Author: churchgoodshepherd823

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, June 2, 2024, at 8:00 and 10 a.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher

The Hidden God

“Lord, you have searched me out and known me; * you know my sitting down and my rising up.” (Psalm 139:1)

“God hasn’t left our side.” (II Cor. 4:5-12)

This morning, I want to present my meditation in the form of a question. This is something that I believe most of us have asked at one time or another. And I will suggest four different answers. Each of these answers I believe to be partially true. The result will hopefully be that we are a bit clearer to the truth—either that or a bit more confused, which is always a risk when we talk about God at all.

So, the question is this: Why does God remain in large part hidden? The Psalmist pleads: “God, make known your purpose to me!” In brief, why doesn’t God show his or her or its face more clearly, or more often?

Answer #1

God’s face stays hidden because its face is too magnificent for us mere mortals to behold. Beyond the moon, beyond the stars, beyond our ability to understand or take in.

God is ineffable by definition, beyond our concepts altogether. And this incomprehensibility goes even deeper than this. God’s hugeness and mystery are such that, should it reveal itself fully, we question is that even possible. The mysterium tremendum, the holy, whose hand stretches across the universe and, in fact, upholds it—the light from this source is too bright. I have heard of black holes, but even after watching a documentary, I haven’t a very clear idea about them. God says to Moses in the Book of Exodus: “I will not let you see my face, because no one can see me and stay alive. When the dazzling light of my presence passes by, you will see my back, but not my face” (Exodus 33:20-23). And in Deuteronomy: “Tell them how the Lord spoke to you from the fire, how you heard him speaking but did not see him in any form at all.” (Deuteronomy 4:11).

While there are passages, to confuse the fundamentalist, that indicate that God did, in fact, vouchsafe to appear to Moses, Jacob, Aaron, a couple of others—and in another place to the seventy elders—the meaning here, I believe, is that God reveals himself primarily through the words that he conveys and through the salvation events, words, events, prophets as intermediaries. They bring God’s word, not God himself. [pause]

Again, Why does God hide his face?

Answer #2

God hides his face as a direct consequence of our disobedience. Again, from Deuteronomy: “I will become angry with them. (Deuteronomy 31:17).

Moral imperfection separates us from the presence of God. Hence, the furious answer of God to Job from the whirlwind. God pulls out all the stops of his transcendence and righteousness when Job dares question how a righteous God can allow evil and suffering in the world.

“Were you there,” asks God, “when I made the world? If you know so much, tell me about it. Do you know all the answers” (Job 38:4-5)? In other words, “Shut up, you fool!”

There is, it seems to me, profound psychological insight in this second answer as to why God hides himself, why she does not make herself plain. Anger, self-pity, pride, ego—they all keep us from seeing clearly: they separate us from clearly seeing either ourselves or the situations in which we wallow—and hence, we separate ourselves, or are separated, from the truth. Aberrant moral behavior places a barrier between us and reality, and hence God. John says that whoever says, “I love God” and hates his neighbor is a liar. John was a crackerjack psychologist.

Isn’t it the case that our stubbornness in a relationship prevents us from seeing clearly, seeing, for instance, just how much love our spouse has for us, except for his or her own fear and defensiveness?

So, God hides himself from us because of the veil between his righteousness and our unrighteousness. Purity of heart: blessed are those with it, for they shall see God!

Again: Why, though, does God choose to remain so hidden and aloof?

Answer #3:

Perhaps we need to peel away some skin of this onion and ask what is the nature of this God whom we believe to be not revealing itself. As Christians, we believe that the person of Jesus showed the face or heart of God as never before. The opening of the gospel of John says, “No one has ever seen God. The only son, who is the same as God and is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (John 1:18).

You know, we can say we believe all we want that God does reveal himself; but until these things make a difference in our lives, until they stir our hearts to say “Ah, ha!” they are so much gobbledygook. Perhaps, and I personally am most intrigued by this possibility, our God keeps in the shadows, keeps a low profile, and doesn’t intrude himself in our lives he loves us just that much. God’s hiddenness is a function of the very depth of his love. He gives us freedom; he respects our freedom. He wants us to love him freely, as he loves us freely. Only a God who truly loves us lets us say no to his amorous overtures.

Only parents know that frightening moment when they must let go of parental protection and show their ultimate love by letting their bird fly free. Parents don’t go with their children to college. Love lets go and allows its space to the beloved. God’s absence—in part anyway, I believe—is proof of that in our lives.

I heard a riddle the other day that I think speaks to this cat and mouse of God with his people. If God were to play hide ‘n’ seek with the world, where do you think God would hide? Any ideas? YES: he would hide everywhere!

