Sermon: We are Known
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Sermon: We are Known Texts: Psalm 139 Date: July 20, 2008 Rev. Emily Tanis-Likkel, Eagle Harbor Congregational Church
It's a basic human paradox. We want to be known, to be understood, to be seen for who we truly are. Yet in the same breath, we don't want to be known too well, we don't want our flaws to hang out, our vulnerabilities exposed. If we are known, we may be saved from loneliness, but if we are known, we could be rejected. We have probably all had times when we've wanted to be anonymous. When we've wanted to blend in with the couch we're sitting on in at party. When we've revealed something about ourselves to someone else and afterward wished we hadn't. We humans have a fear of being known, we worry that if someone really looked into our soul, they wouldn't like what they'd see. Yet we consider it such relief to be seen, accepted, and loved with no conditions or judgment. So often we play hide and seek: trying to hide from other, including God, and yet while crouching in the closed we fear that the others will forget us and move onto something else. and then in our seeking we are joyful when we find another. We are blessed by our connections with other people, and transformed by our connection with God. All is laid bare when we encounter God. "O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely." We are searched, we are known, we are never alone. At times it is a message of comfort. At other times it makes us shrink away, so unsure of ourselves and uncertain about God. Yet when searched and known by God, we are found to be God's beloved. Psalm 139 describes God as being dynamically involved in the life of the faith community. God knows us, is always present, and protects us. Like a couple whose relationship is strong en ought to weather the most difficult of circumstances, whose friendship and love deepens despite the storms around them, God holds us, loves us, and guides us through life's ups and downs. God nurtures us through our small goofs, serious blunders, and our times when we are oblivious of God's presence. The word know comes from the greek word "gnosis." The word diagnosis means to know through and through. Henri Nouwen pointed out that when a doctor makes a diagnosis, it is ideally a striving to know the patient through and through in order to discover how to go about treatment.1 To be healed from whatever brokenness besets us, we must be diagnosed, we must be known through and through. God knows us, diagnoses us individually and as a community. When we recognize that we are known by God, completely understood by God, it is here that healing begins. Then we can truly accept ourselves, and be ushered into a deep knowing in our relationship with others. The most intimate relationships in our lives provide a metaphor of how God dwells within us. The bonds within a family or deep friendships give us a glimpse of how God sees us. A few weeks ago I had the privilege of co-officiating a wedding with a lay Rabbi. The Christian bride and Jewish groom have strong faith in God, and love the traditions and rituals of their religions. It was a wonderful experience working with them and the co-officiant to design a wedding ceremony that wove their two faiths together. I also really appreciated learning the Jewish wedding rituals. One of the traditions is to wed under a Chuppah, a wedding canopy. Originally it recalled the wedding chamber where the marriage was consummated, but is commonly considered to represent the presence of God in the marriage and the home the married couple will build together. The wooden chuppah frame and the fabric canopy (sometimes a quilt or special blanket) are often made especially for the day. The four poles are often held by four friends, to remind the couple of the support of all the people in their lives. The four sides of the chuppah are open, symbolizing the importance of community. The chuppah reminds the couple to cultivate a home that is welcoming to others, recalling the tent of Abraham and Sarah, who had their tent sides flung open in gracious hospitality. The open sides also represent the couple's participation in each other's lives. In the tent of marriage, there is no need for secrets; there is no need for the individuals to be anything other than who they truly are. Like the chuppah, our dwelling in God is portable, wherever we go, God is with us. We dwell in God and God in us. The climax of a Jewish wedding ceremony is the blessing and drinking of wine. We commune together under the protective shelter of God's love. The fabric canopy represents the protect6ive shelter of God's love sweeping over like a protective blanket. We are searched, we are known, we are never alone. We find our home in God. If I'm in a store with my five-year-old, Eva, and she loses sight of me for a split-second, she gets upset. I'm often just a few steps away - I'm right here, I reassure her. The fear of being alone is so great for a child. I remember the times I looked for my parents when we would get separated while grocery-shopping. Like it was yesterday, I remember the growing sense of panic I experienced as I looked down every aisle. Logically, I knew