A Certain Place - Mike Cope

Today I want to talk about the three saddest words in the Old Testament so we've got that to look forward to. But first, I want to tell you about some places. One of them hit me yesterday. My plane landed in Omaha and that's my second time to be in Omaha. The first time was 40 years ago. As I got in my rental car and drove past and saw signs that said, "Boys down." I teared up and remembered that this is like holy ground for us. I was preaching in Cersei, Arkansas at the time our our daughter was by this time about four and our pediatrician said, "It's time to quit pretending she's just delayed. Something's wrong." And I don't know why he sent our little girl to Boys Town but he did because it was packed with geneticists and neurologists. And it was there over a long weekend that we learned that Megan wasn't just delayed but this was probably as advanced as she would ever be that she was mentally disabled and medically fragile. It crushed us and we knew no one in Omaha. Sunday morning we went to church. I was telling Brian this morning, a preacher from Omaha. I don't even know what church it was. I'm sure some church of Christ in Omaha but we walked in and everything about it. I don't know the name of it but I'll remember the spot where we stood and saying and prayed and received the blessing of the people. And to this day, that sacred ground, thinned space, where the people of God minister to us at a tender moment. There's a little area not very big about 10 feet wide and a few feet deep in the church where we attend in Abelding, Texas. I worked for Pepperdine but our grandchildren are in Abelding so we lived there. And in this church once voted by Texas Monthly, one of the 10 ugliest churches in Texas. But in that church, I got to stand there in preach for about 20 years and receive people for prayer. It's where I stood when I did the funeral for my own 10-year-old daughter and so many other funerals. It's sacred space. Now I know it's in a church building but it's for me. We don't sit right at the front now because we're with the grandkids but sometimes I go up and look at it and it's a thin space. I was born and graduated in the Ozarks of Missouri in a town called Neosho. Got another minute. There we go. Thank you. Since I've been born, my mom and dad have been reached at the same number, 4-5-1-4-4-9-3. My dad passed in 2018 and in two weeks my mom is moving to Little Rock to be around my sister and I have this personal crisis that I cannot reach my mom at 4-5-1-4-4-9-3. But Neoshoes, when I go back, it's electric for me because that's where I learned about the presence of God, not just at our little church, but among the people there. There are these places. In Genesis 28, Jacob is on his way. It says from Beersheba to Heron, a trip of 550 miles and he's going to Heron because mommy wants him to marry a good hometown girl. And he's going from Beersheba because his brother, his twin brother by seconds, has said the moment daddy passes. I'm killing my brother. So he skidattles out of town. And when night falls, I love the playful text in Genesis that said he came to a certain place. He didn't come to Jerusalem. He didn't come to the temple to the Holy of Holies. He didn't come to a cathedral. He came to a certain place. It could have been aisle 3 at Walmart. It could have been a table at Taco John's. It could have been your favorite chair down in the lobby of your dorm. It could have just a spot. But he has this dream. And in the dream, there is a ladder, some Bible say, a ladder from heaven. Other translations, and more importantly, Led Zeppelin, say, a stairway. But there's heresy in Led Zeppelin because it says a stairway to heaven. And she's buying a stairway to heaven. Nobody buys this one. It's a gift of God. And it doesn't go to heaven. It's let down from heaven. It's God's gift to say, I am there. I will never leave you or forsake you. I will bless you. Watch you. Be in you. And when he wakes up, Jacob says, the Lord is in this place. But, and here are the three words, I was unaware. I think how often relationships suffer because we're unaware. I go to Starbucks and people have gone out. There's a husband and wife there. And they're both on their iPhones. And they forget that the other one is even there. They're unaware. They're so much that we're preoccupied with. But for a moment, his eyes are opened and he realizes that God is here. He's imbued this very place with his presence. So this is an unusual chapel day for us because we've got the group up here. And we've got another group down here. And I want to tell you some about them. Their job is to keep people aware. And most of them are not from monstrous cathedral kind of churches. They're from many of them. They're ministers and leaders and informal leaders from rural and small town churches. Not all, but some are. And their job is to go in and be aware. People bleed stories and they keep the blood bank. They know the stories. And so there may be a narrative about there about how churches like that are dying, but they know the flip side. They know that God is present in their midst. These are heroes of the faith down here because they pay attention. They listen to stories and they interpret that for their people. They know the people that left food on the porch during COVID. They know the names of the people who have volunteered for 45 years to make casseroles and bread pudding for funerals. They know these stories. There's a thickness to them. And they've come. And they've loved. And they continue helping people keep their eyes open. The way unfortunately we use the measure churches by bodies, budgets and buildings, but those are not great kingdom ethics. Better kingdom ethics are fruitfulness and faithfulness. It's just they're harder to measure. They're two sides of a coin. And people like the ones in front of you today have their eyes on this. And they know God is in this place and they are not unaware. So I look around today. I see a good bit of green. I've been married 47 years to a girl whose maiden name was McKee so you can rest assured I got mine on. We lose track of what that's all about. Shamrocks or whatever. The people we're green today to remember one of the great evangelists of the church, Saint Patrick, a missionary from Great Britain to Ireland who helped lead what we call Celtic Christianity, which is a keen sense that there are thin spaces everywhere, that the world is electric with the presence of God that on the York University campus, God is here and He's alive and He's well. And they're just times that I get so preoccupied with the nets test and my friends that I can forget that one thing that God is here and He's shaping you in love. And so I want to close by reading a prayer that traditionally goes back to Patrick. He said, Christ with me. Christ before me. Christ behind me. Christ in me. Christ beneath me. Christ above me. Christ on my right. Christ on my left. Christ when I lie down. Christ when I sit down. Christ when I arise. Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me. Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me. Christ in every eye that sees me. Christ in every ear that hears me. My dear friends, I'm going to close on a double negative. Don't be unaware. Amen.