The Bungee Cord. 2-13-22

Hello,

When I was a kid, it was a special treat to get in the car and go to Westmont, Illinois, a town a couple of towns away from ours, Hinsdale, and go to McDonald’s. McDonald’s were just making their way into the Chicago area and to eat at one was a new adventure. Hamburgers were small and $.15. Fries were a dime, and a strawberry shake was 20 cents. (I admit, I had to look the prices up.) My folks would each get a hamburger. My brother and I would split one. We’d get two fries to share among the four of us, and the real treat was the two strawberry shakes that we’d all share. My dad would walk into the glass front building with the golden arches on both sides, bring our meal back to us in a paper bag, and we would sit in our car and enjoy some fine dining.

But my how McDonald’s has changed. Its menu has expanded, its burgers are bigger (I remember when the quarter pounder came out…what a thrill!), and its prices have risen, a lot! The buildings are much more impressive, even offering wifi for customers. But something else has changed. A couple of weeks ago, I stopped in at a McDonald’s after not having to been to one in a number of years, and I was caught off guard. There was no one at a register to take my order with a smile saying, “How can I help you today?” Instead, there were several kiosks with video screens where I was to place my order, screens that were a bit confusing to me with their directions, but no one around to give me any aid. I floundered my way through the ordering process, and when I had paid with my credit card (I think it would have taken cash, but I couldn’t figure that out either), I got a number to identify my order. I was supposed to select a seat, although I don’t think I did that right either, and then wait at my numbered seat for my food to be brought out to me. There were few people there, so in spite of the fact that I was not seated at my appropriate spot, a person found me, asked me of my number and then, without another word, placed my meal in front of me.

The thing that most startled me was that I almost got my meal without seeing a single human being. If my meal had been simply placed on the counter, and my number called to pick it up, that is what would have happened. My how things have changed. We now live in a world where human contact is disappearing. For a long time, we have just been a number in our governments world (SSN). When I went to the University of Illinois with tens and thousands of students, my test scores were posted with my ID number. With the anonymity of the internet, we are known by our telephone number. But I never dreamt of the day that I would have no human interaction at a McDonald’s, and I would be nothing more than a number on a Kiosk screen.

Being a number with no human contact doesn’t feel very good to me. It makes me feel like nothing more than one of a million items at the end of an assembly line. As a number, I feel no more treasured than a grain of sand on a beach. I have no reason to believe that the number giver cares anything at all about me; my struggles, my joys, my hopes, my dreams. Never seeing a face or shaking a hand brings on a chill of isolation and loneliness. After all, who cares about a number?

The amazing thing about our God is that to God I am not a number, and neither are you. When I consider the myriads of people who have walked this earth, let alone the vastness of the universe, God would have me know that I am a treasure to him. Unlike the McDonald’s, God does not hide behind the counter of heaven and keeps our encounters to an uncaring kiosk. No, God has stepped into human presence as a human who stretches out his arms on a cross and says, “I love you this much.” And God embraces us, one by one, with that cross born love when baptismal waters splash upon us, waking us up to God’s claim on us, “You are mine.” And he offers us more than just a smile and a handshake as he invites us weekly to a banquet table of pure grace saying, “this is my body…this is my blood…for YOU.”

For some, such a God is too hard to believe in. How could it be that God would care about the sub-atomic speck of the universe that you and I are. Admittedly, it is something that is hard for me to believe. But just as a human parent who is determined to have their child know that they mean everything to them, so God keeps on loving us with divine and unconditional love until we live our lives transformed with hope in God’s care for us.

The world, for the sake of profit, speed, precision, and ease may be turning away from human interaction. But God doesn’t care about profit, speed, precision, and ease. God cares about you and me, so God will keep on turning God’s face to us in love and embracing us with Jesus’ grace and mercy. Thanks, God!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Like

Comment

Share