate. Cowper recovered and collaborated with Newton, whom he assisted in his ministry; 348 Olney hymns (68 by Cowper) were composed and used in their revival meetings in the town.

O Zion Haste will be our recessional hymn and the words that will send us out into the streets of Boise. Untold numbers of missionaries have been sent off to the regions beyond by congregations singing this rousing Episcopalian missionary hymn that exhorts the church (“Zion”) to hurry and fulfill its mission of telling “all the world that God is light.” But few realize it was written by a worried mother sitting at the bedside of her dangerously ill son. Mary Ann Fulkner was born in London in 1834 and her family immigrated to America when she was young. After marrying John Thomson, the first librarian of the Free Library in Philadelphia, she and her husband joined the Episcopalian church in Philadelphia, where they served many years. This is what she had to say about writing her most famous hymn:

“I wrote the greater part of the hymn “O Sion Haste,” in the year 1868. I had written many hymns before, and one night, while I was sitting up with one of my children who was ill with typhoid fever, I thought I should like to write a missionary hymn…..I left the hymn unfinished and about three years later I finished it by writing the refrain which now forms a part of it.”

The singers in the Lofty Pews will chant a short Psalm 133 in Anglican Chant SATB. The anthem during Eucharist will be a more contemporary (1923) and favorite hymn of many, Great Is Thy Faithfulness, by Thomas Obediah Chisholm.

Here I’ve placed a link to a mixed quartet in a small liturgical church singing this wonderful hymn.

http://youtu.be/ZUwKbD0x7J0



Thomas was born in a log cabin in Kentucky. At age 16, he began teaching school, despite the paucity of his own education. His health was unstable and he alternated between bouts of illness and gainful employment. Through all the ups and downs, he discovered new blessings from God every morning. Thomas sent several poems to his friend, musician William Runyan, who was so moved by the words of this hymn that he prayed earnestly for special guidance in composing the music. Eventually, it became an unofficial theme song for the Moody Bible Institute of Chicago. Still, it remained relatively unknown until popularized around the world by George Beverly Shea and the choirs at Billy Graham Crusades.

The music of hymnody often carries comforting words to remind us of Christ’s enduring mercy. Sometimes these words are only remembered by singing them. I am transported back to my childhood by this wonderful hymn sung at my grandfather funeral in 1957 when I was only 8 years old.

The world that does not recognize Christ is also yet unaware that its walls are hollow. The chipping away goes slowly, it seems. But every deed of mercy done in Christ’s name loosens a stone or two. Every note of music that proclaims God’s way over the world’s way leaves a dent in the plaster. The barriers are doomed; we can live as if they don’t exist, walking freely the paths cleared by the wall-demolishing Christ. The new room looks marvelous, and the possibilities it opens up are exhilarating!



Sources:


Youtube


A Treasury of Hymns


Tune My Heart to Sing


Then Sings My Soul


Companion to the SDA Hymnal


Hymnal ’82 Companion