The New Creation (Pentecost 4B)

This is the text of the message I prepared for the people of Yallourn Parish Uniting Church gathered at Yallourn North on Sunday 17th June 2018.

1 Samuel 15:34-16:13; Psalm 20; 2 Corinthians 5:14-17

I have been listening to quite a bit of Christian music recently.  This is in part because I’ve been trying to get a grip on the changes to Life FM in recent weeks, and because I just happen to have a full set of studio albums of Casting Crowns in my car.  A recent song which has come around as the CDs cycle through is “Hallelujah” from Casting Crowns’ most recent album entitled “The Very Next Thing” and the first part reads like this:

On the morning of creation, Father, Son and the Spirit rise. As they set the world in motion, The morning of the first sunrise. A symphony of golden sunlight, Dancing in the Father’s eyes, He gazes at His masterpiece, As all creation cries: Hallelujah!

As majestic as those words read it sounds better sung, let me tell you.  I love the idea of creation crying out in praise as life is birthed, even if theologically some might struggle with singing on the first day of creation when only light was made by God.  But can’t light sing?  Why can’t light sing?  In 1 Corinthians 5:16 we read what Paul wrote to the Church in Corinth about taking God’s perspective on what exists.  Maybe light and colour does sing for God, but more than that this section of Paul’s letter to a specific group of new Christians making their way in the world in which they live is about the ministry of reconciliation.  Paul specifically speaks into how the Church has been commissioned to continue the work begun by Jesus at Calvary to bring back to God all that was lost after the Fall.  In these verses Paul encourages Christians to view each other through fresh eyes and see each other as a new creation.

Because of the work of Christ there is a new Creation for us.  Since we have been reconciled with God by grace through faith our eyes are opened to see Creation as it always appeared to God. So, the new Creation is not a replacement for the old one; it’s the same one looked at with renewed perspective.  And that renewed perspective begins with how we view each other.

Today’s Old Testament reading tells us that the brothers of David looked kinglier than he, they were impressive in height, girth, charm, and maturity and they were washed and perfumed for worship and that even Samuel was impressed.  But that God chose the sheep-stinking boy with the beautiful eyes, and Samuel anointed him without a second thought.  Like Paul and like Samuel the Church has the role of mediator in the world, not conqueror; God needs leaders who will heed the Word of God and not be carried away by their own ideas of kingship and magisterium.  To say that we regard no one from a human point of view is to say that we refuse to play games of politics any more.  Other people are not a threat or a potential enemy by virtue of being someone other than us: no, we see every other person as God seen him or her, a beloved one belonging to Jesus and for whom Jesus died out of his love for him or her.  We see brothers and sisters in the family of God; we citizens of the Kingdom of God of which we are citizens; we see friends.  This is who they always were, but now, finally, we see that.  Indeed, we see that even if they don’t see that.  Part of our job as agents of reconciliation is to tell the world that they are the sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters of us, and our friends in the new creation where reconciliation is taking place and love is abundant.

When Saul was chosen as king he was head and shoulders above everyone else.  A Benjaminite, so a man from the smallest tribe (1 Samuel 9:21), but a big man in physicality (1 Samuel 10: 23) even if he was obviously not up to the task of being king emotionally.  There is no need for metaphor in the story of Saul, at his own coronation he is found actually hidden among the baggage: read it yourself in 1 Samuel 10: 22.  David is a Judahite, so the son of a big tribe, but he’s a youngest son and was considered so unimportant that “the boy” was left out shepherding when Samuel came to town and met with “the men”.  God does not want another Saul, a big man with a small heart, and God makes this clear to Samuel as each of David’s large brothers are passed over (1 Samuel 16:7).  When Samuel anointed David as king the Holy Spirit descended upon David, God’s anointing matched that of the prophet-judge.  And then what happened?  Well, Samuel returned to Ramah and David returned to the flocks.  God’s next thing has been set in motion and its time would assuredly come: but not yet.

As agents of God’s reconciliation in the world this is also our task, to speak of what God is going to do as well as what God has done.  As I suggested last week the message of the coming thing is not necessarily about Heaven for dead Christians, it is more about how God is continuing to save the world by revealing the man Jesus as the Son of God and Saviour of the world and demonstrating that God is already King, and God’s reign is unfolding across the planet.  With the fresh eyes for a new creation we see this, even as we live in the middle of the old creation.  David had the Spirit of God, Saul did not, but David at this moment is still a shepherd and Saul the king.  It’s not even as if Jesse had kept David in the house and sent one of the other, un-anointed brothers out to the mob in the back paddock.  Immediately after his anointing nothing changed for David even though everything had changed.  This is the message we proclaim as well; the change has been made and it is assuredly coming.  How do we know?  Because we know that David did indeed become king in the fulness of time, and that he was the greatest king the world has ever seen.

