It was just about 2:00 yesterday when I read a post on Facebook that helped me finally understand, or hear, what it was I needed to talk with you about today.
It was the story of a very busy, middle-aged businessman whose 80-year-old mother came to live with him. He was nervous about having her come to live with him, because he lived a certain way: quiet, focused, driven, and her presence would likely upend his carefully crafted way of life.
When she moved in, he expected she needed help—that he was there to help her. What he found was that her presence would change his life, forever.
You see, she would let him live his life, working from home, answering texts and phone calls, spending time on numerous online conference calls, doing paperwork all day, every day. Until 7:14. Not 7:15. 7:14 precisely.
She would knock on his office door and quietly, but firmly, tell him, “Come on. Let’s see what the world is doing before we go to sleep.” And together they would go for a walk in the neighborhood.
As they meandered, she would point out what she saw, what she was noticing, reminding her son what it meant to SEE beyond himself. She was teaching him how to breathe again. She was showing him that beauty could be found in the mundane, the ordinary, and when you take the time to notice it, it becomes extraordinary.
Soon, the man scheduled this time on his calendar. 7:14. He would leave his office, turn off notifications, and focus. Focus on his mom, focus on the everyday life in his neighborhood. This became a ritual for him to disconnect from all those things that distracted him from experiencing the world around him. He was learning that life happened outside his bubble. In a short period of time, he found this time became the most important time in his day.
This little story popped up just when I needed it.
I had just gotten off the phone with a dear friend, and we were talking about our sermons for today. She told me she was choosing to focus on the first part of this gospel, while I was focusing on the second part. She’s preaching about LIGHT. I wanted to preach about what it means to “come and see” what Jesus was all about, but I wasn’t sure, before we were speaking, what God had in mind. You see, there are times when something grabs my attention and I can’t let it go, but I don’t have anything that illustrates what I want to say. That’s what it felt like this week.
While we were talking, I mentioned something I experienced when we lived in Indianapolis. The memory was sparked by what the future disciples asked Jesus. “Rabbi, where are you staying?”
It’s a curious question, at least it was before I lived in Indy. Prior to that, I had never heard the saying “I stay at” in reference to where someone lived. I heard it mostly from my African American acquaintances, neighbors, and friends. It took me a bit to realize that when they say “I stay at” such and such a place, for me, it meant this was where I would say I lived.
When I was talking with my friend, I had an epiphany. I realized that where I live is different than where I stay. “Staying” evokes an image of temporary, of a place to rest, but not a place to live. We find our life most often outside the place we stay. When we truly live, it happens out in the world, where we can see and experience the mundane, and the ordinary, and where we can choose to recognize it as extraordinary.
There’s something about living in the world. About being able to see the world more broadly. To see the extraordinary ways people walk in the world, bearing grief, burdens, joy, and love and everything in between. It is in living and observing and learning about the diversity found in the cosmos that we can truly live.
Where we stay is only a part of how we live. Going back to the story, I really love that the man’s mother invited him with these words, “Come on. Let’s see what the world is doing before we go to sleep.”
Come and see.
Jesus was walking down the road when John points him out and tells others that he is the Messiah. Two of John’s followers decided to get to know more about this person John spoke so highly of, and Jesus turns to look at them and asks them, “What are you looking for?”
Rather than answering him, they counter with a question, “Where are you staying?” Jesus then invites them, “Come and see.”
Learning about how Jesus saw the world sure seems like the game “Show and tell,” don’t you think? Jesus brings people into his circle and shows and tells them what it means to act in ways that express the value and dignity of all people.
He stays in lots of places for his rejuvenation and to fulfill his daily needs, but he lives in the world. As we journey through his story and the stories from his disciples, we learn what it means to live. We learn that there are many ways to live, and we often do not know about so many of them.
Being a Jesus follower means we are invited to “Come and see” what he “shows and tells” with every part of our being. We are called to notice. To be surprised. To be outraged by what is immoral or unjust. To make a difference. We need to look for the beauty, the humanity, and expect justice -- and dignity always.
What would happen if we each took on the mother’s mantra each night: “Come on. Let’s see what the world is doing before we go to sleep.” Not just watching or listening to the news or reading social media posts, but instead, walk outside our doors and look. Really look at what is happening in the world.
I know I would have to walk outside of my neighborhood to really see what Jesus hopes I will see. Because my neighborhood feels safe, secure, and often without drama. At least that is what it appears to be. I do not know what happens behind any of those doors, or what is needed for the people who stay there.
That said, the world is still bigger than me or my neighborhood.
What would happen if any of us walked in places that felt uncomfortable, or spent time with the unhoused, the prisoners, the immigrants? What about the hungry and underserved children and elderly, or if we learned more about the struggles found with those in the LGBT+ community?
What if we walked with people suffering from health issues, addiction, or were being trafficked?
How about looking and listening more carefully to the clients at the Mission House, Pet Food Pantry, and those served by Kentucky Refugee Ministries or Home of the Innocents? What if we really listened and acknowledged how complex being a human is?
Jesus shows us who to look for and where to find them. He goes not just to where they stay…he goes to where they live—where they move and have their being—and he does not abandon them.
Jesus invites those who will follow him to come and see the world through his eyes, with his care and concern, with his love. Because we cannot do anything to assist or to fix it without first seeing it.
“Come and see,” he said. If you follow, you will hear what it means to follow God’s commandments. If you follow, you will feel, deep in your being, that we are to love God and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.
But first, we must be willing to hear the invitation: Come and see.
Come and see that God loves you. Come and see all the good that comes from God. Come and see, learn, explore, and be transformed as we, together, focus on how Jesus lived a life expressing love, dignity, and justice to all. Seeking and serving, feeding and healing. Inviting and saving.
Come, and see. Amen.
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