So, all right. We’ve gotten this far. But many of us are hard to persuade. Skepticism is built into us. Will God make good his purpose for me? God doesn’t show his face; but surely I can get inkling, some hint, some love letter with my name on it! Why is God so hidden from me?

Answer #4:

The fourth and final answer I suggest this morning is perhaps the most radical of all. Suppose, just suppose, that God does not hide himself in the way that really matters to us—that is, that his presence is not remote and hidden due to his transcendence, moral superiority, or diffidence—but that we have simply not opened our eyes and seen the God who has been there all along. It is our idea of God that suffers. Is this not possibly in part why Jesus instructs his disciples not to spread the news that he is the Messiah because the generally understood idea of the Messiah is not the idea that Jesus was aiming to convey. He didn’t want folk to get the wrong idea!

Isn’t it true that the most important insights that have received in our lives are about things that have been staring us in the face all along, perhaps for years? Suddenly, something happens, and we see a situation in a new light. The scales fall away. The penny drops.

We know, or think we know, this much. God is not an old man with a beard inhabiting a space far away. So then, who is God? What is God? I cannot say for you. Only you can discover this and say it for you. But surely this God is not so much about something else as about a way of seeing what is already before us. God is that which wakes us up, turns on the light, overcomes our death. As a friend said to me recently, God will show itself if we insist on it. Not so much, “Show yourself, darn it!” More like “Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” And, as the Zen master wrote, perhaps the door has been open all along and we just didn’t notice!

And the revelations are usually so innocent, so simple. God, it is likely to turn out, when the haze lifts and our spiritual cobwebs are swept away, to be a lot closer than we have ever guessed.

But there is the imperative to get with it. Sleepers, wake up! The command is to let this God in, the God who is with us to love us, to bring us peace and delight. And perhaps if someone scoffs and says, “No one has ever seen God,” we can reply, “They will have after they’ve seen our lives, how we love one another!”

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, April 7, 2024, at 10:00 a.m.

Look at What I’ve/We’ve Been Missing!

“We have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ’s body.” (Collect, Easter II)

“How wonderful, how beautiful when brothers and sisters get along!” (Psalm 133:1)

“The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us. This is the message: God is light, pure light; there’s not a trace of darkness in him.” (I John 1:2, 5)

Last Sunday you may recall that I led us in a variation on the opening Easter acclamation. We started with “Alleluia! Christ is risen,” and you replied, “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.”

But I wanted to get to the heart of things by having us add, first, “Alleluia! We are risen!” and you replied, “We are risen indeed. Alleluia!’ And third and finally, “Alleluia, I am risen.” And then you replied, “I am risen indeed. Alleluia.”

So, may we repeat this beautiful trilogy of ecstasies?

1. “Alleluia. Christ is risen…”

“The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.”

2. “Alleluia. We are risen…”

“We are risen indeed. Alleluia.”

3. “Alleluia. I am risen…”

“I am risen indeed. Alleluia.”

This is the heart and core of this Easter season and really all we need to proclaim.

Christ is risen, and this means we are risen, and I personally am risen.

And the title of my meditation this morning is “Look what I’ve been missing.”

Because every moment of our lives is compromised, made smaller, less joyful if we dismiss this notion or keep it on the back burner of our lives. It’s not that we must go through our days reciting this acclamation to ourselves. We’d probably be hospitalized or thought balmy if we did this. It’s that every moment of our day, every move we make, can be lived and informed knowing that life is good, life is beautiful and is meant to be affirmed always. Just like breathing, we don’t have to keep it at the top of our minds, but we’d better not forget it. Without breath we have no life!

But it is so easy to forget this affirmation.

Isn’t it a puzzle how so much of our lives is spent in sadness, stress, and suffering? Let’s look at just a few of the ways we drain the joy out of living.

Don’t we too often get wrapped up in the minutiae of our day-to-day routines and take everything so seriously. It can be a challenge. This is the tax time of the year, and I, for one, have no accounting abilities and dread putting all the figures together. So, I hired an accountant. My friends tell me to use TurboTax, but no thank you, no thank you!

And what about all those annoyances with other people that create resentments? Boy, can we spend a lot of time fuming and fighting in our minds about what so-and-so has done to us. Poor us, poor put-upon us! Yes, I can carry grudges. I wonder how many annoyances like this can be avoided by slowing down and asking how serious are they? Do we really want to make Federal cases over something, that time, a kind word, or simply forgetting about it will not fix? People can kill each other over what sometimes starts as a minor grievance. Wars start over things that one side finds “unacceptable.”

