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God's Messengers A sermon about the unseen world The Bible is a truly visionary book. From Genesis in the beginning to Revelation at the end, it is filled with accounts of people discovering more in the here and now than they ever imagined. And their discoveries make all the difference, because as soon as people see the world as it really is—heaven along with earth, unseen along with seen—then they are never the same again. Take the experience of Jacob reported in our first reading. The Bible introduces Jacob to us as a wheeler and dealer, the ambitious sort of guy we might call “a self-made man.” Jacob sees what he wants, sets his sights on it, and goes for it. He’s been a manipulator since his youth, when he tricked his older brother Esau out of the perks that come to a firstborn. Later at his father’s death-bed he puts on a masquerade, and wheedles the lion’s share out of the old man’s estate, and then goes about his merry way. His older brother Esau grows murderously mad and Jacob figures this time he’s gone too far, and he makes a run for it. Jacob jogs all day until he drops in the gathering darkness, wraps his cloak about himself, and slips into sleep. It is now, as his conscious, conniving brain is laid to rest, that something more about his world surfaces. Up to this moment he has been setting up his own ladders in life and climbing them. Now he senses another ladder which rests on the same ground he tramples every day, but it doesn’t lead to some selfish goal he has set for himself. Instead it leads to God. As Jacob lies at the foot of this ladder anesthetized in sleep, angels glide silently up and down its rungs. And beside him stands the Lord, right here on common ground with him. God is here, showing him things he’s never seen before and offering him a whole new way to live in which deceit and manipulation have no place. Jacob is called to live, really live, not for himself alone but in relationship with God. Now daylight returns and Jacob awakens; but he is not the same person who fell asleep. Listen to how life looks to him now: “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it. How awesome is this place…this is the gate of heaven!” He finally senses the something more in the here and now. And although today’s reading leaves off at this point, the Bible goes on to quote Jacob saying this: “If God will be with me, if he will protect me on my journey and give me food to eat and clothes to wear…then of all that God gives me, I will without fail allot a tenth part to God.” Jacob is a changed man. He vows to no longer serve himself first but to first serve God, and because of that Copernican revolution in his attitude life ever after will be infinitely more surprising and amazing, as God’s promises to him, and his promises to God, play out. Our Gospel today brings another report of life-changing encounter, and again angels play a leading role. As the story opens Jesus has just been baptized, and he now passes among the villages of Galilee seeking disciples so his ministry can begin. As Jesus enters the town of Cana a man named Nathanael hears the buzz about him but blows it off: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” he scoffs. The Nathanael we meet here is every bit as cynical and skeptical as Jacob. He knows what he knows, he wants what he wants, and he is cock-sure he is right. He sits out the agitation in Cana occasioned by Jesus’ arrival, preferring to sit by himself and read under a tree—when all of a sudden a neighbor interrupts and goads, “Come see this Jesus for yourself!” For some reason Nathanael takes the bait and bestirs himself to approach Jesus, most likely expecting to find his suspicions confirmed that Jesus is nobody special. But Jesus is about to burst his bubble. This Nathanael who pictures himself as the sage observer on the world, suddenly discovers that he’s the one who’s being observed! “Jesus,” he blurts out, “where did you get to know me?” Nathanael’s former “can-anything- good-come-out-of-Nazareth” world starts to disintegrate. “Rabbi,” he rushes on, “you must be the Son of God, the King of the Universe!” Watching the old Nathanael crumble from the inside out, Jesus responds, “It’s just a matter of time until you begin seeing angels too, going up and down between heaven and earth!” The new Nathanael becomes a disciple of Christ, and we meet him again after the Resurrection, faithfully poised on the shores of Lake Galilee, welcoming the Risen Lord. The Bible is a truly visionary book, showing us how someone like Jacob can become a tither, a person whose use of outward and visible wealth bespeaks the inner grace of the angels’ visit. And how someone like Nathanael can turn into a disciple, a person whose outward and visible use of time and talent bespeaks the grace of the angels’ visit. Angels have that kind of impact on the people who encounter them. But chances are, as you and I listen to these reports about angels, several of us are saying to ourselves, “Well, it’s all well and good to have angels in the Bible where they belong, but believing that the real world is strewn with invisible ladders and angels, and that we actually stumble over them as we’re going about our daily business, what evidence do we have for believing that? Our question, though common, is a set-up. In demanding to be shown evidence, we set ourselves up as authorities whose queries must be satisfied. And we put stingy pre-conditions on what can count as truth. Consider this scenario. Assume that our world is littered with invisible ladders and angels which we stumble upon from time to time. Assume that even though they are there we’ve somehow lost our ability to see them. But how could we have gone so blind? The answer lies in our twisted relationship with science. We’ve taken science, which makes a wonderful servant for solving practical problems, and mistaken it for the master of all truth. Science makes a great servant but a terrible master. Trying to use it to plumb life’s deepest mysteries is like trying to pound nails with a screwdriver. The point never gets driven home. At Wednesday morning Bible Study this week we got brave enough to challenge our blind spots, and began sharing personal stories about angels. Mine comes from a time years ago when a foreign exchange student came to live with us. Shortly after arriving she developed violent stomach pains at school and I was called to rush her to the doctor, who immediately diagnosed intestinal blockage. If medication did not relieve the situation quickly she would need surgery. So I was left praying in the waiting room, surrogate mother to a teenager I had only just met. And as I was praying I suddenly saw an angel before me, an immense, strong, deep red, towering figure like I had never seen before. Perhaps it was Raphael, the archangel of healing, because the words rapidly came to me “with healing in his wings.” I didn’t know who this was and I didn’t care. I just desperately wanted not to see this child face major surgery on my watch. I glanced at my wrist watch, wondering how much longer we would be in kept suspense, and then turned back to praying. After a few more minutes the door to the examining room opened and the nurse approached me, bearing the good news that the medication had worked and I would be taking the girl home. With the image of the angel seared in my mind I couldn’t resist asking her what time it was when the crisis broke, and the answer she gave matched my what my watch had said to the minute. The Bible is a truly visionary book, filled with accounts of people like you and me who discover that there is more to the here and now than we ever imagined. And our discoveries make all the difference, because as soon as we begin to see the world as it really is—strewn with ladders and angels, things unseen mingled with things seen—then we will never be the same again. Amen. © Copyright The Rev. Ann Lukens 2004 |
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