"Hemmed in by God" - A sermon on Psalm 139 by Samuel D. Giere
Preached at Loehe Chapel, Wartburg Theological Seminary (Dubuque, IA), January 21, 2015.
[You may want to read all of Psalm 139 as part of engaging this sermon]
Psalm 139: “O Lord, you search and you know me…” (v. 1)
God is not far off, but close. Deeply close. Intimately close. Perhaps uncomfortably close.
There is no thought that you or I can think,
no action that you or I can do,
no prejudice that you or I can hold,
no place that you or I can go,
that God does not know…
where God does not go.
God hems us in.[1] Behind and before.
Even in the deathly depths of Sheol, God is there.
Even if we cover ourselves with darkness attempting to shut out all light,
the darkness that we create… that we seek is as the light of day to God.
Even from before your infant eyes open to the blurred light of day, God knows you intricately.
“O Lord, you search and you know me…” (v. 1)
It would be unjust to the psalm not to read to the end.
For with bravado the psalmist prays this prayer with an eye and an ear toward the destruction of the enemy. With swagger, the psalmist associates his enemy with God’s enemy, saying:
Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies. (vv.21-22)
Such self-righteous bravado is the stuff upon which crusades and pogroms and hate speech and exclusion and divisions are built upon. Pascal wrote in the 17th century: Men never do evil so willingly and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.[2]
When we don’t hear ourselves as both the psalmist and the psalmist’s enemy, we end up in a nasty place where our so-called, so-enacted righteousness defines God’s righteousness.
And yet we dare pray with dear David…
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting. (vv. 23-24)
Such is our dare to God, who then says to us…
You have heard it said that you should love your neighbors and hate your enemies,
but I say to you, you shall love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Mt 5.43-44)
The One who said this knows and searches you and has you hemmed in… not with hate and judgment, but with grace, forgiveness, and love.
The One who said this opened his arms to you and to all on the cross, taking your sin and death up himself and giving you his life.
This One has you hemmed in with forgiveness that is inescapable, with love that is inescapable.
S.D. Giere
Associate Professor of Homiletics and Biblical Interpretation
Wartburg Theological Seminary, Dubuque, IA
[1] I am grateful for conversation with Pr. Matthew Agee, Church of Our Savior, Fond du Lac, WI, which helped this sermon to crystalize.
[2] Blaise Pascal, Pensées, 14.895. "Jamais on ne fait le mal si pleinement et si gaiement que quand on le fait par conscience."
[You may want to read all of Psalm 139 as part of engaging this sermon]
Psalm 139: “O Lord, you search and you know me…” (v. 1)
God is not far off, but close. Deeply close. Intimately close. Perhaps uncomfortably close.
There is no thought that you or I can think,
no action that you or I can do,
no prejudice that you or I can hold,
no place that you or I can go,
that God does not know…
where God does not go.
God hems us in.[1] Behind and before.
Even in the deathly depths of Sheol, God is there.
Even if we cover ourselves with darkness attempting to shut out all light,
the darkness that we create… that we seek is as the light of day to God.
Even from before your infant eyes open to the blurred light of day, God knows you intricately.
“O Lord, you search and you know me…” (v. 1)
It would be unjust to the psalm not to read to the end.
For with bravado the psalmist prays this prayer with an eye and an ear toward the destruction of the enemy. With swagger, the psalmist associates his enemy with God’s enemy, saying:
Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies. (vv.21-22)
Such self-righteous bravado is the stuff upon which crusades and pogroms and hate speech and exclusion and divisions are built upon. Pascal wrote in the 17th century: Men never do evil so willingly and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.[2]
When we don’t hear ourselves as both the psalmist and the psalmist’s enemy, we end up in a nasty place where our so-called, so-enacted righteousness defines God’s righteousness.
And yet we dare pray with dear David…
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting. (vv. 23-24)
Such is our dare to God, who then says to us…
You have heard it said that you should love your neighbors and hate your enemies,
but I say to you, you shall love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Mt 5.43-44)
The One who said this knows and searches you and has you hemmed in… not with hate and judgment, but with grace, forgiveness, and love.
The One who said this opened his arms to you and to all on the cross, taking your sin and death up himself and giving you his life.
This One has you hemmed in with forgiveness that is inescapable, with love that is inescapable.
S.D. Giere
Associate Professor of Homiletics and Biblical Interpretation
Wartburg Theological Seminary, Dubuque, IA
[1] I am grateful for conversation with Pr. Matthew Agee, Church of Our Savior, Fond du Lac, WI, which helped this sermon to crystalize.
[2] Blaise Pascal, Pensées, 14.895. "Jamais on ne fait le mal si pleinement et si gaiement que quand on le fait par conscience."