WHAT WE HAVE IS WHAT IS IMPORTANT

Every morning when I crawl, and I mean “crawl” out of bed, I am reminded that I am getting older, that, in fact, I am old even as I rebel against that thought and truth. Of course, it is better than the alternative. But that is something else both to think about and to give thanks for even as the bones creak and the muscles refuse to relax. Once upon a time, and not too long ago at that, getting out of bed was easy.

As we grow older, we lose much of what we once had both physically and mentally. I can no longer do well what I used to do well. The body simply will not allow it. There are also some abilities I once had that are lost forever. I used to run. Okay, jog. I can no longer do that now that I have two false hips. I cannot reach as high as I once did as I have lost an inch or so as my body succumbs to the realities of aging.

Mentally I am not as sharp as I once was. I am not as quick to recall a name or even remember what I had for breakfast. I want to attribute that not to approaching some form of dementia but to the fact that my brain is like a computer that has no delete function. It is simply getting fuller and fuller each day and, as a result, it takes me longer to retrieve something from all that memory. Works for me!

Growing older means we lose much of what we once had and even what we once were. Many people who are retired seem to lose a sense of worth because they are no longer known for what they did. They greet us with an “I used to be....” But we all used to be something. But that does not mean that we are now nothing. Growing older simply means finding out who we now are right now.

Mitch Albom in The Time Keeper puts the issue very clearly. “We all yearn for what we have lost. But sometimes, we forget what we have.” So true. We cannot get back what we have lost. It is lost. It is gone forever. We live in a fantasy world if we believe we can get it back. There are hucksters out there who are trying to sell us the illusion that we can be what we once were. They have miracle cures and wonderful remedies and the latest equipment to enable us to regain our lost youth or whatever it is that we seem to long for and would like to have back.

But that is a waste of time and certainly a waste of money if we go down that road. And while we are wasting precious time in the present longing for or chasing after that which is lost, as Albom reminds, we forget what we have. What we have is life even if that life is a little slower, bringing with it sore muscles and a different physical shape that we once worked so hard to attain but which is now gone with the wind.

What is important as we grow older, or at any stage of life, is to be aware of what we have right now: those many God-given gifts. And they are many. As I sit at the edge of my bed, dealing with the muscles rebelling against what I want to do next, namely stand up, I need to be thankful that I can stand, that I have a wonderful family who love me and that I am getting up precisely to use those God-given gifts and talents that still remain to see, seek and serve the Jesus I meet in everyone who crosses my path today.

WISDOM

Barbara Brown Taylor in her book An Altar in the World says this about wisdom: “Wisdom is not gained by knowing what is right. Wisdom is gained by practicing what is right, and noticing what happens when that practice succeeds or fails.” She is absolutely right, of course. She is not saying something that we do not know or understand. She is simply noting a truth that we often overlook or take for granted.

As we grow up our parents and teachers try to teach us what is right. They gave us rules and commandments to follow. They told us stories about their own experiences when they had to learn the hard way, the mistakes they made that were painful enough to insure they did not make them again. We listened to what they taught, stored their examples in the back of our minds hoping that, should we ever find ourselves in a similar situation, we would not make the same mistake they did.

Then when we did find ourselves in such a situation, what did we do? Did the lesson that was taught prevent us from making the mistake the teacher recounted? Did the commandment that told us not to do something prevent us from not doing it? Did the rule that was taught guide us to do what was taught when the situation arose to actually follow that rule?

The answer: sometimes yes and sometimes no. As Taylor notes, it was only when we actually did or did not do what we were taught to do that we actually learned the lesson that was taught. It became part of who we are. Knowing what to do and not to do does not make us wise. Wisdom in and of itself is meaningless. Wisdom only becomes meaningful when we put it into practice, when we live it.

As Taylor further notes, we learn both when we follow what we have been taught and when we fail to do so. In fact, I would opine that we learn more from our failures to follow what we have been taught that when we actually do. We learn more from breaking a commandment than from keeping it. That is not to say that we should deliberately break any of the commandments, disobey the rules of the house, so that we can learn what happens when we do. Learning the hard way often teaches us more than simply accepting the truth and following it.

