Something Is Happening
What if faith asks us not to expect a particular future, but to anticipate that God is still at work? In creation something is always happening—and Scripture invites us to pay attention with curiosity and wonder. Rather than deciding in advance what God should do, we are called to become people who can receive, notice, and participate in the new life God is bringing to birth.
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Transcript
We often use expectation and anticipation interchangeably.
But they aren’t quite the same thing.
Expectation holds a degree of: I’ve already decided what is going to happen. We expect the package to arrive based on its tracking information. We expect a menu item to be the same each time we order it. We hold expectations of events to go a certain way,
or for people to act a certain way.
Expectation has already established a picture of the future.
Which can be helpful…
Expectation helps us plan. It helps us organize. It can help us problem solve. But expectation can also make us bad at noticing what is actually happening. Because expectation can often become looking for confirmation or validation. There it is. That’s what I thought would happen. I knew it.
But anticipation differs in a key way.
Anticipation says: something is coming.
But it doesn’t necessarily say what.
It leaves room: room for surprise, room for curiosity, room for delight.
I think that’s a gift of these readings on this last Sunday of
our series on honoring God in creation.
Not expectation, but anticipation.
Because all through these readings, something is happening.
Something is coming.
And we’re invited to pay attention, to participate.
In Ezekiel, the prophet is shown something,
and asked, “have you seen this?”
He is being invited to look, to wonder.
And then Ezekiel notices:
the river is bringing life, there are trees along its banks,
the trees’ leaves are vibrant, the trees’ fruit is plentiful.
Something is happening in this place.
Ezekiel is there to witness it, to see it, to take notice.
Our psalms always help with this.
Because creation is astonishing.
Our psalms often point to:
look at what is here, look at what exists, look at what God has made.
These past few weeks, our readings and prayers,
have in a way been encouraging a recovery of wonder.
Wonder as a posture of receptivity.
The willingness to look at something long enough to realize
you don’t completely understand it.
The willingness to encounter something without trying to make sense of it.
The willingness to say:
I don’t know. Tell me more.
This makes me uncomfortable. Why might that be?
What am I seeing? What is happening here?
That kind of wonder is not childish.
It’s actually a mature, faithful response.
The older we get, the more we tend to live by expectation.
We think we know how things work and what people are like. We know what will happen next or what our lives should look like. But when something happens that doesn’t fit…
a door opening, a door closing,
a joy we didn’t know was possible, unexpected car troubles.
Our expectations aren’t met and so we react.
Which brings us to the letter to the Romans.
“The whole creation has been groaning in labor pains.”
Labor pains mean that something hurts.
Labor pains also mean something is coming.
Creation is groaning because creation is not finished.
The world as it is is not the whole story.
The suffering is real.
The grieving is real.
The uncertainty is real.
But creation is waiting.
Creation is laboring.
Creation is reaching toward something not yet seen.
It is longing, it is anticipating.
Expectation has a way of controlling the future.
Expectation has a way of telling us what should happen,
or what the answer should be…
what God ought to do, what the church ought to do,
what the world ought to become or look like.
Because, then, when reality doesn’t match our expectation,
we can decide that something has gone wrong.
Anticipation says: something is coming, I may not know what. But I’m going to pay attention, I’m going to make room.
In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus says:
“Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.” The whole creation. Go. Pay attention. Participate. Proclaim good news.
We’ve spent this past month or so talking about creation…
considering the ways in which we inhabit the world.
To look at another creature and remember:
This creature is also a part of creation.
To look at another human being and remember:
This person is beloved.
To look at our own bodies and remember:
This body is not a machine I manufactured.
I received it. I inhabit it. It is changing all the time.
To notice that the world is not an object sitting outside of us.
We are inside it. It is inside us. We are participants.
Being called to be God’s partners in creation does not mean
we have to know exactly what God is doing.
We learn to notice what God is already doing.
Ezekiel sees the river.
The psalmist doesn’t make the heavens. The psalmist looks up. Paul doesn’t ignore the groaning or pretend it isn’t happening. He listens.
Jesus doesn’t tell the disciples to control and stifle creation.
He sends them into it.
God doesn’t need us to manage creation into existence.
God invites us to participate in what God is already bringing to life. But that requires receptivity.
You cannot be receptive if you’ve already decided what you want to see. You cannot be surprised if you’re desperately looking for an explanation. You cannot hear what is being said if you’re already thinking up an answer. You cannot notice new life if you’ve already concluded
things will always be as they are.
Again and again, Scripture points to something simpler:
Pay attention. Be curious. Look again.
Be open to what is happening.
Ask where life is appearing.
Listen to where creation is groaning.
Maybe most importantly: leave room to be surprised.
If we believe that God is still creating, then we should anticipate surprise. The future is something God is bringing toward us.
And it can be frightening, not knowing exactly what to expect. But that is what can be wonderful.
Wonder makes room for what we don’t yet know.
Wonder says:
I don’t know what is coming.
But I’m willing to see it when it arrives.
I’m willing to receive it.
Maybe I’ll be changed by it.
We know some things.
We know that creation is beautiful.
We know that human beings aren’t perfect.
We know that Jesus sends us into the world with good news.
Something is coming.
Something is already happening.
We do not know exactly what will become.
So let’s not close our eyes because we think we already know.
Let us not rush to fill silence or uncertainty with our answers.
Let us become people who can receive.
People who can notice.
People who can wonder.
People who can participate, respond:
Look. Something is happening.
God is not finished.
And then, with our eyes open and our hearts receptive,
let us step into what God is bringing to life.
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Brandon Nonnemaker
September 6, 2026