“This is so beyond the limits of what I can stand that I’m going to start an all-out war with you!” Is this stupid and sick? Yes, but aren’t most wars a little like this?

And, last example, how much of our day, our week, our years are spent in worry. Of course, as citizens we are concerned about a lot of things. We cast our votes in hopes that our representatives will carry out our wishes for our city, state and country. But if we keep CNN or MSNBC on a lot, we’ll wind up in a constant and high state of complaining and worrying. This can’t be good for our health. For how much of what we worry about do we have any power over? A lot, some, a little, none?

So, I’ve laid out a few of the activities that prevent us from breathing free, laughing out loud and enjoying this brief journey called life.

Do we forget what we are missing? 

Life is short. As someone in his eighth decade of life, I not only realize how short this life is, but I realize how many minutes and hours I can fritter away in useless activities like resentments and worry. My mother once told me that I would go in the bathroom one morning, look in the mirror and exclaim, “My goodness, I’m old!”

I can imagine that some of you have had such a startling insight. It is not designed to get us down, but to awaken us to the preciousness of every day we breathe on this earth. In the grander scheme of things, our life is as short as that of a firefly.

The tragedy of wasted time in resentments and worry is how we diminish the time we could be loving. This isn’t sentimental hogwash; it is to point out and recognize just how profoundly we all need and want to be loved. I love being loved, don’t you? And the first person who needs to love me is me! And if I am deficient in loving myself, the chances of my loving you are similarly diminished. And if you have the same need to be loved as I do, then what am I waiting for? The clock is ticking and love is a-waiting! Let’s get on with it.

Isn’t this what the Resurrection is proclaiming? That love overcomes strife; that life outstrips bitterness and complaining. That except for our ignorance and belligerence, love would be much more conspicuous all around us.

How much we love being loved. So, we might as well keep it up. No one is telling us not to!

And notice how far honesty can go. Have you noticed how much love can flourish when we are honest with one another? We don’t lose out on anything by being honest. Notice that it tends to move us forward. We go to the doctor, tell our friends what is really on our minds. Life flows. It may be painful; it may be difficult, but life flows when honesty flows.

I heard the other day that we have one of two possible responses to life at any moment. Yes! or No! Yes is the Resurrection. It was how Christ faced his own death. It is how we live when we shout yes. It is not always easy; it is not always without its cost. But it is the way of life, and finally of joy. Am I not right?

What do you think? We shout “YES” because we have been yes-ed into existence and our God shouts yes at us, whether we are up or down. This is the unconditional love that lies at the heart of our faith.

I close with a lovely poem called “Millennium Blessing” by Stephen Levine. It speaks to the joy that it is present now and that stretches beyond our mortal life. All we need to do is shout “YES” to all of it!

There is a grace approaching

that we shun as much as death,

it is the completion of our birth.

It does not come in time,

…….but in timelessness

when the mind sinks into the heart

and we remember.

It is insistent grace that draws us

to the edge and beckons us surrender

safe territory and enter our enormity.

We know we must pass

…….beyond knowing

and fear the shedding.

But we are pulled upward

…….none-the-less

through forgotten ghosts

…….and unexpected angels,

luminous.

And there is nothing left to say

but we are That.

And that is what we sing about.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, March 31, 2024, at 10:00 a.m.

Christ Is Risen!We Are Risen!

“Thank God, because he’s good, because his love never quits. Tell the world, Israel, {no, tell the world, you in Fort Lee!] God’s love never quits.” (Instruction from verse 1 in Psalm 118, Message Translation)

“…that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection.” (Collect, Easter Sunday)

We have just sung my favorite Easter hymn, and I’m so glad we placed it at the opening of this glorious service this morning. “Jesus Christ is risen today!” It says it all, doesn’t it, in one concise phrase? And do you recall the acclamation that is common at this time of the year? I announce, “Alleluia! Christ is risen.” And you reply, “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” Isn’t that powerful? But my theme this morning goes even further to the core of the thing. We can also proclaim, can’t we: I can say, “Alleluia! we are risen!” and you can reply, “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!”

Now if we are a bit uncomfortable making such a claim, I want to break us in a bit. I am going to say, “Alleluia! we are risen.” And then we will please reply, “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!” Are you ready? Here goes. “Alleluia! We are risen indeed!” [And the reply comes: “We are risen indeed! Alleluia!”] I might have even preferred for us to say, “I am risen indeed,” instead of “We are risen indeed.” For both are true. We and I are/am risen indeed.

