Right Here Right Now
July 20, 2008
Rev. Susan Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24; Genesis 28:10-19a
Jacob was on the run – we learned in last week’s readings that he was the younger twin to Esau, that his father favored Esau but his mother favored Jacob. Jacob was an operator – not one to leave life as it found him – the second-born, who would end up with both the blessing and the inheritance of a first-born because he cheated his brother and tricked his father. Having succeeded in getting his brother’s birthright, he also earned his brother’s wrath, and Esau was threatening to kill him, so like any smooth operator, he left. Jacob ran away and was heading toward his uncle Laban’s house, where he hoped to find safety and a wife. And we’ll hear about that adventure next week. But this week, he is on the journey, and he becomes tired, and so stops for the night. He finds a stone to use as a pillow, and he lays down and goes to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream…as Shakespeare would have it, and Jacob does indeed dream. He has a vision of a stairway leading into the heavens, with angels ascending and descending the stairway (I envision the busy stairway of a commuter train station), and he hears God tell him, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring; and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” So he has not only inherited the goods and the blessing from his father, but he also is going to inherit the covenant that God has made with his grandfather Abraham, and his father Isaac. Through him all the families of the earth shall be blessed.
Now this is not a reward for his crafty sneakiness – it was prophesied at his birth that the younger brother would prevail over the elder, so it cannot be a surprise when God continues the covenant relationship with Jacob, but it is a reminder than in God’s kingdom, there is no entitlement. Everything is a gift. And this too: God promises the land to Jacob, so he will inherit the gift and the covenant.
So it turns out that despite Jacob having relied utterly on his own wit, he finds himself blessed by God – he finds that he is part of something larger than himself and his own abilities and even his own dreams – he finds himself part of God’s dream. And amazingly enough, it turns out that God’s dream includes him. And so he wakes to proclaim, “Surely God is in this place…and I did not know it.” It’s hard to know which of these he is remarking on – that God is indeed with him, or that he did not know it.
This episode marks a change for Jacob, not so much in his circumstances (for the promise is for the future) but in his own understanding of himself and God – earlier, when he spoke to Isaac about his ability to arrange a quick meal, he had said, “the Lord your God granted me success,” but now, he speaks of the LORD, apparently at last his Lord as well. God has become present to him, he understands God not merely intellectually, but personally. God has become real to him.
And it’s odd how the lectionary has paired these readings, for just as Jacob has grown to realize the reality and presence of God and marvels at it, the psalmist experiences God as not only present but relentless. Where most of us are eager to catch a glimpse, so to speak, of God – we yearn for experiences that will render God more vivid, more knowable, more real, the psalmist is wishing God were a little less present, a little more distant. “You know me inside and out,” says the Psalmist, “You see everything I do, you know everything I think, you surround me, I can’t get away from you, although I have tried.”
But Jacob doesn’t seem to have come to that understanding of God yet – he hasn’t yet realized that God is always with him, always loving him, always caring for him. He takes a marker and names that place: Bethel, which means “House of God” which seems to suggest that he knew God was there, but he doesn’t know that God is everywhere else too. Both Jacob’s experience, and his response to it, suggest that he thought of Bethel as what Celtic spirituality would call a “thin place” – a place where the separation between the material and spiritual dimensions of life seems to vanish. And in Celtic spirituality, as for the psalmist, the material and the spiritual are unified in the world – the separation between them is in our perception, our inability to sense the spiritual dimension much of the time. Celtic spirituality rests on a foundation of unity in the world, on the assumption that God is present throughout the created world. The Celtic understanding is like that of poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who wrote
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
The reference is to the burning bush that Moses saw, when God called him to lead the people of Israel out of slavery, through the wilderness, to the promised land. And when Moses saw the burning bush, he took off his shoes, for he recognizes that God was present, and so it was a holy place. Browning suggests that all the world is a holy place, that all of us have the opportunity to encounter God in this world that God has made, but that we miss such opportunities for wonder, for delight, for recognizing God in our midst, for recognizing ourselves as part of God’s dream for all of creation.
Jacob spent so much energy trying to trick his brother, his father and then had to run for his life. It was only through stopping, resting, sleeping, dreaming that he was able to awake to God’s presence, God’s blessing, right where he was.
So much of our culture is like Jacob – trying to see what we can gain through our own efforts, our own calculation, our own imagination, and so we are too busy to rest in God, stop our own busyness, and wake up to the blessings all around us. Esther de Waal, who has written extensively on Celtic spirituality, summarized once this way:
“I [finally] realize what Celtic blessings are about. They do not beg or ask God to give this or that. Instead, they recognize what is already there, already given, waiting to be seen, to be taken up, enjoyed. What a waste to go through life surrounded by all the good gifts that God showers on me, ‘gently and generously’ yet blind and deaf to his presence hidden in all things, human and nonhuman. As I learn not to take for granted, to wonder anew, I find that a constant attitude of gratitude is life-giving. In the face of such amazing grace and generosity, the only possible response must become that of continuing and ever-deepening praise.”
So instead of taking time for thinking about God in listening to a sermon today I’ll stop. Let’s experience God, in God’s creation, in each other, in the music that Katie and Will share with us, in our experience of ourselves. Take those extra minutes to breathe deeply and wonder at the miracle of your body. Take time today to be present to God’s world, to let yourself wander and wonder, to find a thin place – let God’s world be your sermon. Surely God is in this place and all places – let us take time to know it. Amen.
