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Only Say the Word

When he entered Capernaum, a centurion came forward to him, appealing to him, “Lord, my servant is lying paralysed at home, suffering terribly.” And he said to him, “I will come and heal him.” But the centurion replied, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Matthew 8.5-8.

It’s become part of our everyday speech, hasn’t it? “You only have to say the word and I’ll be there.” “You only have to say the word and I’ll phone her.” But here, in the original use of the expression, “the word” is the dynamic, irresistible, word of Jesus … the word of the Lord. And Psalm 33.6 tells me all about that word: “By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host.”

Somehow, the Roman soldier in this morning’s reading had made something of that connection between the word of the one who called the universe into being and the word of the Rabbi from Nazareth, Jesus, who was standing there, right in front of him. So … “What need is there for you to come to my house,” he says. “When you speak, your word carries the weight of God Almighty so it cannot fail to achieve what it commands. Time and space are irrelevant. Your word carries within itself the performance of what it speaks.”

In the beginning God said “Let there be light,” and there was light (Genesis 1.3). In the Hebrew, his words were yehiy ‘or which were translated into Latin as fiat lux. This is the “divine fiat” — the word of God that is charged with creative and restorative power and energy. As the Lord himself puts it: “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it” (Isaiah 55.10-11).

Throughout the gospels, we hear that word going out of Jesus mouth, never failing to accomplish that which he purposes, and always succeeding in the thing for which he sends it. “Talitha cumi,” he says to the lifeless body of Jairus’ daughter — “Little girl, I say to you, arise,” and immediately the girl gets up and begins walking (Matthew 5.41). “Lazarus, come out,” he shouts in the Bethany Cemetery and “the man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth” (John 11.44).

So what do I want Jesus to say to me today? What is the divine fiat that I need to restore me to what God wants me to be and to enable me to fulfil the purposes he has for me?

“Lord … only say the word.”

A New Song

Oh sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth! Sing to the LORD, bless his name; tell of his salvation from day to day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvellous works among all the peoples! For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised. Psalm 96.1-4a.

As I read these words this morning, it struck me how often the songs that I sing to the Lord are old songs. I don’t mean that I spend my times of worship singing him only 18th and 19th century hymns. I mean that all too often I praise him for the same old things in the same old perfunctory kind of way without there being any freshness (the Hebrew word chadash that is translated “new” carries the sense of “fresh”) or re-awakened wonder in my praise.

But according to the psalmist, old songs will really not do and a new song is called for. He tells me to sing a new song not only here but in Psalm 33.3, Psalm 98.1 and in Psalm 149.1. He says that he himself will sing a new song in Psalm 144.9. And in Psalm 40.1-3 he tells me where new songs come from: “I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.” New songs are songs of the Spirit, outpourings of praise and worship composed and orchestrated by him in my heart so that they can be given voice to by my mouth.

When the twenty-four elders and then the 144,000 sing “a new song” in heaven (Revelation 5.9, 14.3) it is a kainos song, not a neos song. In Greek there are two words for “new”: neos means new in point of time but kainos means new in point of character and nature and substance. Again it is freshness and originality that is being stressed. It is a song that “no one could learn” (Revelation 14.3). It is a “given” song that comes to our lips as the Spirit shows us (according to this morning’s reading) the wonder of God’s salvation — his work of deliverance and restoration in our lives, his glory — the splendour of his presence and his love, and his marvellous works — the awesomeness of the created universe and the awesomeness of what he does in human lives.

So … time to end this post and time to let the Spirit open my eyes to something wonderfully fresh about our Lord and Saviour and to create a new song in my heart with which I can praise him and worship him this morning.

O Lord have mercy on me, and heal me;
O Lord have mercy on me, and free me.
Place my feet upon a rock,
put a new song in my heart, in my heart,
O Lord have mercy on me.

O Lord may Your love and Your grace protect me;
O Lord may Your ways and Your truth direct me.
Place my feet upon a rock,
put a new song in my heart, in my heart,
O Lord have mercy on me.

Place my feet upon a rock,
put a new song in my heart, in my heart,
O Lord have mercy on me,
O Lord have mercy on me, on me.

Carl Tuttle

No Footprints

When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side. The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook. Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen. Psalm 77.16-19.

In the film “City of Angels” there is a scene I particularly like where angels are walking along the beach at what I think must be Santa Monica, but the impressions of their feet in the wet sand vanish as quickly as they are made. Angels have indeed passed along the beach but they have left no footprints. “And so it was,” says the Psalmist, “when God led the Children of Israel through the Red Sea. He was surely there, leading the way, else the waters of the sea would never have reared up and formed a way of escape for the Israelites fleeing from the Egyptians, but God left no footprints in the soft, damp earth of the seabed. Their deliverance itself was the sign of his presence.”

I am struck by the simple thought this morning that so it has been in my own life. Almost every morning, I begin my prayer time with the Third Collect at Morning Prayer from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer:

O Lord our heavenly Father,
almighty and everlasting God,
who hast safely brought us to the beginning of this day;
defend us in the same with thy mighty power;
and grant that this day we fall into no sin,
neither run into any kind of danger,
but that all our doings may be ordered by thy governance,
to do always that is righteous in thy sight;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

By so doing, I begin every day with a celebration of God’s deliverance. This morning, just like every morning since I became a Christian, I am able to begin my prayers with the thanksgiving that he has “brought me safely to the beginning of this day.” There were no footprints for me to follow yesterday or the day before or the day before that; but the waters parted for me yesterday as they have parted for me every day of my life and the unseen God who is my Lord and Saviour has led me through to dry ground.

Interestingly, the Hebrew word translated “path” in this morning’s reading (shabiyl) is actually in the plural — “Your way was through the sea, your paths through the great waters” — and this has led some rabbinic commentators to suggest that there were in fact twelve paths through the Red Sea, one for each of the tribes of Israel. This, they say, is also suggested by Psalm 136.13 where the literal translation of the Hebrew text is that God divided the Red Sea into “parts” rather than into just the “two” spoken of by most translations. Why interesting? Because the path God makes for me is not the path he makes for you. My path is unique and so is yours. I do not know what this day holds but I do know that the Lord is already ahead of me, opening up a special way through it for me and me alone — even though I cannot see his footprints.

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