On the other hand, we learn just as much after doing what were told, practicing what we were taught. The point is that we need to be just as attentive in noticing what we have learned in doing what was right as we are certainly attentive in noticing what we have learned when doing what was wrong. Wisdom comes from being attentive to what we have learned in living out what we have been taught.

Wisdom is not so much about book-learning or lessons taught to us by others, Wisdom is about putting into practice what we have been taught and learning from such experiences. We have an obligation to teach what we have learned to those who come after us; yet, like us, they will have to become wise in the same way we have: by practicing or failing to practice what they have been taught.

FATE, PROVIDENCE OR DUMB LUCK

Several weeks ago I had the privilege of officiating at my niece’s wedding. It was a grand and glorious affair if I must say so myself. During my short homily I was reflecting on the fact that almost the first words out of God’s mouth in Genesis is that it is not good for we human beings to be alone and that there is an innate drive in each one of us to find that special someone with whom we can share the rest of our lives – unless we choose otherwise, as do monastics and others.

How we find that person, I said, can be very interesting. Dominique and Quentin, the bride and groom, found each other on a blind date. Q’s parents met in a nightclub. Nique’s parents met at a bar. Nique’s Aunt met her husband walking the family dog. Her brother met his wife in college. Her cousin and her husband were high school sweethearts. Arlena and I met in church.

Was it fate that brought these couples together? Or was it the providence of God or simply dumb luck? I would have never met Arlena if she had not transferred from Good Shepherd in Parkersburg to Trinity in Parkersburg where I was called to be Rector. Would Nique and Q have met had they not gone out on that blind date? Would my sister and Dennis have ever met had there not been a big Saint Bernard that needed walking? What was it that brought all of us together?

Does it really matter expect for the fun it might be, in fact is, in speculating what our lives might now be like had we not been brought together by whatever it was that we believe brought us together? Personally, I have always attributed Arlena’s and my meeting to providence. My brother Fran might conclude that it was dumb luck. The night before Arlena arrived in church I was complaining to Fran that I was tired being alone. His reply: “Don’t worry. She’ll fall out of a tree!”

The point is that it really does not matter how two people meet. What matters is what happens after the meeting takes place. That is true not only when it comes to finding a relationship as in marriage. It is true any time in any place. We can always speculate about what brings people together. Sometimes it is mutual interest. Sometimes it is simply being in the same place at the same time. What is then important is where that relationship goes from there.

There are many, many times in life when the opportunity presents itself for us to meet another, others. Even if it is fate or providence or dumb luck that opens that door for us to walk through to meet and greet, we still have to walk through that door. Someone has to make the first move and sometimes it is mutual. I put the move on Arlena after church. She responded. She could have walked away. I’m thrilled she did not. Again, whatever it is that brings people together is, in the end, unimportant. What is important is what we do once we have come together.

WHO'S WHO: DOES ANYONE CARE?

While visiting, Nany, Arlena’s Mom, last week, I noticed a book on her desk through Readers Digest. It is titled Who’s Who in the Bible. It is an alphabetical list of every person mentioned in both the Old and New Testaments. It begins with Aaron (the brother of Moses) and ends with Zophar (a friend of Job – although calling Zophar a “friend” is a stretch given that what Zophar does is call Job a liar and a sinner because Job won’t admit that his/Job’s sins are the reason why he/Job is suffering so much. But I digress.)

There looks to be at least a thousand names listed in the almost-450-page book. I simply leafed through it, sort of proud of myself that I recognized most of the names even if I could not remember exactly who they were or in what context I would find them. I left the book on the desk even as it was calling out to me to ask      Nanny if I could borrow it so that I could spend some serious time with it.

The men and women whose lives are recorded in that book are my spiritual ancestors or certainly had an influence on that inheritance. Just as it is fun, interesting and even important to learn about one’s physical ancestors, so, too, I think, it is important to learn about those who are the background of our spiritual life even if at a distance of several thousand years.

