God Always Sees Us
“Do not confuse being noticed with being seen." -Anonymous
When I graduated from OU I was adamant with my family that I not "walk," and go to the graduation ceremony and walk across the stage. I was graduating from the largest college, the College of Arts and Sciences, and to give you an idea of the average class size, in 2024 the Dodge Family
College of Arts and Sciences graduated 9,517 students. I saw the entire ceremony as nothing but an inconvenience to my family who had already been to 4 high school, 2 college, and one Master's degree graduation for my siblings. "Please don't subject yourself to that 4-hour torture, it's not worth it for a piece of paper that's not even my real diploma," I pleaded with my dad.
This week, we start a brand new series titled "God Always. " In it, we'll examine four distinct traits of our Creator. First, we'll look at how God sees us.
I was asked awhile back what my "elevator pitch" of Christianity to a non-Christian would be. Meaning, that if I had just the length of time it takes to ride an elevator to preach something to someone, what would I choose to say? What an amazing question and one I want to encourage all of you to consider this morning. There's a popular cliche among educators and it points out the fact that if you think you know something, try teaching it to a 3rd grader. Suddenly the most complicated subjects have to be boiled down to just the essentials and experts in the field can find themselves grasping for words to use and analogies to draw to try and make it make sense. Faith is the same way. We can overcomplicate it so easily with hair-splitting doctrines and differences, the amount of water to be used in baptism, what words to say before a sacrament, the organization of the church board, and things that have nothing to do with the message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. So, what would you say in that elevator?
I would choose to tell this person, who is part of a society and system that quickly reduces human beings to numbers, tax brackets, and silly little titles, that they are seen by God. Plain and simple. There is something so powerful in that realization that I can't even begin to describe. Unfortunately, this can sometimes be understood as God watching and waiting for us to slip up in sin so he can pounce on the opportunity to punish. But this couldn't be further from the truth.
Psalm 139 finds David articulating the truth of God,
O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
Before we even blink, God knows the thought that comes to our mind, the action that follows, and the ultimate consequence whether good or bad. To say that God sees us in order to punish us is in direct conflict with the very nature of God as described so perfectly here by King David. God knows our hearts, minds, and souls, and He knows our sins, setbacks, and the temptations that we struggle with and so often overcome us. Here come my two favorite words in Faith...and yet. And yet, despite knowing all of this about us, God sees you for who He created you to be and loves you dearly. You sin, you fall short, you miss the mark and you follow your own will which inevitably leads to hardships, AND YET God cherishes you, here and now, and in the days to come, He will always see you and love you.
That is a message the world so desperately needs to hear.
Please understand that this does not mean there are no consequences for our actions, there will always be a reaction to every action of ours and God holds us accountable. But not in a punitive way, wherein God is anxious and excited to punish us to "balance out the scales." Rather God's accountability is always about moving towards growth and maturing and nothing God does will ever be for punishment's sake alone.
We can become so used to the way the world operates, in which we are seen as a number and little else. We get to a point where we're convinced the crowd is too big, the throngs of people too thick, and the noise too loud for God to possibly be able to see little ol' me, let alone care about what I'm up to. I hear it all the time from people as they struggle to find meaning and feel seen in this busy and overcrowded world.
My dad forced me to go to my graduation ceremony and said it was too important to miss. I disagreed, strongly, but decide to go and let them all drive up for it. In the days leading up to graduation I stood in line with several hundred other students and picked up my cap and gown, I filled out the same paperwork that thousands of other people were also filling out, and I rarely signed my name but instead put my student ID number (ID# 113815047 I still remember it today!). The morning of graduation I filed into the massive basketball arena and sat alongside the thousands of other graduates dressed in their black gowns, realizing the whole time how indistinguishable we all were and that my parents, who drove all this way, wouldn't even be able to find me in the crowd.
And yet, amid thousands of other students getting the same degree, dressed in the same cap and gown, and having achieved the same goal as I had when my turn came to walk across that stage and my name was announced, "Charles Michael Jonathan Bryant," it was met with the distant but nonetheless loud and rowdy applause and shouts of encouragement and love from my family sitting somewhere in that sea of people. At that moment, there was no crowd to be lost in, the number of people wearing the exact same thing as me didn't matter, and my student ID number was useless because I was Kevin and Crist's son, I was Patrick, Clayton, and Michelle's brother, I was beloved and cherished, I was seen for who it is I truly am. I was forced to admit that Dad was right to push me to go.
Every day that we wake up the world tries to convince us that we are just a cog in the machine, a number on a payroll, a drop in the bucket. That we aren't doing as well as our neighbors and don't measure up. But our God has never and will never see you this way. You are known fully, all your talents and potential, but also all of your shortcomings and struggles, and yet you are so priceless to God that you were bought and paid for by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross. Some two thousand years ago, Christ went to the cross with your name on his mind. Through space and time, you were seen, warts and all, and claimed.
I love saying this line because not only does it sound good, but it is one of the most factually and scripturally correct one-liners out there; YOU, yes you, are loved and there is nothing you can do about it. You can't hide from it, you can't make the excuse that you've gone too far or done too much because the same God who knows everything you've done, are doing, and will do, already loves you.
This Sunday we look at the story of Hagar and the horrible, degrading, and abusive situation she finds herself in. At her lowest, when she was convinced life had found a way to hide her from God's sight, El Roi, "The God who sees me," comes to her. Join us as we discover what it means to worship a God who sees all, knows all, and loves all.
What would your elevator sermon be to someone who needed to hear what faith and a relationship with God mean to you? The world needs fewer theologians and more walking testimonies to the love and grace of Jesus Christ!