"To you I lift up my eyes, *
to you enthroned in the heavens.
As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, *
and the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress,
So our eyes look to the LORD our God, *
until he show us his mercy.
Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy, *
for we have had more than enough of contempt,
Too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, *
and of the derision of the proud."
--Psalm 123
During that time I did what I do first thing each work day when I come to work: I prayed. I went into the sanctuary of our parish, sat in the second pew on the left (my family's pew in the church where I grew up), and read Morning Prayer. On Tuesday of last week one of the Psalms appointed was Psalm 123 – the same one that we read together in church on Sunday– and later that same day I made a post on social media asking: are there any better words right now for us in our country than the last two verses of this Psalm: “Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy, for we have had more than enough of contempt. Too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, and the derision of the proud.”
When something shows up in the readings twice in one week, I usually see that as a message from God that I sure better preach on it, which is exactly what I did on Sunday. The circumstances around the creation of this Psalm, this prayer for deliverance, are never stated. It’s generally understood to have been written during the period of Jewish exile in Babylon, when trust in God seemed to have failed, and scorn and contempt were all around. The prayer is a petition, an ask, one so sincere and fierce that the author makes it twice – have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy. And what IS this mercy? It is a free, undeserved act of enormous kindness, and it is the most often-repeated word in English translations of the Hebrew Bible. The Christian New Testament might, instead, use the word grace. Personally, I’ve always seen them as going hand-in-hand, the grace and mercy of God, undeserved, free gifts of God’s abundant kindness. This is what the Psalmist most needs and wants and counts on from God.
The Psalms are so wonderful because they speak to the whole human condition, and thus are timeless. How many of us, I wonder, have made similar pleas in recent weeks? We have had far too much of our share of contempt. The rich continue to be indolent; that is, averse to any activity or movement of change, filled with scorn at those who cry out for something different because it would mean losing their power, prestige, and possessions. The proud deride those who cry out for the indolent to be stirred out of their stubbornness, just as the prophets of old cried out. The rich keep getting richer with no consequence, while the proud remain so stubborn that they’ll go down with the ship. It’s not hard to find the similarities between what we’ve been seeing and what the Psalmist saw.
The remarkable claim of Psalm 123 - the "Good News," if you will - is that God’s mercy can override the contempt that we experience because that mercy is the only thing that is constant in such a struggle. It is a sense of God's presence and solidarity, a courageous refusal of the rich and proud, even when we are at our lowest points.
Our Gospel text on Sunday tied in nicely with the Psalm, as it portrayed Jesus at one his lowest points, being met with scorn and contempt from the very people that, one would think, knew him best:
'Jesus came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.
Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.'
--Mark 6: 1-13
How discouraging it must have been for Jesus to return to Nazareth, only for the folks there to ridicule him in such fashion: . Who is this, they say? Isn’t he one of Mary’s kids? Where does he get off thinking he can talk like this? They’re too proud to see Jesus as anything more than the little boy they once knew, and in Luke’s version of this story, they even try to kill him. That couldn't have been easy to take. Why couldn't they see what was actually going on around them?
When a leader gets discouraged, what happens to the ones following? No doubt the 12 were feeling pretty low at that point. How is this going to work if Jesus’ own people refuse to support him? Yet despite the rejection from his hometown, he withdraws and calls the 12 together and commissions them, sends them out – this is why they’re called apostles, because they are sent. Despite opposition, Jesus’ mission can and will regroup, refocus, and continue.
And how does he send them out? In pairs. No one goes alone. Not even Judas! That's because we can’t do the work of Jesus alone. We can’t preach love to a world filled with contempt, we can’t offer good news to the poor while the indolent rich remain in power, we can’t create something new as those stuck in their pride deride us – none of it can we do by ourselves, nor were ever meant to. He sent them out together for a reason, because they’re gonna need each other. You’re gonna need each other.
The road is tough at times; it was for those 12, why should we be any different. Like them, we go where Jesus directs us, like them we run into dangers, and like them we even find ourselves in abusive situations and relationships. But also like them, we are not meant to remain there, and like them, when we need to walk away and shake the dust off our feat as a testimony to such derision. But even that we do with the grace and mercy of God in our hearts. How? Through the Spirit that has marked us as Christ’s own forever, and though we may be dismissed by a harsh world, we trust in a different verdict, as confident of such a verdict from that same Spirit, as we are needful of it.
Times may be worrisome and downright scary. The path forward unclear, but God is good…all the time. We know this. Like the Psalmist we cry out for God’s mercy and deliverance and at the same time we do the work Jesus has sent us out to do. St. Augustine said to pray as if everything depended upon God but work as if everything depended upon us. This is precisely what we do, and this work is never done alone.
So take heart. Come what may, you have been given everything you need for the journey, including each other. And at the Table of the Lord we get food and drink to sustain us in that journey. This is the gift we receive so as to carry it and give it away. Despite opposition, the work of Jesus will always regroup, refocus, and continue. Trust in the God of love and grace, the God of deliverance and mercy, who, no matter what happens in the world around us, no matter how much scorn and contempt we must endure, always, always wins.
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