The Unexpectedness of God

 Sermon offered at Trinity Episcopal - St Louis, January 14, 2024: Second Sunday after the Epiphany

It has been too long since I last stood before you. August 2022 to be precise. I often feel like Paul with his epistles, reaching out to you in the E-times, hoping you read the words I write, hoping to elicit a deep longing within you by sharing the sacred stories of the people who come to Pantry & Hot Lunch. Writing is good but it is better to be here in person with you.

For those who do not know, I am Barbi Click, Deacon, Diocesan Missioner of Jubilee Ministry, and Manager of Trinity Food Ministry. My primary focus as deacon, as Missioner, and as Manager of TFM is to bring the concerns of this world to you while enticing you to become engaged, to “Come and see” what new things God is making for us and with us in this ministry that is such a vital part of this parish. It may be a 50-year-old ministry, yet every week brings a newness to this place. It is not what it was just as it is not what it will be.

As a Jubilee Ministry Center, we are a place where mutual ministry happens. We are not alone. TFM thrives because it is an inter-religious, inter-relational ministry. There are 6 Episcopal parishes, 3 other denominations, 1 non-denomination, a synagogue, a construction company, and several local businesses, not to forget all the individuals near and far who volunteer, contribute money or material donations each month.

In addition to all of this, and more importantly, the people who allow us to help – they offer us their trust, their fellowship. We could not do this without them.

Can you imagine what you might have to set aside to ask strangers for help? I clearly remember one woman years ago. She was so arrogant and demanding that she set the volunteers in a frenzy each time she came to the Pantry. One day, I happened to glance up and to see her outside the glass doors. She stood there for a few seconds, pulled her shoulders back, raised her head, and she walked in as if she owned the place. At that moment, I did not see her arrogance. I saw a proud woman who set aside her pride as she prepared to enter into that place filled (at the time) with a bunch of privileged white women as she, a Black Woman, came seeking their assistance for her most basic human need. Can you imagine what she had to set aside to walk through those doors?

Each event in our lives – whether it is a difficult or easy moment, offers an opportunity for an unexpected encounter with the Divine. In those few seconds before she walked in, I had a very unexpected encounter with the Divine. I saw this woman as I had never seen her before. It changed me; therefore, it changed our relationship for the better.

It isn’t always easy yet … the willingness to be present in the moment offers unexpected opportunities to see what we might not otherwise see.

Samuel is just a boy, he expects little. Maybe approval from Eli, enough food to eat, a place to sleep. Yet he is alert. He hears a voice. Thinking Eli is calling him, Samuel responds to him. Even as he does not yet know God, God knows him … Eli tells Samuel to wait, to listen, and to respond when he next hears the voice. “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.”

Nathanael expects nothing or even less – after all, what prophet much less a messiah had ever come from Nazareth? Philip invites him to “Come and see.”

Jesus greets Nathanael by exclaiming “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” And he questions Jesus, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus says, I saw you under the fig tree, the tree of abundance.

I have found no theological explanation that adequately satisfies my questions as to why Nathanael suddenly realizes that Jesus is the Son of God, the King of Israel simply because Jesus sees him and makes a character assessment. Regardless of my lack, Jesus’ word let Nathanael know that he was indeed known, understood, and seen.

To be known – to be understood – to be seen.

How often do you feel invisible or misunderstood, even as you may feel righteous in your stance? Have you diverted your eyes from looking at a person directly when you were mad at them? Or do you throw up a firewall to keep others out of your heart and head? Or have you diverted your eyes so as not to acknowledge another’s existence? – We all have at one point.

As a society, we are quite awful about ignoring those things that make us uncomfortable, or that we do not wish to see, or know, or understand.  

In Divinity School I took a Womanist Theology class, and without a doubt, it was THE most challenging and life-changing course I ever took. In the first week of class, the professor paired us, had us stand about a foot apart, face to face. The task was to look into each other’s eyes for a set number of minutes. I stood in front of a woman I didn’t know. Surely we were both a little bit defiant as if it was a staring contest and whoever blinked first lost. I assume this because that was how I felt. We glared/stared at one another for a bit and then … something changed. I realized the color of her eyes was a very dark rich brown, so dark I could hardly see her pupils. Yet within her eyes, I could see my reflection. Suddenly, the glaring was replaced by what felt like a deep look of longing, as if I was invited in, fully welcomed or not, inviting me into her soul. I can only assume that she saw the same in me. Suddenly our time was up, and it felt almost embarrassing how close we had been for those few moments. As if we knew each other in an intimate and personal way, as if we had been what Julian of Norwich and theologian Richard Rohr called “Oneing.” While it was uncomfortable, this life lesson taught me that the eyes are indeed the pathway to understanding, to knowing.

