January 19, 2020: Little Ol' We
January 19, 2020 Rev. Rhonda Blevins, DMIN
Little Ol’ We
Isaiah 49:1-7
Listen to me, O coastlands,
pay attention, you peoples from far away!
The Lord called me before I was born,
while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.
He made my mouth like a sharp sword,
in the shadow of his hand he hid me;
he made me a polished arrow,
in his quiver he hid me away.
And he said to me, “You are my servant,
Israel, in whom I will be glorified.”
But I said, “I have labored in vain,
I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity;
yet surely my cause is with the Lord,
and my reward with my God.”
And now the Lord says,
who formed me in the womb to be his servant,
to bring Jacob back to him,
and that Israel might be gathered to him,
for I am honored in the sight of the Lord,
and my God has become my strength—
he says,
“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
Thus says the Lord,
the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One,
to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations,
the slave of rulers,
“Kings shall see and stand up,
princes, and they shall prostrate themselves,
because of the Lord, who is faithful,
the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.”
____
I’ve got a six-year-old at home. Where does the time go? Just yesterday, it seems, he was a baby in my arms, cooing and wiggling, his greatest accomplishment was rolling from his back to his belly and back again. And now he’s in Kindergarten, tying his own shoes, showing his unique personality, playing baseball for crying out loud. One of the arguments that manifests between my six-year-old and his twelve-year-old brother is whether or not he’s a “big boy.” My eldest will taunt him and call him a baby, inciting rage, “I’m a big boy!” the six-year-old will insist. But then when his mother (me) asks him to do a chore and he resists, I’ll use the “big boy” language as leverage, “Be a ‘big boy’ and get the mail please.” Suddenly, he’s not a “big boy” anymore. “But I’m not a ‘big boy,’ I’m a little boy,” he’ll insist.
And so it goes.
At what point in our human development do we begin to fully see ourselves as “big boys” and “big girls?” And does the “little boy” or “little girl” ever really leave?
Popular psychology suggests “no,” that each of us has an inner child, a concept originating with Carl Jung and explored more fully by contemporary psychologists. “Reparenting” our inner child is one form of psychotherapy—working through unresolved childhood trauma that impacts each of us at a sub-conscious level throughout our lives. Just curious, “How does that make you feel?” J
Let me pause here just to say that there is no shame in seeing a psychologist or therapist. I’m a believer that most anyone could benefit from therapy, as I have benefitted on more than one occasion from seeing a skilled practitioner at difficult times or transition points in my life. The fact of the matter is we can all grow, and therapy is one way to seek growth. Ok, that was for free.
Back to the inner child.
Whether you think the “inner child” idea is a bunch of hooey or not, here’s my experience: when I find someone very difficult to love (you probably never have that experience), when I encounter someone who’s hard to get along with, I try to imagine him or her as a child, a little boy or a little girl, vulnerable and tender and in need of love. This helps me find my place of compassion for them. I imagine that whatever trauma they experienced as a child is contributing to the making of the jerk that’s cutting me off in traffic.
Are you wondering what all this has to do with Isaiah 49, the passage I read earlier? Here it is . . .
We see the prophet Isaiah’s inner child in this passage, and God calling the prophet to stop seeing himself as a “little” boy. Here’s how I come to that interpretation . . .
The prophet refences himself as a fetus. “The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me . . . in his quiver he hid me away.” That’s our first hint that he sees himself as pretty small at this moment in time. The second hint we get that he’s feeling pretty small isn’t a hint at all—it’s overt: “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” The word in the Hebrew is תֹּהו הֶבֶל (transliteration: tohu hebel). Chaos and vapor. “I have spent my strength, my ability my power for what? Chaos and vapor.”
Is Isaiah having a mid-life crisis? Time to get a sports car, Isaiah? He’s reflecting over his life and his vocation as a prophet and he’s wondering if it’s all been in vain. Tohu hebel. Nothing and vanity. Chaos and vapor.
Isaiah is feeling small.