There is one more characteristic of the coming reign of God that I saw in this week’s readings, one more sign that as individuals we are on the same page as God and the same track as Paul; but it’s found in 1 Samuel 15:35 where we read that Samuel grieved for Saul.  I read this as a sign of Samuel’s greatness in spirit; he does not gloat over the defeat of the king he never wanted in the first place but mourns the man whose greatness got too much for him and has led to his being rejected by God.  In the opening words of today’s Psalm, we read may the LORD hear you in the day of affliction, may the name of the God of Jacob defend you, (Psalm 20:1-2), and in Psalm 20:10 we read O LORD save your King and hear us in the day we call upon you.  These two Old Testament passages are not connected in history, the Psalm was not written about Saul, but I like that the lectionary has connected them for us today, for whatever reason the lectionary compositors chose.  Perhaps we are supposed to see David as the LORD’s King now that Saul has been rejected.  Perhaps the Psalmist is praying for David’s safety inside Saul’s realm until such time as David can take assume the throne that God has already given him.

It is true that God interrupts Samuel’s grief and send Samuel to Bethlehem to find and anoint the new king, of God’s choosing.  It is true that Samuel must be careful because Saul is mentally unstable and even with God as his protector Samuel is on thin ice travelling to do the work he is called by God to do.  It is true that God chose the youngest and smallest son; even as David is no nerdy runt but is ruddy and handsome with beautiful eyes.  It is true that David is full of life, it is true that David’s brothers are full of themselves, and it is true that Saul is full of something else entirely.  But it is also true that Saul was chosen by God’s people, that Saul was appointed by God on their recommendation, and that Saul remains king over Israel at the point and for some years beyond.  Samuel does not delight in the fall of Saul, because with fresh eyes he sees a man who is a creation of God and who is loved by God even as God is disappointed and regretful about Saul’s life.

Like Samuel we must be open to compassion and empathy for the lost, even if in the old way of looking these people are our opposition and agents for our destruction.  Saul was never going to get his anointing back, but perhaps Samuel’s grief was for the man who got lost along the way, the tall but shy Benjaminite who may have lived a better life if he’d not been thrust into the Israelite limelight by an envious nation wanting to be like everyone else.

So, who do we know, who do you know, who needs to be reconciled with God the Creator?  Maybe that person you are thinking of has fallen from glory, maybe he or she is about to fall but is unaware, or maybe like the later kings of Israel he or she will live and die elevated in the world but will always be rejected by God.  For whom do you grieve?  From what grief will God call you out to make a new way for the world?  Do you even care that there are lost people in the world?  What difference does it make to you that some of the lost are currently acting as kings and bishops and CEOs?

Are you looking at the world as a new creation?  I commend to you this week that you take some time to look at the world through fresh eyes, through God’s eyes, and that you let yourself grieve for what God grieves for so that you will be moved to act toward what God wants done.  There is a world to be reconciled to God, and you and I are the ones who have the responsibility as Church and the means as Christians to do that.  So, this week think, read, pray, and go where God is calling you to call others to God.

Amen.

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Slowly Relentless (Epiphany 5B)

This is the text of the message I prepared for Morwell Uniting Church for Sunday 4th February 2018, the fifth Sunday in Epiphany in Year B.

Isaiah 40:21-31; Mark 1:29-39

When I began blogging back in the 2000s I had a few pages on the go.  One blog, which had, (and still only has) one post was called “3Rs”.  No, it was not about my skills in literacy and numeracy; and just as well because Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic are not three Rs at all, but one R, one A, and a W.  I know this because I was once a Primary School teacher, and they learned me that at NTU where I got teached stuff for my Graduate Diploma in Primary Education.  No, my 3Rs were Resolute, Relentless, and Resilient.  After a few tough years, the toughest ever, where my 40 days in the wilderness had lasted four years so far and didn’t look like ending any time soon, I began to write about my desire to see the journey through with blood, sweat, tears, and a few other, less pleasant bodily fluids.  Resolute, Relentless, Resilient.  I was going to push through with all of mine and God’s strength.  The blog never saw a second post because the journey was too painful, complicated, and downright weird to try to put into words.