Yet, my leaving the book on the desk certainly makes it seem as if I really don’t care all that much about all those people, especially given the fact that I am retired and certainly can find the time to spend some time reading and re-learning about them. The even sadder part is that I am not alone in this “I could care less” boat. My suspicion is that most of us, while we think learning about all these spiritual ancestors would be interesting, we have better things to do.

The truth is that we learn as much, if not more, from the past than we do from the present, if – and that is a big “if” – we are willing to make and take the time to do so. Life is a learning process from the day we are born to the day we die. If we can learn from someone else’s successes and failures, we can save ourselves not only a lot of heartache but also a lot of effort that could be of better use to us and to those we love.

As people of faith we should care about those who have gone before, who have much to teach us about how to live and how not to live, about how to be faithful and about what can happen to us when we are not. Yet, as history so often teaches us, we, as a people, seem to be intent on learning not from history, not from the past, but learning the hard way by making our own mistakes. What fools we are!

The next time we visit Nanny I think I will ask to borrow the book. She’ll probably wonder why I would need to read the book, why I would care to read it, as I suspect she assumes I know what’s in it given my vocation. If she only knew!

WHAT WE REALLY HAVE TO FEAR

In his first inaugural address in the midst of the Depression Franklin Roosevelt asserted that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself”. That was, in its own way, quite true back then. When we live in fear, we are stymied. We cannot move ahead. Fear of the next bad thing, fear of the unknown begins to control our lives. And when we allow outside forces, fears, to be in charge, it is like living in hell. It is living in hell.

Of course, there have always been fear-mongers over the years, those who would have us believe that we are never safe anywhere, not even in our own homes hiding underneath our own beds. They have their own agendas for propagating fear, always for self-serving motives. They tell us they are concerned for our safety, our well-being, but they are only concerned about themselves and, of course, their power. For if someone can make us live in fear, that person has control over us.

That is certainly true today. Home-delivered pizza sales are up seemingly because people are now afraid to go out to eat even if most of us go out to eat more than we should because we eat too much when we do so. But, then, pizza is not exactly the most nutritious meal even if it is eaten at home. Compounding this fear are years of reading about Columbine, Oklahoma City, Sandy Hook, Orlando – the list goes on.

The truth is, however, that there is only one person we have to fear, really fear. That is the person who looks back at us in the bathroom mirror, the only person who controls our very life. Yes, we can listen to those who want us to be afraid of the dark, of the darkened theaters and dance halls, of the enclosed classrooms and of those who disguise themselves in dark clothing. If we want to give into that fear, they win and we lose.

We are in control of our fears. Yet the real fear that we should have as a Christian is not what others can or might do to us. It is what we can and might do to others, not with guns, not with violence, not in the dark or hiding behind false motives. Rather what we must fear is that we will hurt the ones we love in doing and saying unloving actions and words. That is what we truly have to fear.

Those who have committed and those who commit atrocious crimes against humanity were and are mentally unstable. Our failure as a society is to help such people get help instead of turning our backs on them and turning them out into the streets where their illness only gets worse, their fears only compound and they set off to somehow try to get even for what they perceive as a total lack of love by those who should love them the most. By then it’s too late to redeem their lives.

Is that putting too much blame on each of us individually? Probably. Yet the point is that when we fail to love others with all our heart and mind and strength and will, we only compound the fears of those we hurt. That is what we should fear.

IN DEFENSE OF TRIUMPHALISM -- SORT OF

The concluding verse of Matthew's Gospel commands us to make disciples of all people, baptizing them in the name of the Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. That is the mission of the Church. There is no disagreement about that. There is a disagreement, however, on emphasis. Roy Poindexter, writing many years ago, asked a rather pointed question. To wit:

           

"Why do we always seem to be trying to guide our thinking by the version of the Great Commission in the gospel of Matthew? In the last chapter of John's gospel is another version. There, instead of a priestly pronouncement about authority, recruitment, liturgical procedures, and triune doctrinairism, is a passionate cry that we prove our love for God by feeding his sheep. The former has too often meant conquest and triumphalism. The latter promises to nourish life, and might be better received by a world that feels exploited. Let's try starting with John's version for a change."

