One Simple Question

One Simple Question The Dover Church
November 22, 2007– Agape Thanksgiving Sunday
Scripture: Matthew 6: 25-33

Whenever I preach, my hope is that something I say will bring you to a magical point of connection and transformation, a place where the Good News of Jesus Christ connects with you where you are and then something new starts to happen. A tall order, I know, but that is my prayer.
This morning, I think that the connection and transformation I pray for hinges upon one simple question: where are you? This, my friends, is the question which I pray will meet you where you are in your busy, hectic, worrisome lives and then open you to the reality of that place Jesus describes, where you will be as the birds of air living in the present moment, or like the lilies of the field, just basking with your faces towards to sun and swaying in the breezes of life; where you will be set free from your cares, worries and frustrations, all the ups and downs, all the “should have beens” and “ought to be’s” and “gotta have more and do more’s”, all that falls away and you find God waiting there for you.
One simple question, where are you? On one side is where we are: anxious about our lives because they are set up to be a battle of the fittest, in which we have to push and claw our way towards what we want, lives in which we hold tight to the edge our anxieties give us for fear of getting run over by the competition. And on the other side of that question, this new life Jesus invites us into.
One simple question: where are you? On the one side is where we are: surrounded by webs of worry and care, starting with the pain in our back, moving outward to the challenges in your families, then to work and community, until finally you might reach out to bring something as enormous as global warming into your hearts and mind. And on the other side is this life in the Kingdom of God, confident of God’s love and providence both now and in the days to come.
One simple question: where are you? On the one side is where we are: thinking, if we are completely honest that Jesus’ vision is unrealistic, highly theoretical at best, a starry-eyed pipe dream, a Hallmark greeting Card but hardly Good News. You can’t work for Fidelity and be a lily of the field at the same time. And on the other side, living into the reality of the Kingdom of God and finding out that it was there all the time.
One simple question: where are you? On the side is where we are: with too much to think about and too many choices to make, so that we live confused and disjointed lives, not sure what we are doing or why. And on the other side, a life growing out of the one needful thing, in which there is a sense of completeness and harmony, shalom.
One simple question: where are you? It sounds crazy, I know, but this simple question helps me move beyond sacharine, wishful thinking, “wouldn’t it be nice?” faith into real new life. No matter what so many people outside the church might think about faith, it is not about wishful thinking. Faith, if it is about anything, is about God with us and for us where we really are. I confess that I am not there all the time, but this simple question has helped me and may help you see the Good News that Jesus speaks to us. This simple question has helped me and may help you live the Good News of Jesus Christ. Where are you?
Where are you? I do not ask this question hypothetically or rhetorically, but in utter seriousness. Where are you? Where does the rubber really hit the road in our lives, in your life? Seems simple enough, but I have found that I had to dig through a lot of extraneous stuff at first to start finding the answer. But this is how I do it. Whenever I am swimming in anxiety, whenever I am spiraling out of control and letting my life live me rather than the other way around, like the tail wagging the dog, I stop, take some time, and ask myself, what would I do today if today were my last day? What would I do today if today were my last day and that prospect did not swamp me with anxiety. If today was my last day and I could face that prospect cheerfully and with anticipation. What would I do? Where are you, Max?
That's what I thought about this week and I'll tell you what I came up with. It is not the correct answer, but it is my answer right now. I would want to be with my family, really present in heart and mind and not just going through the motions with my mind elsewhere, not playing trucks with the boys while I’m really making lists of things to do in my head or listening to Marie-Laure while I’m really writing my next sermon in my head. I'd play with the boys, see their pleasure in living, smell their hair and touch their faces and feel the new life coursing through their little bodies. I would want to hug and kiss my wife often, just to feel her in my arms and to smell her hair. I love the feel and smell of the people I love, my wife, the boys, even the dog. I'd want to have breakfast, lunch and dinner with them, not a feast, but just breaking bread together, delighting in each other's company, sharing our lives in this most basic way, enjoying the sight, smell, sound, taste and feel of the whole blessed thing. I would tell them all that I love them, that they have brought me great happiness, and that I wish them happiness and peace.
I would get up before the dawn to watch the sunrise through the trees, to see the glory of the new day. I would also want to go out at night with my wife and look at the stars. Watching the stars is one of the most awe inspiring and soothing things I know and Marie-Laure and I used to do this when we were dating, but now we’re busy making supper and putting the kids to bed. In between the sunrise and sunset, I would want to take the dog for a walk with Marie-Laure. I imagine myself breathing deeply, enjoying the feel of my body moving down the path and smelling the leaves on the ground and feeling the crisp breeze on my face, laughing at the pure pleasure on Ella's face as she poked around, following scents and chasing squirrels. If I could get some poetic leeway on this, I'd also like to go to the beach with my family and watch the sunset. For me, God seems so very close at sunrise, sunset, under the stars, and “moving over the face of the deeps” as the saying goes. But that's not all. I would like to fly fish for one last trout, not in the hopes of landing Leviathan who has eluded me this far, but because trout are just so beautiful and the places where they live delight me so. But there might not be time for that as I don't live near a trout stream or the beach. I do have woods for the dog walk, my kitchen window for sunrise, and stars for my wife and me, and that would be enough for me.
Not everyone I love is within my arm's reach, which is a shame and probably something I should have tried to remedy before now, but is a reality of modern life so I would have to make some phone calls. I would tell all of them that I love them and how much I have enjoyed sharing my life with them. I would apologize for the things I have done that have hurt them, ask them to forgive me, and I would tell those people who had hurt me that if it’s been bugging them not to be hung up on it any longer. If they’re already over it, good for them.
There are a few people whom I don't love, whom I have sinned against or who have sinned against me. Most of them are also not within my arm's reach (which is a good thing in this case, until you want to forgive and be forgiven). For them, I don't know what I would do; maybe write a letter addressed to all of them and give it to my wife in case any of them ever came around. Naw, that wouldn't be fair to Marie-Laure. I’m already leaving her with huge pile of books, fishing tackle and a kayak. But I would want to do something.
I would want my last day to be a Sunday because I would want to be here with you to worship the Lord our God together. Take today, for example. I love singing the hymns we sing on Thanksgiving, hearing the Word of God, sharing something important with you in a sermon, praying our prayers together, sharing the meal we are about to share, and wishing each other peace. That would be just right for me.
And that would be that. Other things crossed my mind, but they didn't stick. Sure, I have hopes and dreams for the future and I assure I am working on making those dreams come true. But not today. I could do everything I mentioned in one day and it would be exactly what I wanted to do with my last day. That is where I am, where the rubber hits the road in my life. And that amazed me. Why? I was amazed by how much fell by the wayside, all the things which usually occupy my mind on a daily basis. I was amazed by how the prospect of a day like delightful seemed to me, something to truly look forward to. I was amazed that everyone and everything in that day has been a gift to me, from God if you like, but certainly not something I achieved. It's all a gift, the important parts of my life: family, love, life, friendship, worship, community, creation, simple food, forgiveness, an occupation. It's all a gift, God's grace, and it has been mine to share. I was amazed because it’s all about love, Agape, this strange and inexplicable outpouring of love in our lives, flowing at us and through us towards others. Wow! God in Jesus Christ is right. And finally, I was amazed to realize that all of it is already at my fingertips. When I think about how much of it I have known, then I know that God has truly been most generous with me and I wonder why I have put off living this way every day.
And so, this Thanksgiving I ask you, where are you? What is important to you? Are you living as if it were? Why not? Give it a try and be amazed. This is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Amen.