Unclaimed Blessings
By: The Rev. Gigi Miller
After I recently tested positive for Covid, I received a post that really spoke to me. “Do not seize the day. This will startle the day and may cause it to become aggressive and give you a nasty bite. Instead approach the day calmly without making eye contact, pet it gently, and enfold it in a careful embrace. If the day shows any signs of resistance to being engaged with, it is likely to turn on you. Back off and return to bed.” We’ve all had times in our lives that can send us stumbling back under the covers.
I recall conversations with friends who are going through tough situations – serious illnesses, prolonged hospitalizations, long-term caregiving. After we discuss their specific issues, folks invariably talk about things they never appreciated before – the changing light on the mountains, a walk to the hospital from the hotel, the soothing touch of family members.
And I started to think about the things that escape my attention when I’m working through a to-do list or racing down the freeway to an appointment. Spiritual teacher Esther de Waal wonders if in God’s realm, “there is a great room, rather like a vast property office, filled with parcels of every shape and form, unclaimed blessings, that God has given us and we have failed to notice, to receive and make our own.”
“Unclaimed blessings” is an interesting phrase; it speaks to God’s presence and our response to it. Psalm 67 begins by asking God to bless us by showing us the Divine light of guidance and abundance. For the psalmist, the “us” means Israel, the people whom God favored and supported through all time. And yet, even this most chosen of all people recognized that God was too big for exclusivity. The word “all” is used five times in this psalm. When they see God’s works, all the nations and all the peoples of the earth will praise God.
Some of our siblings in Christ try to qualify our faith and restrict it to their narrow version of nationalism, which denies the humanity of both our faith tradition and our country. Our readings today reveal that God’s gifts are intended for all of us in every nation, not just to a certain few who think they have the inside track to the Divine. At the heart of most spiritual practices is a commitment to justice and charity. As if to prove that point, yesterday morning folks from Bethlehem Lutheran and the Islamic Circle of North America Relief joined us and our sister parish, St. Peter’s, to help our friends in need. The Easter promise is that the incarnate God blesses everyone.
The man of Macedonia in Paul’s vision reinforces this teaching of radical inclusivity, directing Paul, Silas, and their companions to Greece. There they start sharing the Good News with a group of women outside Phillipi’s gates. God opens the heart of Lydia, who claims God’s blessing and becomes the first European follower of the Christ, expanding the reach of this novel Jesus movement. Lydia subsequently offers the blessing of hospitality to the evangelists, establishing a home base to which Paul returns again and again, as he shares the Gospel with the entire world. It seems God’s grace multiples exponentially according to our response.
But if we think God is only operating at the big picture level, Jesus reminds us that God is intimately involved in our daily lives. Our Gospel reading continues Jesus’ final conversation with his disciples after their last meal together. Jesus knows what’s coming – his death, resurrection, and ultimate reunion with his Father – and he understands how lost his friends will feel without him. Jesus reassures them that “My peace I give to you” and tells them they won’t have to live in the world alone. The Father will send the Holy Spirit to remind them that Jesus abides with and in them, even closer than to them than he is now.
A few weeks ago, I came to Saturday morning feeling down and, if I’m honest, a little angry with God. One of my closest friends who, like some of you, collects heart-shaped rocks, is going though chemo therapy; the previous day’s treatment was particularly difficult for her. As I was greeting folks for breakfast, someone came up, handed me a rock in the perfect shape of a heart, and said, “I picked this up on the beach after I went surfing today. I want you to have it.” It all happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to say thank you; it was a blessing of comfort when I least expected one.
The author of Revelation shows us blessings of an apocalyptic sort. The Greek word, apokalypsis, from which revelation is derived, means to pull back the curtain or unveil something new. We read about a new city bathed in a light that never ends, dispelling the shadows of manipulation and deceit. Here, there’s no need for a temple or religion at all, since all those gathered can see God face to face, something not even Moses could claim. The city’s gates are open to everyone, so there are no borders or division among the nations. No one goes hungry as the Tree of Life gives abundant fruit to all. All the rulers of the world are reconciled and come to give God glory.
This vision of the shining city of God stands in direct contrast to our present reality, enveloped as is in pain and fear. Tomorrow, we observe Memorial Day and honor those military personnel who died while serving our country. When she was asked by her daughter why she still believed in God, the mother of a 19-year-old infantryman killed in Vietnam replied, “Because we had Mogie. His life was a gift, and it was a privilege to see the world through his eyes for a time.” Mogie’s mom had the courage to reclaim her son’s life from death’s darkness, revealing God’s ultimate assurance of love.
Easter’s significance is that, while everything is new, nothing has changed. Despite the world’s insistence on power and vengence, God’s redemption has the final say. Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Webber writes “I imagine Jesus standing here blessing us because that is his nature. He was God’s Beatitude— God’s blessing to the weak in a world that admires only the strong.” The Holy Spirit works within us, as Jesus promised, reminding us that God’s treasures surround us, waiting to be noticed and named.
Mogie’s mother remembered God’s gift of her son. May we remember that we are all of us gifts to each other, joining Jesus in his mission of renewal and the creation of God’s beloved community. As we say in Godly Play, “You are a blessing. Go be a blessing.”