Today’s message, ten and a bit years later, and posted to my current blog I have entitled “Slowly Relentless”.

In Mark 1:31 we read that Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law by taking her by the hand and lifting her up.  Her response to healing is to engage in ministry, diakoneo, the work of a ministering angel.  The same word is used in Mark 1:13 when Jesus is assisted in his recovery after the forty days in the wilderness.  This woman is raised up not to be a mere woman doing “women’s work” or “being a housewife” as if those activities were not important anyway; as if a healed father-in-law could have just moved from bed to chair with Jesus and demanded a beer but the woman must serve and not be served.   No, she is restored to her act of ministry because Jesus’ healings are not just restorative, they are also empowering.

In Mark 1:32-34 we are told about many other women and men in Capernaum who were healed through Jesus’ ministry to weakened bodies, minds, and souls.  I wonder, did Jesus expect the same from these renewed people as he did in the house of Simon?  Imagine that next day in Capernaum, a village filled with active and restored people, buzzing with excitement that God’s grace had been manifested amongst them and how they were now able to do what they had been limited from doing for however long.  What a fabulous day that would have been!

How many of you long for the day when Jesus will take you by your hand and lift you up?  I know I do.

I live with a mental illness, you all know that, and many of you have taken to wearing the beyondblue wrist bands in support of me and my ilk.  And yes, that mental illness came about back in those wilderness days when I needed to be intentionally resolute, relentless and resilient.  Sometimes life today for me is more about mental ill-health for me than actual illness because some days I have the emotional version of a sniffle and some days I have the emotional version of quadriplegia.  Each of these conditions impact on my physical activity (or lack thereof) to that extent.  I’m not always flat on my back, and I’m not always sneezing, mentally speaking, but some days I am one of those two things, or something in the middle.  On many days I’m in mentally good-health; “mental healthy” rather than “mental healthish” as it were.  So, yes, I long for that day when Jesus will take me by my hand and lift me up so that I can go about the work of ministry.  Ministry to him, ministry to you, ministry to myself.

But I’m not so fussed about my failing eyesight.  I’ve worn spectacles for short-sightedness for almost forty years, since I was six, and I now have the reading glasses of a man who was six years old almost forty years ago.  I am not fussed about that,  and I do not long for the day when I have 20/20 vision at last, although I’d take it if it came.  Like many men I’d like to be thinner around my abs, thicker around my quads, biceps and triceps, and more powerful in heart and lungs, although I’m happy with the covering of hair I wear.  So, it’s just the mental thing, and the sleep apnoea connected with it that I want fixed.  I need the lifting-out-of-bed hand of Jesus, and I need it many days a week, because of what happens in my mind.  I would love to have it once-and-for-all, but God’s grace is sufficient, and every morning Jesus helps me make it out of bed.  Some mornings it is before 8:00am, other mornings it is after 11:00am, but it’s always morning and it’s always Jesus.

So, I get excited when I read that God healed a whole town, or at least all of those who asked it of God, through the ministry of Jesus.  I know how excited I’d be to hear the promise that I’ll never be midday-dozy or fidgety again. I know how excited I’d be if Jesus did that for the whole Latrobe Valley, at the very least the western bit where Moe, Morwell, Narracan, Newborough, Yallourn and Yallourn North are.  I’m excited that Jesus is amongst us, and about us, even though this mass miracle of lifting to minister seems unlikely, simply because it hasn’t happened for a while.  I don’t believe that Jesus can’t heal our whole cluster and the towns in which we live, but I acknowledge that he hasn’t.  Maybe, like those few at Capernaum, we need to ask.  Maybe we need to rock up at sundown and bring all who are sick or possessed with demons and gather around the door.

Or, maybe, we need to look for something else.  Without discounting for a second that God could heal our bit of the City of Latrobe and the Baw Baw Shire, and give us a new energy, there is something else we can rely on from God in the interim.

It’s in Isaiah 40:31, and it is always, ALWAYS EVERY SINGLE TIME quoted incorrectly by Christian card manufacturers, poster makers, and rabble-rousing preachers.  Always until today of course.  After all, you’re not a rabble so why would I want to rouse you?

