God’s Rails Are Wide

Psalm 125

            Growing up, I lived near the Chicago-Northwestern railroad line.  Four to five times a day, the train would go through town.  Going uphill, it wasn’t unusual to see 4-5 engines straining to pull the loaded cars.  Going downhill, you wondered if the train was going to fly off the tracks because it was going so fast.  In the winter, they would put a huge V-snowplow on the train to clear the tracks.  In the summer, we thought we really saw something when we saw someone sleeping in an open box-car as it clickety-clacked on by. 

As kids, we got to know the schedule of the train so we knew when we could play on the tracks…and we did!  We picked up railroad spikes and made wind chimes for our mothers as bribery payoffs to reduce punishments for things we had done. 

But the biggest thing we did was play a game on the tracks to see how far you could walk on the rails without falling off.  The rules of this game were that you couldn’t physically touch the person on the rails, but you could do anything else to try and distract them.  We’d yell, “A train is coming!” or “Look at that dead raccoon!” to distract the one walking.  It took real concentration and focus to stay on the rails.  If you fell off, you had to start over and try again.

            A little over twenty years ago, the railroad abandoned this line because it wasn’t productive anymore.  Most of us from Steamboat Rock were saddened by this.  But this Summer, there is exciting news that the railroad is going to start using the line again.  Apparently all the ethanol produced in the area is going to be shipped by rail in the future.

            I want you to think about that game we used to play on the tracks – the one where you see how far you can walk without falling off.  Do you, or does anyone you know, view their spiritual life like this?[1]  Is being a follower of Jesus like wobbling along on a rail, focusing and trying to maintain your utmost attention while the devil taunts you and tries to make you fall off?  If you or anyone you know has ever felt that way before, it’s not a small club.  People experience tragedy and abandon God the things of God.  People reap a financial windfall and now there’s no time for God or the things of God.  And maybe it’s not all that extreme.  Maybe it’s just little moments through the day where a person “falls off the rails,” and then feels that he or she needs to start all over again.  If I were to ask people if they were (a) on the rails or (b) off the rails in their spiritual life, I’d bet the majority of folks would say they’re off the rails more than they’re on the rails.

            Psalm 125 is part of a grouping of psalms known as Songs of Ascents.[2]  These writings are meant to bolster the community of faith in the midst of challenging circumstances.  They seek to lift the spirits of the worshipping community.  In the imagery I’m using today, this psalm is used to help people keep walking on the rails even when they feel like they’re constantly falling off.

            The focus of the psalm is in verse 3.  Here the psalmist reminds the worshipper that even though those who ignore God seem to have the upper hand right now, don’t fall into their trap or resort to their methods.  They won’t win in the long run. 

            That sounds nice doesn’t it?  But how does one proclaim a just God in a world where injustice so often prevails?  How does one encourage faithfulness to God’s commandments when experience shows so little reward for doing so?  How does one combat despair?[3]  It seems like we’re constantly being pushed off the rails in life doesn’t it?  Tomorrow marks the 5th year anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks.  It’s a big day for remembering but each and every day people are reminded of times when life has been de-railed.  It’s not just the big days that get all the attention.  More often, it’s the accumulation of all the smaller moments.

            The psalmist seems to have two concerns for people in that ancient day and they are just as important for us.

            First, when life is de-railed, don’t abandon God.  If this psalm proclaims anything, it proclaims God’s care for people.  Knowing God cares, and cares immensely, can yield sustenance when you’d like to give up.   The psalmist seems to be more worried that faithful people will give up on God as intentional evil doers will get the upper hand.

            This psalm does not ignore fears, doubts, and moments of weakness.  The psalmist names them but is not crippled by them.  I don’t believe God is asking you to ignore or minimize your pain, doubt, or suffering.  Pain is very real.  When evil things happen in our world, it’s not illusion.  The psalmist names fears but keeps them in perspective with reference to God.  Nothing you ever go through will be bigger than God’s love and compassion for you. 

            Second, the psalmist reminds us that when life threatens to de-rail us, or we’re on the verge of falling off the rails, relax a little because God’s rails are wide.  The imagery the psalmist uses in this passage is geographical.  Around Jerusalem, there is protection on all sides from the hills.  God surrounds those who trust in Him just as the hills surround Jerusalem. 

            When we used to play our game on the railroad tracks, if you fell off, you had to start over.  Well, it’s not like that with God.  God knows, and we know, there are times we’re going to doubt and be faithless instead of faithful.  With God, when we fall off, we don’t start over we just keep going from where we left off.  We’re going to be up one day and down the next.  We’re going to march in victory one day and grumble in defeat the next.  What we need to remember in all this is that through our times of faithfulness and faithlessness, we’re still God’s people.  God has provided a wide rail of grace through Jesus for us to walk upon.  So keep on walking!         

            Amen.



[1] Eugene Peterson in his book, A Long Obedience In The Same Direction (Downers Grove, ILL: Intervarsity Press, 1980), pp. 90-91, uses similar imagery about his experience growing up near railroad tracks.  His own experience prompted me to use my experience as the guiding metaphor for this sermon.

[2] Carol Bechtel Reynolds says in her article (“Between Text and Sermon,” Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, Volume 48, July 1994, pp. 272-275) that Psalm 125 is also often called a communal lament.  If this is true to form, one might expect: a complaint, a confession of trust, and then a petition.  But this psalm moves strait to the confession of trust instead of complaint.  We are left to wonder what the complaint is about.

[3] Carol Bechtel Reynolds, “Between Text and Sermon,” Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, Volume 48, July 1994, p. 273.