Pentecost 3 C: God Sightings

Dear Partner in Preaching,

Hey – I know it hardly helps to get these reflections so late in the week. And I apologize. My work at LTSP, and particularly our efforts to unify the Philadelphia and Gettysburg seminaries, has been pretty much all consuming of late and it’s getting harder to find time to write. Again, my apologies. I’ll try to do better. In the meantime, I’ll keep this week’s reflection relatively short.

So….what strikes me most about this story is not the miracle itself. This is Jesus we’re talking about after all. But rather the reaction of the crowds. Luke tells us that after Jesus gave life back to the widow’s son, they were seized by fear. Not a holy awe, but abject terror.

Now, on the one hand, we might imagine that witnessing someone being raised from death would indeed be terrifying. But I wonder if there’s something more here. Something not just about miracles but about God’s action in our lives, that makes us anxious.

In his novel, Peace Like a River, author Leif Enger has something to tell us about miracles and the fear they can elicit. Speaking through his narrator, eleven-year old Reuben, a boy who was brought back from the edge of death as an infant, Enger says,

Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it’s been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week – a miracle, people say, as if they’ve been educated from greeting cards. I’m sorry, but nope. Such things are worth our notice every day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word.

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It’s true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave – now there’s a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear miracles because they fear being changed….

 

I wonder if that’s part of this story. The people are afraid because once you see someone raised from death – or, for that matter, healed of an illness or in recovery after addiction or committed to a relationship after deserting – many of the rules we count on for order and stability seem up for grabs. And so perhaps we fear God’s activity in our lives because we fear being changed. Even if we’re not totally satisfied with our lives, at least we feel like we know them and so find a measure of stability, order, even safe predictability. But if God gets involved, then who knows what may happen!

Enger goes on, to talk not only about miracles, but those who see them.

My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear miracles because they fear being changed – though ignoring them will change you also. Swede said another thing, too, and it rang in me like a bell: No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here’s what I saw. Here’s how it went. Make of it what you will (p.3).

Two things here: First – yes, miracles can change us. But ignoring God’s miraculous activity in our lives can change us also. I’m not sure we often think of that. So perhaps one question to ask this week is what are we missing that is keeping us from God’s abundant life?

Second, our role is not only to sense God’s activity, but to tell others. Not trying to convince others or persuade them of something, but simply to say, “Here’s what I saw. Here’s how it went. Make of it what you will.”

I’m not sure how many of our folks are ready to do that. We’ve had so little practice identifying God’s presence, let alone telling others. Perhaps part of what we might invite people to this summer is to keep an eye out for the miraculous, for those places where the compassionate Lord Luke describes gets involved in our lives. Over time, as we get better at seeing God at work, it might also get easier to talk about it. Perhaps we could even start our services with “God sightings,” a moment or two at the beginning of the service where people share where they have seen God at work in their lives and/or the world.

You’ll need to start with folks who are a little more comfortable doing this, of course, but over time others may be willing to share their experiences. And, over the course of a year or two, maybe we’ll even get used to hearing each other talk about where God is at work and venture to share our testimony beyond the congregation.

The crowds are at first terrified of what they see in Jesus. And then they give glory to God. May it also be so with us.

Thanks, Dear Partner. I am so grateful for your steadfast witness, your willingness to tell folks what you see and invite them to make of it what they will. Blessings on your proclamation.

Yours in Christ,
David