Did You See What I Saw?

(A Glance Back at 2006)

Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice

(Luke 60:5a)

So the shepherds went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.

When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child.

(Luke 2:16-17)

Said the night wind to the little lamb,

“Do you see what I see?”

(“Do You Hear What I Hear?”)

A sermon by Siegfried S. Johnson on the First Sunday after Christmas, December 31, 2006

(Volume 1, Number 27)

First United Methodist Church, 605 West 6^th, Mountain Home, Arkansas 72653

 Discover magazine published an article with the intriguing title, “Do You See What THEY See?” The piece summarizes research on a rather bizarre condition called synesthesia, a neurological overlapping of the five senses in which a person loses the ability to distinguish between various sensory inputs.  In other words, a person with synesthesia receives mixed signals, a stimulation of one sense involuntarily splashing over to one or more of the other senses.   While most are able clearly to delineate between sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell, about four percent of us show mild signs of synesthesia, and one in every 15,000 have a more intense synesthesia.

If you were a synesthete, for example, my voice may be not merely something you hear, but also something you might be able to see.  You might see my voice as one color, and Randy’s as another.  Or, my voice might be something you could feel, associating my voice with a certain texture.  Synesthetes may quite literally be able to smell or to hear a color, to get a certain taste in their mouth when they see a certain shape or letter or number.  This isn’t totally bizarre.  We commonly use expressions such as a “loud color” or “velvet voice,” even though we don’t actually hear the color or feel the voice.

For some, such phrases are more than figurative.  It’s called multi-sensory convergence, and neuro-scientists studying synesthesia think it may open a new window into the mystery of human consciousness.  Synesthesia is the precise opposite of a much more familiar term, anesthesia, which means “no sensation.”  Synesthesia is the abundance of sensations, all overlapping.

It won’t, perhaps, surprise you to learn that most synesthetes grow to love their condition.  As one described it, “we are like good and much-played violins, which vibrate in all their parts and fibers at every touch of the bow.”   Synesthetes feel themselves in touch with the world, experiencing vibrant connections between the senses.  Many seek these very sensations, often endangering their very lives by falling into behaviors whose result is the inducing of a multi-sensory convergence through drug and chemical addictions.

Russian composer Alexander Scriabin, himself a synesthete, featured an organ that produced multi-hued light beams in his symphony, Prometheus, the Poem of Fire.  In this way the composer allowed audiences to share in his neurological condition – they could literally see each sound in the same way he saw it.  (What do you think about that Shirley?  With each note a different hue of fire leaping up from the organ?) 

In a pre-scientific age, synesthesia was assumed to be a sign of mysticism and deep spirituality, but recent advances in brain imaging and electro-physiological recording is beginning to sort out just what distinguishes synesthetes from the rest of us.  Neurologist Richard Cytowic wrote a book in 1993 titled, The Man who Tasted Shapes, and it was that book which sparked renewed scientific interest in synesthesia. 

Now, other than a medical condition which would be wonderful for a new episode of House to explore, what does this have to do with the week of Epiphany and a wrap-up of 2006?  Well, precisely this: the most basic thing that binds people together socially is the confidence that we are seeing what everybody else sees.  “Do You See What I See?” is crucial for societal cohesion. We need to see the same thing.  We hear a synesthete’s description of music as blue, or a voice is like a yellow daffodil.  That’s odd, so we respond, “You’re experiencing things that aren’t there.  I don’t see the same thing.  You’re not seeing what I see, what normal people see.”

I wonder what the citizens of Bethlehem thought about what the shepherds saw?  The shepherds had an angelically-induced experience of multi-sensory convergence.  They heard the angels, and saw a flashing brilliance of light.  One can imagine that the shepherds, from that moment on, whenever they thought of that voice, also saw that light – sound and sight forever fused. 