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24; Genesis 28:10-19a
Jacob was on the run – we learned in last week’s readings that he was the younger twin to Esau, that his father favored Esau but his mother favored Jacob. Jacob was an operator – not one to leave life as it found him – the second-born, who would end up with both the blessing and the inheritance of a first-born because he cheated his brother and tricked his father. Having succeeded in getting his brother’s birthright, he also earned his brother’s wrath, and Esau was threatening to kill him, so like any smooth operator, he left. Jacob ran away and was heading toward his uncle Laban’s house, where he hoped to find safety and a wife. And we’ll hear about that adventure next week. But this week, he is on the journey, and he becomes tired, and so stops for the night. He finds a stone to use as a pillow, and he lays down and goes to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream…as Shakespeare would have it, and Jacob does indeed dream. He has a vision of a stairway leading into the heavens, with angels ascending and descending the stairway (I envision the busy stairway of a commuter train station), and he hears God tell him, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring; and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” So he has not only inherited the goods and the blessing from his father, but he also is going to inherit the covenant that God has made with his grandfather Abraham, and his father Isaac. Through him all the families of the earth shall be blessed.
Now this is not a reward for his crafty sneakiness – it was prophesied at his birth that the younger brother would prevail over the elder, so it cannot be a surprise when God continues the covenant relationship with Jacob, but it is a reminder than in God’s kingdom, there is no entitlement. Everything is a gift. And this too: God promises the land to Jacob, so he will inherit the gift and the covenant.
So it turns out that despite Jacob having relied utterly on his own wit, he finds himself blessed by God – he finds that he is part of something larger than himself and his own abilities and even his own dreams – he finds himself part of God’s dream. And amazingly enough, it turns out that God’s dream includes him. And so he wakes to proclaim, “Surely God is in this place…and I did not know it.” It’s hard to know which of these he is remarking on – that God is indeed with him, or that he did not know it.
This episode marks a change for Jacob, not so much in his circumstances (for the promise is for the future) but in his own understanding of himself and God – earlier, when he spoke to Isaac about his ability to arrange a quick meal, he had said, “the Lord your God granted me success,” but now, he speaks of the LORD, apparently at last his Lord as well. God has become present to him, he understands God not merely intellectually, but personally. God has become real to him.
And it’s odd how the lectionary has paired these readings, for just as Jacob has grown to realize the reality and presence of God and marvels at it, the psalmist experiences God as not only present but relentless. Where most of us are eager to catch a glimpse, so to speak, of God – we yearn for experiences that will render God more vivid, more knowable, more real, the psalmist is wishing God were a little less present, a little more distant. “You know me inside and out,” says the Psalmist, “You see everything I do, you know everything I think, you surround me, I can’t get away from you, although I have tried.”
But Jacob doesn’t seem to have come to that understanding of God yet – he hasn’t yet realized that God is always with him, always loving him, always caring for him. He takes a marker and names that place: Bethel, which means “House of God” which seems to suggest that he knew God was there, but he doesn’t know that God is everywhere else too. Both Jacob’s experience, and his response to it, suggest that he thought of Bethel as what Celtic spirituality would call a “thin place” – a place where the separation between the material and spiritual dimensions of life seems to vanish. And in Celtic spirituality, as for the psalmist, the material and the spiritual are unified in the world – the separation between them is in our perception, our inability to sense the spiritual dimension much of the time. Celtic spirituality rests on a foundation of unity in the world, on the assumption that God is present throughout the created world. The Celtic understanding is like that of poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who wrote
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
The reference is to the burning bush that Moses saw, when God called him to lead the people of Israel out of slavery, through the wilderness, to the promised land. And when Moses saw the burning bush, he took off his shoes, for he recognizes that God was present, and so it was a holy place. Browning suggests that all the world is a holy place, that all of us have the opportunity to encounter God in this world that God has made, but that we miss such opportunities for wonder, for delight, for recognizing God in our midst, for recognizing ourselves as part of God’s dream for all of creation.
Jacob spent so much energy trying to trick his brother, his father and then had to run for his life. It was only through stopping, resting, sleeping, dreaming that he was able to awake to God’s presence, God’s blessing, right where he was.
So much of our culture is like Jacob – trying to see what we can gain through our own efforts, our own calculation, our own imagination, and so we are too busy to rest in God, stop our own busyness, and wake up to the blessings all around us. Esther de Waal, who has written extensively on Celtic spirituality, summarized once this way:
“I [finally] realize what Celtic blessings are about. They do not beg or ask God to give this or that. Instead, they recognize what is already there, already given, waiting to be seen, to be taken up, enjoyed. What a waste to go through life surrounded by all the good gifts that God showers on me, ‘gently and generously’ yet blind and deaf to his presence hidden in all things, human and nonhuman. As I learn not to take for granted, to wonder anew, I find that a constant attitude of gratitude is life-giving. In the face of such amazing grace and generosity, the only possible response must become that of continuing and ever-deepening praise.”
So instead of taking time for thinking about God in listening to a sermon today I’ll stop. Let’s experience God, in God’s creation, in each other, in the music that Katie and Will share with us, in our experience of ourselves. Take those extra minutes to breathe deeply and wonder at the miracle of your body. Take time today to be present to God’s world, to let yourself wander and wonder, to find a thin place – let God’s world be your sermon. Surely God is in this place and all places – let us take time to know it. Amen.