July 3, 2005

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The Rev. Dan Rondeau

St. Margaret's Episcopal Church & School

Zechariah 9:9-12 | Psalm 145 | Romans 7:21-8:6 | Matthew 11:25-30

 

The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness. Psalm 145:8

Her children found the prayer in an old prayer book. Penny had told them stories of this prayer—how, as a young woman, a nurse, she would recite the prayer as she walked to work.

Each morning when I wake I say,

"I place my hand in God's today";

I know He'll walk close by my side

My every wandering step to guide.

He leads me with the tenderest care

When paths are dark and I despair—

No need for me to understand

If I but hold fast to His hand.

My hand in His! No surer way

To walk in safety through each day

By His great bounty I am fed;

Warmed by His love, and comforted.

When at day's end I seek my rest

And realize how much I am blessed,

My thanks pour out to Him; and then

I place my hand in God's again.1

"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness. (Psalm 145:8)

Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. (Zechariah 9:9)

Like the woman going to work we find comfort in these images of God. We find it easy, for the most part, to turn to God whose hand is extended to us, who is humble, gracious, full of compassion, slow to anger, strong enough to carry our burdens. When we are weak, troubled, hopeless, here is our God.

But just last week a different picture was painted:

"Enter into the rock, and hide in the dust from the terror of the Lord, and from the glory of his majesty….The haughty eyes of people shall be brought low, and the pride of everyone shall be humbled…." (Isaiah 2:10-11)

Jesus said, "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law…. (Matthew 10:34)

The scriptures are filled with conflicting images of God. What makes them important to us: they are born of experience of God. The words of scripture do not come from a committee of theologians sitting around and speculating about God and God's qualities. The words used by our ancestors in the faith, the words inspired by the Holy Spirit, reveal the breadth of human experience with the Living God. It is an attempt to put into words what was learned, what was experienced.

My experiences of God, the experiences you have shared with me over the years, or that we have lived through together, suggest that God is not some kind of domesticated pet, rather, God is wild; God is not at our beck and call or shaped to our desires. God is untamed, sovereign, powerful and gentle, capable and compassionate, a mighty king and a tender healer.

Speaking from my experiences, in our moment of need I have come to believe that God will be present, God will care, and ultimately, God's presence will make a difference. Be alert, be aware, for our God is untamed and very creative.

God might come as a light to dispel the darkness or as a warrior to stand with you and work with you to vanquish the army of worries and challenges that assault you. God may come in tenderness like a mother holding her baby to the breast or as come solid as a rock upon which you may stand firmly. God may come with unmistakable power and glory as with Moses on the mountaintop or as the still small voice experienced by Elijah, easily missed if you are inattentive.

God may come in the form of a guest as he did with Sarah and Abraham or in the form of one who hungers or thirsts or is sick or imprisoned—one of the least as the world counts importance. God may send an angel as he did with Mary to announce the birth of Jesus or may come in the night like a dream. God may be the Good Shepherd, or the banquet giver of Psalm 23, or the creator who speaks but a word and it is done. God may cry with you as Jesus did at the tomb of Lazarus, or look at you with eyes filled with love as he did with Peter after the denials—Jesus' look of love was enough to make Peter weep with sadness and joy.

As I suggested in early June, God may be present to one in need as: you (with all your strengths and weaknesses, ready or not). Which is to say, as God may send you to another, so God may come to you in the form of one who loves you, a mother or father, a brother or sister, aunt or uncle, a cousin, a neighbor or a friend who stands by you even if there are no answers, even in that dark moment just before the dawn.

But, be attentive because God may also come, may also speak in the unexpected letter or note or phone call at just the right moment; God might visit in a timely sermon, a meditation in Forward Day by Day, or other devotional aid or even in words from the Big Book. And remember, God is sovereign and so God's presence may be of comfort or of motivation to action, or of conviction, or of overwhelming forgiveness and love. I believe, from experience, God will come and God will choose how to come to you and it will make a difference.

In two successive Sundays God has come in the "Word of the Lord" as one terrible and strong and mixing things up and as one humble and gentle and ready to share the load. Every Sunday, God comes among us in the word shared from this lectern and pulpit. Every Sunday in worship God comes to you in the mystery of bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ. In that great mystery comes refreshment, strength, light, joy, peace, fortitude, gentleness, perseverance, truth in the measure that we most need by God's grace. Every Sunday I feel, I experience, God's presence as I gather with you. God moves mysteriously and wonderfully within the family, within you, as we gather for worship each Sunday.

Let me begin to finish with the words of St. Augustine from his work Confessions. Here he offers not speculation, but experience, he reports his experience. He had wandered far, (many thought he was beyond God's reach, God's touch), he was acutely deaf to the voice of God. Then, like Saul of Tarsus who became Paul the Apostle, Augustine encountered the Living God (listen for how God came to him) and was set on a course that changed the church and the world.

Late have I loved you, O beauty so ancient and so new. Late have I loved you! You were within me while I have gone outside to seek you. Unlovely myself, I rushed towards all those lovely things you had made. And always you were with me, and I was not with you.

All these beauties kept me far from you—although they would not have existed at all unless they had their being in you.

You called, you cried, you shattered my deafness.

You sparkled, you blazed, you drove away my blindness.

You shed your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for you. I tasted and now I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and now I burn with longing for your peace.2

God will come to you; God will choose how to come to you; it will make a difference.

Let me now finish with a prayer from our Celtic tradition.

Give to me O God a clear and watchful eye

Give to me O God a firm but gentle touch

Give to me O God a good receptive ear

Give to me O God a clear discerning taste

Give to me O God a subtle sense of smell

Give to me O God an openness to others

Give to me O God an awareness now of you. Amen.3

1 Florence Scripps Kellogg. A prayer card shared at a Memorial Service at St. Margaret's.

2 Quoted in Richard J. Foster, Prayers from the Heart, p. 50

3 David Adam, The Edge of Glory, p. 22  


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