"Longer" is a Lie Unless God is Singing It

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you

Dan Folgerberg's "Longer" is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written. It is deeply moving and profoundly passionate. Who could hear this song and not be touched?

There is just one problem with the song: It is not true!

Even if we allow for romantic exaggeration, no human being could ever love like this. The love expressed in this song has its origin in eternity. A human could sing this only if he or she had been alive before the big bang (or at the very least, before the formation of this world). It expresses a love before creation, before time - a love as ancient as the universe.

Even though the love described in "Longer" is humanly impossible, there is a reason a song like this touches us so deeply. This is the kind of love we long for - the kind of love we sing about and dream about.

Only God could possibly love like this. And the good news is: God does!

Psalm 139

The composer of Psalm 139 has written a love song that, like "Longer," speaks of strong and passionate love. But unlike "Longer," he is not stretching the truth. If anything, he cannot say enough as he speaks of his personal encounter with God's infinite attributes, in particular, God's omniscience and omnipresence.

He sees himself as one who lives under the steady gaze of an all-knowing God - a God who knows everything he does (2a), everything he thinks (2b), everywhere he goes (3), every word he says (4). He stands completely exposed before the omniscient God (5). His initial reaction to this complete invasion of privacy is conflicted. He experiences both wonder (6) and fear (7).

His experience of God is that of a pervasive presence that is inescapable. God transcends and fills the heavens and the earth (8-11). There is no place he can go where God is not. Even in his darkest and most difficult times, God is there. Though he may not be able to see God, God always sees him.

It is fascinating to reflect upon how the psalmist speaks of God's infinite attributes of omniscience and omnipresence. He does not use the abstract language of metaphysics or approach God with the detachment of a philosopher, but rather, he uses the language of love, devotion, and personal experience. His experience of God is not abstract, but profoundly personal, deeply relational. He stands under the scrutiny of a God who knows him perfectly and completely. He abides in the presence of a God who is always there, always available. Every dimension of his life is embraced by the omniscient and omnipresent God.

It is with this awareness that his reflections become even more personal. The reason why God invades and surrounds his life is that God is deeply invested in him as God's personal creation.

In his final reflection (Psalm 139:13-18) he dwells upon God's power. But like the previous sections of this psalm, he does not reflect upon God's power in abstract, metaphysical terms. Instead, he dwells on his personal experience of God's power as a unique creation of God.

To the psalmist, God is not just the creator of the heavens and the earth. No, God's investment in his life is more intimate and personal than this. God has personally supervised every aspect of his life.

He considers the divine oversight over every detail of his being, both physically and emotionally. "For it was you who formed my inward parts, you knit me together in my mother's womb" (13). God knows him emotionally ("inward parts" is literally "kidneys" which represents the seat of emotions). Like a skilled weaver, God has woven ("knit together") his physical being.

The psalmist is overwhelmed by the fact that his very being - body and soul - reveals God's sovereign superintendence, intense forethought, and attention to detail. This is even more fascinating when we realize that the psalmist knew nothing of modern science. There is no doubt that his thoughts would be even more intense had he known how detailed God's creation actually is. He knew nothing of cells, chromosomes, and DNA. He had never seen the pulsing heart of a living fetus on an ultrasound scan and probably never witnessed the delivery of a baby - an event that we moderns often speak of as a "miracle" in the ordinary course of nature. But he knew enough to be amazed that something as complicated as a human being could be put together in nine months inside a woman's body. He knew nothing of the wonders of the human skeletal system, the nervous system, digestive system, and respitory and circulatory systems. Add to this his ignorance in regard to the brain's intricate composition:

Of the roughly thirty-five thousand genes coded by the DNA in the human genome, half are expressed in the brain. There are about a hundred billion neurons in the brain, nerve cells, many with long dendritic extensions intricately interconnected with each other. Each neuron connects with about ten thousand other neurons. While the estimated number of stars in all the galaxies in the universe vastly exceeds the number of grains of sand on all the beaches of the world, the number of synaptic interconnections in a single human brain vastly exceeds the number of stars in our Milky Way: 10¹⁵ synapses versus about 10¹¹ stars.[1]

Though the psalmist knew so little, his rudimentary knowledge of the marvels of the human body led him to awe and wonder. Just as we tend to marvel at the wonders of creation, so the psalmist marvels at the beauty and wonder of his self. He sees himself as the direct work of God's hands! And this knowledge causes him to burst into doxology: "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well" (14). Old Testament scholar Derek Kidner comments that the Hebrew can be legitimately translated, "I praise you, for I am awesomely wonderful."

