Sermon Tone Analysis

Introduction

If you’re a fan of early Twentieth-Century Irish poetry (and let’s face it—who isn’t??), then you may recognize the title of this sermon as a reference to a poem called “The Second Coming”, by W. B. Yeats.

This year marks the hundredth anniversary of the poem, which Yeats wrote after the end of World War I, the Russian Revolution and the political turmoil of his native Ireland.

It was his attempt to capture not just the political and violence, but his anxiety over “the social ills of modernity: the rupture of the traditional family and societal structures; the loss of religious faith, and with it the collective sense of purpose; the feeling that the old rules no longer apply and there’s nothing to replace them” (www.theparisreview.org).

Let me read the first stanza to you, and see if it doesn’t sound as appropriate for us in 2019 as it did for him in 1919:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

In the rest of the poem, Yeats expresses his fear that the loss of the “center that cannot hold” (the moral authority of Western culture) will open the door for an even more monstrous evil than has already befallen us.

That if there is some kind of “Second Coming”, it won’t be a Savior to save us, but a monstrous wickedness that will destroy us:

What rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

It is, on the whole, not the kind of poem that you would read, say, at your niece’s wedding reception!

It is dark and ominous, and Yeats works overtime to heighten a sense of dread and foreboding for the future.

And much of its imagery feels perfectly suited to our present cultural moment: Just a couple of weeks ago the Pennsylvania State Senate budget hearings devolved into a screaming match between Lt. Gov. Fetterman and Majority Leader Jake Corman (“mere anarchy loosed on the world”), while New York, Vermont, Illinois and now Maine are passing laws that will loose a “blood-dimmed tide” to “drown the ceremony of innocence” of children in the horror of abortion right up to the moment of birth.

The very notion of marriage and family is under assault, diluted and maimed to the point of irrelevance in our national discourse by the worst voices, who are “full of passionate intensity” while the best lack all conviction.

Even the natural world around us seems to be spiraling out of control—wildfires in California devouring entire cities, volcanic eruptions burying Hawaii under rivers of lava, squads of tornadoes ripping across the South like enormous soldiers in some horrifying invasion, even a flood of shark attacks off the coast of North Carolina!

Add to that the daily chaos and uncertainty that each of us struggle with in our own lives: Financial instability, job market fluctuations, health challenges and illness, family and domestic struggles—if there was ever a time when the nightmarish evil of Yeats’ poem applied to the world, it is now!

So what are we to do?

Where do you turn for some kind of stability in a world that rages against God?

How can you find peace and confidence when it feels like “the center cannot hold”, and everything is falling apart?

When we turn to Psalm 46 this morning, we find that the psalmist is using the same kind of stark, arresting imagery—but the tone of the psalm is far different:

The earth gives way, the mountains are thrown into the sea, the oceans roar and foam—this kind of imagery is the way the Biblical writers paint the picture of a world spiraling out of control.

I had a professor in Bible college that was a missionary in Guatemala during the earthquake of 1976, and I remember him describing the terrible sense disorientation he experienced, watching the earth roll and swell beneath him like an ocean wave.

And a couple of years ago, I experienced something very similar during the total solar eclipse, watching the Sun go dark in the middle of the day!

It was uncanny, eerie and unsettling in a way I hadn’t expected.

That’s what the psalmist is trying to convey in these verses.

But the striking aspect of these verses isn’t the ominous imagery of a world thrown into chaos—it is the deep and unshakeable confidence of God’s people in the midst of it!

Reading Psalm 46 doesn’t convey the echo of ominous footfalls of an approaching evil—it rings with a confident song of joy and gladness!

And this is what I aim to show you this morning from this psalm, that

The presence of God’s Spirit in us is our refuge in the chaotic rebellion of this age.

First, look at the way the psalmist describes

I.

The Chaos of the World’s Rebellion

Look again at verses 2-3: The imagery of the earth heaving and the mountains being thrown into the sea is an ominous picture of the world falling apart.

And this is especially the case when you realize that the Israelites really didn’t have much experience as a seafaring people—the image of the sea is always used in the Old Testament to symbolize Chaos—uncontrollable danger, peril and confusion.

But the mountains were always described as a place of security and refuge (Ps.

121:1).

So when the mountains are thrown into the sea, it means that Chaos has overwhelmed Order—it’s the psalmist’s way of saying there is no place left to hide!

His point is clear:

We live in a chaotic and dangerous world.

(vv.

2-3)

It’s also interesting to note that the psalmist is one of the “Sons of Korah”—a descendant of one of the men who rebelled against Moses in the wilderness in Numbers 16.