Yada is the Hebrew word to know, to be known. It is intimate and personal. To be known by God is an intimate experience. To be known, to know others is just as intimate and personal.

We see what we want to see. Sometimes we are surprised by seeing what we never expected. That is an unexpected encounter with the divine.

In my letters to the parish in the E-times, I often use the phrase “Come and see” as a way to invite you to be more personally involved in the life of TFM. In particular, the Wednesday Cafe. I must admit, it is not what most would call a very exciting encounter. Regardless, it is engaging.

On Wednesday, those of us who are “regulars” have come to know that George, aka “Woody” will come and sometimes share his newest art that he makes from scrap wood he finds. Or that Susie will arrive 30 minutes before it’s time to close, that she loves the desserts that Cathy Tierney makes, and always wants to take an extra cup of Lisa Carpenter’s soup home with her. And if it isn’t raining, Mike will show up. We never know when Phil will be there until we see him, yet we do know that he loves food – any food, all food. And he loves to converse!

This is just a snapshot of those who stop by to sit a little while, enjoy a little food and fellowship. It is an ordinary time full of extraordinary moment. Little is expected of anyone yet we all receive so much. Sometimes, there is an unexpectedness moment that reminds us that a precious bit of insight into someone’s personal life has been shared. It might never have been had we not been present, simply there, together.

Eli told Samuel to listen, to be present, to respond. To be ready to say, Here I am. I am listening. For me, that is Wednesday Café – we offer our presence, our willingness to listen. And then we wait just in case.

As followers of Jesus, we are called into his beloved community. It isn’t always comfortable and can be quite difficult. It may feel like a burden or a challenge. Yet, within every burden there is a gift. Within every challenge there is a treasure.

In one of Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. He notes that Jesus “focuses on the way we do life AND do life with and for our neighbor.” It is not enough to just show up on Sunday. Life happens all week long. Rohr continues, “The soul is refined in engagement, in relationship, in doing, in connecting.”

It is ALWAYS about relationship. We cannot connect with people we don’t know or understand if we are not present, or if we do not allow them into our presence.

Offering a ministry for those who are classified as “the working poor” can be seen as requiring little. Give food; it’s done. It’s rather easy to be engaged in works of charity without understanding the reasons why the charity is needed. Yet what about those who are more clearly “the least of these?”

Can anything good come from people who are homeless, have felony records, have trauma induced substance abuse disorders, who no place to lay their heads, or are freezing to death as I speak? I say yes. A great deal of good is present within those who suffer from these conditions. A great deal of good can be available for us if we recognize the unexpected goodness of God.

A bigger question is: Can anything good come from me and you if we lower our eyes, turn away from or ignore the needs of those who lack the basic human needs of clean water, air, good food, safety, shelter, sleep? If we care more for stray animals than we do for our siblings who have strayed or been cast out?

To know is to love. To love is to know. We will never know nor love fully if we are not willing to be present. While we cannot help but be in this world, we, as followers of Jesus, cannot be OF this world.

It is easy to shuffle Paul off to the side, to ignore what may seem like his fornication rantings. Yet what he is saying is that as we strive for a deeper spiritual life with God, there is an intimacy that unites us with the Holy Spirit, therefore we are a temple, a sacred space. We may be IN this capitalism-run-amok, Love deprived, fear-filled world yet we must KNOW that we cannot be OF this world as long as God is with us, and in us.

The sacred stories of this food ministry matter – not just in bragging rights to share for the next rector and the world to see. These matter because these are the sacred stories of people just like you and me yet whose lives are confounded by incredible traumas and injustices, whose basic needs are denied and whose human rights are constantly obstructed. They are fellow siblings in Christ, and we, as their siblings, can do something about the world we live in. It is not enough that TFM is there; we must know why there is a need for the work.

As a Jubilee Ministry Center, meeting the basic human needs of people is only one part of our purposes. Relationship is another. And out of that relationship, our understanding that advocacy is vital. The mandate of Jubilee Ministry is to act as a network to engage with joint discipleship in Christ with and for poor and oppressed people, wherever they are found, to meet basic human needs, and to build a just society. Relationship. Charity. Advocacy.

It means that Jesus is always there and so are we – whether it is in sharing a meal, offering groceries, or using our privilege to speak out in our City, our State to demand basic human needs be met for all of our brothers and sisters, our siblings.

There is much work to do, both in that South Parish Hall, in City Hall, and in the halls of our state government. It takes all of us and it demands that we remember, to know or be known takes a willingness to see and love beyond our understanding, even beyond our human frailties and limitations.

I invite you to Come and See what good and new things God is making with us and for us. Come and see and let’s change the world, one love at a time. Amen.