Psalm 139 (with 1 Samuel and John1:43-51)
And yet, we are called. Each and every one of us here are called to be
witnesses of the many ways that God is revealed through Christ, and that Christ
is revealed as the Son of God. Each one of us is called to take part in that revelation.
Each of us is called to invite others to come and see.
Part of the discovery part of
epiphany remains not only to see who
Jesus is, but also how God, through
Jesus invites, engages and blesses us
in the work of the epiphany. Us. You and me. We who often feel ill-suited,
ill-equipped, and unequal to the task of discipleship. And yet, by the grace of
God, a God who knows us better than we know ourselves, not only is Jesus
revealed, but we are indeed called. Come, follow me.
Themes of God’s knowing and calling
are reflected today in both the Old Testament reading about the calling of
Samuel, and in the gospel text which forms the call story of both Phillip and
Nathaniel. God’s intimate knowledge of each individual shapes God’s call to each
as well.
In the Old Testament lesson we meet
the young boy, Samuel, as he is called by God, a God he doesn’t even know yet,
a God as yet unrevealed to him. God
persistently calls to him, until with the help of Eli, Samuel finally comes to understand
what is happening and is prepared to respond.
In our gospel lesson, an
inquisitive Philip is also called by Jesus, called to follow him. And then, Philip invites his friend Nathanael to come and see who this Jesus
is. Jesus engages conversation with Nathanael that reveals that Jesus knows too
much about Nathanael for Jesus to be anything but divine. So Nathanael, too,
hops on board as a disciple of Jesus, inviting others to “come and see.” So,
you probably see where this is going, right?
You and I each have our own call
story too, and we are invited to take part in revealing who Christ is to
others. We, too are supposed to invite those we meet to “come and see.” And yet
we know, don’t we, that we are not
prepared, not equipped, and on most days, feel unequal to the task of doing
what those disciples did. We live in a different time and place than
they did. We can’t do it. No!
And yet…..when it comes to calling the seemingly ill-equipped,
incapable, and unsuitable and making disciples of them, God has something like
xray vision. Because….
God’s “seeing” far surpasses anything
we know through what we experience as the sense of sight. God’s “sight” in fact,
renders God not only all-seeing, but all-knowing, all powerful and everywhere
present, and God “sees” us in ways that have to do with much more than mere sight,
in ways that are so vast and all-encompassing, in ways that we can never fully
explain or understand. All we can do is respond, and then like Philip, invite
others to Come and See for themselves.
God’s intimate knowledge of us, is truly, beyond our understanding. It goes to the core and essence of who we are,
not only as human beings set within the framework of families and human
systems, but also as eternally known and created, and eternally beloved of God.
The powerful words and images of
the psalm we read this morning describe God’s inscrutable way of knowing each
of us, and that knowledge is celebrated by the psalmist. The psalmist begins
with this confession:
“You have searched me, LORD, and
you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you
perceive my thoughts from afar.
You
discern my going out and my lying down;
you
are familiar with all my ways.”
God is indeed all-knowing; God
knows all about me. And you. And Samuel and
Phillip and Nathanael. All of us. None of the details of our lives, or our
character, of who we are or how we are formed is unknown to God.
In fact, the psalmist goes on,
“Before a word is on my tongue you,
LORD, know it completely.
You
hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.”
Picture the work of a potter, whose
hands enfold and surround a shapeless lump of clay, hands cupped behind and
before. Not only does the potter enfold the shifting footprint of the vessel,
but slowly, in ways both subtle and profound, the potter exerts creative energy
into the substance.
The potter shapes it, fashions it,
as an embryo is fashioned and shaped in the womb. As God has shaped and formed
each of us in God’s own creation and so, deeply, profoundly, knows us.
I remember holding each of my
children for the first time. I well remember my wonder at beholding each tiny
finger, each little toe. I remember breathing in the scent of their being, and
my amazement at the fully formed little human being who had so recently taken
up residence inside of me.