God has not abandoned the weary, rather God has extended salvation to all who seek God from wherever it is they begin to seek.  In Isaiah’s day the Israelites were in exile, and they were tired, and they were weary, and they were very close to being worn out.  God’s message to these people is that God is aware of the people and their circumstance, and because God is actively directing history (rather than sitting back and letting it unfold while God sits on the couch with divine Tim Tams and a six-pack,  of Victorious Draught), God will intervene presently.  In the meantime as we read in Isaiah 40:28-29 God is present, present at present, and God’s current work is strengthening and upholding the fainting and exhausted.  That’s been said before, and that’s all good; it’s the next bit that Koorong’s suppliers can’t seem to get right.

It’s not about being an eagle.

There you go.  Isaiah 40:31 is not actually about being an eagle, and how God is going to make you into a herculean pterodactyl or whatever.  The renewing of your strength is found in…wait for it…keep waiting…a bit longer…okay now…realising that you have permission to slow down.  Look at Isaiah 40:31, look at the order of the verbs:  you mount up, then you run, then you walk.  If you are a bird then my birdy friend you are coming in to land, you are not taking off.  It’s not wander out of the nest, have a run up and then lift off, no this verse is very much swoop about for a bit, come in to land at a run, and then slow down.  Having flown with God but come out of the skies you will be strengthened in God to land safely, running without weary legs after your wings have become too tired to carry you, and then walking to a standstill on your own feet.  You don’t crash, you don’t collapse.  You land safely.

Yes, of course all that eagle stuff is also true.  There are soaring times in God’s presence, and in God’s strength when you are ministering away from the gathered body.  I have been there, I have “soared with you in the power of your love”, and I hope that you have too.  But I have also heard, and I now teach the wisdom of God, that there is a place in ministry and in discipleship when you need to return to the ground and to the nest.

After all, it’s what Jesus did.

The strength of Jesus’ ministry, and his ability through God’s direction to heal and restore the women and men who came to him as he did, was Jesus’ own ministry.  By that I mean his ministry to himself.  When Jesus needed restoration he went to the source, to the Father, with the advocating assistance of the paraclete, the Holy Spirit.  When Jesus was at the walking stage, which as I say is not a bad stage, he sat, (or perhaps knelt, or lay, or stood still), and there he prayed as Mark 1:35 tells us.  And why did he pray?  Well for the reasons I have just said, he was tired to walking pace, but also because of Mark 1:36.  And Simon and his companions hunted for him as the NRSV says.  They did not “seek” him or “search for him”, the did not “inquire into his whereabouts”, and certainly didn’t “await his return”.  No, the Greek text here, which I use to highlight the specific word chosen by Mark, is the word katadioko.  It means “pursue with hostility” in the sense of “hunted him down”.  The disciples didn’t just try to find Jesus, they sent the dogs out.

I do not wish to imply that this congregation has ever set dogs on me.  You have not: I promise, you haven’t.  But I’m sure you can each relate to what Jesus might have felt.  Perhaps you are or were a parent who couldn’t even use the toilet without having your toddler follow you into the loo, and leave the door open after finding you.  Perhaps the light at the end of the tunnel, late one afternoon after a hectic day at the office, was really your boss with a torch and an overflowing folder of apparently urgent paperwork.  There are times when it is right in The Spirit to not soar, not run, and not even walk, but to stop.

God knows, and I know, and your mental health specialist will also tell you, that that is true.  Where Psalm 46:10 says “be still and know” the sense of the Hebrew there is “Freeze!  Hear and understand!” This message is no less (and no more) a Biblical imperative than “Onward Christian Soldiers”, or “an as I wait I’ll rise up like an eagle and I will soar with you, your spirit leads me on”.  There is power in God’s love, and more often than we might like to think that power is the wing under which the hen gathers and shields her sleepy chicks.

God alone can raise you up on eagle-like wings, God alone can take your hand and lift you up to minister again.  If that is what you need to do today, then do that

Let God.

Amen.

Ahead of Ourselves: A Confession centred on 2 Samuel 7:1-11,16

Settled in our homes, resting in your glory

sometimes Lord we get ahead of ourselves.

What magnificent thing can I do for the Lord? we ask,

as if you are incapable of doing for yourself.

 

Settled in our homes, resting in your glory

sometimes Lord we get ahead of ourselves.

What magnificent thing can I do for the Lord? we ask,

as if your input into our ministry is not required.

