Psalm 51: The Church's Song in praise of God's Forgiveness

For example the choir sings an anthem, the ushers are busy receiving the offering, and the pastor is preparing for the Holy Communion all at the same time.

In the middle of their liturgy, our Eastern Orthodox brethren sing the Cherubic hymn, a text which they have sung for 1,500 years of more.

So that as God begins to make himself known in the Holy Communion, the people sing:

Let us who mystically represent the cherubim and sing the thrice-holy hymn to the life-creating Trinity, now lay aside all earthly cares, that we may receive the King of all, who comes invisibly carried upon the angelic host.

At the same time, the priest is getting ready for the Offertory procession.

Two different yet related things are happening concurrently.

Even though we are supposed to be patterning ourselves on this work of the cherubim, in actuality things are much different.

We could well sing the words of Isaiah's lament: Woe is me, for I am undone. I am a man of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips....[Isaiah 6:5]

But because God chose Isaiah and us, we are nonetheless able to see and hear what God will have us know, and to join the angels' song: Holy Holy holy is the Lord the almighty.

We can have these two concepts going on inside our heads at the same time.

Both the majestic holiness of God as well as our own unworthiness.

We're fooling only ourselves where we try to limit the scope of the law so that we can measure ourselves better in comparison to it.

That was the Pharisee's game, to try to write specifications or explanations of the law in such a way that they could give themselves a passing grade.

Let's try it:

the Fifth Commandment...thou shalt not kill...well, I haven't murdered anyone today, so therefore I've kept the commandment and can give myself a nice check-mark beside it.

Our friend Martin Luther said that we shouldn't jump to that conclusion so easily.

Even though we may not have murdered anyone yet today, we need to turn the question to the positive side and ask if we have not only not harmed someone, but have we helped our neighbor in his or her every need.

And we know how much the Pharisee inside each of us wants to limit the question of who is my neighbor.

No limits, Jesus means for us to know.

No wiggling out of this easily.

Job tried that.

For many chapters Job maintains his innocence to his so-called friends.

He claimed to be pure, to be suffering unjustly, and that he did not deserve to be punished.

Finally the Lord has heard enough and he asks Job, “Where were you when the foundations of the earth were laid?

Who are you to counsel by words without knowledge?

Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place?

The Lord thunders on like this for three full chapters, until at last Job quietly replies “I am of small account; I lay my hand upon my mouth.”

At last he realizes that he has nowhere to hide, that he is standing naked before the Holy One, that he cannot claim innocence or purity of conscience.

He must simply repent.

We cannot measure ourselves only against a standard of law that we try to minimize, but we are measured against the overwhelming presence, holiness, and otherness of God himself.

Then we see and know how utterly sinful we are.

It is ironic that it is the song of an adulterer, playboy , and often self-centered king that we use today.

But then of course we know that each of us has also fallen into rebellion against God in so many ways, so that David's song truly can becomes ours as well.

Create in me a clean heart O God is not an imperious demand we make, but rather is the humble request we make when we have measured ourselves, our words, and our actions against the One who says I am the Lord your God; you shall have no other.

We join with David in praying:

Create in me a clean heart o God, and renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with your free Spirit.

It is the same kind of prayer we offer in the Holy Communion, in that third part of the Great Thanksgiving wherein we pray that the Spirit will see to it that our sharing of bread and wine will also be the sharing of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus.

We cannot make it happen; we call upon the Lord to fulfill his promises, even for us who are unworthy.

King David knew he was unworthy; he had pronounced the just outcome upon himself when he answered the prophet Nathan's question.

“You yourself are the guilty one,” the prophet had thundered.

Yes, he as the powerful king had fallen for the wiles of Bathsheba, had stolen her, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, and tried to cover it up by arranging the death of Uriah her husband.

“You are the one who deserves death,” the prophet had dared to say to his face.

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love, is the way the Psalm begins.

David dares to ask for mercy not on the basis of what he has done, for it has been fatally compromised, but on the basis of the nature of God himself, on his steadfast love for his people despite their waywardness.

And we along with David ask not once, but repeatedly as we sing Psalm 51.

Each time we encounter the holiness of God, we know that we cannot stand there on our own, but in humility and yet in confidence ask for his healing and life-giving word again this day.

This may be our prayer: Almighty and merciful Father, you freely forgive those who, as David of old, acknowledge and confess their sins. Create in us pure hearts, and wash away all our sins in the blood of your dear Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

And let all say Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.