Alright, I’m back and I’m determined to catch up, so you’re about to get a whirlwind of the first half of Year A in the next few weeks. Brace yourselves, ordinary time is coming…eventually.
Micah 6: 6-8
He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake
He knows if you’ve been bad or good
So be good for goodness’ sake….
We all know the song. We hear it every Christmas. We sing along with it on the radio. But when we stop and think about it, it’s kind of creepy. I mean, yeah, this guy is supposed to be super friendly and nice to everyone, and he brings us presents every year, so that’s pretty sweet, but…apparently the reason we don’t get coal from him is cause he can see our every move. All the time. Santa is watching you. While you’re eating. Reading. Sleeping. Santa is watching you sleep.
I mean, that’s super creepy, right? But at the same time, it’s kind of familiar. After all, we know of this other guy who’s watching our every move, all the time, while we sleep. And this one can even see into our heads. But yet, we don’t think that’s creepy; we think it’s comforting.
Right? It’s totally not creepy that God’s following us around with a little notebook tracking our every move…right?
No, you’re right, that’s totally super creepy. But here’s the thing. It’s not really what’s going on.
We have such a tendency to read the whole omnipotent, omniscient God thing as if we’re in some sort of weird, cosmic reality TV show, and the divine camera crew is watching our every move, searching for the exact moment when it’s all just too much and we flip out because it makes for great drama when the contestants are being terrible human beings. But that’s not how God works.
God is present everywhere, but not in some sort of creepy stalker-y way. Our God is a God who shows up, not one who tags along behind everyone making sure we stick to the schedule and everything goes according to plan. Our God is a God who dives head-first into our lives and maybe helps run interference when we screw things up. Think about it. This is a God who was incarnate. Let’s be real, here–if you’re omnipotent, there’s pretty much no reason why you would need to become an actual flesh-and-blood being in order to accomplish anything. So why do it?
We can give all the answers we usually hear about how Jesus’ death was in some way necessary to the process by which we attain salvation, and that is true, but I think it misses a lot of the point. You see, Jesus’ death wasn’t the final word. We are here today, wrestling with his closest friends’ stories of him, because his death wasn’t the final word. On the third day, he rose again. If his death was all there was to it, why bother resurrecting? Or more to the point, if the actual, physical act of resurrection was all there was to it, why not appear to all the disciples and ascend to heaven right then and there?
No. It is not enough to say that Jesus resurrected some day long ago. God is not a God who happens in the past, speaks in the past, lives in the past. God is a living God, one who acts now, speaks now, lives now. Jesus remains the one who was resurrected. He did not come back to life again, he lived again. God took human form in order to live among us. When he died and returned, the first thing he did was live among us some more. He went to his friends’ house, and he ate with them, and he spoke with them, and he lived with them.
I know a pastor who gives, I think, the most beautiful summary of our faith: “Our faith is not about what happens when we die; it is about what happens when we fully live.” God is omnipresent so that we may share our lives with our Creator, that God Incarnate may show us what it means to fully live, that the Spirit may help us let go and live when we can’t do it ourselves. God is not an old man in a red suit and fuzzy hat with a checklist of all our deeds, making sure we’ve got more “nice” than “naughty.” That’s what grace is all about–grace means that at every moment, we have the opportunity to start from zero. No matter how in the red we are, grace means that at the next moment, we start again from zero; at the next moment, we can choose the good deed. And that one good deed will make all the difference.
“With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
Even when Jesus paid for our transgressions, he came back and lived among us again as soon as he was finished. At every moment, we can choose another good deed. At every moment, we can choose once more to fully live. And nothing we have done before can disqualify us from that life. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Living Lord,
We praise you for your desire to share our lives, to walk among us and to show us what it means to fully live. We thank you for the grace that we never quite know how to accept, that we so often feel we don’t deserve, that we struggle each day to comprehend. Fill us with your Spirit in each moment, that we may truly believe that our worth comes not from our deeds but from your love, an infinite love that surpasses our fears, our frustrations, our failures. Inspire us to watch as you continue to reveal yourself to us as we question, as we learn, as we live. Guide us in all that we do, that we may continue to turn toward a life that fulfills the example you have given us. Give us the strength to get up again each time we fall, the tenacity to never stop asking more questions of you, and the spirit to seek you ever more each day. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.
Plagal Cadence 