And what is worship but a sharpening of the senses to see in sync, to see the same thing despite the many differences that characterize our lives when we walk into this sanctuary?  Together we wish to behold the glory of God in Christ, and to participate in an experience that unites us and lifts us above the vastly different experiences into which we will go when the benediction is said. In worship, recognizing that our spiritual senses may have become dull with the world’s cares, we seek to attain a spiritual vibrancy that responds in all of our senses to the touch of the Master’s bow.  That’s why worship, I think, should strive to be intentionally multi-sensory – hearing the Word in it’s many expressions, seeing the symbols of faith, touching and tasting through Holy Communion.

We don’t all see the same thing.  Not everyone hears praise music in the same way, or organ music.  The Doxology and the Lord’s Prayer doesn’t prompt the same reaction in everyone.  We don’t even feel the bread in the same way (some wait for me to press it into their hands, others take it with fingertips).  Often for our Catholic friends, taste and touch intentionally merge as the priest places the bread on the tongue, a sacramental experience of synesthesia.

In reviewing 2006, Did You See What I Saw?  The answer, often, is “No.”  We will not all have seen the world in the same way, nor certainly experienced the same things.  It’s been a tradition of mine for many years, on the last Sunday of the year to piece together a montage of images – some headlines and some by-lines, some world and some national and some local, some light and humorous and others heavy and serious, some relevant and some not at all relevant – but all packaged with the intent to offer you a theological perspective of 2006. 

And in looking at 2006 I wanted to emphasize how very differently we see.  I was reminded of this at the cash register of a local retail establishment a few weeks back.  The weeks just before Christmas are always hectic, getting those last eight or nine gifts for nieces and nephews and such, a project that can take hours.  Imagine my joy when I pointed out to Sherry a whole rack of gift cards from AMEX to Visa to a multitude of stores and restaurants.  And, miracle of miracles, she was tired enough to agree that these are wonderful gift ideas.  And why not?  I love such gifts.   Evidently many do, since gift cards are all the rage, setting phenomenal records this Christmas.  I was still ecstatic as Sherry and I approached the register, thinking of all the hours I would be saving, all those probing questions from Sherry – “Do you think this would look good on James?  How about this for Kenzell?”   A couple of hours of that would leave my eyes glazed over and Sherry upset at my insensitivity to her shopping dilemma.

So, I kid you not, I was beaming as I approached the check-out stand – no buggy needed, just a stack of gift cards easily carried by hand.  I was excited and wanted to say to the world, “Did you see what I saw?” 

That’s when I learned a lesson.  Not everybody saw what I did.  I might have been beaming, but the cashier was steaming.  I shouldn’t have said anything, but I was excited.  “Takes the joy right out of Christmas, if you ask me,” came her curt comment. 

Silence ensued.  “Maybe she’s right,” I thought.  Should I reconsider?  Should I sulk back to the rack, replace the cards, get a buggy and start shopping?  After a moment’s reflection, I shook myself to my senses and thought, “No way am I going to let her rob me of my joy!” 

With that image in mind fasten your seat belts folks, because here we go, 2006 from A to Z.  Get ready for a swift ride:

A – is for Ahmadinajad.  In 2006 we finally learned to pronounce his name.  Appropriate, I think, to begin on this note, for 2006 began and ended on the same note which seems to have characterized every year since 2001 – fear and terror never far from our minds.  Oh, and A is for American Idol (I’m almost embarrassed to say that I can’t wait for the new season, especially those early shows that bring out the Schadenfreude in me, as Simon tells so many contestants how really awful they are.

B – is for Bombers.  It’s been said that I leave behind, in places where I’ve been appointed by the bishop, a string of football champions.  Sure enough, there was Fordyce and Warren going to the playoffs this year, my last two appointments.  Add Mountain Home to that list.  Coach Patrick, I know you had a lot to do with that, but it’s my sermon, coach, so I’ll take what little sermonic credit I can!   And B is for Broken Bones.  In February Page had that, and when the District Superintendent called to tell me Mountain. Home was my destination, Page was one day home from the hospital and surgery. 

