“The God of Surprises” [Following God in Real Life Summer Series #7] - Fr. Pete's Sermon for July 19th, the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Genesis 28:10-19a

At the seminary in Dallas, Texas, that I attended in the early 1980s, one of the requirements was a minimum 13-week internship in a local church. The big church I attended was crawling with seminarians, so finding a meaningful role there wasn’t easy. I could have taught a Sunday school class there and checked off that requirement, but I wanted the full experience. As the son of a Methodist pastor, I was wrestling with my own sense of call, and I wanted a real taste of pastoral ministry from A to Z. But my search was going nowhere.

Then one day I noticed a 3-by-5 card tacked to a seminary bulletin board, hidden underneath some other notices. The Church of the Master, a small UCC congregation, was looking for a student assistant. I called the pastor, Jerry, who eagerly urged me to come visit. Turns out that card had been posted for months without a response.

So I drove to the church… and discovered that it was just a simple storefront in a small, run-down shopping center. No steeple. No stained glass. No grand sanctuary. Just an ordinary space in an ordinary strip mall. I remember thinking, "This is a church?”

But inside I found a loving, devoted congregation of maybe 40 people who wanted to know and serve God more fully. And I spent a year as their unpaid assistant pastor: preaching, teaching Sunday school, leading Bible study, attending meetings, helping mail newsletters, visiting the sick and homebound. On top of my classes and a couple of part-time paying jobs, it stretched me to the max, but it taught me volumes about faithfulness and love, and how to be a pastor.

Oddly enough, at the end of that year, what I sensed from the Spirit was not,“Yes, go be a pastor right now.” It was more like, “Not yet. You’ve got some other things to do and some other things to go through first.” Well, I think that worked out well!

I’ve never forgotten that little storefront church. From the outside, it looked like almost nothing. Just another ordinary place I could easily have passed by. But inside, God was already at work.

And that is often how God works. A conversation over coffee changes the direction of your career. A chance meeting becomes a lifelong friendship. A hospital room becomes a place where families discover extraordinary courage. A church you almost didn’t visit becomes a spiritual home. The holiest places can often be the ones we nearly walk past without a second glance.

And Jacob certainly wasn’t expecting anything remarkable the night our story begins in Genesis 28.

As we continue our Summer Sermon Road Trip through Genesis, we're now traveling with Jacob. Last week we watched him make a terrible mess of things. His family is falling apart, and now he is running for his life. And it’s not a pilgrimage, it’s an escape.

By the time today's reading begins, Jacob is exhausted so after sunset he stops for the night. He picks up a stone for a pillow and falls asleep in the middle of nowhere. At least that's what he thinks.

While he sleeps, he dreams of a ladder stretching from earth to heaven, with the angels of God going up and down on it.

At the top stands the Lord, repeating to Jacob the promises first made to his grandfather Abraham about land, descendants, blessing, and one more promise that Jacob desperately needs to hear: "I am with you and will keep you wherever you go… I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

Notice something important:. God does not arrive because Jacob has finally found the right place. God was already there. The great surprise of this story is not that God comes to Jacob. The surprise is that Jacob wakes up to discover God has been present all along.

And Jacob’s response is one of the most memorable lines in Genesis: "Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it."

That may be one of the most honest confessions in the Bible. Not, "Surely the Lord has arrived." Not, "Surely I have found God." But, "God was already here...and I simply didn't recognize it."

How many times has that happened in our lives? How many moments have we only understood in hindsight? How many experiences that once seemed ordinary turned out to be turning points? God is a God of surprises!

Perhaps a difficult season in life actually taught us compassion we couldn’t otherwise learn. Perhaps a friendship we almost didn't pursue became one of life's greatest gifts. Maybe a move we resisted opened doors we never imagined. Maybe even this little congregation in ‘Aiea, became a place where God quietly went to work in our lives long before we realized what was happening.

We spend a lot of time asking, "Where is God?" Jacob's story gently turns the question around. What if God is already here with me? What if the better question is whether we have eyes to see?

Paul says something similar in Romans, though in a different key. He writes that we are children of God, heirs with Christ, and that creation itself is groaning as it waits for redemption. He says, “Hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen?”

Jacob would understand that. He cannot yet see the future God has promised him. He cannot yet see reconciliation with his brother. He cannot see the long road ahead. He cannot see how God will work through his messy and complicated life.

All he has, in that moment, is a dream, a promise, and the surprising discovery that heaven is nearer than he thought.

That is often how hope works. It does not always give us the whole picture. Sometimes it simply opens our eyes enough to say, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it.”

The beautiful irony is that Jacob isn't particularly admirable at this point in his life. He isn't seeking God. He isn't praying. He hasn't had a dramatic conversion experience. If anything, he's running away from the consequences of his own actions.

And yet God meets him anyway. No, that's not quite right. God doesn't meet him. God reveals that God has been there all along.

I for one find that deeply comforting. Because there are seasons when God seems absent, aren’t there? Prayers that seem to echo back unanswered. Days when faith feels more like routine than inspiration. We may assume that because we cannot see God clearly, God must have stepped away. Jacob says otherwise.

Sometimes the greatest surprise of faith is discovering that God has been quietly present all along, even when we were too distracted, too frightened, or too busy to notice. God is a God of surprises!

Looking back over my life, I can see Bethels everywhere. They looked like ordinary places. Only years later did I realize those were places where God was opening doors I could not yet see. I’m sure you could tell similar stories. I’d love to hear them!

You look back and realize that what felt like an ordinary Tuesday became the day everything changed. A doctor spoke words that altered your priorities. A grandchild was born. A friend invited you to church. A difficult loss deepened your compassion. At the time, you couldn't see what God was doing. Now you can.

That little storefront church in Dallas I walked into a very plain, ordinary building. But inside, I found a beautiful sanctuary, folding chairs and all—a loving family of faith.

Jacob lay down in an ordinary place expecting an ordinary night. Instead, he found heaven touching earth.

Who knows? The place you least expect...

The conversation you're about to have...

The ordinary week that lies ahead...

may become the place where, looking back someday, you quietly smile and say, "Surely the Lord was in this place... and I did not know it."  Surprise!  Amen.