Seeing Deeply

​Our Gospel reading is another scary one. “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.” It will be bad enough that “people will faint from fear and foreboding.” That’s to go with the wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes and famines from last Sunday. Jesus is putting it to us!
 
It's easy to get stuck there, with the bad news in our reading, particularly at a time when many of us are concerned about our future.
 
But then comes a remarkable turn. There is good news here, too, at least for those with eyes to see it. And the good news is what Jesus emphasizes.
 
When these bad things happen, Jesus tells us, we should “stand up and raise our heads, because our redemption is drawing near.” After a parable, Jesus repeats, “when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.”
 
I used to think that Jesus was talking about successive events. First, a lot of bad news, and then, after the bad news, comes the good news of redemption.
 
But I have come to believe that Jesus is making a more subtle point. Even while the bad news is happening, God is near. God may not be visible to us. But always God is in the mix. Always God is bringing life out of death. Always God offers good news, even when terrible things are happening.
 
Jesus is inviting us into a distinctively Christian way of seeing the world. As Christians, we see the world around us at two levels at the same time. There is whatever is happening on the surface. And then, just underneath the surface, there is God at work.
 
This Christian way of seeing beneath the surface has been a theme over the last several weeks of our readings.
 
Three weeks ago, we had the story of the widow’s mite. Jesus saw rich people donating big money to the Temple, but Jesus praised a widow who offered just two cents. Jesus saw true riches in a small gift generously offered.
 
Two weeks ago, the disciples were impressed by how massive the Temple buildings were. But Jesus told them those buildings would soon come tumbling down. Jesus saw fragility in what appeared most solid. The only really sure foundation is Jesus himself.
 
Last week we heard the story of the confrontation between Jesus and Pilate, the Roman governor. It seems like Pilate would have all the power, but the real king in that story was Jesus, the accused criminal who was about to die. That’s not power as the world sees it. That is power made perfect in weakness.
 
And this week, we get destruction, but also, for those with eyes to see, redemption.
 
We get the point week after week because seeing things at these two levels, seeing things from God’s perspective, is not easy. We look around at the world, and it looks more like God is absent than that God is redeeming us.
 
But last week, Kathy Glista gave us a beautiful contemporary example of finding reasons for gratitude even in a really tough time for her and her family.
 
Here’s another example. Some of you may know the author Madeleine L’Engle. Her most famous book is A Wrinkle in Time. But she was a committed Christian who also wrote nonfiction.
 
In Walking on Water, Madeleine describes a terrible time in the life of her family.[1] She was out of town for a series of lectures when she learned that her nine-year-old granddaughter had been hit by a truck. The girl was in the hospital, and it was not clear if she would live or, if she did live, if she would truly recover.
 
Madeleine couldn’t be with her family that night. So, she did what she did every night. She said Evening Prayer from the Prayerbook. And as she was praying, two things happened. A picture of her granddaughter fell out of her Prayerbook. And so did a card she had received years earlier. It had a quotation from Saint John of the Cross. “One act of thanksgiving when things go wrong is worth a thousand when things go well.”
 
Madeleine knew what she had to do. On that terrible night, she had to give thanks to God. She had to find some sign of God’s redemption drawing near when she felt more inclined to faint from fear and foreboding. She commented that there was no way she could have given thanks if God hadn’t helped her.
 
Madeleine wasn’t thankful for the accident, of course. But she was thankful for her children and grandchildren, and particularly for the first nine years of her granddaughter’s life. And she prayed words from 14th-century mystic Julian of Norwich, who said, “All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”
 
Over the next few days, as Madeleine prayed through the worst of it, as she tried to hold on to the gratitude she felt for her beloved grandchild, Madeleine herself grew stronger. Thankfully, so did her granddaughter. After weeks in the hospital, the little girl fully recovered. I doubt Madeleine could have shared this story otherwise.
 
But those first terrified prayers, offering up thanksgiving in the immediate aftermath of the accident, is a powerful example of what Jesus invites us to do in our reading. Even when bad things happen, we look for God, trusting that God is in there somewhere even if, in that moment, we don’t have eyes to see.
 
We all have glimpses of God, even if we don’t always call them that, moments when everything is right. Those moments sustain us. And those moments inspire us to come together in worship and praise.
 
But then our spiritual vision clouds over, and we forget, and we get overwhelmed, and we miss the good news of God’s presence.
 
That’s a reason to keep coming together, not only because we can see God sometimes, but also because sometimes we can’t, because sometimes we need help from our brothers and sisters. And in each other, we may catch another glimpse, have another God sighting.
 
On this Thanksgiving weekend, that is a big reason for gratitude, whatever else is happening in our lives. In a paraphrase of Paul’s words, “How can we thank God enough for each other in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of each other?” I thank God for you, my brothers and sisters, who do so much to sustain my Christian vision when, for whatever reason, it starts to fade.
 
That’s also the theme of our stewardship campaign: Walk in Love. We walk in love together, helping each other see God, helping each other love and serve God.
 
And so, on this first Sunday of Advent, as we begin a new Christian year, I give thanks to God for being with us always, for bringing life and redemption out of even the hardest circumstances. And I give thanks to God for the gift of each other. In Christ’s name. Amen.


[1] Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water, 154-157.