The Lord is Always Close & Near - Psalm 139

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is Psalm 139 which we read a few moments ago.

I think most of us agree that we are living in a time and society that is growing less and less Christian and more and more secular. It seems that the change over the past twenty years – or, for that matter, even ten years – has been exponential. In his book, A Secular Age, author Charles Taylor describes our modern social perception or imagination as one that has become more and more exclusively human with little or no room for the Divine. Thus, in daily lives, because there is perceived to be no God, at least not one who is active and involved with power and authority, it's no wonder that sometimes (perhaps, even often) it feels as if, indeed, we are in a godless society.

Sitting here, this morning, in the house of God, we know that is not true. We know, in the words of Psalm 46, God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble. But the problem is that we do not get to dwell here twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. At most, we get to spend an hour or two here in the sanctified space for receiving God’s gifts of grace and mercy and being encouraged and strengthened to serve and care for others in the name of Jesus. Two hours with Jesus isn’t much when you consider the other 166 hours in a week spent “out there” in an ever-growing, ever-secular world. That contrast is what Paul means when he said we are in, but not of, the world.

So, “out there” we are inundated with that very secularist, godless idea of life. It’s on television, in books, and even in our conversations with family and friends. With it surrounding us, it can start to rub off on us so that, even as faithful Christians, we are tempted to believe that God is a distant, far off, and detached, watching and waiting, not really interfering or interacting with anything. Absent a caring God, we’re left without a way to answer questions like, “Does God care that on Tuesday, my kid got sick?” Or, “Does it matter to Him that we are really struggling with questions about faith and life?” Or, “Is it of any significance to Him that I am so lonely?” Or, “If God is good, why were 20 kids shot in an Iowa school? What about my kid?”  With faith neutered by secularism, we buy into the notion that we get God on Sundays but we are left to wander through the week on our own for the next 166 hours until the next Sunday.

Psalm 139 was written by David. We don’t know the circumstances surrounding the inspired poem, but one could easily imagine him writing it while fleeing from King Saul, or when preparing to face Israel’s enemies in battle, or when facing the challenges of being king over God’s own people. Regardless the specific scenario, these words were written by a man who faced things in his life that probably weren’t that much different than our own. Without trying to read into the text what isn’t there, I could easily see David wrestling with questions like ours: God, do you care? Does this matter to you? If you are good, why are things happening this way? What about your promises?

The beauty of Psalm 139 is that it completely wipes out the false idea that God is distant, separate and uncaring. Instead, David places God firmly next to us, with us, and in companionship with us. Twice, David says God searched for him and knew him. This isn’t artificial intelligence, or some kind of auto-robot. God is intimately acquainted with and involved in David’s life, seeking him and knowing him. God is with and watching over David from when he stands up in the morning to when he lays down at night. God’s knowledge is so complete that He even knows what David is thinking before it is ever spoken or muttered.

What is true for David is true for you, also, His dearly beloved child. He knows you intimately and perfectly – your actions, your thoughts, your prayers, even before they are muttered, even if you aren’t sure they are even prayers, He knows what you say, hearing, listening, answering. Around us, conventional wisdom may declare, “We don’t know if there is a god,” but God clearly responds over the hubub, “But I know you, Child. I seek you, I find you. I know you. I am behind you, before you, completely surrounding you, even in the midst of all that life has for you.”

What great comfort for us, as people of God, over and against the empty helpless and hopelessness of our secular world. Instead of leaving us grasping at smoke in the wind, our Lord holds us by His hand, firm, steady and strong. Instead of leaving us seeking after possibilities and maybe’s, our Lord is sure and certain. Instead of leaving us trying to keep up with ever-changing opinions, our Lord knows. He knows us, our needs, our actions, our words, even our thoughts.   From the highest heights to the lowest of lows, from Heaven to Sheol, David writes, even if one could fly across the skies or dive to the depts of the sea, God is present and cannot be lost. 

David says “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me.” It’s as if David is saying, God’s incredible ability is so extra-ordinary, so unusual in our understanding that it is almost incomprehensible.

There are times that is a wonderful comfort, a God who is that close, intimate and personal.

But, there are times that that is terribly frightening. He knows my thoughts, my words even before I say them? He knows what I muttered when my kid threw up at 2am? He knows the words I shouted when the check bounced? He knows what I thought about my spouse after we fought? For that matter, he knows how I leered at my coworker the next day? He knows when I sit down and goof off instead of working and he knows when I rise up because I’m too worried to sleep? He searches me out and finds me in times like this? It is frightening to think He knows all these things and what, with His might, He might do to someone like…me. It would be easy to imagine God’s hands wrapped into fists of anger, completely righteous, completely justified, in squashing sinners like bugs.

David is not afraid of God, and neither should you be. In fact, rather than seeing God’s hands balled up to strike, David sees God’s hands, hands that seek out, hands held out to lead, hands held out to hold.

There is an old story about a child who wakes up in the middle of the night, scared, calling for Mommy and Daddy. When the parents arrive, they calm the child, assure the youngster that everything is alright. "We're right down the hall," they said. The kiddo, now calmer, simply said, "I know that, but sometimes I just need to hear those words with skin on." In other words, I need to see you. 

If you want to see those hands with skin on, look no farther than the hands of Jesus. In fact, those are the hands I want you to see this morning. Hands held out, calling, gathering, and inviting the lost. Hands held out to heal and comfort the sick and hurting. Hands held out to bless and forgive the broken hearted and spiritually bankrupt. Hands held out in compassion and love to the least and the dregs of society. Hands held out, stretched out from the cross, pierced for the times your words were less than loving, for thoughts that were less than pure, for words of anger and frustration, words of doubt, words of fear, for moments of laziness and for moments of worry, moments when you have tried to take God’s place in control of your life, moments when you doubt whether God is really there or not, for those moments, Jesus dies for you with hands outstretched – outstretched for you. And, three days later when Jesus rose, those same nail-pierced hands are held up in blessing, declaring peace has been restored between you and the God who knows everything about you.

And with peace restored, the Lord seeks you out, searches for you, watches over you, guides you and directs you. He is not far off and distant. He is close, nearby, intimately acquainted and involved in your life. Not a moment passes that He does not know you and what is in your life. And, not a moment passes that you are not loved and forgiven.

If there is a moment during the week, during those 166 hours between Sundays, maybe on a Tuesday, or a Thursday, late at night when your kid is sick, or money is tight, or you have a family squabble, remember the hand of the Lord is with you. He has not abandoned you. He is there, forgiving, renewing, restoring, and holding you close. And, to remind yourself of this, take your hand – your right hand - and make the sign of the cross on your forehead or heart, a reminder of the baptismal promise God gave you in water and Word when He laid His hand and His name on you, calling you His.