Grammatical Caveat: Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation (i.e., are written for the ear), the written accounts occasionally deviate from proper and generally accepted principles of grammar and punctuation. Most often, these deviations are not mistakes per se, but are indicative of an attempt to aid the listener in the delivery of the sermon.
“To Be Known”
Psalm 139. 1-6, 13-18
First Presbyterian Church
If I were to ask: “how do you get to know
someone?” I imagine your responses would
vary. Some of us would say that we enjoy
getting to know someone over coffee or supper. Some of us may remember the days
when a new neighbor moving in meant making a pie or a casserole, not only to
communicate a welcome, but to begin laying the foundation for a
relationship. Believe it or not, it was
not so long ago when we actually knew our neighbors: not simply by the car they drove, or their
affinity for Boys-II-Men (based on the frequency and volume of their music),
but by person, and by name.
Now, in 21st century America,
almost all of us will at some point (if not today, then before the end of this
week) meet someone who will let you know just how busy they are. The default response to the question “how are
you?” has become some variation of: “Busy!” “So busy.” or
“Crazy busy.” It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint.
As a result, the stock response is a kind of congratulation: “That’s a good
problem to have,” or “Better than the opposite.” Our busy schedules are subtle reflections of
the expectations society has placed on us: one of our most basic beliefs is
that busier is better. As a result, getting to know one another has become a
bit more complicated.
These expectations aren’t limited to our
social relationships. In fact, this idea
of filling our schedules “to the max” carries over into our professional
lives. How easy it is to be brought down
by these expectations that are often imposed not externally, but by
ourselves. We must be here so we can do
that later; we must run her there but be back here by this time so we can get
him there. Between practices and
rehearsals, meetings and manicures, our lives and our schedules, voluntarily
and involuntarily, often prevent us from knowing and being known by those
around us. It is as if some of us have
forgotten how to make pies.
Unfortunately, this busyness can carry
over into our faith community and the way we do church. To be honest, the Gospel is quite
demanding. Just in our text today we are
told to come to Jesus and, then hate those we love; we are to pick up our
crosses and continue following, all while becoming disciples. If you can remember where we’ve traveled thus
far with Jesus, we have been told us to go,
but to leave our things behind. Last week, he told us to have a banquet, but
invite those we don’t know. If those aren’t demanding enough, Jesus even says,
‘Be perfect as I am perfect.’ The line in today’s gospel reading is really the
clincher: if you want to be my disciples, says Jesus, give up all your
possessions.
The demands of Christ are bold, and when
we consider his ability to remain faithful to the call placed on his life, we
may become discouraged. What is
important not to forget or to lose in translation is the theme underlying
Christ’s ministry. At the heart of Jesus’ call to the church to be Christ’s
body is the call to care for everyone, to make space where people can come and
be known. Our ultimate “call” is to be known by one another. Much like showing up uninvited on our new
neighbors door with a fresh meatloaf, this task can be trying and
intimidating. To really get to know
others means we have to begin to live for them, and this requires us to give of
ourselves to them.[1] This process yields unexpected results. As we begin to live for others, we are
suddenly able to face and accept our own limitations. As we enter deeper into meaningful
relationships with one another we will gradually begin to see that no one
expects us to be ‘gods.’ We will see
that we are human, like everyone else, and that we all have weaknesses and
deficiencies, which play an important part in all our lives. When we take the time to slow down, to become
less busy, and truly engage one another, we are reminded that in order to be
whole, we need others and that others need us.
It is then, in our shared humanity grounded in God’s love will begin to
see our perspective change and begin to recognize that right before us, staring
us in the eye, is one who bears the image of Christ, who bears the image of
God.
Our psalm text today invites us to do jus
this: to consider Christ’s gaze upon our
lives, recognizing that when we stare into the gentle eyes of Christ, we peer
into the face of God, in whose image and likeness we are made. As we share in Christ’s ministry, we must
also not overlook the importance of entering into the overwhelming presence of
God’s love. It is in, and within, and
through this love where we come to learn that we are not islands in and of
ourselves, but we have come into being, as individuals and as a community, by
and through this love.
Within all of Scripture, Psalm 139 is the
most personal expression of the Hebrew Scriptures radical monotheism. A doctrinal classic, Psalm 139 reflects an
understanding of the human as enclosed in divine reality. From the opening vocative to the final word,
this prayer confesses an existence in terms of the activity of God.[2] By concentrating on this dimension of God’s
relationship with humanity, the psalmist challenges our thoughts and
experiences by disorienting our concern away from our shortcomings and
reorienting us to the wonderful reality of God’s furious longing to be in relationship
with us. In this psalm, God is not
presented as abstract, or as a distant God who worries on about Gods self. Rather, Psalm 139 uses relational language,
speaking as thou and I, to express God’s intimate relationship to the psalmist,
God in relationship to us.
All of which comes to a climax in verse
13 when the psalmist paints a remarkable picture that provides an imaginative
description of God the weaver, and God the potter, weaving and shaping each of
us even before we were born. In this
line we recognize how from the beginning God has called us and claimed us; God
has known us and has guided us; God has awakened and inspired us and God wants
us to be known, to be ourselves.
Ultimately this prayer reassures us that within our own brokenness,
within our own busy-ness, the lens through which God views us is one of
gentleness and grace, it is a vision that is not meant to be terrifying, but
empowering, enthusing wisdom and trust to those who want nothing else than to
be led in the way everlasting. Psalm 139
is a prayer that will lead you and me and all who make it their own into the
presence of God, where we are best known and where our hearts are truly made
warm by God’s love.
When we reach that place, when we have
become so known by God, we will be able to see Christ in all we meet. And to see Christ is to see God and to see
God is to see the magnificence in all of humanity.
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| If you would like to read more about this icon done by Andrei Reublev, click here. |
On your bulletin is an icon of Jesus
painted in the 15th century.
Christian theologian Henri Nouwen offered these words upon contemplating
the gentle face of Jesus that emerges from behind the chipped and fading paint,
words to hold on to as we go from this place:
“The eyes of Jesus are neither sentimental nor judgmental, neither pious
nor harsh, neither sweet nor severe. They are the eyes of God, who sees us in
our most hidden places and loves us with a divine mercy.”[3]
Friends in Christ, may you come to
know more fully the love of God; may you find peace knowing that God has
searched you and knows you even in the midst of your busyness; that God has
fearfully and wonderfully made you and calls you good; and brothers and
sisters, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, may you begin to view the world with
the same divine mercy through which God, in Christ views you. May you stop to be known and allow others to
be known by you. May we come to embrace
God’s knowledge of us.
May it be so. Amen.
[1] Thomas Merton. “An
Invitation to the Contemplative Life.”
Ed. Wayne Simsic.
(Ijamsville: The Word Among Us
Press), 110.
[2] James Luther Mays. “Interpretation: Psalms.”
(Louisville: John Knox Press,
1989), 426.
[3] Henri J.M. Nouwen. “Behold
the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with
Icons.” (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 2007), 79.
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