Two Views

The omnipresence of God--God's presense in every corner of creation--has long triggered two opposite reactions: great comfort, and great shame and fear. For some, knowing that God is always with them means that they have constant protection and love. For others, it means that God knows all their shameful secrets.

Check out these two Psalms--one ancient and attributed to King David, the other modern and penned by songwriter Greg Brown. How many of us haven't felt something from each of them at one point or another?

Psalm 139
(excerpts; Today's New International Version, copyright 2001, 2005 by International Bible Society. All rights reserved worldwide.)

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
[...]
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
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.
[...]
For 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.
[...]
Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.


Lord, I Have Made You A Place in my Heart
by Greg Brown; copyright 1997 Hacklebarney Music

Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
Among the rags and the bones and the dirt
There's piles of lies and the love gone from her eyes
And old moving boxes full of hurt.
Pull up a chair by the trouble and care
I got whiskey, you're welcome to some.

Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
But I don't reckon you're gonna come.
[...]
Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
So take a good look and then leave.
[...]
Lord if you made me, it's easy to see
Y'all make mistakes up above
But if I open the door
You will know that I'm poor
And my secrets are all that I own.

Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
And I hope that you leave it alone.

(Originally recorded by Greg Brown on "The Poet Game" from Red House Records)

Our faith cycles, from rejoicing in God's presence in our lives to rudely asking God to leave us alone, from echoing David to singing along with the narrator of Greg Brown's song.

Here's the thing though: even if our hearts look like the one described in the modern song, God's hand guides us and holds us fast. After all, "Blessed are the poor in spirit."

Childhood Lessons are often the Best

A few weeks ago on Heritage Sunday, we sang lots of hymns, and each one was submitted by a congregation member as the first hymn he or she remembers learning.

We've also had several people in our church family, including our extended church family, who have suffered various losses, stresses, worries, or concerns, including the loss of family members; some of our young people preparing to leave home for the larger world (both exciting and stressful!); illnesses; and neighbors, friends, or family members being deployed to various hot spots.

This is the perfect time to remember a song we could easily have sung on Heritage Sunday: "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands." It's a simple song, but in case you need a reminder, here's the basic verse:

He's got the whole world in his hands
He's got the whole wide world in his hands
He's got the whole world in his hands
He's got the whole world in his hands

The cool thing is that you can replace "the whole world" with just about anything you want. Some common variations:

• He's got you and me, Sister [or Brother], in his hands
• He's got the itty bitty baby in his hands
• He's got the wind and the rain in his hands

And on and on and on.

Here's another cool thing: The whole world that God has in his hands is way, way bigger than just this little round ball we call Earth. It's the past and the present and the future. It's those who have left us and those yet to come. And yet, even the itty bitty baby isn't too small for God's notice and won't slip through his fingers.

This really simple song has humongous implications, doesn't it? Isn't it amazing that something we learn as children can turn out to be deeply theological?

What verse do you need to sing right now to help you with your losses and stresses? Leave a comment (anonymous or not) with your new words to this old song.