Psalm 23, John 10:1-10, Acts 2:42-47
Many years ago I remember asking my then toddler “What do
you want for Christmas?” He looked at me with his big eyes and with his little
toddler voice said, “a tree and a box.” I dutifully wrote it down on the piece
of paper I had titled “Christmas List.” And that whole Christmas season when we
took him to see Santa or when others asked what he wanted he said “a tree and a
box.” At some point he had seen or remembered images of Christmas and a big
sparkly tree with colorfully wrapped boxes underneath and it was exciting,
different and beautiful. So that was what he wanted “a tree and a box.” Of
course over the years that list changed as advertisements, catalogues, friends
and stores offered an array of things to “want” for Christmas. Also, over time,
that sense of wonder and awe at the tree and box also changed. I often hear
people talk about the “magic” of Christmas for little children, I wonder … does
the “magic” go when our awe and wonder at a tree and a box gives way to a
detailed and extensive wish list?
That question, “what do you want for Christmas” forces us
to think about what it is we seem to be lacking, what cool things do other
people have that we want, what is the next thing that might make us happy? What
do you want … can be a leading question, leading us toward the flashy images of
happy people with the latest technology, or beautiful people in the latest
styles or big fancy things that seem to exude comfort, luxury, piece of mind …
Where does that question “what do you want?” lead you?
Today for the Call to Worship we read together a familiar
Psalm. A Psalm that many people recognize and some have memorized. In that
Psalm we are being led to a place that is different from advertisements,
spending, and influencing. In that Psalm it says the Lord “leadeth me beside
the still waters.” Waters that restore the soul. Not the kind of waters that
promise to be infused with all the essential minerals to make your skin glow
and are on sale for a limited time. Not the kind of waters that require an
exclusive pass to access and are only available to the first few in line. We
learn in the first verse how to access these waters. “The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.” The path begins not with the question of “what do you want?”
but by the absence of wanting … and only trust … following a shepherd.
This Psalm begins from the perspective of a sheep,
following a trusted shepherd to all that is needed, pasture and water. And then
it moves to the perspective of a traveler in dangerous territory, protected and
guided to this generous display of security through the valley of death,
extravagant care and generosity right next to enemies. A breath-taking peace
despite scary circumstances. A sense of stability despite complete
vulnerability. A place of awe and wonder right in the middle of what is
uncertain.
I wonder about that connection between letting go of want
and embracing awe and beauty. When the follower lets go of want at the presence
of the shepherd, they find themselves in this beautiful and serene environment
filled with assurance and peace.
I was thinking about that sense of awe as I reflected on
the passage read from Acts. This passage comes to us after Jesus died, was
resurrected, hung out with the disciples for a bit and then ascended into the
clouds. So this is right around the beginning of that time when they are trying
to figure out how to keep the Jesus movement going without the physical
presence of Jesus. There is a lot of work to do to get this story about God
incarnate rising from the dead from there to the ends of the earth and across
thousands of years.
The passage from Acts begins by saying, “They devoted
themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread
and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were
being done by the apostles.” It goes on to describe how they all lived together
in harmony, everyone praising God, everyone sharing and all needs being met.
It’s sort of this golden age of being a Jesus follower. They are still living
in that awe of having experienced the risen Christ, witnessing his ascension
and then having Pentecost. And like in the Psalm, there is this connection
between awe and a lack of wanting. It says the disciples are all living in awe
while also dividing everything equally and praising God and living in joy.
There is no talk of what is lacking, who is messing up, or a wish list of items
that would make their communal life easier. No want, just awe. Guided by the
shepherd, their souls restored by the still waters.
The image of Jesus as a Shepherd that we find in John
really is about relinquishing our want and embracing trust. We hear the voice
of Christ and we follow. We follow through the gate, we follow to the still
waters, we follow through the shadow of death, wanting for nothing.
The idea of letting go of want is countercultural. There
are advertisements everywhere we look. We are bombarded with messages of what
we lack- in our homes, in our closets, in our loved ones, in ourselves. And I
wonder if all that want has taken away our sense of awe.
In a September 2025 article in National Geographic called
“The Life-Changing Power of Awe” various tests and studies were reported that
showed the power of experiencing moments of awe. Findings showed things like:
reduced inflammation, less self-focused brain activity, lower amygdala or
“fight or flight” activity, less stress, fewer physical complaints, greater
well-being, less impatience, more generosity and higher life satisfaction.
Now, I feel like some kind of advertisement, trying to sell
you on some wellness program or fitness regimen. All of this is not to add
something to your wish list or to do list. Please do not take out your phone
and add “experience awe” to your daily task list. In fact, I think awe may
actually be the opposite of a task or a regimen or a wish list item or
something to spend money on or even an exclusive opportunity. Awe is right here
and all around us. It’s about taking a moment to acknowledge the presence of
God in the voices united in singing a hymn, the way the light breaks through
the stained glass, the soft tiny hands of a baby, the gentle hug of a loved
one, a flock of birds in a perfect V formation, the unbelievable colors that
are sprouting out from the ground right now, the way the planets rotate around
the sun, the fact that the sun always sets and rises, or that we are here
together in this moment sitting where people have worshiped together for so many
years, singing praises to Jesus who died thousands of years ago and was
resurrected. This is not a limited time offer, there is no credit card number
required … it’s here and it’s there and it’s everywhere.
But we do have to be willing to look for it, to listen for
the voice of the shepherd and to put down our need to figure everything out,
control everything and insist on our own way- to trust, let go and allow
ourselves to be led to the still waters that restore our souls.
Before I lived here, I lived in Colorado Springs and if you
have ever been to Colorado Springs, you know that it has this great big
majestic and beautiful backdrop called Pike’s Peak. It is the purple mountain
majesty that is said to have inspired the song “America the Beautiful.” It is
the frame behind every parking lot, grocery store and sunset when you live
there. And in our living room we had a great big picture window that framed our
view of it. When we first moved there I think I took pictures of it from just
about every place I went. I marveled at the way the sun was reflecting from it
that day, or the fresh coat of snow on top or the sunset colors behind it.
During the days of pandemic lock downs I would stand and stare at it each day,
my connection to the outside world. We lived right down the street from Palmer
Park where we could do a quick rocky hike to a little cave and just sit there
with a stunning view of the whole city shrunken under the big white peak. It
was truly awe-inspiring.
And
then we moved here in January and when Spring came we marveled at every
colorful thing that burst forth from every corner of our yard, so many colors
and shapes against bright green grass. We commented on the birds and creatures
that passed through our yard before our dog barked them away. And on every
church visit we have done with my husband I constantly am telling the kids
“look at that” as we drive by waterfalls, lakes and mountains. And every time I
drive home from this church on I90, I look to my left as I cross over the
Hudson river and look at the beautiful shapes of the downtown skyline, hugging
the banks of the river.
Of course all of this is when I am not complaining about
the cold, or wishing I was on vacation or looking down at my phone or in a
hurry to get from one place to another. But all I have to do is look up and
there it is … awe. All around. A transcendent experience of restoring waters
right here around us. The Holy Spirit on display for all to see and hear and
feel- from the big white mountains to a colorful wrapped box under a sparkling
tree … God calls us to see the beauty even in the chaos, the stillness even in
the shadow of the valley of death … the voice of God calling for us to follow.
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