Close Enough to Taste

We're not recording sermons right now, so I wanted to write up a quick recap of Sunday's message for anyone who missed it or wants to revisit it.

If you asked most people to describe God in three words, I doubt "warm," "close," or "good" would make the list. More likely you'd hear judgmental. Distant. Scary. A cosmic rule-checker waiting for you to slip up so he can write it down somewhere.

I get why people land there. But it's worth asking: is that a picture of God they've actually experienced, or one they've just absorbed secondhand?

King David, the ancient Israelite king who wrote much of the book of Psalms, didn't have that problem. Psalm 34 wasn't written by a man guessing about God from a safe distance. He wrote it after one of the most humiliating moments of his life, pretending to be insane in front of a Philistine king just to save his own skin (1 Samuel 21, if you want the backstory). Out of that, he writes three lines that describe what it's actually like to know this God up close. Not theory. Experience.

You draw near, not away

"The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and rescues them" (Psalm 34:7, CSB).

We hear "fear the Lord" and quietly translate it as keep your distance. But look at what the verse actually says. Fearing him results in being surrounded, encamped around, rescued. That's nearness language, not distance language.

Think about a campfire. You don't respect a fire by staying away from it. You respect it while sitting right next to it, because that's where the warmth is. I learned this the hard way on a camping trip years ago, watching a buddy sit with his feet up on the rocks ringing the fire, chatting away, not paying attention to anything below his ankles. Someone yelled. We looked over. Smoke was coming off his shoes. The soles had melted through.

That story isn't an argument for staying away from fire. It's an argument for respecting something powerful while you're close to it. Carelessness isn't toughness, and respect isn't distance. Fearing God rightly means drawing near to something magnificent, not backing toward the exit.

You find out he's actually good

"Taste and see that the Lord is good. How happy is the person who takes refuge in him!" (Psalm 34:8, CSB).

Taste. Not "hear about." Not "take my word for it." You have to try it yourself.

Every parent or grandparent has seen this: the kid who won't try something new, arms crossed, absolutely certain they won't like it. Then one bite happens, and you watch their whole face change. That "how have I been missing this my entire life" look. Now they want more. And more.

That's the gap between hearing God is good and tasting that he's good. You can sit in church for decades and still be running on secondhand information. Tasting is something you do. Read a psalm slowly and thank God for one specific line about who he is. Name an actual moment of his kindness from the past month instead of letting it slide by unnoticed. Sit quietly for five minutes with no requests attached, just being with him the way you would with a good friend. That's something small, doable, and real.

You find out you already belong

"You who are his holy ones, fear the Lord, for those who fear him lack nothing" (Psalm 34:9, CSB).

Notice the phrase "his holy ones." Not people standing nearby. Possession language. You belong to him.

That's adoption, not proximity. The apostle Paul, one of the earliest leaders of the Christian church, puts it plainly: "And because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, 'Abba, Father!' So you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then God has made you an heir" (Galatians 4:6-7, CSB).

A military dependent, such as a spouse or child, doesn't get base access, healthcare, or housing because of their own resume. They get it because of whose name is on their ID. It was never about what they personally brought to the table. Another name the Bible uses for God is "the Lord of Armies" (Psalm 46:7), so of course his dependents lack nothing. Not because they stockpiled it themselves, but because of whose family they're in.

The real way in

Here's the part worth being clear about. That adoption isn't automatic for everyone. It's a gift held out, and it has to be received.

Jesus's own words put it this way: "But to all who did receive him, he gave them the right to be children of God, to those who believe in his name" (John 1:12, CSB). Becoming one of his holy ones, someone who genuinely belongs to him and lacks nothing, starts with a choice. It means turning from running your own life and trusting Jesus, what he did on the cross and in the resurrection, to bring you into God's family.

That's the real way to get close enough to taste. Not a habit or a technique. An actual adoption, offered to you, waiting on your "yes."

Don't just read about God's goodness again this week. Go taste it for yourself.