Meeting God

Ephesians 1:15-23

Thanksgiving and Prayer

15 For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, 16 I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. 17 I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. 18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, 21 far above all rule and authority, power and dominion,and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. 22 And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

I had a thought this week as I was delivering mowers... I was trying to recall the sermons that shaped who I am, the ones that really helped form my faith.  The sermons that helped me to realize that without a doubt that God existed and I needed to have a relationship with him.  I was trying to recall the words that helped me to be convinced of this.  I wanted to remember the sermon(s) that were at the core of who I was.  But I couldn’t.  It wasn’t that these sermons weren’t important or inspirational because they very much were.  There were sermons and inspired talks and conversations that absolutely helped shape who I have become so why can’t I remember the words spoken?  My memory can recall the times when I was inspired, the times the sermons really helped me and gave me direction.  I can see those still prints and short videos in my mind but it's like they are on mute.  I can see those memories but I cannot hear what is being said.  It’s incredibly frustrating because such inspirations should be shared.  If those words stirred me in such a way to motivate and give me strength then I undoubtedly want to share them with each of you.  Why can’t I remember?  

I guess you will have to trust me that those sermons and conversations were important, educational and inspirational because I cannot remember the exact words but I do recall how those words made me feel.  The feelings and emotions tied to sermons and conversations leave more of a lasting impression than the words used to get you to that feeling.  For example, I cannot recall very many specific plays from my heralded and prestigious football career but I do remember several feelings from those seasons.  I remember what it was like to beat I-35 in OT.  I remember celebrating that moment with my team.  I remember losing to I-35 on Homecoming in the season prior to that one.  I remember beating Coe in triple OT.  I remember beating Wartburg in Waverly.  I remember losing the games that ended my career and seasons.  I remember losing to Pekin, St. John’s and Wisconsin-Whitewater but I remember very few plays from any of those games.  I remember crying my eyes out after the three loses that I just shared with you but the play or plays that caused us to lose those games I cannot recall.  Maybe this is just me but most of us have memories tied to very specific emotions and that is how and why we remember certain things.  How our faith makes us feel is important because it may be the deciding factor in whether or not we stick with it.  

I don’t mean that our faith has to make us feel all warm and fuzzy all the time because it won’t.  I don’t mean that our faith has to provide us all the answers, because it won’t.  Even those of you who identify as more intellectual than emotional I would venture to say that a good portion of your memories are also tied to some sort of emotion.   This is one of the many reasons we are tied so closely to our Mothers and the other strong women in our lives.  They have been there for us in the greatest of the great moments and the absolute worst of the bad moments.  They have helped us celebrate and they have helped us pick of the pieces.  Our mothers and wives are so crucial because they have such an emotional tie to the absolute core of who we are.  I may not remember the exact words that she spoke to me in those moments but I do recall that she was there for me.  One of the most influential memories I have of my mom was in a staircase at the house on the highway.  My brother wasn’t listening and I was trying to get him to behave.... Ok, we were both acting like jerks and mom had finally had enough.  She threatened and threatened the wooden spoon to no avail.  Even after she spanked us with it either one or both of us let her know that it didn’t bother us and we went on being mouthy little jerks.  Then she broke down right there in the stairwell.  She was bawling.  She was at her wits end.  We had broken her.  We had won.  

But that wasn’t the case at all.  There was no victory.  I felt like crap.  I felt like such a terrible person.  The fact that I made her feel that way that day still sits wrong with me.  I may sometimes forget that moment and still act like a jerk but that moment still shapes the person I am today.  Remembering that moment brings such emotion.  And it did in real time as well.  I remember my brother and I giving her a hug and apologizing without  being prompted to do so.  It is my earliest memory of empathy and as I now have kids of my own I am only beginning to better understand the moment she felt that day.  We broke her heart and we realized it and we felt terrible for it.  I am sure an hour later Keye was back to being a heathen but that moment really impacted me.

I cannot help but to think that God is sometimes that heartbroken and misunderstood mom in the stairwell.  I am sure we sometimes have her at her wits end.  I imagine God often looking at us with heartbreak when He sees how we treat and judge one another.  I imagine God with her hands in her face, whispering softly, “I didn’t raise you like that...” sitting, bawling in that stairwell.  I imagine God seeing the divide in our country and many of the world’s cultures growing wider and wider; I imagine God seeing the mistreated and abused woman and child; I imagine God seeing the total lack of respect we have for one another; I imagine the hurt God must feel when we act like selfish jerks.  I can see God sitting in that stairwell, spoon in hand, so full of guilt for even thinking about that option, broken.  I see her there.

While God spends our whole lives reaching out to us, trying to catch our attention we sometimes are the kids that were in that stairwell and need to go to Her.  God wants a relationship with us.  And like any mother, God knows we won’t be perfect but we are still perfect in Her eyes.  God will love us no matter what but we still have to go to Her.  We still say to Her that we are sorry, not out of guilt but out of love.  Meet the one who is so powerful that he raised Jesus from the dead and seated him at his right hand.  Go, meet God in that stairwell and know that you are loved.  Amen.