Do you remember how God judged him?

So when this psalmist writes about “the earth giving way”, he is writing about something that strikes very near his own personal history.

When the earth gives way and swallows you up, there is no escape!

(And yet, as we will see, he has peace!)

We live in a chaotic and dangerous world, and in verse 6 the psalmist reminds us that

We live among raging and tottering kingdoms (v. 6).

The upheaval and chaos of earthquakes and floods in verses 1-2 is mirrored by the upheaval and chaos of the nations that refuse to acknowledge God.

Like the unruly sea, they foam and rage and swirl in anger and rebellion against God—and like the hills in an earthquake they sway and totter and crumble!

They are loud, they are furious in their denunciations, they sign their legislations and threaten to sue, they throw back their heads and scream at the sky—but they are all about as stable as the second-to-the-last move of a game of Jenga!

And all it will take is one little word from God: “He utters His voice, and the earth melts!”

The firm footing they thought they had under them, their absolute conviction that they stand on solid ground, that they are “on the right side of history”, as they like to say, melts and crumbles away like a popsicle on the sidewalk in July!

This is why the tone of Psalm 46 is so different from W.B. Yeats’ vision of the world—both of them use startling, haunting imagery to describe a world in chaos.

Yeats is singing a dirge, but the psalmist is dancing a jig!

When “the centre cannot hold” in the upheaval of a world that rages against God, we have

II.

The Refuge of God’s Presence

Look at verses 4-5:

On either side of this psalm we see the chaos and rebellion and disorder and peril of a world gone mad—but here in these verses we see the peace and gladness of “the city of God!”

This psalm is one of the first of the “Songs of Zion” in the Psalms—along with Psalm 48, 76, 84 and 87, they are songs that celebrate the strength and beauty and majesty of the dwelling of God with His people in Jerusalem.

And the way the psalmist sets out the contrast of this psalm, you get the sense of standing on the parapet of a high mountain fortress.

You look out and see the turmoil of the churning seas, the earthquake-tumbled mountains and the raging, tottering nations—and then you turn and look into the city and you see peace and stability, flowing streams, glad laughter, music and feasting—completely and utterly untouched and unmoved by the raging chaos outside!

There is great gladness in God’s presence (v.

4)

When the psalmist writes in verse 5, “God will help her when morning dawns”, he may be making a reference to an episode in Jerusalem’s history when the rage of the nation of Assyria was directed against her.

It takes place in 2 Kings 18-19, (p.

326) when Sennacherib encamped his army, 185,000 strong, outside the walls of Jerusalem.

In 2 Kings 18:33, he taunts Jerusalem:

But the prophet Isaiah, who was there in Jerusalem with King Hezekiah, tells the people,

And then, in the very next verse, we read,

“God will help her when the morning dawns!”

The psalmist rejoices in the great gladness in God’s presence, and he rejoices that

There is great security in God’s presence (vv.

5, 7, 11)

“God is in the midst” of the city, so “it shall not be moved”.

And in verses 7 and 11 the psalmist repeats the statement

I mentioned earlier that Martin Luther wrote “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” based on Psalm 46.

Verses 7 and 11 are the basis of the line “Lord Sabaoth, His Name / From age to age the same / And He must win the battle!”

“It is said of Luther that there were times during the dark and dangerous periods of the Reformation when he was terribly discouraged and depressed.

But at such times he would turn to his friend and coworker Philipp Melanchthon and say, “Come, Philipp, let’s sing the forty-sixth Psalm.”

(Boice, J. M. (2005).

Psalms 42–106: An Expositional Commentary (p.

388).

Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books.)

One of the strongest, most secure fortresses in the modern world sits under Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado.

Housed under two thousand feet of solid granite, the Cheyenne Mountain Complex houses the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD).

Built to withstand a direct hit from any of the largest nuclear weapons in the world, it is also invulnerable to electromagnetic interference or biological or chemical attacks.

It’s earthquake-proof structures are built on massive springs to protect them from tremors, and massive redundant generators supply electrical power.

It is perhaps the safest, most secure, unmoveable place on the entire planet—but one word from your God and the entire mountain will melt like wax!

In the chaotic upheaval of this world’s raging, tottering rebellion against God, you have a “mighty fortress” in Him— “a bulwark never failing!”

And in the last section of this psalm, we are called to give

III.

Our Response to God’s Power

Look at verses 8-10:

Up to this point, the psalmist has been describing the chaos of the rebellious world around us and the security of God’s people in His presence.

But starting here in verse 8, he calls on us to respond to His works.

The first thing we are called to do is to

Behold the works of the LORD (v.