Lord, you are all we’ve ever wanted, all we’ve ever needed.
Many of us didn’t know what we were looking for, who we were looking for. Or that we were even looking.
Our lives were full of gaps we were desperate to fill. We tried it all, mindless purchases of trinkets and trash we thought we couldn’t live without. We stockpiled stuff in closets, on shelves, hidden under beds and behind couches. We drifted from relationship to relationship, from job to job, from place to place seeking something to fill the void, seeking someone to fill the aloneness. Homesick for a place we had never been; longing for a person we had never met.
We tried to fill the silence with music and laughter and talk, but it was only so much noise. Static. And the loneliness and fear seeped into the little cracks of our lives and into our very bones until the marrow itself turned dark.
And then you passed by and as you passed the light of your life shined through the gaps, penetrating deep within and we felt something we had never felt before. And we could not not follow you even through we did not know you; even though we did not know where we were going. Like the woman in the crowd who touched the hem of your robe we knew if we could just get close enough we too could be made whole. We hung on your words even when we couldn’t understand them – just the sound of your voice was enough.
We remember that first encounter and though our paths have continued to meander and we are still confused and we still try to hide the little holes of our lives with stuff and noise and people and work and who knows what, we have not strayed so far away that we cannot reach out and touch the hem of your robe.
Nothing else matters. Today we are here to say that our worldly wealth, our education, our status, our favorite food, our greatest earthly joys are yours – our very lives are yours – take them. They are meaningless without you.
Be as near to our brothers and sisters the world over. Be near enough for them to touch, near enough for them to smell the smoky incense that clings to your robe, near enough to feel your breath. Especially to our sisters and brothers in places of war. The estimated 320,000 Kurdish Christians who are now even more in harms way. Our Syrian sisters and brothers who worship in the ancient Eastern Orthodox Church. Especially the widows and orphans. Be near our sisters and brothers among the refugees of Central America and north Africa who are penned between bands of unholy criminals and the unwelcoming policies of wealthy nations.
Be near our Christian sisters and brothers who live and serve you in difficult places – not missionaries alone, not only those who tell the good news of the infinite riches of Christ, but those who serve in government. May their lives be conduits of sanity and peace and justice and righteousness penetrating the deep darkness of our day. Be near enough to give them courage, and strength and hope. May they not be like Peter who in hostile darkness and fear denied he knew you.
Be near to us as we try to discern our role and responsibility. Blow the dark clouds away and calm our troubled minds as you calmed the sea of Galilee. Help us gain clarity about our words and actions – our prayers, our conversations, our engagement in the public square.
And please, dear lord be near, so near those in this precious congregation whose lives are unsettled, whose bodies are giving out, whose once loving relationships are turning sour, who face distress and a terrible aloneness. You are close. We know this is true. Give us all the courage in the crush of the crowd to reach out and touch you. To find healing and purpose. And when we do, we will be sure, when you turn and ask “Who touched me” to say, “it was me. It was me. You’re all I’ve ever needed.”
In Jesus name,
Amen
— by Richard White