"Come and See, Come and Hear" (Psalm 66)

This week, the public schools all had their open houses. The elementary schools had theirs on Monday, the middle schools had theirs on Tuesday, and the high schools had theirs on Wednesday.


As I walked around two different campuses this week taking in all the sights and wonders of Open House, I realized that, in a world where so much is changing, the public school open house is something that never does change much. There was a computer powerpoint projecting slide show images of the children in one class, but other than that, things are pretty much as they have been for many years.

In elementary school, the children excitedly lead their parents around the school, around the classroom, showing them where they sit and who they sit next to. There’s some work on the desk, and the students show that to their parents, and the parents smile and nod and say “very nice.”

And then the students leads the parents over to the bulletin board. “Come and see!” they say. And there on the bulletin board is the students’ artwork, or a poem that they wrote in their best (though not quite perfect) cursive handwriting, or a hand-drawn map in colored pencil with the teacher’s hand-drawn smiley face in red ink on it.

In middle school and high school, it’s a little different than that. For most teenagers, it’s not as cool to appear so excited about school. They may not even say those words out loud, the words “Come and see,” but inside they are still quite thrilled to be showing their parents around, letting their parents see this … world, this universe, that is such a big part of their lives, but which the parents normally don’t see much of.

Monday night’s Open House was, for me, the last I would ever attend as a parent of an elementary school student, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a big nostalgic this morning. Next year, it’s middle school and high school for us.

One thing that happened – something that happens to me every year – is that I couldn’t help looking around the classroom and remember when I myself sat in one of those little chairs, at one of those little desks. I remembered how excited I got, every year, for open house, how excited I was to take my parents by the hand, lead them around the classroom. I’m sure I must have said many times to my own parents, “Come and see! Come and see!”

And always, they did come and see. And always, I remember, that made me feel good.

There are other times when my kids will say to me, “Hey Dad, come and see. Come and see what I just built out of Legos. Come and see me reach the next level on my video game. Come see what I can do on the monkey bars.” And I’ll admit, it’s not always easy to go and see. It’s not always convenient. It’s sometimes an interruption.

And sometimes I’m just lazy.

Sometimes the call to “come and see” comes just as I’ve sat down in a comfortable chair with a cup of green tea and a book that I’ve just opened up to read. I have several books that I’m working my way through right now, including a book on kindness by a Buddhist monk, a new collection of sermons by Fred Craddock, and a book about the moral vision of César Chávez which I checked out from the Dana Library and have had to renew once because it’s taking me awhile to read it.

But I know how important it is for a child to have someone Come and See, so I try to respond positively. Fortunately it is almost always the case that when I do respond, I am able to express my admiration and affirmation, and it is, in fact, a genuine, sincere expression. And the heart of the child who summoned me is lifted, just a little….

…Because there’s something that happens when a person is able to share something important, something meaningful, with another person. It really is a powerful thing. As an introvert, I do value my alone time, and if I’m out and about, I’ve found that even a quiet lunch at a table for one can be a nice, peaceful, pleasant experience. However, even better is an experience that can be shared.

A few years back, when my family was fortunate enough to obtain annual passes to Disneyland, there were a couple of times when I would head there on a Friday morning by myself – Friday being my day off – and then the rest of the family would join me once they got off work and out of school.

It was fun, being there by myself. I’d go on some rides that the rest of the family didn’t care for much, and I’d use the single rider lines that a few of the attractions have so that I didn’t have to wait so long. And I enjoyed it, going at my own pace, doing my own thing, even waiting in line for a vegetable skewer at the Bengal BBQ which I love so much but which the kids think is an anomaly, having vegetables at the happiest place on earth.

So it was kind of nice, being there by myself. And I’d go see the show at the Golden Horseshoe; and being there by myself, I could walk in a few minutes before showtime into the crowded restaurant/theater, find an empty seat right up front, and say, “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” (because you can do that sort of thing at Disneyland), and with a smile someone would respond “No; have a seat.”

One time I did this, it was a woman in a wheelchair who invited me to sit at her table, right up front next to the stage. With a few minutes before the show started we introduced ourselves. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Long Beach; and you?”

“I’m from Riverside. My daughter here brought me for my birthday.”

