- Read Psalm 140 from the ESV.
- Read my Psalm 140 poem from A New Song.
When I read Psalm 140 I am reminded of Esther, Mordecai, and Haman, the three main characters in the book of Esther. Esther was a beautiful young Jewish maiden who became a consort to King Xerxes; Mordecai was Esther’s adopted father and had uncovered a conspiracy to assassinate the king; Haman was an arrogant man trying to find favor in the kings eyes. Haman didn’t like Mordecai because he wouldn’t bow down to him, so he plotted to have the king kill Mordecai. But, in an ironic twist of fate, he hung on the very gallows which Haman had constructed for the hanging of Mordecai.
Those who know the story, however, will know that it wasn’t an “ironic twist of fate” which caused Haman to hang but it was the voice of Esther, along with the voices of many Jews praying to God that turned the tables on Haman. His death was the work of God borne on the voices and prayers of numerous lowly and unnamed slaves.
I’ve often found myself wondering if I really matter. I mean, when I think about the sheer numbers of people, living and dead, who populate, and have populated this earth, I am really fairly insignificant. There may be a few hundred, maybe a few thousand people who know that I am alive and have lived, but in fifty or a hundred years that number will most likely be zero. Even if a five thousand, people know of my existence in this lifetime, it’s still a fairly small percentage (about .00003% of the total world population — about sixteen billion living and dead). Perhaps Albert Camus was right and this universe is benign and indifferent and we are insignificant.
I wonder if it is possible to think that Camus was both right and horribly wrong at the same time?
This universe is most likely benign and indifferent about me. The trees do not care about my existence. Elements from the ground do not care about me. The atmosphere, the oceans, precious metals, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and clods of mud do not care whether I have lived or not. Space dust doesn’t have the capacity to care a tinker’s cuss about anything that goes on anywhere in the universe. And in like manner, anything we manage to create from the elements of this universe sits silently without a care for their creators. This much Camus had right.
But if we think that is the end of the story — that there is nothing greater than us inside or outside of this universe that cares — then we are horribly mistaken. God, the creator of this benign and indifferent universe cares deeply for us. And his care and love are unrelated to the number of people who happen to know you in your lifetime. Our lives and voices do matter to him. In fact, he listens deliberately and closely to each and every one of us, not just to the Esthers and Mordecais of this world. He listens to those of us who will only ever be known by a couple of hundred other humans in our lifetime — even though at times it may not feel that he does.
Read Psalm 140 again and you will find David crying out to God how he is being persecuted by evil, violent, arrogant men. He compares them to a serpent with venom awaiting just the right moment when they can strike (much like a very famous snake in a garden so many years ago). But even while in the midst of his troubles, David asks for God to hear his cry for mercy. And David doesn’t wonder if God will hear him, he knows God will because he knows God loves the afflicted, the needy, the righteous, and the upright. These aren’t the sort of people history remembers, and certainly not the ones a benign indifferent universe cares for, but remember…the universe doesn’t take notice of anyone. Not even the most popular human to ever live…not Elvis, Alexander the Great, Michael Jackson, Barney, or really anyone else. God knows and cares for all people, even the unknown masses.
And while David makes numerous comments about those pursuing him, they are not the point of this psalm. David’s point is that God listens to the lowly and afflicted. He listens to us when we are in pain and when we are persecuted. Yet, he not only listens but he takes care of us as well, if only we call out to him and not throw our hands up in surrender to a benign and indifferent universe.
I realize these words can easily fall into the “nice platitudes” category and might be mistaken for something found on a bumper sticker or greeting card. (albeit a very long one with tiny print!) And I would agree if it weren’t for the fact that every promise God makes he keeps. It doesn’t take a very close reading of the Bible to realize that those who always break their promises are the people. God, on the other hand, is steadfast, he perseveres, is unchanging, and is ever-present. His eternal plan (Eph. 3:11) has always been to reconcile humanity to himself, so that we are able to approach his throne with our every need (Eph. 3:12). Furthermore, if we hadn’t broken with God in the garden and sought wisdom elsewhere in the universe, we would still be able to walk with him, daily receiving his wisdom, love, and protection. His promises are eternal, and when he promises to listen to the work of his hands (Psalm 139), then we can rest, knowing that he will never break that promise — he will always answer our prayers (Psalm 138).
We don’t need to be an Esther or Mordecai for God to hear us. We don’t need to be Elvis, Alexander, or Barney. We can be the small statistically insignificant person that most of us actually are and know that the loving eternal God in whose image we have been created will listen to our voices. And how do we know this? Because his promises, like him, are eternal and unchanging.