Have you ever felt small? No? Just me? Maybe you’ve had your own mid-life crisis, wondering if what you’ve accomplished is enough. Or maybe (like John Mayer) you’ve had a “quarter-life crisis.” When we look around and compare ourselves with others and what they’ve accomplished, maybe we see the beautiful family they’ve built or the house they live in or the cars they drive or the resume they sport, we can begin to feel really small because the fact of the matter is there’s always going to be someone richer, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone more successful. Comparing ourselves to others is a death-sentence for our sense of self-worth. Don’t do it. (Ok, that was for free, too.)
Maybe that wasn’t the problem for Isaiah. Maybe his mid-life crisis was more existential. Maybe he felt that God had big plans for him, and that all of his efforts hadn’t lived up to expectations, either God’s or, more likely, his own. Tohu hebel. Nothing and vanity. Chaos and vapor.
But then God speaks into Isaiah’s tohu hebel. God speaks into Isaiah’s nothingness and vanity. God speaks into Isaiah’s chaos, and into his vapor. “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” In other words, God says to Isaiah, “Dude, your vision is too small. It’s too little. I’ve got BIG plans for you. Like, GLOBAL plans for you.” (My paraphrase, in case you were wondering).
That’s what God said to Isaiah in the midst of his smallness—in the midst of his tohu hebel—his chaos and vapor. But I think I hear God whispering the same words to us as well. “Dude, your vision is too small. It’s too little. I’ve got BIG plans for you.” In other words: God. Is. Not. Done. With. You. Yet.
Maybe you’re facing your twilight years, or even middle age, and you’re wondering if your best years are behind you. God. Is. Not. Done. With. You. Yet. Or maybe you’re on the younger end of the scale, wondering what in the world you’re supposed to do with your life. God. Is. Not. Done. With. You. Yet.
In the life of faith, there’s action and contemplation, there’s doing and being, and the spectrum in between. On the contemplative side of faith, one of the simplest, most powerful truths ever written is this word of instruction by medieval mystic, Meister Eckhart: “If the only prayer you ever pray is ‘thank you,’ that will be enough.” Piggybacking off this powerful line in thinking about the life of action I offer this: “If the only deed you ever do is love, that will be enough.” If you’re still alive: God. Is. Not. Done. With. You. Yet. Apparently, you have more loving yet to do.
And so do we.
This year we begin our 71st year together as a faith community. While thousands of churches in America close every year, Chapel by the Sea keeps on keeping on with our message of God’s hope, peace, joy and love. And there’s no sign of slowing down any time soon, but all kinds of signs point to our ability to share the message with more people than ever before. But it’s going to require us to change the way we think. We can almost hear God saying to us through the prophet, “Church, your vision is too small. It’s too little. I’ve got BIG plans for you. Like, GLOBAL plans for you.”
Global plans? What?!?
Think about it. Every Sunday, we live stream our services, and then upload them on YouTube, and put them out there for the world to see. Did you realize we’ve had over 1,800 views over the past six months? We started putting sermons out in podcast form back in August, with over 500 hits mostly from within the United States, a handful from Canada (eh?), and a couple of listens from Singapore!
“Church, your vision is too small. It’s too little. I’ve got BIG plans for you. Like, GLOBAL plans for you.”
In April, world-renown progressive theologian, Dr. Diana Butler Bass, will be holding a retreat for clergy women and other women in spiritual leadership right here in our church. We get to offer Christian hospitality to women in need of respite from the demands of leadership and ministry from all over North America, at our little Chapel by the Sea. But that’s the last time you’ll ever hear me reference us as “little” Chapel by the Sea. Here’s why. Our church campus may not be huge, our attendance is far from mega-church status. But our God is BIG, and our message, our reach, our impact should follow suit.
We’ve got to stop thinking of ourselves as “Little Ol’ We,” because I believe I hear God whispering to us from across the centuries: “Church, your vision is too small. It’s too little. I’ve got BIG plans for you. Like, GLOBAL plans for you.”
I wonder, if our first 70 years we established a strong, healthy local presence here on Clearwater Beach, what does our next 70 years hold for us with our growing capacity to spread God’s love globally?
God. Is. Not. Done. With. Us. Yet. Apparently, we have more loving yet to do. And while I believe God has big plans for us, there is only one thing to remember: “If the only deed we ever do is love, that will be enough.”