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The Sixth Sunday After Epiphany
Clothed With JoyGrace and peace to you. Have you ever seen a youngster who obviously dressed him or herself? My friend, Keri, lets her six-year-old daughter, Gwyn, have some say in what she wears. And it shows. But Gwyn is happy with her unique sense of style. And Keri is happy by not making it a battle. Young people aren’t the only ones who are known for unique clothing. There is a rather wellknown poem that begins,“When I am an old woman I shall wear purple… with a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.” Since the poem was published in 1987, chapters of the Red Hat Society have sprung up all over the country. To join this elite group, one must simply be a woman over 50 who will go out in public wearing some sort of ghastly red hat. The clothing may be unusual; yet, whenever I’ve seen a woman dressed in “Red Hat” uniform, she’s always been happy. I thought about our six-year-old friend and the Red Hat Ladies when I read verse 11 of today’s psalm. The author praises God saying,“You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy… ” If you want to see something “clothed in joy,” go visit Pastor Brad’s new office. He moved down the hall to make way for the elevator and, in the interest of a quick turn-around, Pastor Brad picked out his own paint colors. Knowing and loving Pastor Brad as we all do, what do you think he chose? Something neutral like beige? Some sort of white? Even a soft yellow? Oh, no. Pastor Brad chose to paint his new space pink and blue. He knows I’m talking about him this weekend (it’s no fun to do it behind his back), so he insisted I tell you it’s not pink and blue, it’s “Bottle of Bordeaux” and “Clearest Ocean Blue.” Whatever you call those colors, several people have told him that you need sunglasses and a sense of humor in that office. We’ve had a lot of fun with this, as you can tell. But now… in all honesty… he does have an eye for color… and, believe it or not, it does look good… and, above all, he’s happy. Pastor Brad and his new space are “clothed in joy.” It’s a nice image, isn’t it? To be “clothed in joy?” Particularly if it’s not in a naïve or Pollyanna sort of way, but a joy that springs from trust, hope, gratitude and a zest for life. That’s certainly the case in this psalm. It’s an ancient song of thanksgiving and praise written by someone who has known hardship and hurt and come out on the other side. Far from being naive or Pollyanna, this psalm is often read on Easter. It’s a bit unusual to have an Easter text assigned to this time of year and yet, in these difficult times, maybe an Easter text is exactly what we need. As we were putting together the bulletins and assembling the prayer requests in the office this week, we were talking about how there has been a lot of hardship and hurt lately. In the last several weeks, one of you told me that 30% of your company’s work force has been laid off. Prayers have been requested for all manner of people with all sorts of serious illnesses… leukemia, aneurisms, cancer. And, grief struck last week when a daughter of St. Paul’s buried her 42-year-old beau who had died suddenly from an apparent heart attack. There have been a lot of days lately when sackcloth… a garment of grief… has been appropriate. Fortunately, Scripture never denies the reality of hardship and hurt or promises us anything different. Yet, it also promises that sackcloth… grief… hardship… do not have the final word. Just as Psalm 30 says, we’ll wear sackcloth for awhile, but we hold fast to the promise that God will take off our sackcloth and clothe us with joy. Several years ago I met the Parkers. They were hard to miss in worship… not only because there were eight adult children, most of whom still worshipped with Mom and Dad… not only because there were I-don’t-know-how-many grandchildren in tow… but also because all of the women in the family wore hats. No, they weren’t red (they weren’t Red Hat Ladies); usually they were black. They wore them every week… rain or shine, summer or winter. It’s not very politically correct to ask about a person’s clothing, so it took several weeks to find out that Mom was being treated for breast cancer. Once Mom’s hair fell out and she began to wear a hat, so did all the girls. As I said, sometimes sackcloth is appropriate and, maybe because the hats were black, they struck me as a sign of the struggle… the hardship and the hurt that the family was going through. I can’t tell you exactly when it happened… I can only tell you that one day the hats were gone. Thanks to modern medicine, the support of a loving family, and the wider arms of a community of faith,Alberta-Jo came out on the other side. There was great rejoicing, especially among all the Parker woman, who not only stopped wearing hats, but also “clothed themselves with joy” in a rather unique way. Each Parker woman got a pink ribbon tattooed somewhere on her body. Some were more visible than others (if you know what I mean) but each Parker woman had clothed herself with a permanent symbol of joy. Had I thought of it then, I might have framed the last few verses of Psalm 30 for each of them,“You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.” Of course, things don’t always turn out that nicely. People aren’t always healed in the same manner as Alberta-Jo Parker. Yet, there is a sense in which an Easter text like this is true for each of us. And so as we listen to the evening news… and read the weekly prayer requests… may we acknowledge the hardship and hurt in each others’ lives… wearing sackcloth when a garment of grief is called for. At the same time, may we hold tightly to the promise of Scripture and remind each other of the words of Psalm 30. There will a time when each of us, along with the psalmist, will say,“You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.” Gracious God, you know the hurts and the heartache each one of us feels right now. Walk with us through these moments… comfort us… calm us… give us courage and strength. Help us walk with each other and give each other comfort and strength. Through it all, help us hold firmly to your promises and your hope so that we may find joy somewhere deep within us. When we do, allow this joy to be the words that we sing and the clothing that we wear, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. |
St. Paul's Lutheran Church § 824 N. Lewis § Waukegan IL |