 

Settled in our homes, resting in your glory

sometimes Lord we get ahead of ourselves.

What magnificent thing can I do for the Lord? we ask,

as if domesticating the presence of the ineffable One is appropriate.

 

Settled in our homes, resting in your glory

sometimes Lord we get ahead of ourselves.

What magnificent thing can I do for the Lord? we ask,

as if the magnificent thing you did for us can be trumped.

 

Established in your house, rejoicing in your glory

Forgive us Lord when we get ahead of ourselves.

What magnificent things the Lord has done for us! we announce,

and remember that we are forgiven by your grace and favoured by your love.


					

Sheepish Goats

A Confession centred on Matthew 25:31-44

 

Son of Man in your glory,

Does the inheritance of the Kingdom really belong

only to those who engaged in social justice?

Does it not also belong to the Marys,

those who sat with you in rapt attention and listened at your feet

when as Jesus you walked the earth?

Does it not also belong to the Marthas,

those who made a home within their own homes for you

when as Jesus you walked the earth?

Does it not also belong to the Lazaruses,

those who you saved from death by hand and voice

when as Jesus you walked the earth?

Does it not also belong to the Pauls,

those you saved from self-destruction by voice and vision

when as Christ you spoke from Heaven?

Isn’t awe of you

and obedience enough?

Isn’t grace by faith

and godliness enough?

Why must we also get our hands

bloodied and bruised,

dirty and chaffed,

spat upon and impaled?

ou who did that for us, why can’t you do it for

the likes of them,

the least of them,

(lesser than the least of us),

without bothering us?

Saviour forgive us when we

neglect to live your desired response,

and get upset when you call us to

more than praise and worship.

Saviour forgive us when we

forget to live your desired response,

and get upset when you remind us that

we were once the least of these.

Receive us Lord,

Mary, Martha, and Lazarus types,

Paul, Peter, and James types too.

Revive us to see the life

that you offered for us to take up

and to which we have become so accustomed,

that we have forgotten than it was given by sharing.

Amen.

Talents

(A confession centred on Matthew 25:14-30)

Lord, through Matthew and the story of the lazy servant

you taught the crowd and your disciples

to be busy at the work of the Kingdom

after you had gone.

Two servants who were known to be diligent

were given great responsibility

and were proven to be trustworthy when at last the master returned.

They were commended for their diligence and trustworthiness.

and each was welcomed into the celebration.

We want to be like these men when you come.

When you ask how faithful we have been

with the resources you entrusted to us

we want to be proven as diligent.

But often Lord, like that third man

we are afraid,

knowing that the responsibility which you confer

upon even the least of us is still great.

We do not want to be untrustworthy,

but we are anxious.

We do not want to be lazy,

but we are paranoid.

God of mercy and second chances,

do not throw us out of your house

if we fall short undertaking the tasks that you have given.

Enable us and encourage us to do as you have asked,

and forgive us when we do not do as you have asked.

Amen.

A Wicked Tendency: A Confession cntred on Matthew 21:33-41.

Vintner of Heaven,

Landlord of Earth,

We come into your presence with a description of our desire for justice.

Where the Teacher of old spoke of foxes in the vineyard,

We recognise that it is human effort which has destroyed what you intended.

 

Lord of this place you are worthy of your due.

 

Not only are you landowner and great gardener,

Not only are you master-vinedresser and great winemaker,

You are creator and sustainer.

 

Not only are you the builder of walls and digger of moats,

Not only are you governor of people and selector of choicest fruits,

You are God and Father.

 

Forgive us, you who are All, when we withhold from you

all that is rightfully yours.

 

Forgive us, you who are Love, when we withhold from others

love that is duly theirs.

 

Forgive us, you who are Father, when we mistreat your daughters

and sons who speak to us by your authority.

 

We are sorry that we have not listened,

that we have thrown out,

beaten,

and killed those who have called us to listen,

and that we have, consequently, made a mess of your garden.

Amen.

 

Servants of the vineyard owner, hear the words of the Father’s heir,

“The kingdom of God will be…given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”

Hope remains for the obedient, and forgiveness for the penitent.

Amen.

Sacred Secret Space

This is the text of the message I prepared for Sunday 23rd July 2017.

Genesis 28:10-19a; Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24.