This awareness leads to a renewed perspective of God's knowledge and presence. He recognizes that God's thoughts are thoughts of love - vast and immeasurable, constant and enduring. Like a lover brooding over his beloved, so God thinks of him. He sees himself as an object in which the divine love rests - in which God is well-pleased.

God's thoughts toward him are vast and immeasurable. It is impossible to conceive the depth of God's pleasure in him. God's thoughts are "more than the sands of the beach." Yet, each one of them is "weighty." These deep thoughts of love encompass every detail of his life - a life that God has marvelously planned.

Now, he rests in God's constant presence. From the beginning to the end of his life, God's loving presence is constant and assured. From conception to resurrection (for the days ordained for him certainly include eternity!). From the womb to the tomb... and beyond. From the cradle to the grave... and into resurrection glory!

The climax of his thoughts rest in the fact that when he "comes to his end" - literally when "he awakes" which is often used in scripture as a metaphor for rising from death (Psalm 17:5) - even there, God is with him and for him. Truly, everything else may change, but God's loving presence remains the same. It is this kind of love that is embodied in Christ, for God so loved the world - and everyone in the world - that he gave his only begotten Son.

We can now see why Dan Folgerberg's love song resonates so deeply with us. Though his lyrics describe a love that is humanly impossible, it is this kind of love we desire. No one can know us or love us this deeply, intimately, and truly - no one, that is, except God.

No matter how deeply others know us, there are depths of our experience that no one can touch:

In the depth of the human heart, there is, and there must be, solitude.  There is a limit to the possible communion with another.  We never completely open up our nature to even our nearest and dearest.  In spite of ourselves, something is kept back.  It is not that we are untrue in this, and hide our inner self, but simply that we are unable to reveal ourselves entirely.  There is a bitterness of the heart that only the heart knows; there is a joy of the heart with which no stranger can meddle; there is a boundary beyond which even a friend who is as our own soul becomes a stranger.[2]

Black continues,

Human friendship has limits because of the real greatness of man. We are too big to be quite comprehended by another. There is always something in us left unexplained and unexplored. We do not even know ourselves, much less can another hope to probe into the recesses of our being...  Man's limitation is God's occasion.  Only God can fully satisfy the hungry heart of man.[3]

This is the love we long for, the love we crave. Augustine said it well, "You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find rest in you."

No one can love us like God can love us. I can't love anyone like this. I can't provide this kind of love for others. But God can. Only God can truly sing Folgerberg's lyrics and mean them. Indeed, "Longer" is a lie unless God is singing it. This is the primary relationship for which we were created.

Look at yourself, for you have a reason to praise God today! You are loved, cherished, valued, treasured, even doted over - with all your possibilities and all your weaknesses. This knowledge uplifts and inspires us.

And this is not true only for us. This is true for all people: Republicans, Democrats, Protestants, Catholics, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, male and female, young and old, etc. There is no one whom God does not cherish - no one is outside God's love.

We need to learn and embrace this in order that may not only rest in this love, but in order that we might reflect it to others. Desmond Tutu, speaking to a group of white Afrikaner businessmen, said, "My fervent wish for you is that one day you will come to know just how much God loves each of you. For when you comprehend that, you will be able to see how much God loves other people as well."[4]

May we come to treasure all those whom God treasures. And, in the words of Rob Bell, "May your whole life become a response to the truth that you've always been loved, you are loved, and you always will be loved. And may you know, may you know deep in the depths of your soul, that there's nothing you could ever do to make Him love you less."

From before time and into eternity, an ancient and yet ever new love has sung to you:

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you.

Only God could sing such lyrics and truly mean them. How will you respond to this love?

© Richard J. Vincent, 2008