Awakening To Emmanuel
One of my favorite places to be alone with my thoughts is a specific duck pond in Edmond after about ten o’ clock at night. I don’t want to give out the name of the park because that’s my spot. There is usually nobody else around. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional sleeping duck as it slowly drifts around on the surface of the water. One or two nearby lamp posts will have their light reflecting off of the surface of the water, illuminating ripples blown by the gentle night breeze. There used to be a bench there. Once or twice a week, my late night walks would take me to this duck pond. I would take my earphones out of my ears and turn off my music and sit quietly as I looked out over the water’s surface. Sometimes I would close my eyes and feel the breeze on my face.
There are two great horned owls in that general area. One rules over the meadow directly beside the pond. It’s a perfect territory for it as the rabbit population there is explosive. The other great horn rules over another open area nearby that is separated from the meadow by a line of trees and a road. If you are walking along one of the trails in the area you might accidentally and quite suddenly stumble upon the first owl as it perches atop one of the trail signs as it silently surveys its expansive territory. I’ll never forget the night where it was perched on a sign directly in front of a lamp post, its huge silhouette looming over me as I turned a corner. I thanked God and the owl for giving me the opportunity to observe the owl so clearly.
To me, the thing that the water, the light from the lamp posts, the ducks, and the breeze all have in common is that they are God for me. Or rather, they have this unique power to bring out my awareness of God’s presence. I would treat that bench like a cathedral. The moments of stillness, the ripples of the water, the stirring of the birds, and absolutely the cool breeze on my face are all little divine moments where I feel like my prayers were being responded to in real time, like a little conversation with God. And I’m not the kind of person who hears the voice of God or sees signs or anything like that. I never have been. I’ve devoted my life to studying a lot about God and a bunch of church stuff but I’ve never actually heard some kind of divine voice. I know a few people who have and I have no reason to doubt them. It’s just not the way that I encounter God. But that little bench by the pond always felt pretty close to hearing the voice of God. I was kind of devastated when I approached that area one night and found that the bench, my bench, had been taken away. But I still use that place, choosing to stand while I meditate. That pond is still my little cathedral, the ducks and the water my little choir. The breeze God’s reassurance to me that God is there.
I am convinced that finding places like that has been a very crucial part of my absurd hope for the world. We live at a weird intersection: one road crossing in front of us represents a lot of anxiety and trauma that we witness all around us. We see the failure of systems or the oppressive tendencies of power-hungry people. Or just the average stress that we encounter in our individual day to day lives - our griefs, our anxiety, our insecurities. But on the other hand, the road that intersects with all of that pain is the fact that we live in a world that is absolutely saturated with beauty and life. I tend to frown on theology that describes God destroying the world at the end of days because ain’t nobody touching the Rocky Mountains, they’re perfect. This world is so so good! It’s too hot to go outside and I’m still saying that our world is good. That’s why we need to be good stewards of the environment.
Finding moments of stillness in the world around me, moments outside of our systems and power dynamics, helps to remind me that God is present and that creation bears God’s image. One of the most beneficial spiritual disciplines for me in recent years has been finding quiet moments where I simply contemplate God’s presence as a given. There is nothing that I can do that will separate me from God, only things that either cloud or awaken my awareness of God’s proximity to me. We are always in the presence of God. God never leaves us. We just don’t always see it because life is stressful. But one of the most significant names for God in Scripture, at least from my perspective, is Emmanuel: God with us. I’m also a big fan of El-Roi, The God who Sees Us, a name given to YHWH by a marginalized foreigner when she encounters God in the wilderness. This reassurance, God being with us, even in the physical world around us, directly interrupts my cynicism and compels me to imagine a more just world.
I’m going to read a very short passage from our Gospel Lectionary reading for today, Matthew 10:40-42. It brings this oneness with God into focus:
40 “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41 Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous, 42 and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
Right off the bat, this is kind of a weird passage because it can be used to make the reader feel super self-righteous. Like whatever they say and whatever they do can be equated with the voice and actions of Jesus himself. It also can be misused to justify a sort of prosperity gospel where you somehow receive a lot of wealth or things just because you call yourself a Christian or pray the right way. But this would be a surface-level reading of the text and it also completely ignores its context.