Our brief journey through Genesis has brought us, this morning, to the place where God repeats to Jacob the promise made to Abraham.  God speaks in Jacob’s sleep and Jacob awakes in awe of the place: he names it Bethel or beit-El which means the house of God in recognition that he has stumbled across consecrated ground.  Jacob is wonderfully aware that he is in the place of “Secret God Business”, whose secret is now shared with the descendants of Abraham.  The stone pillar he erects and anoints is the rock he had used for a pillow, connecting the real presence of God with the physical geology of the place on earth.  So, the point is not primarily the promise, real and secure as that promise is, but that God repeats it to another generation.  God continues to speak; the message of God is not a once-only revelation which then belongs to the prophets to repeat.

The story from Bethel tells us that there are places where God speaks to us, and speaks with us, as women and men.  I think it’s important that we find and remember those places.  As Christians of this expression of Uniting Church, noting the vibe of the room in front of me, we believe that God can and does speak with us anywhere. But the story of Bethel, among others in the scriptures (such as the stories of Sinai) says that there are places where God desires to be found and where our movement toward that place prepares us to listen and respond to what we have heard.

And so, I ask you, where do you hear God?  Where has God spoken to you before?  Where is your Bethel?  Do you even have one?  This may be geographical (the prayer chair in the bedroom) or metaphorical (wherever I am at rest).  It might have been a one-off place in time and location (that worship service in Rosny on 10th September 1996), or it might be a repeated location.  In Genesis God often speaks “in dreams”; we see this here but we also see revelation-by-dream in Genesis 20:3, and Genesis 31:10-11, 24.  What is important to know about Bethel is that it is at the frontier of Canaanite territory.  God is speaking to Jacob as he is on the edge of leaving the land given to Abraham, the border of what has been promised as home.  Does God speak with you at the edges?  Perhaps if we want to hear God, or we want God to hear us, we might need to go to the edges.

Jacob is about to depart Canaan in search of a suitable wife, travelling back to Haran as the servant of Abraham had done to find a wife for Isaac.  God meets with Jacob and promises him that he will indeed return to the land promised by God to Abraham.  Since the promise was to Abraham for his descendants God reminds Jacob that the promise is for him too.  As the favoured son of Isaac, the favoured son of Abraham, the promise of a homeland and of nations and generations like the stars in their number for the blessing of the whole world is for Jacob.

What has God promised you?  Do you know?  Do you remember?  Has there ever been a promise just for you?  As Christians, we all have the promises of God in Christ, promises Jesus made to the Church or that God made through the Holy Spirit revealed in scripture.  I do not believe that the Church has been promised what Abraham was promised, which is to say land, many descendants, and the means to be a blessing to the world, although there are modifications of that if you follow the train of thought that the Church is the new Chosen people.  Blessed to be a blessing is certainly true of the Church, whereas an eternal homeland in Palestine, centred on Jerusalem, is not.  Christianity is not a land-based religion in that way: there is no Aliyah for us, the Jewish call for home, and we have no Mecca or Amritsar.  But, to get back on track, what has God promised you, personally?  Would anyone care to name such a promise?

God promised me one time at the edge, when I was homeless and sleeping in a shelter, that I’d never be without a roof; and specifically, that I’d never have to sleep in the two-storey carpark across the road from the shelter.  God reminded me many times, at the edge, that this was God’s promise.  And so far God has proven faithful to God’s word.  I am confident that God will always prove faithful to this promise.

In Psalm 139 we read what is many people’s favourite psalm.  It’s not my favourite, although it used to be, and it’s not my favourite only because another psalm has supplanted 139 in my heart as the deepest promise of God to me.  But if it’s your favourite then good for you, it’s a gem.

Tradition accords this psalm to the pen of David, and the NRSV has my partial approval in subtitling this poem “The Inescapable God”.   God is inescapable, not that God is unable to escape us, but that we are unable to escape God.  We cannot escape the inescapable one.  Why can’t we escape, well because as the very first words of this poem say, God has searched and has known you who has come to worship.  “I cannot outrun you,” says David, “you’ve got me and you always have had.  You know every movement of every sinew in my body, and every firing of every synapse in my brain.”  Such a God cannot be escaped.