C – is for Christian Clinic.  I’ll not soon forget my initial tour with Dr. Wilbur, knowing that many rewarding and fulfilling moments of touching lives were ahead.  I am proud for our church’s involvement in the clinic, and for the many in our church whose volunteerism touches lives through the Clinic.  And C is for the Chancel Choir – week after week you touch our lives with sacred music.  And, oh my goodness, C has to be for the Capitol One Bowl.  What a year it’s been.  Strange though, I’ve noticed.  Even as Hog fans are beaming, we seem also to be steaming. 

D – is for Darfur.  With over 200,000 dead, it’s the forgotten story that’s hardly ever covered on the news, and for Duke University’s Lacrosse dilemma, which I have found quite the opposite -- a story incessantly covered that we would like to forget.

E – is for Elections, as a mid-term election brings sweeping changes to Capitol Hill.  Did You See what I Saw?  I won’t even go there.  Reminds me of two years ago, when on the Sunday before the presidential election I put in our bulletin a cartoon of a church about to take communion, at the moment when the pastor invites the congregation to Share the Peace.  There are two fellows sitting right next to each other, one wearing a Bush pin, the other a Kerry pin, looking suspiciously at the other, knowing that by Tuesday night one would be beaming and the other steaming.  The point is that in Christian felloship they found something to see together, something to transcend their differences.  Thank God for a government able to make such transitions through the ballot box.

F – is for the Fifth Anniversary of 9/11.  Who would have thought five years ago that we could go this long without another devastating attack on our soil?  And F is for President Gerald Ford, a former president whom our country is even now mourning.  We lost two former world leaders this week.  While we are celebrating the achievements of one and mourning his passing; much of the world is celebrating the passing of the other and mourning his achievements.   And F is for Forgiveness – one of the most amazing images of forgiveness emerged this year from an Amish Community in Pennsylvania, embracing the family of one of their own gone beserk to kill five little girls.  If your daughter had been among the killed or injured, Could You See As They Saw?

G is for Greece, where Sherry and I went in November, receiving an amazing gift from Educational Opportunities.  I’ve often said that a trip to the Holy Land is the equivalent of 1,000 Sunday School lessons, and I found the same true of this trip.  I learned more about Paul through feeling the texture of the land, than all my seminary years and years in ministry could have taught me in merely hearing.  That’s what pilgrimage is – a multi-sensory convergence.  And that leads me to H . . . 

H – is for the Holy Land.  In April I was invited to serve as a guide for fifty pilgrims from Conway, and will take some 85 people on March 14 (only one more seat available on Bus One!). And, H is for Heisman – a word not heard around Arkansas for a while, and for Hurricanes – the Year of Predicted Disasters that didn’t materialize.

I is for (what else?) Iraq.  What else, indeed? 

J, K, L is for Joy Fair, the Jeremiah Commission bringing back enthusiasm from the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection in (K) Kansas City, for the (L) Leadership Institute.  Joy Fair was a 5^th Sunday of Summertime excitement and challenge.  I was able to attend the Leadership Institute this October with a group from our church.  For the Johnsons, L is also for Lakes, as we are now surrounded by them, providing a new incentive to be excited about the coming Spring and Summer.  Oh, and L is for the Ludwig.  Randy’s pastoral gifts and love for this people have blessed  FUMC Mountain Home.  I am blessed for the opportunity to serve with Randy.  

M – for the Johnsons, M is for Mountain Home, our new home, and for the Messiah concert, for Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the High School Band gathering in the wee hours of the morning on Thanksgiving Day, yet savoring every moment which fashioned memories that will last a lifetime.  And M is for Mayor, as one of our own is, tomorrow, to occupy that office.

N – is for Nuclear North Korea, and potentially Nuclear Iran, two of the many stories from that other hemisphere which have the world walking unsteady on her feet just now.