I hope you might be a little startled, even uneasy making such a claim. But if this Easter event does not invade and inform our own personal lives, then I wonder if it doesn’t remain some distant, even half-forgotten and more often ignored event, an event that we bring out once a year and salute like we do the flag on the Fourth of July.

And I wonder how many sermons throughout the world this season talk about the event of Jesus’s resurrection as an event of the long-ago past—when?—in the year 33 anno domini, A.D. They now call A.D. dates CE, meaning “common era.” I’m scrambling to keep up with what is called what these days. However we date it, Jesus’s resurrection is said to have occurred many, many years ago. That date certainly ushered in the Christian era, followed by four beautiful accounts of Jesus’s life and some spectacular letters, particularly from a man named Saul, renamed Paul after his conversion. All of this we can study and learn on our own or in Bible study classes.

But how does what happened back then intersect with our lives? What, in other words, does the Resurrection mean to you? Is it something you carry in your heart? Does it guide and motivate your day? I’m afraid, if we are honest and if I am honest, that this central event of the Christian story may be tucked away on a dusty shelf of our lives and referred to only occasionally, at this time of the year or on the occasion of the death of a loved one.

I want to make two points that might aid in to bring this idea more front and center for us. First, the Resurrection, whatever it means, is not primarily about something that might or will occur after our death. After all, the hymn says, “Jesus Christ is risen today!” Present tense. This is not just commemoration. It is speaking of what is true right here, right now, in our faces. And the second point is that this Resurrection does not just include Jesus, but us as well. The Resurrection is about us, here and now. The Eucharist meal celebrates our life in Christ, as a perpetual, eternal thing bearing down in and through every single moment of our lives, the happy one and the sad ones.

In the slap dab middle of our Communion Prayer we proclaim, “Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.” Well, I hope we occasionally ask what this is all about. It is about something happening now. I translate it: “Christ died and shows us that he continues to die. He dies with us as we die. He dies with the children of Gaza as they die. He dies with all those who are forlorn and heavy laden.” Christ himself is with us. And then we say, “Christ is risen.” We do not say, “Christ was risen.” The proclamation is in the present tense. We see in our faith hallelujahs written across history, in our current events, in every single life lived now, whether nominally Christian or not. Christ did not just come for the Jews and Christians. His message is either universal or it is sentimental twaddle. And the third rung of this proclamation: “Christ will come again.” Do you read this as an apocalyptic prediction that Jesus will come back, riding on something or other at the end of time? Good for you if you believe that. I think a lot of our fellow Christians are a long way from thinking like this. “Christ will come again” means to me that Christ is not just in my present but in my future. I can face tomorrow knowing that God is with me. This is what my faith and hope are about. A love that will not let me go.

Now this intersection of the Resurrection in our lives, which simultaneously includes not just the Christ but every single one of us, is something I dare to believe isn’t so foreign to us. In fact, in our heart of hearts we know it, not in the sense of book knowledge but in the sense in which a good friend “knows” his friend.

I’ll close and suggest that each of us reflect on one or two occasions in our lives when the door opens onto what Resurrection is about. Like the rolling away of the rock from the tomb. I had a small but beautiful incident the other day when I was in Richmond for the funeral of the brother of a friend. The family and I were eating dinner, and I just casually asked the daughter of the deceased a question. “Do you think that your father is somehow still with us, that he hasn’t gone anywhere?” And to my amazement, she and her husband both nodded their heads. Ask your friends who have lost loved ones what I asked or ask yourself. These little insights open a new way of viewing our lives. That Resurrection is real, that it is present, and that we know it! Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia.

Amen.

Sermon Preached at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, February 4, 2024, at10:00 a.m.

You Light Up My Life!

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundation of the earth? Lift up your eyes on high and see; who created these?” (Isaiah 41:21,26 )

“God counts the number of the stars and calls them all by their names.” (Psalm 147:4)

“And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message.” (Mark 1:39)

There was something very, very different and special about this Galilean Jesus. It was clear from the beginning, not just from the actual birth, when wise men followed a star to a cow stall and his birth cradle, but as he grew into a precocious child, when those in the synagogue were astonished at his teaching. And it wasn’t long before he had gathered a faithful band of disciples and was performing cures of the sick. Along with the laying on of hands Christ was compelled to proclaim the message.

And what was that message? It is the same message that we hear today, the message that draws us in as awestruck worshippers. And the message is that we are light, we come from and reflect the light of Christ. Everything he said and everything he did was to illustrate for those around him that he, as light, was conferring light on those he touched. “I am the light of the world” is perhaps the clearest statement about who he was. And even more wonderful, he said, “You are the light of the world!” That’s you and me.

