I’m preaching at a nearby church this Sunday as a guest preacher. Here’s the sermon I’ll give if you’re interested…

An exceprt:

“Do you know…” is the phrase that sticks out to me today, that phrase that the disciples say to Jesus after he tells those gathered around him that what comes out of their mouths is sharper than most any sword.  “Do you know…” rings in my head and it may partly be because it’s so often repeated in my house. 

My son Finn, all of 10 years old, loves facts.  Random facts. Facts that take up mighty precious space in my brain the minute he says them to me, and get lodged in there, displacing other, more important things that I continually forget.

Facts like most people cannot lick their elbow.

Facts like alligators can’t stick out their tongues.

Facts like horses sleep while standing, though they can also sleep laying down, so never assume a horse is dead.

Facts like sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins, and that ladybugs normally have seven spots, and that mosquitos are attracted to the color blue…

After this morning, should you take nothing from the sermon, most of you will remember that last one I bet.

“Do you know…” is a forceful way to start a sentence because it’s less of a question and more of a statement that says, well, I’m about to impart some knowledge on you whether you like it or not, knowledge that will likely take up space in your brain rent free.

And maybe that’s the other reason why this small, short line sticks out to me in this very generous reading from Matthew’s Gospel, maybe it’s because people have sometimes said this to me much the same way that the disciples are saying it to Jesus.

“Do you know you made people angry today with what you said?” I heard that one after a good number of sermons, Beloved.  Might even hear it today. Who knows.

“Do you know so-and-so is saying such-and-such about you?”

“Do you know how disappointed I am in you?”

My gut response to these kinds of “Do you know…” statements is something like, “And do you know that I don’t care?!”

But I do care.

I do care, and I know I care because these kind of “Do you know…” statements, much like those useless facts, also takes up precious space in my crowded brain and I hear them more loudly than I do other statements like, “Do you know how nice you are? Do you know how loved you are? Do you know you’re a precious child of God above all the other things people call you?”

Do You Know…?