From the Organ Bench

Psalm 34
Once upon a time, when I was in undergraduate school, I had an organ position
at a rather large church in the university district. The parish was operated by a
religious order of priests and brothers. One Sunday, at the last Mass, I noticed a
young mother with two small children. She carried one of them on her hip and the
older child clung to her leg as she as she made her way to the altar rail during the
communion procession. After Mass,
I went to the adjoining rectory to drop off the music list for the following week. As
I was standing in the hallway, talking to the friar, the front door bell rang. The
cleric excused himself and answered the door. Framed in the noonday sunlight
stood the woman with her two little lion cubs. Speaking in a low, soft voice, she
was politely asking for a few dollars to buy milk for the babies.
To my horror, the priest told her that she would have to come back on Tuesday.
That’s when they took care of “those types of things.” From the hallway I could see
other friars counting the collection. The cash was stacked high on the massive
mahogany table. The priest closed the front door and started to resume our
conversation about “sacred music”. “Here’s the list. See ya next week,” I snapped.
I left the rectory and hurriedly walked down the street catching up with the trio.
“Hey kids! Do you want to go on a treasure hunt?” I asked. We walked around
campus looking for discarded soda bottles. Bach and Buxtehude were making room
for Dr. Pepper in my organ bag.

Today’s psalm is a song of thanksgiving. It is a song of hope. Each verse of the

poetic prayer begins with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Psalm 34 is loaded
with theological concepts. Unfortunately, we do not have the complete text in
today’s lectionary selection. However, the sung response is a secure hook upon
which we can hang our hat.
The Lord hears the cry of the poor.
The Hebrews considered hearing to be an important aspect of the entire self.
The idea that the body is comprised of a muscle system, nervous system, skeleton
system, individual organs, etc. did not exist. When we think of hearing, we
concentrate on how the ear and entire audio system works together. An audiologist
is not concerned with how your personality affects your hearing. One would not
complain to a doctor, “I am having a hard time hearing because my elbow is stiff.”
This was precisely the view in ancient Israel. The whole body was in concert with
one’s personality and perceptions. When the ear was engaged in the process of
hearing words, the rest of the body was also participating in the audio activity. The
psalmist could suggest, just by using ears, to
(v.8) Taste and see that the Lord is good.
Behavior was viewed as the conclusion of the hearing process. The spoken word,
received by the hearer, elicited a response, a call to either active or passive reaction.
Jesus, years later, would chide the religious elite for having ears and not hearing.
Their ears were not open to receive the Word of God. Thus, their piety was deafly
shallow.

Who are the poor? Throughout the Psalter, the poor are contrasted with the rich.
The poor are those who are humble, hard working, and depend upon the LORD for
everything. They are good people, striving to live in covenant with the God of
Israel.
Unlike the rich, who are arrogant, greedy and show contempt for those folks who
haven’t made it in the world, the poor seek the Lord. Often the poor suffer
hardships inflicted by the rich. The rich, weighted down with their wealth and self-
importance, have heavy, dull ears. The poor stand before the Lord with empty
hands ready to receive the blessings of grace. The poor stand before the Lord with
broken hearts ready for healing. The poor can find sanctuary and refuge in the Lord
(v.8). The poor are the righteous.

The Young lions suffer want and hunger;

But those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. (v.10)
On that sunny autumn afternoon, the treasure hunt yielded enough money to buy
milk, cereal, bread and peanut butter. There were even enough coins to get two
soft-swirl ice cream cones for the youngsters. I waved good-by as I hopped a bus
for the dorm.
Recently, I visited that church. It was now abandoned. The windows were
broken and boarded up with weathered sheets of plywood. Some of the wooden
slats had been spray-painted with “psalms” of a different sort. The massive front
door of the church was overrun with vines and weeds. The city building inspector
had posted a condemned sign on the porch of the rectory. Imagine that!

The Lord still hears the cry of the poor.

Delma Rouleau
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2010