that they weren't going to leave without me. But my fear of being alone loomed larger than logic. Adults fear aloneness as well. At times we feel like we've been forgotten, that we've been misunderstood, betrayed and abandoned. God pulls us close and says I'm right here. I understand. God knows what makes us tick, because we are made in god's image. God looks at us children and says, "When I look at you, I see myself." There is no where that we can go that God will not be with us. "If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast." Lewis Smedes paraphrased this section of the Psalm: "When I feel as if I am going over the edge, the bottom is falling out beneath me, I'll not be afraid because you, O God, will be there to hold me up when I fall. When I am lost in the dark and can't find my way, and I'm afraid I'm going to stumble and break my neck, you O God, will take my hand and lead me through. Even when life is hell on earth, I trust you I trust you to be there. I trust you to be there with me, and you will not let me down." Molly Strode is a hospital chaplain and former nun. She wrote this reflection that reminds me of Psalm 139: "God's presence presses in on us from every side. Coming as sudden as a summer storm, as gentle as a spring breeze, as quiet as the sunlight slipping through the forest trees in early morning. It reaches through us like the glance of one we love."2 Whether we are feeling connected to God or are stuck in the ice of a spiritual winter, our God is ever-present. We can become aware of God's presence through our humanity, in our senses. We perceive the holy through the touch of a hand reaching out to us, the taste of bread eaten in community, the smell of the seasons, the sound of rushing water, the sight of fine art. Sister Cecilia was the nun who mentored Molly Strode when she entered the convent at age seventeen. At on point Sister Cecilia had shared with her, "when you realize God's love, your life will change." In the decades following that moment, she strove to understand that piece of wisdom. Finally, in her sixties, she digested it. She wrote, "When I came to accept myself as i am, and understood that God loves me just as I am, I opened the door to the Presence that has always stood on my porch waiting to come in... My constant companion, whether I perceived it or not, is a compassionate God who will always be with me."3 God knows us completely, dwells within us, loves us no matter what. This knowledge has power to transform us. It transforms every moment. The present moment - this is where God is! Every moment is sacred - our coming and going, our sitting and rising, and although we are spiritual beings having a human experience, our fleshly existence is to be celebrated. Our bodies are a testament to God's loving care. Psalm 139 says, "God knit me together in my mother's womb." God created us, God breathes life into us. Let us be thankful for our bodies, and all the whys they serve us in this life. I read somewhere recently that there is great significance in our first thought upon waking. Let us wake considering the grace of God, and fall asleep pondering the love of God. The Psalmist compares counting the thoughts of God as counting sand, that it lulls him to sleep, and then upon waking finds that he is still counting. Oh that we would be as aware of god as God is of us. O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit and when I rise, you perceive my thoughts from afar... I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well... Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. This psalm is a hymn and a prayer that i have brought to God many times. If I don't know what else to pray, this is a good place to start. We can take it a step farther and ask God, "What do you find in me? What do you see? How do I begin to understand your love for me? Henri Nouwen told the story of a former student coming to visit him. The man had no particular agenda, just wanted to sit with his beloved teacher. They conversed a bit, and then sat for a long time in a grace-filled silence. Finally, the student said, "When I look at you it is as if I am in the presence of Christ." Nouwen responded, " It is the Christ in you, who recognizes the Christ in me." Then the man offered these healing words to Nouwen: "From now on, wherever you go, or wherever I go, all the ground between us will be holy ground."4 Maybe you have asked the question: If people really knew me, inside and out, would they still like me, would I be accepted, would I be loved? For some the question becomes so big that it eclipses the willingness to be truly known. For others, inner desires and struggles are laid bare in an effort to truly connect. We searched, we are known, we are never alone. When we begin to digest this knowledge, we also begin to be more comfortable in our own skin, more willing to be known, more open to be changed, and more connected to the world around us. We allow our fears to crumble because God's Spirit dwells within us, knowing us through and through. It is here that we discover that we are home.
2 Creating a Spiritual Retirement, p. 71. 3 Creating a Spiritual Retirement, p. 105. |
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