"Integrating God"
Psalm 8
First Presbyterian Church
Susan Bentley
April 29, 2007
Youth Worship Sunday
Return to the Sermons and Articles Page
Return to the Sermon Archives Page
My days as a senior are numbered. While there is still much to look forward to, like everyone else, I’m anxiously counting down the days to graduation. (54 days in case you were wondering.) As I near the end, I’ve come to realize how much I’ve really learned and grown to appreciate. I’ve also realized that it’s not just in the Bible where we find God, but everywhere, from books to biology. If I had any idea what I was doing in physics, I’m pretty sure I’d be able to find God there too.
First of all, God is like calculus. This may sound a bit far fetched, but I hope I can make you understand. On one of my first days in calc this fall, we learned about limits, which are infinitesimal holes on curves that consist of no natural distance from where they start to where they stop. As Mr. Lumia explained this to my class, he was met with a lot of perplexed looks and blank stares. He explained to us that we may not be able to fully comprehend it, but asked us to accept the concept anyway.
When I think about it, God is like limits, or rather, the opposite of limits. While a limit is infinitely small, God is everywhere, infinitely large. Sometimes, I think it’s hard to believe in God because I can’t define God or prove God’s existence. For a while, I’ll feel like I completely understand and other times, I feel absolutely clueless. This is something I struggle with, because as a student and a human being, I have become so used to being able to find the answers. Being the over-thinker that I am, I know that I could go around and around, but never arrive at a definitive answer. However, early on that September morning in calculus, I figured something out. While I think it is important to question our beliefs and ideas, I know God is like limits. I can’t always wrap my mind around it, but I know God exists. After all, when you look at all the beauty around you, how can you deny God’s existence, and the feeling that there is something so much larger than you out there?
Another reason that I am forever indebted to my teachers is for fostering my love of reading. When I was stuck on the couch after shoulder surgery in December, one of my favorite English teachers hooked me up with a LARGE pile of books. This probably kept me from going crazy while recovering, and in fact, turned out to be quite lucky, because in my reading, I stumbled across a fantastic and beautifully written book called The Alchemist. We have recently read and discussed the novel in Sunday school, and one of my favorite passages involves a conversation between the wise old king and the boy.
The boy asks the king about the secret of happiness, and rather than responding, the king suggests that the boy look around his palace. However, while he is doing this, the boy must carry around a teaspoon full of oil without spilling it. The boy is so concerned about spilling that he doesn’t notice any of the marvels of the palace and has nothing to report to the king upon his return. The king tells him to go back and really look at the beauty of the house. This time, when the boy returns, he can describe all the wonderful details of the palace, but has lost the oil in the spoon. The wise king then clues him in. He advises the boy that “the secret to happiness is to see all the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil in the spoon”.
We can easily put ourselves in the boy’s position.
Often I feel we’re too distracted, and ignore this essential balance in our
lives. We have so many different selves. We have the school self,
the sports self, the self we are around friends. There’s the work self,
the music self, and often lastly, the religious or spiritual self. With
myriad selves to be, we are constantly pulled in multiple directions. This
can quickly turn into a tricky situation, but it doesn’t need to be.
It’s not a contest. In the
Living like this, full of love and gratitude for the world isn’t always easy, but when we do, we end up living more deeply and fully into the world around us. The Polish author Czeslaw Milosz writes,
Love means to look at yourself
The way that one looks at distant things
For you are only one among many
And whoever sees this way heals his heart
Without knowing it from various ills.
A bird and a tree say to him: friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
so that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves.
He who serves best doesn’t always understand.
This has become one of my favorite poems. I wish we could all stand in the glow of ripeness.
I’ve been lucky to grow up in a church like First Pres that has fostered my appreciation for the world and guided my religious journey, but also pushed me to explore and figure things out for myself. Over the years, this church has become such an integral part of my life. Earlier this year, someone asked me if I ever get tired of going to church, and I honestly answered no. The first thing that came to my mind during this conversation was family. This church is my family and my home and I feel that when we are here, we all stand in the glow of ripeness together.
Amen.
Return to the Sermons and Articles Page
Return to the Sermon Archives Page