The Inescapable God Scripture Passage: Psalm 139 Salem Presbyterian Church Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost The Rev. Nicole C. Ball Until this point in my time as Church Relations Officer, I ve dodged various tragic events which have occurred in our nation and around the world. And, in fact, I had everything planned to push play on what I thought would be a wonderfully crafted sermon about Psalm 139, how we might learn to live more fully into being known by God the creator and sustainer of life. I had every intention to share with you about the good work being done at Union Presbyterian Seminary, and the stories of those who have answered the call to live and serve to share about God s inescapable love. But Friday night, my husband and I pulled into a beautiful home at Wintergreen resort near Waynesboro, Virginia, to greet the other young adults gathered there. We had really been looking forward to a weekend to share with these dear friends with whom we ve created significant community and support over the last year and a half. It was hard to miss the conversation happening in the living room when we arrived. CNN was on the television and we sat to hear and catch up on the news that was happening just across the great pond from us. I quickly checked my Facebook feed and saw several posts swirling about with news organizations updating on death tolls, current hostage situations and who was suspected of such an attack. It was horrifying to watch the surveillance videos from the concertgoers at the Bataclan Concert Hall or the confusion on the faces of the pro soccer players who heard the blasts outside of the stadium but continued to play their game. This morning, as I checked the news on CNN for an update on the situation, I felt sickened to see so many opportunities to watch those victims of the attacks minutes before, with titles which read, concertgoer clings to ledge as shots ring out or photos from a night of terror. That first evening we shared our collective grief about the situation as a group. Some of us knew of friends or family members in the Paris area and
were able to report of their safety. We lamented about the way the world has seemed to turn into an endless stream of bad things happening to good people. And then, slowly but surely, we all retired to bed. I ll be honest with you, at that point in our weekend, we moved on. It was hard not to miss the various updates from social media platforms: seeing friends don the blue, white and red on their Facebook profiles, or hashtags circulating to connect folks around the world stating, #prayforparis. But it seemed so far away and inaccessible to our current situation, so we continued with our weekend. We had a great time. Some of us went to shop and enjoy lunch; another group went on a hike. We went to a local cider for a tasting, then returned to have dinner. We sat near the fire and worshipped with one another, shared prayer requests, we gathered and shared the Lord s Supper. All this time, however, it felt as if we were connected with those people and cities around the world, waking to the reality that the past events were real and their lives would be forever changed. And yet, we felt so distant. Those of us in that small group this weekend, our personal lives were not affected by the attacks. We did not lose a parent, child, or classmate. We did not sit awake across the globe, waiting for the names of those killed in each attack to be released. This feeling that I reflect on with you at this very point in time, of disconnection, of being unaffected, is numbing. Perhaps you might feel the same way. I can use the darkest parts of my imagination, or tap into the feelings of hopelessness and misery from things in my own past, in an attempt to try and muster some inkling of feeling connected with those around the world whose lives are an endless stream of suffering from senseless war, famine, or death. And I really hate to use the words of feeling fortunate, or feeling blessed, or feeling like God is on my side, but I would be lying to you if I didn t believe it to be true, some days if not most. If I can truly put my finger on the feeling that I feel this day it s that I grieve with my sisters and brothers around the world who may believe, daily, that the God who created from chaos in the beginning of time, is distant. And removed. And who does not hear their prayers, who cannot answer their laments, who does not intervene for them. I grieve with them, feelings of being abandoned. And forgotten.
O that you would kill the wicked, O God, and that the bloodthirsty would depart from me those who speak of you maliciously and lift themselves up against you for evil. Do I not hate those who you hate, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with a perfect hatred; I count them mine enemies. 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. This morning I would have thought the Psalm started here with these words. I wanted them to start here. O God, that you would act and intervene for those helpless and innocent. O God, that you would turn the hearts of the wicked and see the destruction and chaos they impart! O God, that you would move so powerfully that all would see your strength, that YOU are God alone. And that violence, hatred, and terror does nothing but destroy us as people, your beautiful creation. But these are not the opening words to the Psalm. Instead, this Psalmist begins with praise, a vulnerable acknowledgement of the divine power and sovereignty of the living God. (Reread vv. 1-18). This morning I had a hard time beginning with praise. As I pondered the reality that I would be standing before you this very day, bringing God s Word in a new and relevant way, praise and acknowledging God for God s sovereignty and steadfastness were not the first key strokes I had in mind. I woke this morning reciting the last three verses. Shaking my hands at God, feeling the tension between being removed from the terror of Paris and Beirut, while feeling grief for all those affected. But rereading the important lesson in verses 1-18 reminded me of the faith required to trust that God is not far away, God is not removed, nor is God a distant God. God created and was in the beginning with this Psalmist, with the Israelites, with early Christians and with this community. God is everpresent and does not flee even as I, or you, or we try to flee. God has made careful plans, is constant for us all, and will continue to be the reason why we live, and move, and have breath. God is inescapable. In this psalm, we see a God-consciousness that is not highly intellectualized but rather wrapped up neatly: God is present, alive, and tangible in a frighteningly pragmatic way.
The good news, dear friends, is that our faith inspires us to trust that God is with us, all of us, always. God is with the families of the victims suffering from the horrible attacks this weekend. God is with people around the world who understand the realities of war and destruction. God is with those of us who struggle to make ends meet, to provide for our families, to keep the utilities running through the season. God is with those of us who wrestle with addiction, and loyalty in our relationships, who feel the pressure of expectations at work. God is with us through this life, from creation in chaos to the very end when we take our last breath. God knows us intimately and loves us ceaselessly. Our God is inescapable. And I do bring good news from the work of the students, faculty and staff of Union Presbyterian Seminary. Moved by the events of Paris this weekend, the students held a community vigil in the Watts Chapel Friday night. Wrapped in darkness apart from candlelight, the students gathered for prayer and Scripture reading to witness to the power of love through Jesus Christ. It s hard to continue to believe in this day and age; in our pluralistic, rational-thinking world, these students face scrutiny and questions about what it means to be a modern-day Christian, how they see God moving in the dire straits of the current world order, and why might they possibly continue a life in ministry. And we, as the faithful in the pews, challenge them and look towards them to be our great leaders in desperate times, to help us revive the church, to have answers to the questions about terror, and hatred, and violence, to renew us with fresh perspective to nourish our dwindling member rosters. And they welcome this challenge with a resounding, YES! And they are inspired by a call to live into their faith, to profess love and community, to witness to the redeeming work of God throughout time and even today. They re motivated to praise the sovereignty of God, first. Friends, believe the Good News that God is alive and is at work in the world around us. God is not far from us, God is not removed from our suffering or the suffering of those in this community and abroad. May we be emboldened by God s ceaseless love to grieve alongside our sisters and
brothers, to profess love and community, and to praise God, first. Thanks be to God.