And we chatted for a bit, and shared about our lives, and shared our favorite tips for getting the most out of a day at Disneyland. And then the show started and the woman whose birthday it was enjoyed it thoroughly. I mean, she laughed whole-heartedly, without holding back, and even got some acknowledgement from the performers on stage, which made her laugh even more.

And the show and indeed even the whole day became more enjoyable and more meaningful for me because I had established a connection with this woman who was now enjoying herself so much.

And then in the afternoon when my family arrived, I just had to tell them about the woman in the wheelchair whose birthday it was and how hard she laughed during the show. I had to tell them, because I thought they’d enjoy hearing about it, and because the experience becomes more meaningful for me when I am able to share it with someone else.

Sometimes, things don’t even seem real until you are able to share them. Something incredible happens, and you find someone near you and say, “Did you see that?” And if there isn’t anyone near you, you call someone, or you post it on facebook. It’s almost as if it didn’t really happen unless you are able to share it with someone.

Come and see! Let me show you. Come and hear my story. Come, let me share my life with you.

We find those words in today’s psalm. “Come and see; come and see what God has done. Come and hear my story; let me tell you what God has done for me.”

Sharing is important, and we share for different reasons. In scripture, after the resurrection, and just before he ascended into heaven, Jesus commanded his disciples to share what they had seen and heard. He said, “You will be my witnesses; you will share what you have seen and heard in Jerusalem, in Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

But that’s next week’s scripture, actually; and a command to share isn’t quite the same as a children showing their parents around at Open House, or an adult wanting to share what he saw and experienced at the Golden Horseshoe, or even, I think, a psalmist who is motivated only by his own heart to share his experience of God, so I won’t dwell on that too much today.

You may recall that the prophets had a certain knack for telling and sharing about their experiences of God. However, their sharing the word of God did not always improve the quality of their lives personally. It wasn’t always easy for them to share; and yet, it would have been even harder for them not to share.

As you may remember, Jeremiah wished he could keep all that he knew and all that he experienced to himself. He didn’t want to share it. The people didn’t want to hear it. But whenever Jeremiah tried to hold it all in, he found that he could not. It was physically impossible. He said that there was something like a burning fire shut up in his bones, and he had to let it out.

But that’s not the same as the psalmist’s enthusiastic desire to share, or the child’s invitation to come and see.

You may also remember when Philip became a disciple. Philip went and found Nathaniel – he had to tell someone about what he’d seen! – and he said to Nathaniel, “Come! We have found the one about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote; it’s Jesus, son of Joseph from Nazareth.”

This, I think, is closer to the enthusiastic sharing of the psalmist. However, Nathaniel did not, at first, share Philip’s enthusiasm. He said, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Even if you’ve never read this particular scripture, you can probably guess Philip’s response. He said, “Come and see. Come and see.”

If you’ve read your newsletter or looked at the schedule of events listed in the bulletin, you may have noticed something new listed for Wednesday evening. In the newsletter it’s called the Wednesday Night Supper Club; elsewhere I’ve just called it Wednesday Night Dinner. We’re not settled on a name yet.

But what it is, is an opportunity for you to come and enjoy a light dinner – nothing too fancy – in our fellowship hall. We’ll eat, and then we’ll have conversation. We’ll share our stories with one another.

And hopefully we will be able to share our stories with some neighbors as well, and we’ll be able to hear them share their stories with us, too. That will be good for us as well as them.

The plan is to continue doing this every week. We’ll see how it goes. How it all evolves will be up to those who attend. We may even get a little Bible study thrown in on occasion.

What I know for sure is this:

We will start promptly at six and end promptly at seven.

Anyone who attends for the first time will not be asked to pay. Since this week will be everyone’s first time, we aren’t even going to put a basket out.

All ages are welcome; the youth may want their own table, and that will be okay.

We will eat. We will share.

We will do this because we need to share. Not only because Jesus commands us to share, but because we need to share in order to learn, to grow, to experience all the meaning and fullness and wholeness that life has to offer. We need to share with others and develop significant relationships with others in order to be fully human.

The week before last, our Christian Women’s Fellowship groups met for a salad lunch and general meeting. Betsy Hillig gave a presentation and shared with those present a book that has been meaningful to her in her life.

The book began with a quote by Dr. James Comer: “No significant learning occurs without a significant relationship.”

That is why we share our stories with one another. That is why we say to one another, “Come and see.” Come and hear.” … So that we might find the significant relationships that help us learn, grow, and be the people God intends for us to be.