It comes right after Jesus gets done telling his disciples that he has not come to bring peace to the Earth, but a sword and that families are going to be fighting against each other because of him. But Jesus is saying these things because conflict is inevitable when something needs to be challenged and fixed. Conflict is not an inherently negative thing. Sometimes it’s even a necessary thing for a healthy relationship. Sometimes a healthy conflict just looks like having a hard conversation. And real, actual peace involves striving toward justice. Jesus’ way of living brings about a restorative conflict because love and compassion stand in stark contrast to power dynamics that reinforce unjust systems.
But then we have these last two verses that I just read, where Jesus is telling his disciples that if someone welcomes them they are welcoming him as well. They are representatives of this strange new way of Jesus that is bringing so much conflict to the world around them. But more than merely being representatives of Jesus, they are taking Christ with them through their actions. Whoever welcomes them welcomes him and the One who sent him. This passage is not talking about someone getting a reward because they are following Jesus, but it’s talking about Christ’s presence being always with his disciples wherever they go. This is a passage about camaraderie between Jesus and his disciples. With all the “King” and “kingdom” language used throughout Scripture and church tradition, the idea of God being with God’s disciples rather than merely an overlord can get swept aside. The use of the word “reward” almost comes across as tongue-and-cheek because if you follow Jesus, then it stands to reason that your “reward” will be a lot like his, that being an inevitable conflict with injustice.
So this short passage is a way of both comforting and challenging the disciples at the same time. The disciples are being reassured that despite the fact that being a person of co-suffering love is going to inevitably place one’s life a bit at odds with a world that operates according to the will of the most powerful people, in the end the reality is that Jesus, God the Son, will never abandon them. The Source of all life, the Creator and Sustainer of all of creation is within creation. God is present. Jesus will never leave your side because the reality is that God is always there anyway. And one’s awareness of God’s proximity is improved the more that they move in accordance with Christ’s way of compassion and equity. This passage is a moment in Scripture where Jesus is reassuring his disciples right after talking about how difficult it can be to live as an alternative community to the world around them.
To me, this passage reads a lot like it’s talking to tired people. And I can relate to the disciples heavily in that regard right now. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. The world can be exhausting. It’s one thing to always talk about how being a Christian is going to mean challenging the status quo and fighting for the marginalized. But the reality is that we also need to be reminded that we are never alone. And that God adores you, loves you, precisely as you are right where you are. We can get burnt out and tired from constantly having to be reminded that we are standing up against oppressive systems. Jesus is reminding his disciples that he is right there with them - that they as people are inherently good because God has never left them, even when things might seem desperate or even impossible. You represent the Christ who is already in you. You are already good. You are already within the presence of God. Instead of bonkers doctrines like “Original Sin” or “Total Depravity,” (that are not found in Scripture, by the way), I think it’s time we embraced the concept of Original Goodness. It’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. You are okay, just the way you are. God is right there with you. God is in the wind. God is in your breath. God is before you, God is after you, God is beside you. Whoever welcomes you welcomes Christ.
I’m reminded of the moment where Jesus is being crucified alongside two other people, and one of them mocks Christ while the other advocates for him. Jesus turns to the advocate and says that today he and Jesus will be together in paradise. It’s another moment of camaraderie between God and his creation. The hardships that we face are also faced by our creator. Jesus is not merely cheering on the sidelines of the Pride parade, but is actually marching right along with us. Jesus is not merely an ally but is the queer kid being bullied. Jesus is not merely an observer, but is a participant. That’s the beauty of the Incarnation of God. That’s the significance of the Jesus Event. Christ is one with creation. God is one with creation. Jesus is not even merely with humanity but became human. God truly became us when we received Jesus into the world.
When we pray for God’s presence to be with us, we are not actually changing anything with God. Our prayers are not so much moving God’s proximity to us but rather changing our own perception of God’s relation to us. God is already there. God is precisely where God intends to be. But in living into co-suffering love and forgiveness we become more aware of our Source, our Creator. That is actual conversion to Christ. Not in believing the right things, but orienting your inner person into an alignment with the grace and peace of Jesus, sharpening our awareness of God in the world around us and within ourselves.
