Up Close and Far Away

by the Rev. Dr. Paul Nancarrow

This sermon is based on Luke 12:32-40. 

It's good to be home! Lee and I had the kind of vacation where it was good to be away, good to be going where we went and doing what we did; but now it's good to be home, too, back in our community and back in our church.

A few days ago, though, I was sitting on a rock in Acadia National Park in Maine, with the Atlantic Ocean and the Maine coastal islands spread out in front and to the right, and to the left and behind the rocky hills and headlands of the Acadian coast. As I was trying to drink in the entire place, I noticed my attention kept shifting. For a little while I'd look at the rock and the waves right in front of me: I'd watch the shape of the water as it flowed around the edges of the rock; I'd notice the tiny shells and the fronds of seaweed that showed how deep the water would be when the tide was fully in; I'd see how each wave seemed a little higher because the tide was rising; I'd catch the sunlight glinting off each wave in a unique pattern because no two waves flowed quite the same; I'd realize that each wave was its own tremendously complex individual reality. Then after a few moments watching the waves I'd lift my eyes up to take in the horizon: the whole sweep of the bay; the shapes of the hills that almost looked like waves made of rock themselves; the wind that ruffled the surface of the water yards away until it came ashore and ruffled my hair as I sat there. I kept alternating between trying to focus in detail on what was right there in front of me, and trying to connect that detail to the whole wide world spread out before me. I realized those two beauties were intertwined: the beauty of each wave depended on the beauty of the bay; and the beauty of the bay was expressed and brought home by the beauty of each wave. I had to keep looking at both to see the beauty of the whole.

And it occurred to me as I was doing this that it was a good metaphor, it was an active example, of the spiritual life. The life of prayer, the practice of the spirit, is a kind of alternation between paying very careful attention to what is right there in front of us, and trying to connect that to the bigger picture, the wider horizon, of God's mystery and God's creativity and God's work of love in the world. The work of prayer is to develop a kind of binocular vision, where we can really see things as they are in themselves, and at the same time see all things as they are in God. We have to look at what's in front of us, and we have to look toward the horizon, and we have to look at them both if we are to see the beauty of the whole.

I think Jesus is telling us something like that in his sayings recorded in our gospel reading today. Jesus says: Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom; therefore be like slaves who are doing their tasks, alert for their master to return from the wedding banquet. Jesus says here it is God's will to give us the kingdom: it is God's good pleasure, it is God's great joy, to catch us up into the work of justice and peace, right relationships for mutual well-being, that is the way God rules in the world. God's reign of love is not yet complete, of course; there is much injustice and disharmony in the world we experience. But the reign of God's love has come to us in Jesus, and it is alreading expanding into the world through the Spirit, and it is God's joy to make us part of that expanding of love through the works of love we do in our daily lives here and now.

The reign of God in creating love in the universe is a pretty big horizon. It encompasses everything from the way the stars move, to the evolution of planets and ecosystems, to the big ideas that can transform societies, to the mysteries and joys and sorrows of births and deaths. Learning to see the big sweep of God's reign of love through creation and history and theology is why we read the Bible and why we study science and why we watch the world around us through the eyes of prayer. We need that big horizon to know that God's love is always already at work no matter where and when we are.

But the big horizon alone is not enough. Jesus says we should be like servants alert at their tasks, we should be doing things close at hand, focused on details, making love manifest, creating justice and peace and communion in the basic actions we take with the people and things around us. Like each wave on the rock was an expression of the entire bay, each wave of activity and response and reflection that comes to us in life is a chance to be part of God's entire reign of love right here and now.

And the work of prayer, the discipline of spiritual growth, is to learn how to see both of them together, both the horizon and the detail, both the great vast reign of God and the task of service here immediately at hand. Like me trying to drink in the scene at Acadia, in the spiritual life we need both the up close and the far away in order to realize the whole beauty God wants for us. We act in the moment with an eye toward eternity; and the eternal ideals of God's reign are made actual in the details of the moments we live. Do not be afraid, Jesus says, God is giving you the kingdom; therefore work the kingdom out in every service you do.

And among the best prayer tools we have for developing that binocular vision of the spirit are the sacraments. The work of a sacrament is to take a simple, ordinary, here-at-hand thing – washing with water, anointing with oil, sharing a taste of bread and wine – to take an ordinary thing and situate it, set it in a context, that allows us to see through that thing to the great horizon of God's reign of love. The work of a sacrament is to take the good news that God's love reigns, that God's life-giving creativity is what rules the world, despite all temporary appearances to the contrary, to take that good news and make it now it in the simplest, most undeniable experiences of taste and touch and togetherness. That's what we're doing for Victoria here in her Baptism today: the whole vast cosmic drama of creation and redemption and sanctification is gathered up and brought together and played out for Victoria – all of it for Victoria! – in this simple gesture of water and oil. That's what we're all doing in this Eucharist today: the entire mystery of the creative Word of God made mortal flesh in Jesus is gathered up and brought together and committed to us – all of it for us! – in this blessing and sharing of bread and wine. The sacraments teach us how to use the binocular vision of prayer in all our experiences. The sacraments teach us to see the eternal in the moment, and the moment in eternity, to see the kingdom in the task and the task in the kingdom; and because we see, then we can do, with fearlessness and compassion and faithfulness and joy.

Jesus teaches us to be mindful of the great vast reign of God in every simple work of love we do. I caught a glimpse of that sitting on a rock on the shore of Acadia Park. We are offered that vision in our sacraments today. Where will you carry that vision with you in the week to come?