           

Well, okay. I remember years ago in seminary, in the 60's, the decade of social upheaval and unrest, when many of my colleagues were leaving seminary to go into social work. One of my professors, aghast and upset at this mass exodus to work in the inner cities, complained in a sermon: "A priest is more than a glorified social worker."

           

Well, okay. But a priest is also much more than the glorified high priest we were all being taught to become. There has to be a balance between triumphalism and service. All triumphalism and no service leaves Jack hungry. All social action and no triumphalism – here in the form or worship and mission – leaves Jack fat.

           

Jack, and you and I, need a little of both. We are nourished and fed through our worship and our mission not so that we can be self-satisfied, but so that we can go out and serve others and help satisfy their needs. We need to be fed in order to feed sheep.

           

It is easy to become triumphalistic, to get fat, to be self-satisfied. The Church of the 50's and 60's was just such a Church. It did not know how to respond to social unrest because it had been caught up in itself. Today, it sometimes seems the opposite: all the church is interested in is in the social arena. There has to be a balance.

           

The balance is struck when we realize that we gather as a community to worship, study, share, be in community so that we can go out to serve. It is not enough, however, to either worship or serve. Those who are served are also missing something: a community to be part of. We often overlook the fact that the many we are called to serve need more than a helping hand. They need and want to be part of a loving community that will nourish and nurture them as the community itself is nourished and nurtured in worship and service.

           

Triumphalism: "authority, recruitment, liturgical procedures, and triune doctrinism" is one side of the coin. The other side is that "we prove our love for God by feeding his sheep," clothing the naked, visiting the sick and lonely, and bringing them into a community. Both are equally important.

GOOD, BETTER, BEST

If the truth were told, we are good people: people in general, not just the people we know or who go to our church. That might be true, probably is true, but that is getting ahead of myself. Suffice it to say, at least at the beginning, that people are good.

We are good because God created us and God does not create anything that is of its very essence not good. To be sure, good people do bad things. Good people take the good of creation and do bad with that good. A good person takes a good rock and throws it through a good window. The rock and the window will always remain good; the thrower has become less than good for the moment.

What we are good at, we good people, is in the living out of our faith. Some would call it "the practicing of our faith," probably because we never ever get it truly and totally right. There are always those rock-throwing incidents in the lives of each one of us. That is called sin. We are never totally freed from sin in this life. So we good people who do a good job in living out, in practicing our faith, all know that we can be better.

           

We can always be better no matter how good we are. We can always be better because we all fall short of perfection, of being the best, of never being able to be better because we have reached the summit of being good. That is an unreachable and an unattainable goal even if it is a goal that we each strive after.  Our goal in life as a Christian, or as anything else for that matter, is not to be simply good enough, or better than the next person, but to be the best even as the best will never be perfect.  Whether that "best" is the best we can be or simply the very best is not the point.

           

It is easy, of course, to take another and even take ourselves to task for our failures to be less than the best, for only being good enough or better than most. It is easy for me to stand in the pulpit and point out failures and shortcomings – sin. It is also easy to be satisfied with who we already are. To emphasize one or the other is wrong and will get us nowhere. It certainly won't help us grow into a better person, into a person who strives to be the person God created us to be.

Just who is that person? What does s/he look, think, act like? That’s the question, isn’t it? That is why we need to constantly examine our lives, how we are living out our faith. The point is not to remind us that we are failures. The point and the purpose is to help us understand that practicing our faith involves our whole being and our whole life and that by being attentive to that being and to the various parts of our life, we good people will find ways to become better, better in every way.

           

There is a lot we know about how to practice, live out, our faith. Not to pat ourselves on the back, but we are already doing a good job, if you will. But there is even more that we do not know. There is more that we should know. We know that, do we not? No one can make us learn more or practice harder. What we also know is that good always wants to become better and better is never satisfied with anything less than the best. That is what we strive for each and every day.