Larry Motz was a legend in my hometown of Green, Ohio. High school students longed to be in his advanced English class, not because they loved the tough assignments, but because they loved who Mr Motz was and how he treated students. Mostly they loved how he made them see the world. I often remember lessons I learned from Mr Motz.

He cut a unique figure in our blue collar community. Our school was surrounded by farms, yet Mr. Motz wore double-breasted suits and cufflinks. One of the things I remember best about Mr Motz is his awareness of us. He greeted everyone in his class by shaking our hands and referred to us by our last names. “Good morning, Miss Snider,” is what I heard. I couldn’t imagine him calling me Geitra anymore than I would dream of calling him Larry! He taught us all the importance of a good handshake and making eye-contact. 

That might seem formal or outdated. But in a time when young adults had few outlets for their unique voices, Mr Motz paid us the honor of knowing us and hearing us. In his class, while we studied literature and discussed current events, Mr Motz taught us the importance of knowing, of hearing. of perceiving.

One special technique Mr Motz used to challenge our perceptions was to change some object in his room every week and encourage us to find the new thing. Maybe a plant had moved, or a new picture was added. We were expected to perceive our surroundings with an intentional awareness that has remained with many of his students (just ask another of Mr Motz’s pupils, my husband Neil). 

I think of Mr. Motz, who later became an Episcopal priest, when I read this text from Isaiah:

Thus says the Lord,
    who makes a way in the sea,
    a path in the mighty waters,
 who brings out chariot and horse,
    army and warrior;
they lie down, they cannot rise,
    they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
Do not remember the former things,
    or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
    now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
    and rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43: 16-19

God says to us through the voice of the prophet, “Do you not perceive it?”  Something has changed; something is new. Can’t you see what God is doing all around you? If you don’t, it could be because you’re not looking close enough. 

This is what comes to mind for me, when I think about our January worship series, “What’s New?” Just like we had assignments in Mr Motz’s class, we have a role in bringing forth God’s “new thing.” 

God tells us, “Don’t remember the former things, or consider the things of old, I am about to do a new thing.” I don’t think that means to disregard the past, so much as learn from it. We are encouraged to move forward into what’s new. This is undoubtedly what Mr Motz was open to when he took ordination and moved from being Mr Motz to becoming Father Larry. A new thing, indeed.

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for “a new thing,” too. I pray for God’s healing to come over our people and our land in 2021. I don’t want to cling to the despair and disappointments we’ve known, but look with faith and hope for the newness that God is bringing forth all around us. 

I hope you’ll join me, and we’ll journey out of the desert together, with God as our guide calling our names.