God's Vision

What does God see that we do not? Or, more to the point, what could we see if we looked at the world using God's eyes instead of our own? Too often, we see only what is written in large, bold letters, and overlook what seems insignificant. This sermon -- my first after returning from a denominational meeting in Long Beach, California -- considers just this question.

Let me give you some background information about this morning's scripture reading (Habakkuk 2:1-3). Oh, it’s a great reading all by itself. But if I set this reading in its historical context, it might have even more meaning for you.

Habakkuk was a prophet who lived in the southern kingdom of Judah, probably 600 years before Christ. If we read from the first chapter of the book, we would find that he is dismayed at what he sees around him. “Why do you make me look at injustice?” he asks God. “Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are all around me. There is strife, and conflict abounds. The law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted (1:3, 4). Why are you silent while the wicked swallow up those more righteous than themselves?” (1:13) In other words, what is wrong with you, God? The world is all messed up! Things shouldn’t be the way that they are! Why, Habakkuk has begun to wonder if God is even on the job anymore.

Things haven’t changed much, have they? We can echo Habakkuk’s complaint almost word for word. “Destruction and violence are all around me.” That’s for sure, especially if we live in some Chicago neighborhoods. “Conflict abounds. The law is paralyzed.” He might as well be talking about our Congress. They can’t get agree on enough to get even the simplest bipartisan bill passed. “The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.” Yeah, there are plenty of wicked folks around. Oh, we can’t agree on who they are. Some people call them Big Government, while others call them Big Business. Democrats call them Republicans and Republicans call them Democrats. And all of us call them lobbyists and special interest groups. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what we call them. They’re wicked; and they’re as thick as fleas!

In his frustration, Habakkuk goes to the highest point on the city walls – up on the ramparts – and he issues God a challenge. “Talk to me, God! What’s going on, anyway? Why are things the way they are?” And then, this verse began the scripture reading this morning: “I will look to see what God will say to me, and what answer he will give to my complaint.” (2:1) I wonder if Habakkuk even expected a response! Well, God gave him one. “I have a vision,” God replied, “and what a vision it is! I want you to write it down so that everybody can see it. It’s not here yet, but it will be one of these days, I promise. Just keep looking for it…”

God’s vision. What God sees is very different than what we see! What does God see that we do not? What is God showing us that we’re overlooking? What vision is God talking about?

“God’s Vision” was the theme of this year’s General Synod, the gathering of the whole United Church of Christ that takes place every two years. I was once again a delegate from the Ohio Conference. From the moment that we walked through the door of the convention center in Long Beach, California, we were reminded that God has a vision – a vision not just for the church, but for all humanity. Signs on every wall proclaimed aspects of that vision. It’s a vision of beauty, blessing, and laughter. It’s a vision of compassion, understanding, and embrace. It’s a vision of equality, inclusion, and healing. It’s a vision of forgiveness and mercy and grace.

For six whole days, we celebrated that vision together. Now, we were reminded that we are a long, long way from its fulfillment. But we were also reminded that we can see it around us if we take the time to look for it; and if we ask God for the eyes to see it. I glimpsed it at General Synod more than once.

I caught God’s vision of healing in the rainbow scarves that were carried, mailed, or delivered to General Synod. Let me tell you a little bit about those scarves. Over a year ago, members of the UCC were challenged to knit rainbow scarves to symbolize our solidarity with folks who are bullied. Millions of people, you know, both young and old, are bullied on a daily basis. Maybe they’re not smart enough. Maybe they’re too smart. Maybe they’re gay – or people think that they are. Maybe they just don’t fit in. In solidarity with any and all of these folks, UCC members knit scarves. Our UCC leadership hoped to collect 2 or 3 thousand scarves. Over 10,000 were collected. Each scarf came with a pledge to resist bullying in any and all of its forms. God’s healing is all around us.

