"In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also. The sea is his, for he made it.” Psalm 95:4–5
Last Sunday in worship, we sang He's
Got the Whole World in His Hands. A timeless favorite!
I have fond memories of
singing it as a child at camp. For one, it had some groove to it. Second, it
was one of those songs with words simple enough that we sometimes sang it not
in German, but in English. For a young kid in rural Switzerland, English carried
the exciting scent of the wide world. Singing and praying in English could turn
a camp kid from the Swiss countryside into a glowing cosmopolitan.
Third, we loved all the
variations in the verses—"the little tiny baby"—and making up our
own. It was the kind of song you could sing on and on forever and ever,
hallelujah, hallelujah.
Until you grow up.
And suddenly you realize: I'm
not sure I can sing that anymore with a clean conscience and an adult faith.
It's not just the obvious
question: Does God literally have hands? It's also that you look around at the
world. With injustices and terrible things happening all around us—and
sometimes very close to us—how can anyone sing that God is holding this world in
God's hands?
It sounds like wishful
thinking.
Reality is harsh. Terrible things happen. Not just in
distant places. Sometimes it’s the phone call in the middle of a lazy afternoon
that turns your whole life upside down. It’s our neighbors having to
decide whether to go buy groceries or fill up their gas tank.
And then there is another
objection. Isn't this image of God "holding the world" theologically
suspicious? Doesn't it risk making us passive? "Don't worry, it's all in
God's hands." An invitation to close our eyes, ignore the fragility of
this beautiful planet, and assume that nothing we do really matters.
If God has the whole world in
God's hands, then why should my little human hands make any difference?
And so years pass.
Until one day you find
yourself in a worship service, at a gospel concert, or somewhere else entirely,
and this old children's song starts up again. And before you know it, you're
singing. Maybe even clapping along.
It's as if there is a
deep-seated muscle memory in your praying faith that bypasses all your
intellectual objections.
There is something within you
that still wants to sing these words.
And you realize something: You
don't sing these words because the world actually looks like God is holding it
all together. It often doesn't. And it certainly doesn't always feel that way.
You sing these words because
you want it to be true.
You sing them because they are
not a statement about how the world is.
They are an affirmation of
faith.
And affirmations of faith are
not sung from the theological armchair. They are sung in the arena.
In the arena where people of
faith gather with their small faith and their large doubts. In the arena where
people roll up their sleeves, show up for their neighbors, care for creation,
comfort the grieving, and work for justice.
It is precisely because we
trust that God holds the whole world in God's hands that we dare to use our own
little hands and feet.
And we trust that the little
things done with great love truly can make a difference.
God's got the whole world in God's hands.
Prayer: God, hold this fragile world in your love, and teach us to use our hands for healing. Amen
Rev. Thomas Dummermuth
