Fearfully And Wonderfully Made: A Life Of Full Belonging
Opening Words To A Grieving Room
We gather today carrying something heavy. Grief is not a small thing, and no one here should pretend otherwise. The loss of someone we love leaves a silence that words cannot fill. So before anything else, let me simply say this: your sorrow is real, your love was real, and the life we are remembering today was real in every way that matters.
We come to Scripture not to escape grief but to bring it somewhere trustworthy. The Bible does not ask us to stop weeping. It asks us to weep with hope, and that is a different thing entirely.
Reading The Text
Our foundation today is two passages of Scripture. The first is Psalm 139, verses 13 through 18, from the Christian Standard Bible.
"For it was you who created my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I will praise you because I have been remarkably and wondrously made. Your works are wondrous, and I know this very well. My bones were not hidden from you when I was made in secret, when I was formed in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw me when I was formless; all my days were written in your book and planned before a single one of them began. God, how precious your thoughts are to me; how vast their sum is. If I counted them, they would outnumber the grains of sand; when I wake up, I am still with you."
The second text is First Corinthians 12, verses 21 through 26.
"The eye cannot say to the hand, I don't need you! Or again, the head can't say to the feet, I don't need you! On the contrary, those parts of the body that are weaker are indispensable. And those parts of the body that we consider less honorable, we clothe these with greater honor, and our unrespectable parts are treated with greater respect, which our respectable parts do not need. Instead, God has arranged the body so that he gives greater honor to the less honorable, so that there would be no division in the body, but that the members would have the same concern for each other. So if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it."
This is the Word of God.
The Maker's Mark
David wrote Psalm 139 as a man overwhelmed by the closeness of God. He is not writing a theology textbook. He is writing a prayer from the inside of a life that felt fully known and fully held. And what he says about human formation is stunning in its specificity.
God did not stand at a distance and observe the process. He was the process. He knit. He formed. He saw. He planned. Every word David uses is the language of a craftsman who is personally invested in what he is making. There is no stage of development, no variation of human capacity, no condition of the body or the mind that falls outside the reach of that creative attention.
The person we are remembering today was knit together by those same hands. Not assembled by accident. Not formed as a lesser version of something else. Knit together, which is the language of intention and care, by the God who does not make mistakes and does not waste material.
Some people in this world, and perhaps some thoughts have crossed our own minds in harder moments, quietly wonder whether a person with an intellectual disability is somehow less fully human, less fully known by God, less fully the object of divine love. The Psalm answers that question before we finish asking it. God's eyes saw this person when they were formless. Every day was written in his book. His thoughts toward this person outnumber the grains of sand. That is not a partial love. That is not a conditional love. That is the love of a Creator who made exactly what he intended to make and called it wondrous.
The Body That Cannot Say "I Don't Need You"
Paul's letter to the Corinthians was written to a church that had begun sorting its members by usefulness. Some gifts seemed impressive. Some seemed small. Some people appeared indispensable. Others were quietly overlooked. Paul will not allow it.
He uses the human body as his image, and he makes a point that cuts against every instinct we have to rank people by what they can produce. He says the parts of the body we consider weaker are indispensable. The parts we consider less honorable receive greater honor. God himself has arranged the body this way, Paul says, so that there would be no division, so that every member would carry the same concern for every other member.
This is not sentiment. This is theology. The church, and by extension the community of people who loved the one we mourn today, is not a collection of individuals sorted by ability. It is a body. And in a body, the eye cannot say to the hand, I do not need you. The head cannot say to the feet, you are not necessary here.
The person we remember today belonged. Not because they earned belonging. Not because they could perform belonging. But because God arranged it so. Their presence among the people who loved them was not charity given downward. It was membership in something whole. When they suffered, those who loved them suffered. When they brought joy, and they did bring joy, those around them rejoiced. That is exactly what Paul describes. That is the body functioning as God designed it.
Speaking Honestly About What We Do Not Know
Pastoral honesty requires that I say something carefully here. I did not know this person. I cannot speak with certainty about the inner life of faith that may or may not have been present. What I can say is this: God is the judge of every human heart, and he is a good judge. He knows what we cannot know. He sees what was never visible to us. He weighs what we cannot measure.
What Scripture does tell us is that Jesus Christ came into this world to seek and to save the lost, that he died for sinners, that he rose from the dead, and that he is able to save completely those who come to him. The gospel is not a test of intellectual performance. It is a gift of grace received through faith, and the God who knit this person together in the womb is the same God who holds every soul in his hands.
We entrust this person to that God today. Not reluctantly. Not with uncertainty about whether God is good. But with the confidence that the one who made them knows them fully and loves them completely.
A Word To Those Who Are Still Here
If you are in this room today and you have never placed your trust in Jesus Christ, I want to speak to you plainly and without pressure. The grief in this room is a reminder that life is not permanent and that what comes after it matters. The gospel is simply this: God loves you, you have sinned and fallen short of his glory, Jesus died to pay what you owe, and he rose again so that death would not have the final word. If you will turn from your sin and trust him, he will receive you. Not because you are impressive. Not because you have earned it. Because he is gracious.
You can speak to me or to any of the pastors here today if you want to know more.
Closing
The Psalm ends with a line that is easy to pass over. "When I wake up, I am still with you." David is speaking of waking from sleep, but the early church heard in those words a deeper promise. When we wake from the sleep of death, we are still with God. The maker does not abandon what he has made.
The life we remember today was fearfully and wonderfully made. It belonged to a body of people who loved and were loved in return. And it belongs now to the God who planned every day of it before a single one of them began.
That is not a small comfort. That is the ground we stand on.
Let us pray.
Sources Consulted
Allen, Leslie C. Psalms 101-150. Word Biblical Commentary. Word Books, 1983.
Fee, Gordon D. The First Epistle to the Corinthians. New International Commentary on the New Testament. Eerdmans, 1987.
Goldingay, John. Psalms, Volume 3: Psalms 90-150. Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms. Baker Academic, 2008.
Thiselton, Anthony C. The First Epistle to the Corinthians. New International Greek Testament Commentary. Eerdmans, 2000.
Waltke, Bruce K., and James M. Houston. The Psalms as Christian Worship: A Historical Commentary. Eerdmans, 2010.
Before preaching: verify every biblical reference, replace general language only with family-approved details, and adapt the message to your own Christian tradition and pastoral voice.