12 March 2021

Lent 4, 12.3.21 – Psalm 139, 16-22

 

Your eyes saw all my actions,

they were all of them written in your book;

every one of my days was decreed

before one of them came into being.

To me, how mysterious your thoughts,

the sum of them not to be numbered!

If I count them, they are more than the sand;

to finish, I must be eternal, like you.

…slight problem ahead.  Your eyes saw all my actions, they were all of them written in your book.  So I am five years old, back in Sunday school, with a dear lady informing me that God is watching everything I do, writing it all in his book, even what I think – that last bit always seemed specially unfair to me, a serious invasion of privacy.  In later years it was to find that some people do actually believe that God hovers there, all-knowing, with a plan, a blueprint, specially for them… and they live in anxiety lest they are departing from it.  The other great corollary is that, if you do what God doesn’t like, or follow some plan of your own, there are consequences, you get punished.  These days, even in the secular culture, there is the constant litany that some “karma” is at work – “what goes around comes around” -- and we should help it along a bit -- we must find out who did wrong (unless it’s us) in order to ensure that they “are accountable” and suffer accordingly.  I think this view of God and of “justice” is something we acquire, perhaps from infancy, even from the church.  every one of my days was decreed, writes this Psalmist, before one of them came into being.  Really? 

Well, the Psalmist saw this divine surveillance as a wonderful strength and comfort.  He writes… he sings of God… lovingly, trustingly.  He is not afraid.  What is written about him in God’s book will be merciful and understanding.  But what follows now in this Psalm is, to say the least, abrupt and discordant.  There is right and wrong, he firmly believes, there is good and evil, and there are consequences.  So we get this jarring passage:

O God, that you would slay the wicked!

Keep away from me, violent hands!

With deceit they rebel against you

and set your designs at naught.

Do I not hate those who hate you,

abhor those who rise against you?

I hate them with a perfect hate

and they are foes to me.

You won’t find those verses in the NZ Anglican Prayer Book.  They were expunged, back in about 1989, along with various other chunks of the Book of Psalms, as “unsuitable for use in the corporate worship of the church”.[1]  But they reflect the ways we sometimes feel.  Do we seriously think we need to censor our thoughts and reactions in prayer, as though God is so easily shocked, or too dim to understand us in our frequent frailty or fury?  Indeed, the best thing to do with our violent negativities is just that, to bear them into God’s presence, lay them down there and watch them start to change.  C S Lewis wrote:  …naively, almost childishly, (Psalm) 139, in the middle of its hymn of praise throws in, “Wilt thou not slay the wicked, O God?” – as if it were surprising that such a simple remedy for human ills had not occurred to the Almighty.

Well, best of all, we can remember that the pinnacle of God’s unveiling, in Jewish faith and in Christ, is that hatred, enmity and violence are replaced by love and mercy – and that is the true reflection of God.  I am he who blots out your transgressions, says Isaiah, and I will not remember your sins.[2]

We learn in this Psalm that it is good to be seen by God, known, understood and loved, by the Creator who made us for that purpose.  Jesus lived and showed the God he called Father, and their mutual love and trust.[3]  In the stillness and silence of Christian Meditation we have space to be present also, in love and confidence, to God who sees and watches.

Miles Coverdale (1535)

Thine eyes se myne vnparfitnesse, they stonde all writte i thy boke:  my dayes were fashioned, when as yet there was not one of them.  How deare are yi coucels vnto me o God?  O how greate is the summe of them?  Yf I tell them, they are mo in nombre then the sonde: when I wake vp, I am present with the. 

 

Wilt thou not slaye ye wicked (oh God) that the bloudethyrstie mighte departe fro me?  For they speake vnright of the, thine enemies exalte them selues presumptuously.  I hate them (o LORDE) that hate the, & I maye not awaye with those that ryse vp agaynst the?  Yee I hate them right sore, therfore are they myne enemies.

 



[1] A New Zealand Prayer Book (HarperOne 1997), p.195

[2] Isaiah 43:25.  See also Hosea, ch.11.

[3] The saddest aspect of the Prince Harry and Meghan crisis of 3/21 was surely when Harry said of his father, “He would not accept my calls”. 

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