“You search out the way for me,” David goes on to say.  God goes ahead like a scout and then comes beside as a trail guide to set the best path for where you or I walk next.   This verse, Psalm 139:3, is why I’m not enamoured of theologies which speak of Jesus occupying the driver’s seat of someone’s life.  Yes, in the “Footprints in the Sand” moments of life we may need a taxi or ambulance, and then it’s all “Jesus Take The Wheel” for me.  But for the most part I suggest that Jesus wants us to do our own driving while he sits in the other front seat as map-reader, course-plotter, navigator and companion.  Jesus is not a sat-nav, a disembodied voice from the dashboard; neither is he a front-seat passenger, passive as you drive.  No, this verse suggests that Jesus is more like the co-driver in a rally car, one who has travelled the road before and who knows where the tricky corners are, which way they curve, and whether there is sloppy mud or oil or ice or cow muck on the racing line.  Jesus is the one yelling out pace-notes above the roar of the engine as you throttle through those brief stages of life where you must travel with your foot to the floor, trusting him to tell you what to do in the next three bends.  Even in a championship rally, let alone a local car trial, not all the road is competitive: there are cruising stages where you and the navigator sit back a bit and drive to the next timed stage.  This is where Jesus sits with you just being and chatting and enjoying the road, and Psalm 139:4 speaks of this moment in the intimacy and trust that you and Jesus have in each other – he knows what you’re about to say, not because he is God omniscient but because he is your partner and he knows you.  To extend the metaphor, Jesus as co-driver has placed his life in your hands, he trusts you to keep him safely on the road and not to lose the car he is hurtling along in (with his head down to read the pace-notes) into the adjacent gullies, hillsides, and crowds of spectators.  It’s no wonder he is intimately acquainted with your thoughts and actions, he has needs to know you enough to trust you with his life.

That’s certainly not the metaphor David was thinking of, that God needs to know you intimately enough to have life-risking faith in you, but it works for me.  It works for me because the idea of Jesus as navigator rather than driver was revealed to me in my Bethel.  It works for me because if God in Christ is prepared to go to that extent to survey me, to ask about me, to check my references and my CV, and to look up my criminal record for selecting me for a relationship then I trust the news that God is interested in me and wants to know me.  If God knows everything about me and still wants to love me, well that’s amazing, but that’s the story of grace.  While I always celebrate the fullness of the gospel message to a hurting, waiting world, including me, I’ve heard that story before.  But that God would go to all that effort to find out about me, not just from God’s omniscience, but from God’s pursuit of me and God’s work to woo me just for the purposes of love, well that’s different.  Remember from Psalm 139:1 that David specifically says that he was searched and loved, not merely known about and acknowledged.  God is active in chasing you just so you can know how much God loves you.

God knows you.  God made you and so God knows how you were made and the bits used to make you.  We could go on to read that in the paragraph of Psalm 139:13-18.  God is eternal and without limit and for that reason it is not possible to be where God is not, and we have read that in the paragraph of Psalm 139:7-12.  But, again, even as wonderful as that message is, hear it with the insight that this loftiness and majesty of God is active, and is actively attending to you for love and to uphold you.

God chose Abraham and no one else, but God still loved the world.  Then God chose Isaac and not Ishmael, even as God loved and protected Ishmael.  Then God chose Jacob and not Esau, even as God loved and protected Esau (and saw him married to Ishmael’s daughter).  And from Jacob, eventually, comes the Jewish people and the story we continue to read of God blessing one group so that they can bring that blessing to the whole world.

God has also chosen you.  Don’t worry, God has chosen me as well, it’s not all up to you as it was all up to the Patriarchs.  But as God promised to be their God in the hope that they would be God’s people the same promise is made to us.  God promises love for you, guidance for you, protection for you, supervision for you, rescue for you, and peace for you.  Do you know that?  Do you know that because I have told you that, or others before me from behind this and other lecterns?  Do you know that because the Bible, or Joyce Meyer, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer told you that in print?

Can I invite you to say yes to those, but can I also invite you to develop and inhabit your own Bethel?  Can I encourage you to find a space, place, and time, to be where God is and to watch and learn as God goes about the work of grace right in front of you?  Find a chair, or a wardrobe.  Find a minute or twenty.  Fall asleep and dream if that works for you, (it often does for me).  Whatever you do, find God where God is and listen and ask about the promise made to you for your life.  Not just for salvation from sin, not just for Heaven when you die, not just for the promises made in Christ to the whole Church (although those too, those too).  But listen and ask for God’s personal, timely promise for you.  And then, in the confidence that the God who knows you in the Psalm 139 way is also with you in the fresh promise of today, go out and change the world.

Amen.