Catching Glimpses of God
based on Luke 2:22-40
Rev. Karen A. Goltz

            The overhead lights have been dimmed, the candles and the lights on the trees in the chancel area are shining brightly, the sound of the people singing 'Silent Night' quietly and reverently washes over you, and as the flame of the tiny white candle is passed to you and then on to the person sitting next to you, you feel as though you've shared more than just a tiny piece of fire with those around you.  You don't really understand it, but you feel a deep connection with everyone in the congregation, with the songs you've been singing, with the texts you've been hearing, with the event you've been celebrating.  All of a sudden you feel a deep peace, because you feel truly connected with God.

            Or maybe it was at the baptism of your first-born child, or grandchild.  You watch as the pastor pours water on the child three times, saying, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."  You see the pastor make the sign of the cross on the child's forehead and say the child's name, followed by the words: Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.  And whether or not that child is aware of what's going on, whether that child is being cooperative and complacent or downright ornery, you suddenly know that you are not alone in guiding and shaping that child.  You suddenly know that there is someone who will watch over that child when you cannot, someone who will guide that child in ways that you never could, someone who loves that child with a love even deeper than yours, though you can't imagine that any love could be deeper than yours.  But you suddenly know that this is not some empty ritual that you're just expected to do.  Suddenly you know that this child is a child of God, sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ, forever.

            Or maybe it was when you were receiving communion some Sunday just like any other Sunday.  The pastor comes to you, gives you a little piece of bread, and says, "This is the body of Christ, given for you."  And then you receive a little cup of wine and you hear the words, "This is the blood of Christ, shed for you."  And as you eat that bread and drink that wine you suddenly know--you know, that the body of Christ was given for you, Christ's blood was shed for you, and the intensity of that knowledge is almost overwhelming.

            Or maybe it happened far away from these four walls.  Maybe you were riding along one evening and you saw the sun setting, the colors in the sky changing, and the entire landscape being transformed.  However connected you do or don't feel at church, you suddenly know that life on earth is no cosmic accident.  You look at the sky and the landscape, the shapes and the colors, and the only thing you can do is give thanks for such a gift, praise God for making such intense beauty, be humbled by such majesty, and feel blessed by being allowed to witness the miracle of existence.

            There are thousands, millions of such spiritual moments.  They can happen anywhere, any time, to anyone, no matter how 'churched' or 'unchurched' they may be.  We may not understand what is happening, and later we may not acknowledge that God had anything to do with it, but at that time we feel a connection; we feel at peace.  We feel holy. [continue]