Mortal Speaks To Eternal


A Sermon On:

Psalm 90


Adapted from work of same title

by

Walter Wangerin

in "Ragman And Other Cries Of Faith"



O Mighty God,

Creator - without beginning or ending!

You are so great and your works so mighty. They dazzle us to silence, and cause us to bow in prayer and meditation before you.

Holy, Eternal God.
We stand so far removed from comprehending you;
We are separated from fully knowing and grasping you;
Separated by level upon level of unfathomable reality.

You - great and majestic.
We - so small; level after level after level below you.

One level that separates us from you is the reality of an enormous universe.
Oh, we know some things about the sun and the stars. We can track their course, measure their temperature and size, date them, predict their death, observe their behaviour at the present.
But even these things, as we contemplate them, shrink us.
What are our travels and age and life and death beside these ragging balls of universe fire?
Tiny.
Tiny.
Insignificant.

Yet they, giant to us, are
Tiny
Tiny
Insignificant when placed beside you.

We - level after level after level below you.
Another level that separates us from your greatness, beyond the knowledge of these created things, is a question --"How did these created things come to be?" None of us were there to see it. How is it that you bulged the sun into place, shocked it at its heart and set it afire? With what word did you command it to be?
Oh, we have theories that we spout off, but that is all they are.
We are blind to the beginning of time.
Silenced.
In awe.

We - level after level after level below you.
And then this even greater level of separation, yet. One that leaves us shut out altogether, where we are simply left to gape and wonder:
That you, who made the sun, the great multitude of galaxies, and the hairs on the heads of our children -- you first created the space in which these things could be.

Ah, Mighty God!
Creating space where there was no space?
That is beyond our comprehension -- the creation of room, of space.

We cannot even begin to imagine a nothing in which not even space is. And the time in which all things move, come and go.

You alone can.
You -- level upon level above us.
Holy, mighty, immortal, eternal.
From whom the cosmos came.
On whom all depended for their founding.
By whom all things exist.

And in the face of all that, who are we?
But an instant in time - a mere moment, a speck in time.

A collection of a dribbling of moments.
Like one grain of sand lost at the edge of some vast desert.
Earth to earth
ashes to ashes
dust to dust

Swept away in the sleep of death;
Like the new grass of the morning - though in the morning we spring up, by evening we are dry and withered.
So quickly time passes and we fly away.
Vulnerable, expendable, temporary, bewildered.
So the greatness of all things makes us feel, O Lord.
We feel like some rat's tooth, utterly unworthy of any memory.

That is us.

And yet - we are seeking more.
To be a moment is not enough.
For you have created in us the longing for the eternal, the permanent.
You have put a desire for significance within our very bones.

At the end of another year we stand,
waiting,
wondering,
somewhat bewildered by it all.

We seek to regain our bearings.
We seek a secure foothold from which to reach up and grasp a new year.
We seek to number our days.
We seek a heart of wisdom of some sort.
We seek to sing for joy and to be glad in our days.

And so, at this last gasp of an expiring year, we stand on the gospel promise in wonderment, and reach out to you.
Wide eyed and filled with wonder we stand before you.
Silenced.
Overcome.

For you embrace us and our dribble of moments.
You stand at our birth, receiving us as infants into this created world.
And you stand by us throughout our lives.

For you made us.
And though we rebelled, you didn't abandon us.

Instead, you have become one with us in Jesus.In His birth, life, suffering, death, resurrection. Who receives us to Himself And brings us to you.And even now, you are among us through your Spirit.

Even as we pray -
- right now -
You are present for this prayer of ours,
breathed at this moment between the years.

Even as we pray, you are forming the answers to prayers that will be prayed in the future.

And You stand, even now, ready to receive us to yourself - that where you are we may also be.

Oh God, you are wonderful beyond describing.
Though you are at least 3 levels removed from our comprehension
Still
You
Love
Us.

You choose to notice us.

You bend down and scratch among the sands of time to scoop us up and cradle us close to your bosom.
You bend your boundless being, your infinity, into space and time, into things and history, to find us and preserve our lives.


Abba.
Abba Father.
How is it that you care for us?

So we whisper our prayers, astonished that it could make a difference to you,
Eternal Creator.
So now, in the name of Jesus, we raise our hearts to you and whisper,"May your favour rest upon us; Establish the work of our hands for us. Yes -- establish the work of our hands."
Take our will and mould it into your will.
Take our plans and bring them into line with your plans.
Take our dreams and set them aright.
Take our hopes and visions and wants and needs
and mould them after your perfect knowledge.

Take all our temporary, fleeting moments and place them on your eternal road.

So that our moments will become a part of something that endures;
So that our efforts become a part of your Kingdom work.
So that we build on the foundation that lasts.
So that, as a drop of rain in a stream becomes part of a torrent that runs to the ocean to fill it, so, too, our efforts and work will rush down to join the eternity that will bow before your throne and become a part of the new creation that will live and play and work and dance in your presence forever. Lord - be our dwelling place throughout the generations.

Establish the works of our hands.

Yes.

Establish them.