| "Where Do You Put the Spaces?" |
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“Where Do You Put the Spaces?” Epiphany 2B January 15, 2012 The Rev. Carole Wageman Trinity Episcopal Church 1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20); Psalm 139: 1-5, 12-17; 1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1: 43-51
It was Christmas Eve. A man was waiting for a bus to take him from Athens, Georgia, to Greenville, South Carolina. As he purchased his ticket, the agent said, “That bus is running a little late. If you’ll just watch the electronic letterboard over there in the corner, you will know when the bus arrives and when it’s time to board.”
The man wandered around the terminal for a while. Eventually he saw a small machine. The sign on the machine read, “For twenty-five cents, this machine will tell you your name, age, city of residence, and something about you.”
“That’s impossible,” the man muttered out loud, but nevertheless he was curious, so he pulled out a quarter and plunked it into the machine. The machine whirred and whistled a bit, and then printed out a message that read, “Your name is Fred Jones. You are thirty-five years old. You live in Athens, Georgia, and you are waiting for a bus to Greenville, South Carolina.”
“Incredible,” said the man. “How does that machine know all of that? It’s amazing, but I’ll bet it can’t do it again.” So he plunked in another quarter. Again, the machine whirred and whistled for a bit, and then out came the message, “Your name is Fred Jones. You are thirty-five years old. You live in Athens, Georgia, and you are still waiting for a bus to Greenville, South Carolina.”
“This cannot be happening!” the man exclaimed. He put on some sunglasses, mussed his hair a bit, turned the collar up on his jacket, and tried another quarter. The response came back: “Your name is still Fred Jones. You are still thirty-five years old. You still live in Athens, Georgia, and for the third time, you are still waiting for a bus to Greenville, South Carolina.”
The man was amazed. He glanced across the street and saw a novelty shop. He walked out of the bus terminal, crossed the street, and went into the store. There he bought a pair of glasses with a large nose attached, a shaggy gray wig, a baggy shirt, and a cane. He then hobbled back across the street, acting like a much older man, and he walked up to the machine. He put a fourth quarter into the slot. The machine whirred and groaned and whistled, and then put out a message that read: “Your name is Fred Jones. You are thirty-five years old. You live in Athens, Georgia; and while you were horsing around, you missed your bus to Greenville, South Carolina!” [1]
Talk about missing the Big Picture!! But isn’t this a great parable for so much of how we live? We get caught up in the minutiae of the very normal things grabbing our attention that are right in front of us and lose sight of the big picture. That is especially true when going through a significant time of life transition: serious illness, the loss of an important love relationship, death, moving away. It is very natural to focus on other things that distract from the pain of the ending thing because the “new thing” simply isn’t here, yet. How can you keep the Big Picture in the forefront when all the little painful and fear-filled pictures run like a perpetual slide show in your mind?
Well, I have been saving a little experiment for today. If you would please turn to the back page of your bulletin and look at the text box that has twelve letters in it but no space in-between the letters.
Here is the question: What do you see? Clue: If you look at it one way, there is a three word sentence. If you look at it another way, there is a four word sentence. Do you see “God is nowhere” or do you see “God is now here”? Where does your mind put the spaces? This is one of those “Is your glass half full or half empty?” quizzes.
The simple question “Where do you put the spaces?” actually is a pretty profound question and is one that I put to each of us here. It is a metaphor that defines where we will locate ourselves between hope and despair. It is intriguing that it only takes the shift of making one additional space in the middle of a jumble of letters where there is no space to change the “God is Nowhere half-empty glass” of grief, disappointment and loss and transform it into the “God is Now Here half-full glass” of hope, love, courage, forgiveness. The creative tension that is generated between those two very different messages is where I think God does His best work. It is a bit like a lightbulb that just sits there unused until it is plugged into a power source. Those moments of shift and illumination seem to be frequently at the heart of “God’s Big Picture” and some might say, it is that enlightenment --- that shifting of where the space belongs --- where God’s Call is heard.
The story of Samuel is a great example of that. Samuel is a young man who was dedicated to God’s service by his mother, Hannah. Samuel serves the Lord as a servant to Eli, the temple priest. These were hard times – says the author of this book -- “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” (1 Samuel 3:1b) I imagine Eli – who was very disappointed in his own out-of-control sons – I imagine him plodding through each day growing older and more frail, doing the routines that were his duty while under his tutelage, Samuel grew “both in stature and in favor with the Lord and the people.” (1 Samuel 2:26).
One night, while both were sleeping, Samuel heard a voice calling his name: “Samuel. Samuel.” The boy jumps up and – thinking that it was his master Eli calling him – wakes Eli up saying: “Here I am for you called me.” Eli responds: “What...go back to bed. I didn’t call you.” So Samuel obeys. The Lord calls a second time: “Samuel. Samuel.” And a second time Samuel runs into his master but his master sends him back saying “I did not call you.” When this happened a third time, Eli (who was more experienced in these kinds of things) got the picture and instructed Samuel what to say if this should happen yet again. So when God called Samuel a fourth time, Samuel’s understanding shifted to a new place when he answered: “Speak Lord. For your servant is listening.” As with most of the stories in scripture, Samuel had no idea how this would turn out. He had no way of knowing that he would become one of the most important prophets of his day and time in the history of the Hebrew people. Being shaped by God’s Story is what Samuel had to learn moment by moment yet trusting that God would be there through it all.
