Presence

Thomas Torrance likes to repeat a simple story of what he calls “the unconditional nature of grace.” He writes, “Our grasping of Christ by faith is itself enclosed within the mighty grasp of Christ.” Then he shares this story and quote:

I sometimes recall what happened when my daughter was learning to walk. I took her by the hand to help her, and I can still feel her fingers clutching my hand. She was not relying on her feeble grasp of my hand, but on my strong grasp of her hand.

Is that not how we are to understand the faith by which we lay hold of Christ as our Savior? It is thus that our grasp of faith, feeble though it is, is grasped and enfolded in the mighty grasp of Christ who identifies himself with us, and puts himself in our place.

Henry Drummond wrote:

Ascension … what if it didn't happen? Suppose Jesus had not gone away. Suppose he were here on earth NOW. Suppose he were still in the Holy Land--Jerusalem.

Every ship that started for the East would be crowded with Christian pilgrims. Every train flying through Europe would be thronged with people going to see Jesus.

Supposing YOU are in one of those ships. The port when you arrive after the long voyage is blocked with vessels of every flag. With much difficulty you land and join one of the long trains starting for Jerusalem. As far as the eye can reach the caravans move over the desert in an endless stream. As you approach the Holy City you see a dark mass stretching for (miles and miles) between you and its glittering spires. You've come to see Jesus, but you will NEVER see him.

Imagine at the end of your life you're welcomed into the presence of Jesus, who has saved you by his grace. In the midst of all the wonderful things we will experience, we're ushered into our own "media room." As you enter your personal media room, you're told that you get to sit on a cozy couch with comfortable pillows, eating as much popcorn and candy as you want (without the calories, of course) and that you're going to watch a video of your life. The video is a compilation of all the moments in your life when you were fully present, all the moments when you weren't numbed-out or distracted by media technology—TV, the Internet, cell phones—all the moments when you were totally engaged with others or fully attentive to God.

Now imagine this video playing in your personal media room and ask yourself these questions: How long is your video? How many scenes will depict you relishing life to the fullest, not numb or distracted, fully enjoying and loving the people around you? And as you think about your life's video, how many scenes will show you completely ready to hear what Jesus is trying to say to you?

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Relationships; Children; Marriage; Friendship—Are we fully present to the important people in our life? (2) Prayer; Meditation; Spiritual Disciplines—Do we take time to be fully present to God? (3) Lent; Advent—Certain times of the Church Year, such as Advent and Lent, are designed to help us pay attention and be present to God.

In the [distracted] digital age, it may be the case that the classical debates about the presence of Jesus Christ in the [Lord's Supper] have been inverted. The question with which we may have to wrestle is not "In what way is the Lord present in the Supper?" Instead, the question is "In what way are we present?"

After graduating from college, Bethany W. started a year-long volunteer program with Emmaus Ministries, a Chicago-based outreach to young men involved in prostitution. Many of the young men come from profoundly broken homes and become lost in a lifestyle of drugs, sex, and violence. According to Emmaus' website, the volunteers "build relationships of trust with these men" so they can "help them get off the streets and cultivate a life-transforming relationship with Jesus Christ." During her one-year program at Emmaus, Bethany often doubted if she was making a difference for Christ. But then she had the following experience with a young man named Devan:

Another staff member and I went to court with Devan in a neighboring city where he had been arrested for shoplifting a year ago. He stood to face several more years in prison, since this was a repeated offense. Since his arrest, however, through Christ's love he has made tremendous strides. He has gotten clean from alcohol, joined a halfway house, and become disciplined about finding jobs and improving his life.

After both lawyers presented their arguments, the judge turned to Devan and started asking him a barrage of questions: "How will you keep this from happening again? What is your support network?" And finally she pointedly asked, "And by the way, how were you transported to this court room?"

He slowly turned around and looked back at me and the other staff worker, the only other people in the courtroom, and said, "These two workers from Emmaus Ministries brought me here." In the end, the judge gave Devan probation, as long as he continues making progress on his goals. Although Devan has initiated positive changes in his life, I also can't help but wonder the way God has worked in his life through our consistent presence, truth and love.

Stillness is always a prerequisite for receptivity. Telephones and television sets cannot receive messages when they are too filled with static and noise. Stillness first, then listening. The order cannot be reversed. "Be still, and know that I am God," quotes the psalmist.

One of the most powerful expressions of this is found in Psalm 131:

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up,
my eyes are not raised too high ….
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.

An unweaned child is a noisy child. The unweaned child has learned that eventually noise leads to the satisfaction of its desires. Even if it doesn't, the noise itself appears to bring some relief. Or at least it makes others as miserable as the unweaned one.

The weaned child, however, has learned that the presence of the mother is about more than the immediate gratification of desire. The weaned child has become capable of stillness. The weaned child can have a whole new form of communication with the mother. The weaned child has entered into a whole new relationship with its mother. Now the mother is more than simply one who exists to satisfy need, to take away hunger. The mother can become a person, not just a need-meeter.

There is a catch, of course. Weaning is not a popular process. At least, not for the [one being weaned]. Children rarely volunteer for it because it is both costly and painful. Weaning means learning to live in stillness with unfulfilled desires. It is the mark of maturity.

The psalmist says this is a picture of my soul. I have learned to still my heart. There has been a spiritual weaning process so that I am no longer at the mercy of my desires and reflexes and demands. God is becoming more than just the Meeter of My Needs. I am entering into a new era listening. I have stilled my soul.

An article in the Chicago Tribune told the story of Bettye Tucker, a Christian cook who works the night shift at Children's Memorial Hospital in Chicago, Illinois. She has been doing her job for 43 years—28 of them on the night shift. She sees a steady stream of parents in her job, many of them frightened and weary. On one particular night around the time the article was written, Miss Bettye (as she is referred to by all who know her) served food to a mother whose three-year-old fell out of a second story window that morning, another mother whose seventeen-year-old was battling a rare form of leukemia, and a third mother whose eighteen-year-old had endured seven hours of brain surgery. Their stories break the heart of Miss Bettye, and—as one coworker interviewed for the article says—"that's why she feeds every last one of them as if they had walked right into the 'too-small' kitchen of [the] South Side brick bungalow [where she lives]." A member of the hospital's housekeeping crew adds this about Miss Bettye: "You need someone to bring you life, and she brings it in the middle of the night."

A picture of Miss Bettye that accompanied the article shows a woman with a beautiful smile. It's hard to imagine how much that smile would mean to a suffering parent or child. She says, "When I ask, 'How you doin' today?' and they say it's not a good day, I say, 'Don't lose hope.' When the nurses tell me it's a bad night, I say, 'I understand it's a bad night. But guess what? I am here for you. I'm going to get you through the night.'"

Another picture shows Bettye sitting down, head bowed, over a meal. "I'm a praying lady," she says in the article. "I pray every night, for every room and every person in the hospital. I start with the basement, and I go up, floor by floor, room by room. I pray for the children, I pray for the families, I pray for the nurses and the doctors. … I say, every night while I'm driving in on the expressway, 'Oh, Lord, I don't know what I'll face tonight, but I pray you'll guide me through.'"

The reporter behind the article, Barbara Mahany, offers these words about Miss Bettye: "Just might be, that divine helping on the side is the most essential item on Miss Bettye's menu. The one she stirs in every broth, and every whisper. The ingredient that makes her the perpetual light shining in the all-night kitchen."