God for All Seasons

Psalm 90:1-2; Psalm 71:5-6; Revelation 1:8

There are voices we carry with us all of our lives. These are the voices of those who shaped us, making us who we are. They are adults who took interest in us when we were children. They are friends we made when very young who continue to be a part of our lives even now. They are partners with whom we have shared far more of our lives than we lived alone. They are timeless. They will be there for as long as we breathe. 

There is still a collection of people back in North Carolina for whom I will forever be “Robbie.” The fact that no one called me “Robbie” for going on 45 years is irrelevant. To them, I am still “Robbie,” the little boy wiggling in the pew near them who only found solace in being able to draw all over the bulletin. Yet, I do not begrudge them calling me by a name from preschool. They shaped me. They nurtured me. They helped me become the person I am. 

Hopefully, we all have such people in our lives. They are people who embody love for all seasons. They will continue to be a source of strength for years to come, and we know we can count on them when we run into the dips in the road. They will listen. They will still offer counsel. They will assure us we are not alone.

As we look at the walk of Jesus within the world, we see how he fomented such relationships within the circle around him. The most poignant moment came in his last breath. St. John tells us that Jesus called his grief=stricken, horrified mother to seek comfort in the Beloved Disciple, and Jesus told that disciple to take his mother into his home. He bound them together as son and mother (cf. Jn. 19:25b-27). They would be there for each other until their end of days. They would be there through all seasons.

Now, the remarkable thing to realize is that this idea flows directly from the experience of God. God created all that is, but then God did not leave it to run itself. God did not quicken us into being, then send us our way to make it as best we can. No—God chose to relate to creation and us as Father, specifically, the Father whom Jesus described in the great parable of the Prodigals (cf. Lk. 15:11-32). As that Father waited for his younger son to realize the love present at home by wandering far away, so God waits for us. As that Father invited his stubborn older son to come inside, so God is patient with us. As that Father sought nothing more than to offer love, grace, and nurture to his children, so God offers the same gifts of grace to us all through our lives, from our first breath to our last. 

This message is contained in all three of our scripture lessons for this morning. God is with us in every season of our lives. God walks with us through each moment. God enters each circumstance. God guides us through the gaining of maturity and experience as we become adults. God surrounds us with mercy and grace as we establish home and family. God is with us as we empty the nest, sending our children on their own journeys. God is there with grace to usher us through the transition from work to retirement as we seek a new way of identifying who we are and our sense of worth. And God is there as the curtain falls on the drama of life, welcoming us into his everlasting arms at the last. 

We find the evidence for this eternal presence in the remembered voices.

Think about it—those beloved teachers—they were speaking through God. Their wisdom came from God. Their love for us came from God’s own well of tenderness. Their care and protection came from God’s own surrounding grace. Reflect further—the love of our lives—where did he or she come from? God made them, blessed them, and ordained our finding of one another. That is why marriage ceremonies are so important—they visibly remind us of God’s presence in all that led to this solemn, joyous moment. Still further—we sometimes marvel at how we got through our children’s childhoods. It is not that they were difficult, bad, or such; but rather that being a parent is hard, complicated work for which, despite the plethora of how-to counsels out there, we still pretty much blunder through the raising of our children. Yet, for the most part, it turns out all right. That was God’s grace, strength, and mercy. And so it goes through all the transitions, transformations, and trepidations of life. God meets us in each encounter through the voices of peers, elders, friends, loved ones, and all the other voices making up our own personal communion of saints. 

There has been a recent ad campaign that completely befuddles a technologically challenged human being like myself—the company offers a “personal cloud”—a private means by which to save all our digital memories without worrying about who else has access or power to erase the record of our lives. I can barely manage the computer memory I have, let alone entrusting anything to a mythical “cloud” that may or may not actually exist. However, here is a perfect analogy for the presence of God through others—God surrounds us with witnesses—those also touched by God who share that touch with us. Scripture calls them a cloud—

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

—Heb. 12:1,2

Yes, let us run the race set before us. God runs with us. God even lifts us up when we get tired. God carries us forward and onward until we can meet God face to face. Remember the voices that tell us it is so. 

Then realize one las thing—you are a voice for another, maybe a child in this very room. Let them know what you know. Let them see what you see. Let them hear what you hear. Show them the God for all seasons in your own presence with them. Share the gift of love God shares with us all.