OK, two months, seven states and one Canadian province, four national parks, 6,500 miles — in twenty minutes or less. I guess I’d better get started.

Actually, the heart of my experience was stated clearly and simply by my five-year-old nephew Philip. He made a cross in the top of his pudding with his spoon and declared that he had found a sign of God. “You mean God is in your pudding?” I asked. To which he responded, without hesitation, “God is everywhere!” And, of course, he was right. That important lesson came back to me over and over again during my sabbatical adventure. Whether I was kayaking among the breathtakingly beautiful islands of British Columbia, or driving through strange and wonderful Yellowstone, or watching the waves crash over the rocks along the Pacific coast, or standing in awe as dolphins leaped out of the water in front of me, or sitting on a rock in Arizona as a beautiful sunset played out behind me while a powerful lightning storm spread out in front of me, or feeling humbled by the sheer enormity of the Grand Canyon, or overwhelmed by the up-close and intimate magnitude of Zion Canyon, I was continually being reminded of God’s presence. I could appreciate Philip’s profoundly simple declaration — “God is everywhere!” — in a fresh, new way because I was taking the time to slow down and notice. For the most part I didn’t have to be anywhere at any particular time. I could stop every time I noticed something worth looking at (which, on some stretches of road was every few hundred feet). In places like the Discovery Islands, or the Redwoods, or the Grand Canyon such an awareness is a little bit closer to the surface — you have to move slower and you know to be on the lookout for the extra-ordinary. And there is the heart of the lesson. We need to learn to live every moment of our lives this way — slow down and watch for signs of wonder around every corner. After all — “God is everywhere!”

Of course it is simply not possible to live our whole lives the way I was able to spend my time while on sabbatical. Most of the time we do have places to be at particular times and things that must be done. We have the ordinary, everyday responsibilities and duties to occupy and distract us. But we would do well to remember to slow down at least once in a while and breath. In “How the Irish Saved Civilization” Thomas Cahill writes of the faith which Patrick brought to Ireland: “The world is holy, not just parts of it. The sacred dance of the sacramental life, a sacramentality not limited to the symbolic actions of the church’s liturgy, but open to the whole created universe. All the world is holy!” He then quotes an Irish poet, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil —”

God is everywhere! The whole world is holy! And when we can learn to pay attention, such sacred dancing of creation is waiting for us to notice. The Buddhists have a term which describes an attitude which they strive for — mindfulness. I’m confident that I don’t have a full appreciation for what the term means to them, but it seems to me to be a helpful quality for our lives as well. Seeking to be aware of God’s presence — not just in the big moments and grand gestures, but in the everyday times as well. Developing such an approach to living leads to a fresh understanding of prayer as well. It becomes less about words and formulas, and more about simply being fully in the presence of God.

Ann Weems wrote a poem which she called “Holy Ground.” (Searching For Shalom - page 77-78)

It wasn’t so much holy ground as it was holy water that led me to write “Fluid Grace.”

Straining my eyes I watched
   Holding my breath I waited
But simple anticipation could not prepare me
   for the overwhelming grace
      of one dolphin leaping
Tears of joy unbidden
   formed my prayer of thanks

Slowing down to notice the presence of God that is all around us all of the time. That lesson came through loud and clear. But at least equally as clear was the strong sense of the tremendous value of community. In all my travels I was aware of my connection to this congregation. Your prayers mattered. Knowing that I am a part of you mattered. Knowing that this God-filled life I was experiencing was the same God-filled life which I share with you mattered. In all of the amazing places where I was acutely aware of God’s overwhelming presence, it was through my connection with this community of faith that I saw God’s love most clearly. It is in our love and care and connection with each other that God works most directly in our lives and in our world.

Of course the lessons that God is everywhere and can be seen most clearly in the midst of community are not new. I didn’t really need to go on sabbatical to discover them. Except, perhaps, I did. Sometimes it takes going away to remember what we have. T.S. Eliot put it this way:

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

Together may we continue to discover the ways in which God is present and working in us and through us, because after all, God is Everywhere. Amen.