I caught a vision of community during our Sunday afternoon worship. That Sunday worship is open not just to delegates and registered visitors, but to anyone who wants to worship with us. This year, over 3,000 worshippers gathered in the convention hall. I sat not in front of the stage where the Ohio Conference sat to do its work, but in the back, feeling just a little bit overwhelmed. Several folks wearing identical tee shirts sat down next to me. The woman who was sitting the closest introduced herself – Janet, from Altadena United Church of Christ in the foothills of Southern California. We struck up a conversation, and discovered that we had a lot in common. Her congregation is like this one: rural, aging, on the smallish side, but with lots of love and big dreams for the future. Before worship was over on that day, we had promised to pray for each other, Janet and I, and for each other’s congregations. So don’t be surprised if a reminder to pray for Altadena UCC appears in our worship bulletin. After all, we are all a part of one loving community as we worship the same God, serve the same Christ, and are empowered by the same Spirit even though we are physically so far apart.

And I caught God’s vision of inclusion as we celebrated the diversity of delegates who gathered in Long Beach, California. We were men, women, gay, straight, and transgendered. We came together from around the country. We – or our ancestors – came from all over the world: Africa, Alaska, Mexico, China, Europe, Japan, Central and South America, and everywhere in between. Many of us were differently abled. Some had mobility issues and used scooters to navigate the convention center. Others needed assistance with sight or hearing. Still others requested our patience as they communicated with what we call speech impediments. All are God’s children, and are precious in God’s sight. All are included at the table, and all are welcome there.

Now, it’s hard to keep God’s vision in our eyes when we live in a world that’s so full of suffering and deception. But if we don’t hang on to God’s vision, we risk becoming cynical and jaded. We risk losing hope – and hope is a big part of God’s vision.

On the evening of the Fourth of July, as I was recovering from my trip and from the three-hour time difference between Ohio and California, I discovered that one of my favorite movies was on TV – The Music Man. For those of you who may not be familiar with the story, The Music Man concerns Professor Harold Hill, a traveling salesman who represents himself as a musician who organizes boys’ bands. In reality, he can’t read a note of music. He intends to collect money for uniforms and band instruments, and then get out of town before anybody catches on to the scam. The climax of the movie comes when he is caught and hauled before a meeting of the townspeople. His goose is cooked. The townspeople are even muttering about tar and feathers. Then Marian the librarian stands up. “Do you remember what this town was like before he came here?” she asks? “And do you realize how much he has changed it?” She has seen what the townspeople have not. They have focused on the fact that he is a crook – and he is. They have focused on the fact that he has no idea at all how to organize and lead a band – and he doesn’t. They have focused on the fact that their hard-earned dollars have gone for uniforms that might never be worn and for instruments that might never be played. And they are absolutely correct!

But Marian has seen something else. She has seen him unite the bickering school board into a barbershop quartet, their bitter quarrels turned into beautiful harmony. She has seen the town youth begin to believe in themselves and in their ability to create something worthwhile, even though they only live in an out-of-the-way place called River City, Iowa. And she has seen her brother change profoundly. From a withdrawn boy grieving his father’s death, so ashamed of his lisp that he will not even speak; he has been transformed into a happy, outgoing young man who looks forward to the future with joy. Oh, yes, her vision is very different than the vision of everyone else in town.

Now, I don’t want to put too much emphasis on a movie. After all, a movie is only meant to entertain us… isn’t it? But it does make me wonder. What does God see that we do not?

Is it possible that joy and laughter and grace are just as real – and just as powerful – as deception and pain and suffering? What would happen if we would focus on God’s gifts of community and inclusion and healing?

The book of Habakkuk ends with this verse (3:19) – “The Sovereign Lord is my strength. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer. He enables me to stand on the heights.” My prayer for all of you, and for all God’s people, whoever they are and wherever they may be, is that we might catch the vision that God offers us. Then we will truly stand on the heights, for we will see with God’s eyes. When we do – and someday we will – on that joyous day, we will see forever!