Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Presented On: 
January 15, 2012
Written by: 
Pastor Lex Liberatore

Psalm 139 is about God’s sacred call to each of us. And that call begins deep within. Today, not only do we have the psalm, we remember the life and witness of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. History places Dr. King far above the average person – and that’s a shame. According to the psalm, all of us are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Our Heavenly Architect gives each of us a piece of the just and righteous energy of the one who “knew us before we were born.” Certainly, Dr. King excelled at finding his divine center in a way few Americans have before or since. But, this shouldn’t be an excuse not to try. There are no “people” of God without the dedication and giftedness of the “person.” Dr. King knew the importance of the person in the ongoing story of God with us. God is telling us to follow Dr. King, not placer him on a pedestal.
Dr. King began, as we all do, with an imperfect life. Like King David, the author of Psalm 139; Dr. King’s life included mistakes, as well as some poor personal choices. Yet, God works marvels with unexpected players. Truly, both David, the youngest and least among his brothers, and Rev. Dr. King, an equally unknown, were both able, with God’s help, to overcome their flaws and stand with their Creator.
In Psalm 139, our Creator knows us through and through, “O Lord, you have searched me and know me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away…You form my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” This psalm is a celebration of all created order, all divinely imagined life. None of us can escape from God. The story of Christmas and beyond tells us what it means to have God with us. The Good News of such a God demands our attention. No longer merely Sunday servants, people who sit in worship and give thanks and offerings without any skin in the game. The one who knows us well expects more. Through the Prophet Amos God scolded our ancestors for taking their God for granted in much the same way, “I turn away from your prayers and refuse your offerings, until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.” Still, doesn’t David declare, “God you’re so vast, too great to understand?” Believe me, David isn’t pushing God away, he’s doubling down. He embraces the divine spark, his Creator’s hand molding and shaping his inmost reality. David’s engaged, working hard to keep God’s powerful, creative presence before him, directing him, and informing his actions, thoughts and dreams; especially his dreams.
When Dr. King declared over two-thousand years later, “I have a dream today,” he was tapping into this same deep well of creation, a dream for all of us, stretching into the very depths of living and beyond. But Dr. King’s dream wasn’t for himself. He saw a greater purpose for his life, both as a person and as part of a people. He served a God who, like a warm embrace, “hems (us) in, behind and before, laying (a) hand upon (each one of us).”
Yet, within the whole of Psalm 139 there are hard words omitted from today’s reading. In those verses, David calls on God to “kill the wicked,” and speaks about “hating God’s enemies with a perfect hate.” Here, we see the dangers of being religious fanatics. King David and Dr. King could’ve easily twisted the sacred story, neatly aligning it with their wishes and their desires, while building their own personal power-base. History shows many more examples of men and women forcing God to serve them, rather than the other way around.
At the heart of Psalm 139 are the saints who’ve come before us. David the King, but especially Dr. King, fix their sights not on what’s easy and convenient, but on what’s harder and greater. Dr. King’s vision, his dream, is for a day where God’s dream for all creation will be ours. “This will be the day,” Dr. King declared in 1963, “when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my father’s died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring…And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we’ll be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we’re free at last! "’