Encounters with God

I'm taking a short break from Jung (although he slips in at the end, as you'll see) to share a sermon I was privileged to give at the First Baptist Church of Westwood, Massachusetts yesterday.  It was the second in a two-part series based on the notion of encountering God in various ways.  The first part was preached last Sunday by my wonderful husband, speaking about Jacob at the Jabbok, and I picked up the theme of encounter with the story of Elijah and the "sound of sheer silence."

Enjoy!  Next post will wrap up the series on Jung, religion and spirituality.

Preparing for this Sunday’s service, we read a series of related entries in the Common Lectionary, and discovered a series of encounters between God, either God the Mighty One, or God in the Person of Jesus, and people who found themselves in the kinds of situations that may sound “biblical” when you read about them in church, but maybe aren’t so unusual once you give them a second look.

Let me start by looking at the prophet Elijah in the story of the voice on the mountain, the “sound of sheer silence,” the passage read this morning.  Some of us may remember an older translation, the sound of the “still, small voice” that followed the wind, and the earthquake, and the fire. 

Elijah had been working hard to convince the people of Israel to remain faithful to God in the generations following the death of King Solomon.  The nation had seen its glory days under King David, and his son, but those days were gone, and now due to fear and greed and lust for power, the kingdom had become divided, and things were falling apart at the seams.  It was just the kind of national crisis that makes faithful people want to beg God for a really dramatic sign – an earthquake, or a tsunami, anything to get people’s attention! – so things can be straightened out, and life can get back to normal. 

But that’s not what God did.  God spoke to a single, faithful man, a prophet who, at this very moment was in terrible trouble, and feeling pretty sorry for himself to boot!  And God spoke quietly, infinitely quietly, to this one man.

Now, I can imagine that there were other people around who heard the wind, and felt the earthquake, and saw the fire, and imagined God was speaking a word of judgment in those events.  And, according to scripture, they would have been wrong.  (Remember that the next time someone tries to tell you why the floods and the hurricanes happen in certain places. )  That isn’t how God works.  God spoke to that one, faithful, fearful man, in a still, small, silent voice, and told Elijah:  go back where you came from, and fearlessly appoint new leaders for the people, and trust that God will turn the tide and restore the nation. 

I can imagine Elijah wasn’t really too pleased with those instructions.  When the whole world has fallen apart and you’re running for your life, the last thing you want to hear is, “Go back, I’m in charge, it’s all going to be all right.”  But that’s essentially what God said, and to Elijah’s everlasting credit, he believed God, and did what he was told.

What I find reassuring in this story is that I’ve come across other times when God spoke in that same quiet, nearly-silent voice, and said nearly the same thing to someone in deep trouble, and raised them up to new life and faith and opportunity.  Let me give you an especially poignant example.  Many years ago, early in my ministry, I came to know a woman I’ll call Anna.  She was in her early 30s, working in an office job, dreaming of becoming a nurse-midwife.  But her husband  was an alcoholic who abused her, and talked her down, and convinced her she’d never amount to anything. 

She had exactly one friend, a woman she worked with, but she didn’t know where her friend lived.  She was too ashamed to tell her family how bad her home life was.  She was as isolated and afraid as Elijah was in that tiny cave, and the fires and earthquakes that surrounded her were the abuse and traumas of her daily life. 

One dark winter night she was driving home, wishing she could go somewhere, anywhere else, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go, and she thought, maybe I’ll just drive into a tree.  No one would miss me, and all this pain and anguish would be over.  She told me later, she just needed to find a tree big enough to do the job, and the courage to drive fast enough to get it over with. 

And into the deep despair of Anna’s heart came a still, small voice.  It was a voice of light, and hope, and infinite love.  That voice said to Anna, “If you need to come home, I will welcome you with open arms.”  That was NOT what Anna had expected God to say to her about ending her own life.  But there it was – God was not going to condemn her in the midst of her pain, God was already forgiving her.  But that was also not the end of the message.  The soft, kind voice went on to say, “But if you’ll hang on a bit longer, I have something I wanted you to do.”  And immediately Anna thought of her dream of becoming a midwife. 

“But I can’t do that!” she said out loud.  “I’m a mess!  I don’t have the money to go back to school, my husband wouldn’t let me anyway.”   

“I know,” said the voice, “all you have to do is hold on a little longer.  I’ll take care of the rest.”

She drove a while, and thought a lot, and finally Anna went home.  The still small voice she had heard that night was enough to give her the hope she needed to turn things around.  If God believed in her that much, then maybe, little by little, one day at a time, she could believe in herself.  It was a long struggle, but Anna finally did become a midwife, and the world has welcomed many beautiful children because of her courage, and her skill, and her faith.

Now, not all encounters with God are as dramatic as Anna’s, or Elijah’s.  Sometimes they happen when we’re not looking, or asking, or even thinking much about it.  That’s what I think the Gospel story is about – the ways in which God will reach into our lives when we least expect it, and open up new possibilities.  I’m going to tell this story about myself!

Some years back I parted company with a friend who had started out nice enough, but had turned into a bit of a bully.  Nothing I did was right, all his opinions were terribly important and correct, and eventually spending time together was just a burden.  I stopped returning his calls, and made it clear that I wanted nothing more to do with him.  But honestly, I was really hurt and angry about his behavior, and I left the friendship feeling terribly victimized and resentful. 

One day many months later, I received a letter from him reminding me that I owed him some money.  He was so angry with me, and so reluctant to contact me directly, that he’d tried to hire a lawyer to get me to pay up, but it turned out the amount I owed him was less than the lawyer would have charged, so he decided to write me himself.   I was speechless, reading that letter.   First of all, I’d forgotten all about the loan, and second, I was shocked that he would go to such lengths to avoid just asking for the money back.  And third, I was surprised to discover that I wasn’t angry or resentful any more.  The burden of negativity that I’d been carrying around for months was gone, and I hadn’t even asked to be relieved of it. 

And that wasn’t the end of the miracle. 

I sat down and wrote out a check, and enclosed a short note of apology, and wished my old friend well.  A week later another letter came, with my check enclosed.  I can’t remember now what the letter said, but gist of it was that he acknowledged I’d made an honest mistake, and decided that the small amount of money was worth less than the apology that accompanied it.  Miracle of miracles!  Two burdens released, and neither one of us had asked for it.

The great psychologist Carl Jung is quoted as saying, “Bidden or unbidden, God is present.”  I believe that is the message behind these two readings.  We may actively seek out the encounter with God, or God may slip quietly up behind us.  Either way, we know we have encountered God because our burdens are released, our fears are calmed, our cares are lightened, our path illumined. 

My friend Anna had to reach the depth of despair before she could hear the voice of God, but it found her just at the moment when she needed to hear its message of hope.  And I, like the woman in the temple, I just kept showing up, saying my prayers and letting God know I was here, and God released me from a bondage I never knew I was in.

Bidden or unbidden, God will be present in your life today. 

What word of hope might you hear? 

What weight might be lifted? 

What unexpected joy might come your way? 

Do please let me know when it happens. 

Amen.