The idea that God is some separate far removed thing that we hope to one day meet is just so lifeless. But it’s made its way into so much of Christian thought over the centuries. A song that I’ve heard sung in church over and over again is “This World is Not my Home.” It’s a catchy folk hymn that a lot of people who grew up in church are probably pretty used to hearing. The thing is, it was written in 1919, literally the year right after WWI ended. It’s no coincidence that a hymn about leaving Earth to go hang out with God in a completely different location would become wildly popular after we just experienced “the war to end all wars.” Our songs, especially our folk songs, reflect the world as the writer sees and experiences it. The religious world saw the world as a maelstrom of violence, rationing, and enlistment. It makes total sense that we would get a folk song about how great it’ll be to leave this world and go someplace else.
But this world actually is our home. And God called it “very good” after God made it. Jesus’ entire ministry was all about healing and feeding physical bodies, literally raising dead people back to physical life. When Jesus talks about the Kingdom of Heaven throughout his teachings, he always refers to it in the present tense: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed,” “the Kingdom of Heaven is like leaven baked into bread…” The beautiful picture of the Second Coming of Christ that the apostle John gives us in Revelation is not of a bunch of Christians just flying off to be with Jesus somewhere, but is of Jesus bringing a new Jerusalem down to Earth from Heaven. And when Jesus tells us to pray, he teaches us to say “may your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.” Our focus is on the here and now, not about going to a “pie in the sky by and by.” God’s focus is always on healing the world of its trauma by becoming one with the world amidst its trauma. God is always with us.
Our hope is not that one day Jesus will return to us and we will get our reward after a long life of trial and hardships but that God is truly here with us right now. And that by living as compassionate people we help bring awareness of God’s intimacy with the rest of the world around us. Our reward is not a trip to some separate realm up in the clouds somewhere but rather a love that is experienced right here and right now because God is already with us.
So we hold two things at the same time: struggle and hope; action and contemplation. Yes we are people of struggle, struggling for equity amongst all people, fighting for the marginalized, standing up for the oppressed. But we are also a people who can sit and enjoy the moment because the moment, the sacred now, is the experience of God. We are always in his presence. The cosmos is our cathedral.
So find those quiet places, those still moments. Find those places that are sacred and holy not because they are separate from the world but because they are not like the systems that can dehumanize us. Get to know the world around you. Make friends with some owls. I know that there are a mated pair of coyotes in Israel and I’s apartment complex that like to hunt around the creek beside my building. I know that there is a large female turtle in that same creek that likes to lay her eggs next to my sidewalk, and then bask on it afterward. There was this wonderful moment where I witnessed a swallow mother teach its fledgling how to fly right outside of my front door. There’s a very cute bunny who lives in the bushes under our window. The fattest toad in the entire world lives next to my sister in law’s old apartment. I named her Roxanne.
We find hope in one another. Our friends, our families or chosen families, our communities all reflect the beautiful and multifaceted Image of God. So much of my faith in God and creation has been impacted or just completely altered by various conversations throughout the years. Or I see the ways in which people will come together in order to live as people of compassion. I’m reminded of our friends over at UCO like Lindsay Churchill who have dedicated so much of their lives to making life better for LGBTQ students. Or people like Judge Stoner who are making a positive impact in the lives of people struggling with addiction. There is so much beautiful hope in our world, both outside of human experience and within.
All of these precious lives are reminders of God’s grace and beauty in the world around us. Being mindful of them can anchor us into the here and now, rather than have us constantly burdened by injustice or common anxieties. As Christ followers we are absolutely people of justice. But we are also people of peace, hope, and compassion. And all of these things are interwoven together. That’s why we have to have a balance in our lives between helping to heal our communities while also finding our peace. And we find that reassurance, that peace, through finding Christ within everything around us, and within every person around us as well.
Pray with me,
Holy God,
Thank you for bringing us peace when we are burdened by everything
May we be reminded that you suffer with us,
That you celebrate with us,
That you walk with us,
That you move within us.
Being closer to you helps us realize who we really are.
Being closer to you helps us appreciate Christ in the world around us.
Forgive us when we forget to notice beauty.
May we walk on the bridge between peace and justice.
We love you.
Amen.
- Richard Bowles