Psalm 62 (links validated 1/10/24)

It’s a semi-trivial example but I like the scene in the movie Jaws in which the mayor of Amity Island—who will not admit that there is a dangerous killer shark trolling their shoreline—finally says something so ridiculous to the shark expert Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), who had been brought in to help, that Hooper can do no more than laugh and walk away. You can see that clip here. But overall this is a reminder that proud and arrogant but finally clueless people do not amount to much as Psalm 62 asserts, and perhaps laughing at them is the surest way to convey that. True, we need also to work at forgiving those who persecute us as Jesus said we must but in that process, better to laugh and walk away than engage in ways that will likely make us guilty of behaving in equally bad ways.

The Wartburg Castle is the formidable fortress in Eisenach, Germany in which Martin Luther’s protector, Frederick the Wise, sequestered him following Luther’s excommunication by Pope Leo X and his refusal to recant his heresy at the Diet of Worms. It provided a safe haven from his pursuers for Luther in which to translate the New Testament into German. The Wartburg Castle was, in fact, so formidable that it still stands today. But even there, Martin Luther didn’t feel completely protected. At least according to legend, the Reformer so acutely felt the devil’s attacks that he heaved an ink blot against a wall to try to chase him away. After all, while all sorts of fortresses may seem to offer us protection from our enemies, only God the Fortress can offer any real safety.

I have used this before in other sermon starters from passages that make a similar point but verse 9 of Psalm 62 reminds me of the end of the Harry Potter cycle of novels and films. From the beginning, the evil Lord Voldemort—he who must not be named—seemed beyond formidable. He was perhaps the most powerful wizard in the world and was certainly the most vicious and evil. He seemed invincible, even early on in the stories finding a way to come back from what looked like his death. He claimed he would live forever. But then in the end in the final battle with Harry Potter, Voldemort is suddenly defeated. Having quite literally had his soul chipped away through a series of events, in the end Voldemort was just nothing, a breath, a puff of air. And so when in their final battle Voldemort has his own death curse rebound upon himself, he just floats away. His entire body starts to waft into the wind like the ashes of a burned up newspaper. And just like that, he is gone, quite literally scattered to the winds. That is Psalm 62’s message about all those who fancy themselves as masters of the universe for now: in the end they will be revealed as being nothing at all. As insubstantial as the ash of a piece of burned paper.

This year the Third Sunday of Epiphany falls very close to the one-year anniversary of the Inauguration of President Trump back in 2017. It has been a tumultuous year for America and for the world. Whether you and your congregation are pro-Trump or anti, all of us will agree that Psalm 62 accurately captures the tone of our times—assaults, lies, cursing, hypocrisy, materialism, meanness, everyone trying to topple someone else. What a time to preach Psalm 62 with its invitation to rest in Christ alone!