Not Invisible

If you were in church on Sunday and wondering about my absence, I was spending time with James at Camp Crestfield.  We were scheduled for the Father-Son Pioneer Camp, but that had to be cancelled due to low registration.  Not to worry, though; James and I did just fine on our own!

We took our bikes and spent Saturday morning biking at Moraine State Park, seven miles down the lake and seven miles back again.  That equals 14 miles.  I’m afraid these 41 year old legs and rump were dragging a bit behind my son’s 10 year old energy.  James – an almost daily bike rider – set the pace.  Even with the advantage of gears, I had to work to keep up with those young legs that keep on going at about the same speed, whether up hill, down hill, and on the flat stretches.

Back at camp on Saturday, we relaxed in our room in Scott Lodge – considerably cushier than the teepees we would have been sleeping in if Pioneer Camp had been a go!  Then we were back out to hike around and explore the farther reaches of the camp.  In the evening, we used my iPhone to view satellite images of the ground we had covered.  We were pretty impressed with ourselves.

For our morning devotion on Saturday, I had given us each the assignment of finding some item or scene  or two during the day that reminded us of God.  James found his in the coals burning in the campfire that night, reminding him of a story I once shared in a sermon about the importance of staying close to our church family to help us keep the embers of faith burning.

On Sunday morning, we were back at Moraine for 8 more miles of biking (ouch!) before driving home. James had another profound moment of reflection as we pedaled – apparently his mind was working as energetically as his legs.  “Dad, when I look at how huge the lake is and think about how small we are next to it, I think it’s cool that God knows we’re here.  If God didn’t know us, we’d be pretty much invisible.”

Maybe James should be preaching the sermons.

Viewed from the satellite on my phone, we would be invisible, or at least so fuzzy as to be indistinguishable from a rock, or a tree, or bench on the side of the trail.  Or, how about beyond the satellite?  Say, from one of the moons of Jupiter?  Jupiter is brightly visible in the clear summer skies, but even though it is 11 times bigger that Earth, it just looks like a star.  And you can’t see the moons with the naked eye, even though there are 63 of them.  So, from out there, we really are invisible!  And that’s a planet in our own solar system – never mind the galaxies far, far away.

But God sees us, knows us, and loves us.  The Psalmist marvels in Psalm 8, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?  Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honor.

Sometimes as a parent and a pastor, I wonder how much of the Christian faith is really finding its way into these souls in my circle of care.  Apparently, more than I know.  Certainly, more than I could effect of my own power.  If James can look out at the vast creation, feel his smallness, and yet feel known and loved by the Creator, there is something good is growing in his life, in his sense of self.  Somewhere along the way, the seed of faith has fallen on good soil and taken root.

As a parent and a pastor, I often feel like my legs and rump are fatigued as I try to keep up with my kids and my congregation on this path that winds in and around our lives.  What a comfort to know that God is not fatigued, but is riding on the wind at every turn, every steep climb, ever pleasant period of coasting.  The Creator is creating still, and we are the witnesses of this wonder.  The Creator loves the whole creation, down to the smallest creature.  Small we may be in the universe, but we are not invisible – we are seen and fully known.

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~ by Rev. Mike on September 28, 2010.