CProp18

Jeremiah 18:1-11; Psalm 139: 1-6, 13-18; Philemon 1-21; Luke 14:25-33

September 9, 2007

He drove up to the parking lot and marveled at the changes he saw.

Where there had been broken, uneven sidewalks,

there were now brick walkways,

with pavers neatly laid in an attractive, patterned design.

As he walked toward the door of the building,

where there had been a group of malnourished azalea bushes,

long thin grey stalks with a few sparse leaves on the ends,

growing out of hard packed dirt,

there was now a fountain with lush, colorful flowers around it.

He hadn’t been to the campus in 6 years, since his retirement,

and he wondered who he might see

that remembered him and would welcome him.

How things had improved!

Long-range plans that were just being put in place

had been accomplished.

The old administrative building appeared to have shrunk

as it stood next to the new one,

a modern building with hints of the older architecture on campus,

but cleaner, simpler lines…

and lots of glass at the front

inviting the visitor into a bright and airy reception area.

He made his way into the ‘new’ and found the office he was to report to.

He was greeted by a young faculty member whose name he recognized

but whom he had never met.

He was led to where the student reunion banquet was going to be held,

at which he would be the guest speaker.

It’s okay, he thinks to himself.

Time has gone by, institutions progress,

students graduate, faculty and staff retire.

I shouldn’t get my hopes up that this will actually be some grand reunion for me.

I’m here for what I’ve been asked to do.

And I’ll do it to the best of my ability

for this place that I served for the better part of my career.

Then, as they walked down a hall, he heard,

“Well, if it isn’t the president himself!”

And he saw in front of him, Bobbie, one of the cleaning crew;

aged a bit, but still so much the same.

More than seeing Bobbie,

the former president of the school saw a smile

that was gleaming with recognition and welcome.

And eyes that knew him.

In Bobbie’s eyes were an accumulation of years

of casual exchanges in hallways, sometimes brief conversations.

But it all added up to being known by someone.

At the banquet, he was greeted by one after the other

with that same depth of shared memories.

A professor, now tenured, whose early years were shaped by his leadership

and with whom he had developed a close collegial friendship,

came up and with an ernest handshake, simply said his name, ‘John’.

The campus receptionist,

who had greeted him on the phone a few days before

beamed and said,

‘Dr. Stevens it’s so good to see your face.’

When the meal came to an end and coffee was served

he got up to the podium,

and he was amazed, and warmed that his connectedness with this place

and so many of the faces he saw in the audience

had remained so fond and familiar.

A woman is in her hospital bed and her husband comes in.

She has been through surgery that had almost proved fatal.

Her heart had stopped for several minutes,

but the surgical team had resuscitated her.

She starts talking as soon as her husband comes through the doorway.

“My mother and father, and my little brother who died so long ago,

…. and so many others!

They were there with arms opened to receive me.

When I saw their faces, it was as though all the memories,

the good times and the bad,

all the years we had shared.

all the love – and even all ways we failed each other.

It was all right there reflected on their faces.

Their eyes and smiles and arms told me how well they still know me, all of me,

and how much they love me.”

School reunions, family reunions, returning to home towns and former jobs.

Making travel plans to visit childhood friends,

having precious time, face-to-face, with long-distance family members.

And, yes, perhaps even a near-death experience.

Times that say to us that we are known.

Times that gift us with that wonderful safe, arrived, in-place feeling

that we truly do have a permanent place in the hearts of certain people.

Psalm 139, one of the most beautiful writings in scripture

conveys such belonging.

Where can I go from your spirit?

How can I hide from your eyes?

How could I wander away from you,

Knowing that you are so wise?

If I take the wings of the morning,

Or dwell in the depths of the sea.

Even my darkness hides nothing from you

And with your hand you will lead me.

You have searched me out and known me.

You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You know my thoughts from afar.

Indeed, there is not a word on my lips,

But you know it altogether.

Parker Palmer, in his book written for educators,

To Know as We Are Known, writes:

When I pray, as I recollect [my] life,

life is recollecting me in my original wholeness.

In prayer, I not only address the love at the core of all things;

I listen as that love addresses me,

calling me out of isolation and self-centeredness

into community and compassion.

In prayer, I begin to realize that I not only [can] know but am known.

This love knows our limits as well as our potential,

our capacity for evil as well as good.

Yet, it does not seek to confine or manipulate us.

Instead, it offers us the constant grace of self-knowledge and acceptance

that can liberate us to live a larger love.

He maintains that the insight most central to spiritual experience: we are known in detail and depth by the love that created and sustains us, known as members of a community of creation that depends on us and on which we depend.

To know that others, all others, are known as we are known.

To know that others are loved as we are loved.

And, hopefully, to love others as we are loved.

Paul must have had the experience,

perhaps in that encounter that changed his life

when the risen Christ

that ‘Word that became flesh and dwelt among us,

full of grace and truth’ (John 1:14)

scared him to death on the roadside so that he fell down and became blind,

but what changed his life was that Jesus called him by name.

He wrote in his letter to the church in Corinth:

For now we see in a mirror, a dim reflection;

but we will see face to face.

Now I know only in part;

but I will know fully,

even as I have been fully known. (I Corinthians 13: 12)

What do we do with such knowledge that is too wonderful for us?

That we are known to our core by a loving God

and our most precious human relationship echo

that all-knowing all-accepting love?

We entrust ourselves to it…

We have a Creator who knew us before we were formed in our mother’s womb.

We have a Savior who became fully human

so that we might become fully human.

We have a Spirit who enlivens us

and opens our minds to God’s loving knowledge of us

and who connects us to each other

and breathes into our hearts

the capacity to join in and build up this community

as we gain the capacity to know as we are known

and love as we are loved.