A little human being who, until his
birth, lacked identity. Except to God. For, long before the child took her
first breath, God knew her completely. Knew each hair and every wrinkle.
The words of this psalm remind us
of God’s intimate knowledge and deep relationship with each of God’s children
from the beginning….and even before then….in a relationship that will continue,
forever.
And yet, the truth of the matter is
the kind of knowledge that is described in this psalm elicits complex feelings
within us – “is too wonderful for me.” The following verses, which we did not
read this morning tell why.
Listen to these words:
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If
I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if
I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If
I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if
I settle on the far side of the sea,
even
there your hand will guide me,
your
right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will
hide me
and
the light become night around me,’
even
the darkness will not be dark to you;
the
night will shine like the day,
for
darkness is as light to you.”
Frankly, there are times when we, -
I - want desperately, to hide. I want to hide from my own thoughts and actions
which can be, let us say, less than flattering. I want to hide from my
weaknesses and my ignorance. I want to hide from my failures; from my sin; from
my infirmities and griefs.
According to the American
Psychiatric Association, I am not alone. Our desire and need to hide from what
ails us is evidenced by our often fatal attraction to and relationship with
mind-altering, pain-numbing, grief-escaping, self-medicating drug and alcohol
use and abuse and other destructive behaviors.
Seminary professor Shauna Hannan
writes,
“Some people struggle with a fear of
really being known even as they desire to be known. Some go to great lengths
not to be known by hiding their true identities even (especially?) from God. It
cannot be assumed that verse 7 is received as good news for all.
“Where can I go from your spirit? Or
where can I flee from your presence?”
“Being so close to God is as burdensome
as it is beautiful,” Hannan writes.
The Psalmist admits, one cannot flee from
the one for whom darkness does not overwhelm. Why would he flee from something
beautiful? For some the thought that God lurks and works even in dark places,”
like the “depths, or, as some translations render the word, “Sheol,” and in the
womb! might be burdensome.”
But our psalm continues,
“…
you created my inmost being;
you
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I
praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your
works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
This psalm reveals to us a God who
knows all that there is to know about us. “Knowing” and “knowledge of” are
critical elements of meaningful relationships, and this psalm reveals God’s
deep knowledge of every aspect of our being. And yet, knowing us so intimately,
still God loves us and God calls us to be God’s disciples. Come and see. Follow
me.
God calls to us in our hiding
places, in our sleep, in our waking, in our working. God’s creative powers
reside deep within us, seeking ongoing relationship with us;
God hems,
God
knits,
God
knows us intimately, is with us at all times.
We
are all works of God. Come and see.
From that very intimate, knowing,
discerning place, God comes to us and God calls us. As God persisted in calling
Samuel until Samuel was ready to hear the call; as Jesus called the earliest
disciples when they were open to following him. God, who knows our strengths
and weaknesses, who knows us with a knowing beyond all telling is calling us;
come and see
Come and see my beloved Son, the
one in whom I am well pleased. Follow him. Come and see. In the ordinary
encounters of our lives, every single person is an image of Christ, a piece of
the knowledge of God, possibilities to share the peace of God in the world.
And so, Jesus calls us to be
epiphany for others. Come and see.
Seeing and revelation are closely
tied; discovery and understanding are similarly related to one another. As
disciples of Christ, these terms and concepts are important to us – because
they tell us something about our relationship to this God who has come among us
and has pitched his tent with us, continually revealing profound love for all
the hurting places, helping us to discover the vast workings of God and God’s
continuing creative work within each of us – shaping us, forming us in ways
both subtle and profound.
Today begins the Week of Prayer for
Christian Unity. There is no time like the present to invite, to embrace, and
to extend the invitation for others to come and see. This news of a God who
knows us so intimately yet chooses to call us, chooses to invite us and chooses
to call us to do the same is amazing and exciting aspect of the revelation and
discovery of which we each play a part. May you be the epiphany light that shines the light on the Messiah, Jesus
Christ, the one who came that all might
have life. Amen.
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