October 22, 2006
“Put You In The Place Just Right”
Job 38:1-21 & 42:1-6 and Mark 10:35-45

The nightly news only seems to annoy me, so I get the remote and flip through the channels. With each progressively mindless plotline or bloody scenario I get more depressed, finally turning the whole thing off. I’m frustrated and angry because my day did not go at all like I had planned. My priorities clearly were no one else’s main concerns. I’ve got a nagging headache, my back is tense, and my grumbling stomach reminds me I did not eat well today (to say the least). I’m in a foul mood and clearly looking for someone on whom to blame it all. I say, almost without thinking, “Well, God, you sure ruined a perfectly good day, didn’t you!? If I were in charge, things would be a whole lot different around here!”

Moments later, as my eyelids sag and my head begins to bob, I hear the television back on… but no one else has entered the room. I look at the screen, strangely lit as never before, and a shapeless being can be discerned. Then, a voice, that travels instantly to the core of my soul, brings me to full attention. It is God!

“Allen, I feel compelled to remind you of the fundamental nature of life which you have evidently forgotten. Let me remind you that you are a creature and that I am The Creator…”

Then the television screen disappears completely, as do all the elements of the room I was in, and the entire space around me is filled with a presence broader and deeper than I have ever known. The voice now seems to echo within my very soul:

“Allen, where were you when I created all that was, all that is, and all that has yet to be? Where were you when I carefully crafted the processes you know as life, when I fashioned photosynthesis, generated gestation, formed fusion, opted for osmosis, and decided on DNA? What were you up to when I chose blue for the clear sky, yellow for the sun’s rays, brown for the rich earth, green for leaves in spring, and gold for the fall wheat field? What occupied your time when I picked tall for the giraffe and short for the pig, wide for the oceans and high for the mountains, infinite for the galaxies and for the microscopic atoms? Where were you?”

I did not even begin to think that I should respond, for the divine was clearly just getting started.

“I gifted all the creatures with a spirit and a soul. What would you have done? I chose, out of my good will, to grace the human creature with a vast array of gifts, all put together more uniquely than any fingerprinting, retinal-examining, blood-testing, genetic-matching computer could ever understand: Joy, sorrow, despair, hope, fear, comfort, apathy, inspiration, ecstasy, passions, playfulness, hunger, restlessness, suspicion, grief, longing, loyalty, faith, doubt, cheer, frustration, angst, listlessness, creativity, and so many more you’ll never name them all. And relationships, my originality is endless when it comes to the ways in which I allow you to connect one to another: through biology, friendship, politics, interests, circumstances and situations, love, you name it.”

It was obvious to me that these were rhetorical questions, and God had no interest whatsoever in me responding. I heard a deep breath, and then…
“Perhaps I appear to be a smart aleck. I should ask you about things more recent! Were you with me at Appomatox and Antietam, on the Western Front and at Normandy, at Hiroshima and Nagasaki as I buried the dead? Did you march with me in New York City for the right to vote, to the sea in India to get salt, in the fields to get better wages, or to Selma for justice? Where you present when I wept for the masses killed in Guernica, at Sharpsville, at Jonestown and in Tienaman Square, in Rwanda, Srebrinica, and now in Darfur?

“And lest you think I am some playground bully, some crazed tyrant, some corporate despot, let me remind you my ultimate act of power was in the form you still fail to recognize: in weakness, vulnerability, and servanthood. The apex of my power came in my birth among you as a helpless babe. The zenith of my strength was exhibited as I held a child and laughed. The height of my influence was made clear when I kneeled to wash your feet. The summit of my authority was on a hill, crucified and broken.”

I thought at this point that I should respond, but clearly God was not through yet. “You confound me, Allen, with your despair and you anger me with your desire for greatness. I asked for neither your submissiveness nor for your arrogance. Both contradict my desire for you. When I created you in the beginning, and I gave you dominion over all creation, I meant “responsibility” and not “domination,” I meant for you to nurture life, not destroy it. Instead of understanding your rightful place in the whole of creation, you have imagined yourself as architect and lord, and this will not do! You have an esteemed place in creation, and it is the place just right, but it is not as God. That position is filled, thank you.”

“But neither do I desire you to abdicate your duty. I know this work is hard – no one knows better than me! But you are not in this alone, for I am always with you, I promised you that, and I will never leave my creation to fend on its own. This is a shared task, remember how we did it in the garden in the beginning? You and me together, side by side.”

“When my beloved disciples, James and John, had this same problem, I tried to respond as firmly and yet as gently as possible. They were not alone in their misguided pride, course. The outraged response of the other ten gave away their own aspirations for power! They were all hoping to be appointed to my right hand and my left hand when I came in power. I guess all the crowds that had begun to gather around us had given them visions of thrones and crowns and jewels, with me in the middle and seats of gold, one to the right and one to the left. Those positions were, likewise, filled as I was crucified between two thieves, one on my right and one on my left. Not the kind of positions of power James and John imagined, I suppose!”

At this point, God was quiet. I waited a moment to see what would come next. I had wanted to respond before, but now I found silence to be the most appropriate reply. Comfortably, we waited together in the quiet stillness. Finally, the divine voice spoke again, saying: “My beloved Allen, I seek not to shame you nor break your spirit, but simply to put things into perspective. At the end of your day you seek a confirmation that you have made a difference in the world, and I cherish that desire. But it also breaks my heart to know that you feel you rarely do so. Perhaps I have given you, just for a moment, a glimpse of a different perspective, one that is larger, more eternal, wiser. Like those posters you have in your stores with photos of the universe and the arrow pointing to a miniscule dot saying “You Are HERE!” I want you to see, paradoxically, that you are from my perspective both smaller than a speck of dust, but more precious to me than all of life. You ARE here, and you are my beloved. Do what you can do, what only YOU can do, and then leave the rest to me. That’s the deal, as it has been from the beginning. Can you manage that?”

Needing no words, I simply nodded my head. “Good, then get some rest. You look tired.” I smiled, and though there was no form nor shape, I felt God smiled also.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come round right (1)

Amen.

(1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simple_Gifts
 

Rev. Allen V. Harris
Franklin Circle Christian Church
www.FranklinCircleChurch.org


 

Copyright 2006 -- The Rev. Allen V. Harris

Franklin Circle Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

1688 Fulton Rd., Cleveland, OH 44113-3096