Being Present

A few Sundays ago, I was privileged to speak in our church. What I love about this is the preparation. I love studying the scriptures and then relating those scriptures to my own story and our collective Christian journey.

I put a short, modified excerpt of it here mainly for me. To remember. To be encouraged. And to be sorrowful when I do not live the life that I preach:

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings

These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

Silver white winters that melt into springs

These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I'm feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel so bad

Jesus has been born and being the father of this newborn has changed Joseph’s life completely. He looks at this baby boy, Jesus, with love. He would do anything in his power to protect him. He doesn’t want this child to suffer, ever. Joseph’s heart breaks a little when he cries and watches as Mary tenderly consoles him. But his heart trembles with anxiety and worry. What child starts out life being born away from home and family and in an old barn with livestock. And yes, if this child is really the Messiah and the prophecies come true, the life of his son and his wife will be full of pain and misunderstanding.

And now this dream, this frightful dream which foretells of the threat of death that Herod is to Jesus. Joseph must gather his family in the middle of the night and flee. This was not the dream he had planned or hoped for for himself, his lovely Mary and certainly not for their baby boy.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…  I cannot imagine that the advice of the governess Maria would do Joseph very well on this fearful night. Joseph’s favorite things, his dreams, or his “happy place” would not bring any amount of peace or solace.

A number of years ago I became familiar with the ethicist and theologian James McClendon. He’s not very widely known as he wasn't a prolific writer; but what he did publish was insightful, scholarly and at times profound.  In one of his writings he talks about the virtue of presence.  What it meant to be present and to be present for someone in our Christian witness.

McClendon said “Presence is being one’s self for someone else; it is refusing the temptation to withdraw mentally and emotionally.” The virtue of presence is basically being here and being real. It is about emotional and spiritual space, not just physical space.

We can all recall times when we have been with a friend, a spouse, a child, and though he or she was right next to you or across from you, they were not with you. Their mind was somewhere else.  Not necessarily because of a phone in their hand or the football game playing on the screen over your head, but their heart was distracted. They were listening and responding accordingly, but not present.

When we are present with someone it is about being sensitive to what’s going on around you, and not just in you. 

I admit it is hard to always be consciously present with someone. The vibration of the phone in my pocket, my worries about a forthcoming class, or the shop I need to get to before it closes – these distractions keep my heart from being with your heart.

I have to and must make an effort when I am with someone to be present with them: to hear them and to feel them; to not come with my agenda and anxieties, but to listen to their heart; to not be sorrowful about the past or anxious about the future, but to be present right then and there.

Presence does not always have words. It does not always need actions. It is understanding. And sometimes not understanding, but trying. Presence is an available shoulder to cry on, hand to hold, ear to listen. It is “putting our own body’s weight and shape alongside the neighbor, the friend, the lover in need.”

Immanuel, God with us, came to earth. Lived our lives. He knows our messed up world. He took our shape. He aligned himself up next to us and said, “I understand. I have been there and I am here.” His presence was real and with us.

As believers we are called to be Christ to others. To be present, to embody the love, grace and forgiveness that Jesus came to be. We are called to carry the light of hope in a world that is pressed down with hopelessness to people who have forgotten or chosen not to believe.

Our presence must be real to those who do not know Christ. Our presence must be real to each one of us sitting here today, it expresses to our sisters and brothers that we are indeed family. With the same bump and bruises and struggles of any family, but because of Christ we journey together in love and hope. And we care for the person sitting next to us, in front of us, behind us, up here behind the pulpit, behind the soundboard in the nursery, in the Sunday School classes.

Keith and Denise Jones. Joyce DeRidder. Joe Ann Shelton. Parush Parushev. Mark Vroegop. Jeannette Wolters.

These are people, whom you may not know and may never meet. They live in different states and different countries. These are names and faces of people who have been present for me. They have been with me through tears and trials. At different points along my Christian journey, they have held my hand and guided me through open doors. They gathered around me and cared and prayed and showed me that in the mess of life there is hope, there is joy, and there is peace.  This is what Jesus looks like today.

Look around you here today. [remember, you’re at church ;)] Take a moment to remember those who are not here. Bring to mind others, individuals and communities who have walked with you at some point in your journey, who have been present. Who were to you, Jesus with skin.  

Jesus was born to Joseph and Mary who were in the midst of an unsettling, but exciting story. They did not know what came next in their journey, but they held Immanuel in their arms. Whatever their next step, whatever darkness and trouble came, they knew God was with them.

When the tears that fill your eyes blur the road ahead. When sorrow has such a hold on you that you can’t imagine days getting any better. Look around you. [still at church!] We have each other. We have the body of Christ - sisters and brothers who will hold our hands, let us rest our head on their shoulders. Who will embody the Christian story and be present. We have Jesus with skin, God with us.

I can go without raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.  Girls in white dresses and snowflakes will not make me hope for better days. They will not calm the sting of the bee or lessen the pain of a dog bite.

But I have you, my sisters and brothers you, the body of Christ, you are my favorite things.