Life transitions are frequently the place where our narratives shift and we have the ability to re-orient our own stories either toward or away from God’s Big Picture. My own transition away from Trinity has provided a lot of personal “soul work” over the past few months and it is far from finished. It was in a conversation with my spiritual director this week where one of those moments in my understanding shifted one space to the side opening up something new. She asked me where did I experience God in all this. And because I had to think about it, she pointed out that perhaps God’s love has been showing up again and again--- through you...through all of you. I actually began making a specific, name-by-name list of all the thoughtful and kind gestures I have been receiving so I could somehow include it in this sermon, but my husband - my best and only sermon editor –pointed out it was a bit over the top. And it was – because the list was so long and included:
So, suddenly, the space shifted differently and I realized that God really is “now here” – has always been here -- has been loving me over and over through each of the blessings you have offered me. It is very humbling. You have been like the colored glass in the windows here. I have used this metaphor several times in the past few months because these windows speak. They are only colored glass until the Light shines through them. They were made to be used by the light. We are only bits of colored glass in God’s Kingdom until we allow the Beauty of that Love to shine through us and reflect the beauty, love and magnificence of a God whose devotion to us is bigger than we can even imagine. It isn’t just about doing good deeds because they are good things to do. It is about living Love Out Loud because that is how God makes His way in the world. In experiencing your love for me and watching how you love and support each other, I realized there is much more at work here than a budget cut. Love doesn’t go away just because a job does. This moment in time – at least for me --- has shifted something about how I understand myself as I live into God’s Call. Like Samuel, this is a moment for all of us to stop and say – “Oh...something’s really different. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” Psalm 139 is my most favorite psalm so it is interesting that it was also the assigned psalm for today. I first came across this psalm when I was struggling to make my way back to God nearly fourteen years ago. It has always captured my heart because of the way it describes God’s constancy and the futility of trying to escape God’s grasp: “Lord, you have searched me out and known me – you know everything about me. You know when I sit down and when I stand up – you know my every thought. Where can I hide from you? If I climb to heaven, you are there. If I make the grave my bed, you are there also. If I dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand will lead me and hold me fast. Where then can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? You press upon me behind and before and lay your hand upon me -– such knowledge is too wonderful for me....it is so high, I cannot even comprehend it...” God does not forget us even in the darkest times and always figures out a way to be made known. So I know what I am going to do in this fallow season of winter. I am going to let God’s Story unfold in its own time. I am going to listen for the stirrings of spring, but I’m not in too much of a rush to get there. I think there is much abundance to be explored while marking this time and space in prayer and pondering and writing and thinking and allowing winter to teach me patience and faith in the future. I want to close with a piece I wrote this summer and posted on my blog. It’s called: “The God of Peripheral Vision” and I offer it not only about my own journey, but perhaps about yours.
The God of Peripheral Vision July 25, 2011
Have you ever heard the phrase: “God doesn’t close one door, but He opens another”? I have to be honest, here – I try to avoid using those words in any sentence that comes out of my mouth. It seems to suggest that God is a great puppeteer who goes around steering my robotic form here and there – shoving me through a threshold or pushing me back out over the doorjamb --- opening and closing doors that always seem to have a slamming sound at the end --- all the while expecting me to sit passively by and merely wonder: “Is the answer through Door Number One or Door Number Three????” “Doesn’t matter”, says the Cosmic Angelic Co-host: “God Knows Best”. Well, I do think there is something to be said for God knowing what is best for us overall and I would also add a personal disclaimer that sometimes God has been present in amazingly personal ways. But closing and opening doors just doesn’t speak convincingly to me about my interactions with my Creator and the freedom I have been given to make choices in the life I live. Perhaps it is not so much that God closes one door and opens a new one, but that I am looking in the wrong place. I find it amusing to think of myself staring at a blank wall just waiting for “The Door” to mysteriously appear that God will magically open; when, actually, I am really waiting for a door to open that will look like – feel like – taste like – smell like – and sound like the door I wanted in the first place. What if the door that God opens is the one on my peripheral vision – that area of sight that is not front and center? Perhaps the God-Shaped Door is the one that I might see if I were to stop staring straight ahead. Maybe it is not so much that God closes one door and opens another but rather that God has a door open and is waiting for me to notice.
Closing prayer: Oh God of Peripheral Vision, You are never quiet--- never still, are You? Your mystery weaves its way through the jumble of all that clangs and collides and through the wearying demands that clamor for our attention. We offer You grateful thanks and praise that You will not let us hide from You for very long for when we cry out to You, You answer...just not always in the ways we expect. Give us grace that we might tune in to Your Spirit and Strength that is present here this morning and made manifest through the love, compassion and courage of Your servants. You call us by name always. “Speak, Lord. For your servant is listening”
[1] The Miracle of Christmas: An Advent Study for Adults by James W. Moore (Abingdon Press, Nashville, 2006, pp 17-18) |