Do we believe it, that we, you are I, are the light of the world.” I will suggest that every single moment of happiness and gratitude that we live illustrates this reality. Too good to be true? You betcha! And every bit of discouragement, drawing back from the beauty and enticements of life stem from a turning away from the reality and doubting just who and what we are.  That’s why so many of Jesus’ sayings are to encourage us, to lift us from our sadness and pessimism. Even as we look the horrors of the world in the face (and there are plenty of horrors to look at), Jesus says, “Cheer up, for I have overcome the world. Be of good courage. You have only one commandment love me and those around you as you love yourself.”

A light that shines both has light as its source but radiates outward onto what it shines, and this thing or person shined on takes on the qualities of that light. The Transfiguration, therefore, tells us much about who Jesus was, but also tells us similarly about ourselves on whom the light of Christ shines.

Similarly, if I were to ask you where this light on us today comes from, you will probably say, “Why, from the sun.” Yes, that’s true. And we know that there are millions upon millions of suns out there. That’s a lot of light. And we could continue and ask, “Where does the light from our sun come from,” and I’ll bet we don’t come up with a ready answer.

So, this God of ours, comes from we-know-not-where but emerges in the person of Jesus, who was so full of light he was transfigured and whose light was so great, that we reflect in our very being this same light.

I’ve had a gladsome time this season reflecting and singing about light. It’s a main theme of the Epiphany season; and, come to think of it, light is a prominent theme of Advent and Christmas as well.

So, I’m in a singing mood again, as I hope you are as well. First, just quietly look around you at those of us beside and near you today. See them as light, as reflective of God’s very light. For that is who they are!

Let’s begin with a song we sang at the beginning of the month. It’s so much fun and represents the life of joy of our life in Christ.

Our lives are a zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a, for just by breathing and particularly as we acknowledge the source of our life, there is “plenty of sunshine headed our way.” Bathed in light; bathed in glory!

Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah

 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 My, oh my, what a wonderful day
 Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 
 Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
 It’s the truth, it’s actual
 Ev’rything is satisfactual
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 Wonderful feeling, wonderful day, yes sir!
 
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 My, oh my, what a wonderful day
 Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 
 Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
 It’s the truth, it’s actual
 Ev’rything is satisfactual
 Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
 Wonderful feeling, feeling this way
 

Next, let’s sing “This little light of mine; I’m going to let it shine.” That we are conduits of God’s light. This is the enlightenment that truly enlightens, urging us to see everything in a new light, bathed in the love and grace of God itself.

So, seeing ourselves and those around us as bathed in the light of God lifts even the everyday and humdrum into a whole new or newly understood place.

This Little Light of Mine

This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 This little light of mine,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Ev’rywhere I go,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine.
 Jesus gave it to me,
 I’m gonna let it shine,
 let it shine, let it shine, oh let it shine.

I know, I know, all this can be particularly challenging when we live in a world that seems to thrive on conflict and war. We today are witnessing the most egregious example of genocide in decades, under the endorsement and okay of our own country and its leaders. The demonstrations in this country and worldwide are encouraging and speak to a popular uprising of revulsion over what is happening. We as Christians must pray and attend to this important crisis.

And, finally, for our last song, let’s look this morning much closer to home and at those who have lit up and even now may light up our lives. I daresay we will discover that there are lot more of these people than we might at first acknowledge.

Who is someone that you can think of right now of whom you can say, “You light up my life.” It could be someone in your past or someone today. I know you have such people. I hope you have many such people!

And don’t forget that these lights in our lives needn’t be people. They can be a book that influenced you profoundly; a piece of art you saw in a museum or art book; or a piece of music (classical, jazz or popular) that still sits in your memory. For remember, those books, art works and pieces of music were created by people, and indirectly, they, too, are lights in your life.

I would love to hear your stories about these things that have lit or are now lighting up your life. They will tell me a great deal about you, won’t they? For their lights, the lights you recall, light up your life now.

Which takes us back to singing. This time let’s try one a little bit harder, a song made popular by Debbie Boone.

YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE

So many nights I’d sit by my window
 Waiting for someone to sing me his song
 So many dreams I kept deep inside me
 Alone in the dark but now You’ve come along

And You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

Rollin’ at sea, adrift on the water
 Could it be finally I’m turnin’ for home?
 Finally a chance to say, “Hey, I love You”
 Never again to be all alone

‘Cause You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

‘Cause You, You light up my life
 You give me hope to carry on
 You light up my days and fill my nights with song

It can’t be wrong
 When it feels so right
 ‘Cause You
 You light up my life,        

AMEN.