O – is for Old Testament Structure, my inaugural study of the Tuesday Bible Study Series with another bearing down, beginning in five weeks. 

P – is for Pluto, which lost its planetary status this year, the biggest news for the solar system since the cow jumped over the moon, and for Pirates of the Caribbean, the year’s highest grossing movie which provided a bit of fun for many Mimis and Papas like Sherry and me.  And P is for Promotion Sunday, a time to celebrate our children and say thanks to our teachers as they journey toward our Youth Program.  Speaking of youth, P is for the Pergo Laminate floor in the Youth Room, a special gift from a special man.

Q – is for Quotes.  Each year I underline hundreds of quotes, and each year I seek to find a quote from the essays and books and sermons which I’ve read.  The quote I think most pertinent was found in a Paul Greenberg editorial in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette on November 15, as he quoted Andrew Wythe, who spoke of how he loved Fall and Winter, the bare bone structure of the landscape.  Wrote Wythe of Winter, “Something waits beneath it.  The whole story doesn’t show.”  Those words have lived with me for six weeks as a great theme for FUMC as we enter 2007.  Winter has stripped the trees and we see the bare bone landscape all around, but we have this feeling of future growth, a sense of spiritual expectancy in our church that, as we enter 2007, Something Waits Beneath It. 

R – is for Retirement, and our church office loses a wonderful church secretary this week to retirement.  Julie Williamson brought many skills to our church office, not the least of which was a profound love for the church.  Julie, we wish you the best in your retirement. 

S – is for Sixth Street Praise Band and our Saturday night service (two services providing a more extended reach into our community).  The Band, as we have heard today, gives so much of themselves in a labor of genuine love.  And S is for Stewardship.  Sam Rhoades led the Finance Committee in a well-organized Consecration period by which we enter 2007 with confidence. 

T – is for my Tigers getting Thumped in the World Series to the delight of my friend Hollye Cannon, who reminds me of it often, and for TiVo, a new thing in the Johnson home this year that changes the way we do entertainment, and for my friend TY, whom I introduced to you in November.  In trying to remember my favorite sermon, the most uniquely written of the year, it would be My Life with Ty, Son of Donum Dei.

U – is for the United Methodist Women, already getting started Tuesday on 2007, another year of service to God’s Kingdom.

V – is for Vacation Bible School, which was going on as we unpacked, providing an image of excited kids which was a welcome respite from lugging boxes.  And V is for Volunteers.  We could not be the church without you. 

W -  for the Johnson family, W is for the June Wedding of our daughter, Ashley, on the island of Turks and Caicos, as we welcomed Brad Wagnon into our family.  And, for the church family, W is Wednesday Night Fellowship, a new thing in September that has been a blessing to many and will be to many more.

X – is for “Xtra, Xtra, read all about it, a King is Coming to Town.”  What a thrill the children gave us in an awesome Christmas pageant.

Y – is for Youth and You-Tube (do any but the Youth know what that is?) and for You.   Did you realize that YOU are Time Magazine’s Person of the Year?

Z – is for the Bible Zone and, finally, as you shall see – for our newest members and the last new members of 2006, the Zochs.  Darrell and Gwen will be joining the church family in a few moments, and we welcome them with joy.

So there you have it.  2006 from A to Z.  Did You See What I Saw?   Fact is, we would all have written this sermon differently.  When it comes to reviewing a year, we are all synthesetes.  We all perceive differently.  And now 2007 is before us.  We don’t know how this sermon will be written next year.  But we do know that in any community, in any church, in any individual, there will be a mix of joy and pain, happiness and sadness, of beaming and steaming. 

Let us step into 2007 knowing that Something Waits Beneath It, and let us “see” this together – that whatever that Something is, we will be the family of God, together, embracing one another in love in a way that unites and strengthens and blesses.  God Bless, and Happy New Year!