University
Congregational United
“
…And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘See, the home of God is
among mortals’” Rev. 21:3a
There is an old saying, “If you can keep your head while all around you are losing theirs, you probably aren’t paying attention.”
For me- the one who regularly looses her keys, places her coffee cup down and forgets where it is, walks through a remodeled room without noticing the changes- for me to preach a sermon on “paying attention,” is evidence of two things.
The first is that most preachers preach sermons that they as much as the congregation need to hear.
And the second is that God’s grace is abundant.
So with these realities in
mind, let me give you a concrete example of “lack of attention” from my own
experience. Several years ago I was
riding my bike through
On this particular day, my
friend and I were riding up. And it was
hot. And the scenery wasn’t
spectacular. We were in a lower section
of the road, were the blasted granite of roadway construction was on one side
and the blasted-bare wall the granite had come from was on the other side. When
By then, we had pushed ourselves beyond our normal time for taking a break and eating, and I had lunch on my mind. So when we came to a spot where the road widened enough to stop and eat, I just got off my bike, grabbed my food, and sat down on the guard rail. My back was to the beautiful view we had ridden hard to attain. I was facing the road, and across that the cut through the side of the mountain that made it. It wasn’t until I started eating that my riding partner finally pointed it out, laughing. “You know,” she said, “we rode this far so we could have our lunch with a view. Don’t you think it’d be a good idea if you turned around and looked at it?”
I don’t know where my mind was when I sat down that day and turned my back without thinking on the goal I worked so hard to attain. I was tired, I was hungry, and I just forgot what it was that I was about.
Now I tell you that story to point out this thing about paying attention. And I know that as much as I need this sermon, I’m probably not the only one. I think this sense of being caught with our minds drifting is something many of us have experienced- if not you personally, then certainly someone sitting near you. In life, we sometimes get so caught up in the course of things that it is hard to pay attention to what is really happening. We get lost in the details, or the stresses, or our own narrow definition of what we need. Sometimes we just get lost in the routine.
And we forget to pay attention. We forget to stay focused on what matters most.
I would like to suggest this
morning that it is at those moments when we are not paying attention that we
are the most vulnerable to loosing track of ourselves, to doing things we don’t
mean to do, to falling into a life we really don’t want to live. I think it is at least a piece of what
happened to this crowd we read about in John.
On this particular day, gathered there in
And I think this could be possible because I could see myself in that crowd, not quite paying attention to what we were about, knowing someone was shouting about something and so joining in.
Paying attention, you see, isn’t easy. Paying attention is a spiritual discipline.
Those who pay attention are the ones who are willing to seek the substance of a thing. As writer Judy Reeves says, “Paying attention has to do with slowing down. It has to do with staying in the Now and being mindful in your daily life. The great spiritual teacher Thich Nhat Hanh said mindfulness is to be present in the present moment.” Those who pay attention are the ones who take the time to look beyond the categories our minds use to make life simple and to move things along. They are the ones who reject the stereotype that allows us to explain experiences and just go on. They are the ones who see something deeper.
Artists, true artists do this. Writers, painters, story tellers, dancers, singers- they take us to the heart of reality and invite us to see what we, in our business and our routine, do not see.
And those who pay attention are the ones who are willing to deal with the difficult parts of life. They look at the hard parts of truth and do not blink, do not turn away. They take the risk of telling us what they have seen, even when it is not popular, or does not draw crowds.
Those who pay attention are the ones who do not settle for the sound bites. And in looking beyond the crowds, the majority opinions, and the explanation that this is just “the way things are” they are the ones who always take us into new possibilities. They take us to a world where justice for all is genuinely possible, where a world at peace can be imagined, where the unseen and marginalized become visible and central.
There is much in our world that would pull us away from this “paying attention.” There is even the intentional distraction of those who would deceive us. At times we are like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz (the movie version), being told, when the unmasking of the powers is threatened, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” while the would-be wizard spins furiously in an attempt to create and sell an illusion. But paying attention is ultimately what gives life focus, meaning, purpose, direction. Paying attention, in other words, is at the heart of spiritual practice
Spiritual people know this.
And deeply spiritual people know what can result from this deep attending. In the book we are reading for our Lenten study, St. Francis and the Foolishness of God, we see something of what it means to pay such attention. St Francis was one who suggested that the more we pay attention to the particular; and that is what he did, he paid attention to the beasts and to flowers and to the earth; the more we pay attention, the more we will see the reality and the love of God.
That
is a bold assertion. Yet for those of us
in this community of faith, I think it is one that resonates. Because there is a deep cost in not paying
attention. Wilderness writer Stephen
Trimble tells of a canoe trip on an easy river with family and friends. As he was rounding a bend after leaving the
shore, he stopped paying attention. He
let his assumptions take over- this is an easy river. He bent down to tie his shoe. And by the time he looked up again, the canoe
had rounded the corner and the river had changed. Third in line, he followed the canoe in front
of him and went hard left. But it was
too far left, and he and his canoe and his five-year-old son were tipped upside
down and out. Somehow he and his son
came up out of the water and held onto the canoe until they could make their
way to safety. “In that moment of
inattention,” he says, “all might have been lost. This time, we lost only gear, no limbs, no
lives. This time, the river warned me: every run needs full attention.”
Paying attention at times can be critical. However, it is a difficult thing to do. We will forget. We will get lost. We will not take the time. So here’s what I do when paying attention is so hard. I connect myself with people who can help me. In simple things, that means sometimes others around me notice when I put my keys down somewhere where they know I will not find them again without help. But more significantly, it means, when I have narrowed my focus to my own little lunch, they will remind me to turn around and look at the view. When I have forgotten that this river needs my attention, they will call me to attend, attend. When I have been swept up in the crowd without really knowing what is going on, they will call me to look beyond the surface to seek the substance. When I have closed my eyes or my ears to the more difficult parts of reality they will gently invite me back, and remind me I do not walk any valley, even the most shadowy ones, alone.
And when I have forgotten how to laugh, they will help me pay attention to the sheer joy of being alive. Because ultimately, as Anne Lamott says, “There is ecstasy in paying attention.”
It’s when I have stopped paying attention (and you know I can’t pay attention all the time), or when you have, that’s when we need each other the most. That person who is sitting right near you may be the one who gently invites you to turn around, and see what it is you are really about. That person might be the very one who calls your attention to the deepest substance. That person might be the one who points you right to the love of God.
That is what happens in
worship- we pay attention. It is what happens
when we work together to create genuine community. And may it also be what happens in our
lives. This week, (and especially this
holy week), as we remember the journey from Palms to Passion to Resurrection,
may we find the grace to attend, to attend.
Amen