In one of the meditations I practice as I walk and pray (and talk to myself and frighten passers-by who think "creepy man talking to himself!), I imagine God's presence as a wide open field, or range, with endless space where I may wander and explore. Think of driving through Montana or Wyoming as an example. Then I picture the places where, in all that wide open space, I build for myself (or others try to build for me) various fences, barbed wire, and boundaries–things intended to keep me isolated, or separate, from all that God offers. Some are of my own making: "I'm not good enough…or smart enough…or strong enough…or willing to take that risk or work that hard." Others appear from social convention, rules and regulations, norms. "People here don't behave like that! We expect you to be like the rest of us. Don't be too radical, nor too extreme!" Still others, I'm hardly aware I've created until God gives me the gift of seeing them, such as the grip of frustration, or anger, or sorrow. How many ways my horizons are limited by these fences I create all around me! And how great is a God that routinely gives me the tips and tricks to tear down the boundaries that keep me from full relationship! (Cue the western swing music: "Give me land, lots of land, lots of starry skies above…don't fence me in!").
Well, it's nothing quite as amazing as the raising of Lazarus (this week's Gospel), but those last words in John's eleventh chapter this week got me to thinking about the many times and many ways I have felt raised and healed and unbound and able to let go from a similar simple expression from Jesus. Sometimes I snap out of my boundaries by hearing a message that is blunt, and to the point… something like: "Ok Paul, enough already!" And sometimes it takes deliberation and time, creativity and patience, and a whole lot of gentle encouragement from Him.
But I tell you friends, when I hear Jesus say it…my heart and soul listen, and I rejoice. IÂ breathe a deeper breath and think a clearer thought. I am a little more complete as a person than I was before.
Friends, in this time, many of us feel those fences present, obscuring the freedom of our horizons. But as always, we can focus on our scarcities (what we don't have), or our abundance (all the good surrounding us). As I said near the closing of last week's sermon: Look around you… there in your home—in the space you have created day by day. Look out the window to the change in seasons, what God creates day by day. Look around and welcome it.
I've heard stories in the past week of wonderful cooking and baking, of much needed organizing and overdue repair, of reading good books, mending the clothes (and learning to sew!), long telephone conversations with distant friends–I've even heard that this time of isolation has made people feel more connected because they never could justify all the time for friendships previously in their busy lives!
I'm pretty sure it's fair theology to say that God will never limit our horizons, nor "fence in" our faith. I'm also pretty sure that if we feel held back, or "bound" in any way, turning to God, and listening for the guidance of Jesus, is a sure way to expand our horizons and help us be the people God hopes that we will become.
This year, we will be having a Trunk or Treat event instead of an indoor carnival, in order to minimize risk of covid transmission. We’ll be lining up on Arbor Street, behind the church. If you would like to participate by handing out candy, please arrive early. No handmade treats, please. We’ll be handing out candy from 3:00-4:30 on Halloween day. 🎃🎃🎃