Sermon Preached By Jen McClurg - July 6, 2008  

On Friday, we celebrated our Independence Day--the day that we became independent from England.  Generally, among Americans at least, this is thought to be a good thing.  It is a day that we established that, no, someone else does not have the right to run our lives, to tell us what is right and wrong or to tell us what to do with ourselves.           

Yet, this same event is happening now, across our country, right now, still.  People are declaring themselves independent, that they are in charge of their lives and no one else can tell them what is right or wrong or what to do with themselves.  They are declaring themselves independent from God. 

            But, ultimately, these people are just kidding themselves.  We can never be independent from God.  No matter how much we declare that God has no place in our lives and nothing to do with us, God is still there.  When life is going well, we say “Well, look what I have done for myself!  I don’t need God, I did this.”  When life is not going well, we say “Where is God now?  God has abandoned me, because this should not be happening to me.  Well, fine then.  If God wants to abandon me, then I will abandon God.” 

            None of this is correct, though.  God is always there with us – ALWAYS.  The problem is that we are just not tuned in enough to realize this.  We don’t recognize God in our everyday life. 

            I am guessing that most of us celebrated Independence Day by going to see fireworks.  Loud noises, bright colors flashing through the sky, the ooh’s and aah’s of appreciation.  That is what we want God to look like--a totally obvious, totally spectacular kind of sight, like the burning bush that appeared to Moses.  Now THAT is how God should communicate!  The problem is, though, that we are not adequately prepared to handle God’s appearance like that.  When it comes to God, we are like children.  And how do children react to fireworks?  They react with fear, with tears, by covering their ears, furrowing their brows, squishing their eyes shut and burrowing into their mothers and fathers.  

            If God appeared to us like fireworks, we would miss the message because of our fears.  God knows this.  So God appears to us in other ways--ways that we, as adults, miss.  Think about nature’s own fireworks shows--shows that children love--the endless stars that cover a country sky, the glow of fireflies in summer, the sparks in a fire as you toast marshmallows.  These are experiences that children delight in.  These are God experiences that we can handle.  Yet so often, as adults, we miss them.  We take for granted all the little things in life, the everyday things, the unspectacular things. 

These, though – THESE are the things that we need to find God in. 

            Jesus himself taught this to his followers.  In Matthew, we read, “I praise you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned and revealed them to little children.”  No matter how hard we try to convince ourselves that we KNOW what is right and we KNOW what God expects of us because we are adults, we are wise, we are learned, Jesus gently reminds us that we are wrong.  However, before we all begin to despair that, yet again, aging has thrown us for a loop-- besides the weight gain, the hair loss, the slowing down, and now not knowing God--I should point out that “little children” is generally meant to be the humble followers of Jesus.  So rejoice, for we are all little children to God! 

            At the Angel Gang on Tuesday, a few people were talking about the newest book they had read: “The Shack” by William Young, and how I just HAD to read it!  Now, let me tell you, these Angel Gang folks can be relentless.  No matter how much I don’t need it or want it, they are always putting food in front of me, giving me hugs, and telling silly jokes.  Since I was sure they would harass me about reading this book until I gave in, I immediately agreed with them, and said, “Oh yes, I definitely need to read that book!”  I then put it out of my mind until Donna Lane stopped by on Wednesday with the book for me. 

            I couldn’t put it down.  

            It is an amazing story of one man’s weekend in a shack with God and all that he experienced in that time.  And this part is totally going to give away the fact that I am a slacker and did not have this meditation written in final form before Wednesday, but when I finished the book on Thursday, I felt like God had put it in my hands to open my eyes and inspire me.  At one point in the book, Mack, the main character, is talking to God and asks if he will always be able to see or hear God, even when he has left the shack.  I would like to share a part of that conversation with you now, edited a bit as to not ruin the story. 

            To Mack’s question, God replies “You can always talk to me and I will always be with you, whether you sense my presence or not.”

            “I know that now, but how will I hear you?”

            “You will learn to hear my thoughts in yours,” God reassured him.

            “Will it be clear? What if I confuse you with another voice? What if I make mistakes?”

            God laughed, the sound like tumbling water, only set to music.  “Of course you will make mistakes; everybody makes mistakes, but you will begin to better recognize my voice as we continue to grow in our relationship.”

            “I don’t want to make mistakes,” Mack grunted.

            “Oh Mack,” responded God, “mistakes are a part of life and God works his purpose in them, too.” 

            As children, we are gently corrected when we make mistakes. As adults, we are usually not so lucky, with reactions ranging from mockery and ridicule to scorn.  How lucky we are, then, that God sees us as children and wholly believes in the idea that we all learn from our mistakes.  Perhaps our mistake this far has been not fully opening our eyes to the glory and wonder that God puts in front of us each and every day.  I encourage you and challenge you to look at the world through new eyes.  Stop waiting for the fireworks and start appreciating the fireflies.   

            Amen.