“Beyond Expectations”

Guilt. Shame. Fear.  States of mind that can block our awareness of the presence of God.

And Jacob, likely, had all of them. Guilt. Shame. Fear.

He has just stolen his brother’s birthright and been sent away from home for the first time in his life, to a foreign land, over 500 miles away, on foot, alone.  No protection from insects or wild beasts or thieves.  No assurance of food or water. No companion for conversation or comfort.

As the sun sets, Jacob is left alone with his own thoughts… perhaps with some regret about what he did, perhaps with some fear and uncertainty about the future before him. To rest his head, all he has is a stone for a pillow.

Might he be missing his mother? Or worried about what kind of wife he would find? 

Nothing in his life is settled.  Nothing in his life is secure.  He is betwixt and between,  in a vulnerable situation. 

Jacob’s vulnerability is not unlike the vulnerability we sometimes experience in life.

Think of the recent college grad, leaving the cocoon of campus for a new city, without any friends waiting to greet him.

Consider the vulnerability of the older adult, running out of money, who doesn’t know where she can afford to live. 

Imagine the vulnerability of the immigrant, fleeing the risk of violence at home, hoping that in a foreign place, a distant relative might welcome him.

Jacob’s vulnerable state is not alien to us.  It can be difficult to trust God’s grace and presence when we are in a precarious position. 

Plus, Jacob likely had to contend with guilt and shame over what he had done, states of mind that can create a sense of distance from God. 

Even when we have not done anything wrong, like Jacob, our way of life in 2026 can also create a sense of distance from God. Our minds are all too often hijacked by distractions and our hearts can be shut down by busyness and overwhelm.

Herein lies the good news! If God will show up for a deceiver like Jacob, who likely believed that his God’s presence was confined to his land and his people, surely God shows up for us in ways beyond our expectations, too.  Could it be that we are simply missing it? 

The poet, Denise Levertov writes:

Lord, not you, it is I who am absent…

I have long since uttered your name

but now I elude your presence.

I stop to think about you, and my mind

at once like a minnow darts away,

darts into the shadows, into gleams that fret

unceasing over the river’s purling and passing.

Not for one second

will my self hold still, but wanders

anywhere,

everywhere it can turn. 

Not you,

it is I who am absent.

You are the stream, the fish, the light,

the pulsing shadow,

you the unchanging presence, in whom all

moves and changes.

How can I focus my flickering, perceive

at the fountain’s heart

the sapphire I know is there?

When we are feeling vulnerable, perhaps overcome by fear, guilt or shame,      or   our minds are distracted and our hearts are shut down, how might we be able to perceive the unchanging presence of God?

Today’s reading gives us some hints.

Sometimes we are more likely to perceive God when, like Jacob,  we choose to leave the everyday behind.   When we depart home and take a road we’ve never taken before; when we go to a place we’ve never traveled before;  when we open ourselves to new experiences, to new sights…  When we anticipate the good we will discover, we are often more apt to become aware of God’s presence. 

Sometimes our dreams help us perceive God’s presence. Have you ever noticed how certain motifs keep repeating in your dreams? Or how sometimes our dreams shock or startle us? Could it be that God is trying to get your attention? You might write down your dreams, join a dream group, or get curious about this non-linear state of consciousness. 

Sometimes we might discover God’s presence through other religious traditions.  How fascinating that Jacob dreams of a symbol of Mesopotamian worship, a ziggurat, foreign to his culture.  Yet this was a consoling image for Jacob. He took comfort in dreaming of the angels of God ascending  and descending a ziggurat.  He saw in another tradition a symbol that links earth and heaven. As many in this community know from experience, exposure to symbols, stories, and practices of other religious traditions have the potential to spark a fresh awareness of Divine presence. Barbara Brown Taylor’s “Holy Envy” offers  a compelling journey into the way religious traditions not our own can expand our spirituality.

Sometimes we are more likely to sense God’s presence just as we are waking up.  It seems that our consciousness is more attuned to the Spirit in that liminal state between dreaming and waking. This is one reason we might start our day    not with our devices, but with attunement to our own consciousness.

But, even when our minds are hijacked and our hearts are shut down, our spirits can also be renewed when we think back on those unexpected times and in unexpected places along our life journeys that we have become aware of God’s presence, and then share our stories with others. 

I’m going to tell you a story about experiencing God’s presence in an unexpected way and then invite you to reflect on and share one of your stories with someone sitting nearby or on Zoom.  

Early in 2019, one of my mentors, Rev. Diane Berke, told me about an Episcopal priest she had met on retreat, Rev. Steve Blackmer.  “Sue,” she said, “I think you should meet him. He’s leading something called Church in the Woods in New Hampshire.  What he’s doing is right up your alley.”

Later that fall, I made the trek to Canterbury, New Hampshire to attend worship at Church in the Woods – a church, without a building, that meets (as the name suggests) in the woods. There were about 15-20 of us gathered in a clearing, a ¼ of a mile from the parking lot.  Rev. Steve began the liturgy as you might expect any Episcopal service to begin. Then, after we chanted the psalm, he sent us out on the trails for 15 minutes of silent contemplation.  We were invited to practice Earth Lectio Divina, to find a natural object that attracted our curiosity, enter into conversation with it,  and then place it on the altar. 

After each of us spoke about about our natural objects, Steve began the Liturgy of Communion.  By that point in my life, I had probably experienced communion thousands of times. What I didn’t expect, was how deeply I would feel what I named in that moment as “the presence of The Presence.”  I sensed a fullness of the sacramental presence in a way I never had before. It was as if earth and heaven were one. 

Please reflect for two minutes in  silence: when did you have an experience of the presence of God that you did not expect? What made it so surprising?  

Now, you are invited to share your story and listen to a story with someone sitting nearby or on Zoom. You each will have 3 minutes.