Sermon by Reverend Dr. John W. Mann | August 25, 2024

Psalm 4 & 1st John 3:1-3

Twenty-five years ago I had a paper route. I would go out every morning at 3:00 A.M. and deliver the Star Tribune Newspaper in Minneapolis. I was usually home by 5:30 A.M. and I would sleep for a couple of hours before engaging with other parts of my life. I decided that if my sleep was to be interrupted that I would make the best of it. I viewed the paper route as a form of daily exercise for which I got paid. Those early morning hours were also a great time for thinking.

Sometimes at 3:00 A.M. the problems we face are magnified. There is something about the middle of the night that brings our thoughts into sharp focus. I find that when I engage with the moment, problems are less worrisome. Worrying about sleep only makes sleep more elusive.

I’m always working on my next sermon. Sometimes good ideas occur at 3:00 A.M. I find that if I don’t worry about it, the next sermon will reveal itself. This week it comes through the Psalms – Psalm 4.

The Psalms are ancient poems, prayers and hymns. The people that wrote these words understood something about the human soul. They didn’t have the benefits of modern and post-modern medical science, sociology and psychiatry. But they understood the soul, that part of who we are that can’t be easily analyzed, packaged or contained. Whenever I think about Psalm 4, I think whoever wrote this was having a hard time sleeping at night. It impresses me as one of those dark nights of soul musings; the kind of script that runs through our head when we’re lying there awake at 3:00 A.M. when everything seems magnified in importance.

4:1 Answer me when I call, O God of my right!

Have you ever prayed a prayer that goes like this: Oh God (sigh). O God, I’m right, aren’t I. Aren’t I right? O God, what’s going to happen now? What’s going to become of me?

One time at 3:00 A.M. the police chief in St. Louis Park called me to say that one of his officers had killed himself. What struck me about that event was the hour. Whatever you think makes perfect sense to do at 3:00 A.M., wait and examine it in the light of day. When the poet is crying out, “Answer me, O God,” the answer is right there – “You gave me room when I was in distress.” You gave me room – room to think, room to breathe. You gave me room – room in which to feel safe.

We might pray or wish to be lifted up on eagle’s wings, somewhere far away from it all, above the fray and over the rainbow. The reality of God’s presence, from life in the margins is often simply the room, the space the margin of safety in which we deal with what we must deal with.

Sometimes at 3:00 A.M. we might think about other people and the conflicts we have with people can seem so magnified.

How does it feel to have your honor or integrity called into question? Basically, it boils down to our most painful memories from the playground. They can all be captured by one primary experience – You’re standing by the swings, minding your own business, trying to fit in and trying not to be noticed at the same time. You notice someone standing there. It’s the mean girl – it’s the bully – it’s the popular kid – the one you wish would be your friend.

He or she (however you recall it in your memories) comes up to you, looks you in the eye and says, “You stink.” And it all goes downhill from there.

You lay there in the middle of the night thinking, “How dare they!? The cheek of some people!” Those people at work who make life miserable for everyone; those neighbors; those so-called friends; those relatives; those people at church. Who do they think they are telling those lies about me?

I wonder who the poet was thinking of when writing the words, “How long, you people, shall my honor suffer shame? How long will you love vain words, and seek after lies?”

Usually there’s a well-meaning type of person to remind us, a teacher, parent, friend or preacher, “Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you.” The reality is, sticks and stones can break your bones and words can cut your heart out. Yeah, words can hurt big time.

We all recognize the power of language; so much so that there are laws against using words to abuse people. We recognize how a word can be a weapon. Words can wound and hurt. Healing can take a long time and the scars can remain as a reminder of that hurt.

When you’re lying there at 3:00 A.M. nursing your wounds, turning it over in your mind, it appears bigger than it is. We have a tendency then to demonize people. We strip from them any redeeming value and anything good and they become the devil in disguise.

We just wish they would go away. Leave us alone.

Have you ever shared something with a friend, someone you respect, whose opinion you value, and they have said, “I hear you,” or “I understand,” or “I know exactly what you mean;” and you know they do?

When someone hears you, understands you and knows what you mean, it gives you a sense of validation. It says, you are valued. You feel affirmed. That feeling often comes with a sense of relief, if not release. You feel vindicated, as a way of saying, “I was right, I was telling the truth, I wasn’t just imagining things – and people know it.”

The psalmist wrote, “But know that the LORD has set apart the faithful for himself; the LORD hears when I call to him.” Would it make any difference to know that God hears you? Would it make any difference to know that the Supreme being, the Creator of the Universe, the Almighty is the one saying, “I hear you,” or “I understand,” or “I know exactly what you mean?” 

The next time you find yourself wrestling with the dark night of the soul, consider that it might be in the silence that God is saying, “I hear you.”

You can sit down and write that letter at 3:00 A.M. telling your boss exactly what you think of her or him. Seal that envelope and put a stamp on it. But don’t post it just yet. And if you are inclined to communicate with email, instead of pushing the ‘send’ button, put it in a storage file. And if killing yourself seems like the thing to do at that hour, hold off on that as well.

The poet moves onto another step in the transition through the dark night of the soul in saying, “When you are disturbed, do not sin; ponder it on your beds, and be silent.” Don’t take that destructive action. Don’t grab the short-term pleasure that comes with the long-term regret. Hold off, ponder it, and be silent.

What does that mean, “be silent?” I take it to mean that to the best of our ability, we turn off the running commentary and the familiar script, and we listen to the silence. Sometimes we realize that people really aren’t talking about us as much as we think they are; they aren’t thinking about us as much as we think they are; they aren’t really plotting our destruction quite like we think they are.

In the silence, where God is listening, if we think, “But there’s nothing there,” we could be right. Much of the trouble we imagine is just that, our imagination. So what do you do? We want practical advice, preacher. Give us something we can apply to our lives. The poet offers this – 4:5 Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the LORD.

Offer a right sacrifice. But if there is a right sacrifice, there must be a wrong one as well. How do you tell the difference? One way to look at a sacrifice is as, “Somebody has to pay for this.” I could strike out at my adversaries, get revenge, and have the satisfaction of some decent payback. An eye for an eye and all that. That’s one kind of sacrifice; the spill some blood kind. And it works for a short while, for about as long as it takes us to realize nothing ever gets truly settled that way. Soon enough we need another scapegoat.

A right sacrifice can be to make an offering to God. It is to say, “I’m giving this to you, God. The pain, the frustration, the anger, the worry, all of it. I’m even giving over to you the people who come into my head at 3:00 A.M. and keep me from getting a good night’s sleep. It’s all yours – take it – and if I’ve forgotten anything, take that too.”

Sometimes, the best thing you can do is walk away. Let it go. Let God have it. The poet wrote – 4:6 There are many who say, “O that we might see some good! Let the light of your face shine on us, O LORD!” 4:7 You have put gladness in my heart more than when their grain and wine abound. 4:8 I will both lie down and sleep in peace; for you alone, O LORD, make me lie down in safety.”

It’s not an easy thing. At 3:00 A.M. when that old script is running, how do we grasp the value of something intangible? I’m probably leaving you with more questions than answers today, but that’s okay. Think about the questions.

The other part of my dialogue with scripture this week is just with the first part of verse one of 1^st John 3. I’m not going to chew on it like I did the Psalm. I’m going to give it you to think on. “3:1 See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”

See what love the Father has given you, that you should be called children of God; and that is what you are. And the next time you find yourself at 3:00 A.M. ready to travel into the dark night of the soul, put some gladness in your heart instead by thinking – “See what love the Father has given me, that I should be called a child of God; and that is what I am.”

Regardless of anything else, that is who you are. Amen.