Fall--what a lovely season—do any of you like the color
orange as much as I do?
Fall is misleading. Did you know that leaves are not
naturally green? Leaves are naturally yellow, and red, and orange. When the
leaf system starts producing chlorophyll, the leaves turn green. Green is their
false self, we might say. In autumn, the leaves drop their mask and emerge as
they really are.
Did you also know that decay is not the only activity going
on in autumn? Fall is also the season when seeds are scattered, so that
there will be new growth in the spring. A lovely little joy is hidden in plain
sight.
In her song “Leaves Don’t Drop, They Just Let Go” singer
Carrie Newcomer builds on this little joy hidden in plain sight when she
writes:
Leaves don’t drop, they just let go,
And make a place for seeds to grow.
Every season brings a change,
A tree is what a seed contains,
To die and live is life’s refrain.
What Newcomer is singing about is that any event in our life
is simply a moment to be received—including the ones we label “crisis” and
“difficult” and even “sad.”
What I have observed is than an event gets labeled a crisis
when we don’t choose the change that’s being offered; when change is thrust
upon us like a divorce or the loss of a job and income. When you and I CHOOSE
change we label the event an OPPORTUNITY. Either way change moves us
along—hopefully. If we are SPIRITUALLY awake, or alert, we understand that
there’s no end or even death, there’s only movement. In every event there is an
invitation to let go of something—and take hold of something else---so that
we can become GOD’S MORE.
Isn’t this the heart of the story of the resurrection of
Jesus? In order to become God’s MORE for US, he had to let go of his life.
Isn’t this what he teaches us? Jesus says, “For those who want to save
their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find
it.” In order for us to become God’s MORE for the world, we have to
first let go of our life on our terms; the “My Way”, the ego, and embrace life
on God’s terms—deep listening through prayer and knowledge of the scriptures,
and good works; justice for our neighbor. Second we eventually have to let go
of our earthly bodies and relationships and move on to the next experience God
has planned for us.
An image that might work for us this morning is that of the
handle bars, which used to be a common sight on the playground. (photo) In
order to play on this toy successfully, a child must create a rhythm whereby he
and she releases one handlebar while at the same time reaches for the next, so
that they move forward, or flow.
If the child becomes paralyzed by fear or doubt and doesn’t
release his and her grip on the current handlebar, the momentum is lost and the
handlebars are no longer in reach. The child is at a standstill; frozen. This
is not how the game is supposed to be played—and frozen is no way for the
human soul to live--even when life presents overwhelming obstacles.
What the Holy Spirit of God desires is a flow, a rhythm, a
partnering, and letting go and a reaching for—which often is
produced by a crisis. Jesus says in his sermon on the mount, “Blessed are those
who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (NRSV) Read in The Message Version we
hear, “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lot what is most dear to you. Only
then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”
There’s a whole new world when we reach for the One most dear
to us—a world where we shine from the inside out—as God tends to us—and the
world gets improved upon—because we tend to it.
In order to enter this new world we cannot get hung up on the
events in our daily life; both opportunity and crisis. We cannot be afraid of
change—whether we choose it, or it chooses us.
Leaves don’t drop, they just let go,
And make a place for seeds to grow.
Every season brings a change,
A tree is what a seed contains,
To die and live is life’s refrain.
This coming Tuesday I am getting on an airplane and flying to
Lexington, Kentucky, where my sister, Gene Carol, will pick me up and take me
to see our mother. Her name is Dana Ruth Williams, and she’ll be 86 years old
on Thursday.
My mother is someone I esteem as a “holy resilient.” (A term
created by Presbyterian pastor and author Steve Doughty.) A holy resilient
is someone who has managed to become God’s MORE in the face of difficult
circumstances: MORE loving, generous and kind—anything on that list of spiritual
gifts that the Apostle Paul refers to in his letter to the church at Galatia,
which are Christ-like.
She has endured the depression, an abusive husband who died
at sea, a divorce, single parenting, bankruptcy, poverty, a child with a
severe, chronic mental illness, gossip, isolation, depression which required
hospitalization, the prolonged decline and death of her second husband, the
death of her sister, angioplasty, and her own declining health.
To know her is to know great kindness, encouragement, a
strong will to live and a joy for life, patience, and faith. Seems like a
contradiction, doesn’t it? Most people would say, “If this is the best God can
do—I’m not interested.”
Another “holy resilient” I’ll call Beverly called me
one day to talk about her recent trip to the Holocaust Museum in Washington,
D.C. “I read a most interesting plaque,” she said to me, “About the percentage
of Jews who managed to move beyond their tragic experience in the Nazi prison
camps and embrace life, and become radiant persons---and the percentage of
those who became the exact opposite—dark, closed, bitter.”
Beverly, who was diagnosed with a crippling chronic illness when
her children were very, very young, and which has thrown her family into
medical bankruptcy, asked me, “Why do you think that is?”
“Well,” I said to her, “Look at your own life. “Your mother
struggled with a chronic mental illness and married many husbands who raped you
and your sister repeatedly, and then she abandoned both of you at age 18. Your
sister chose to medicated herself with alcohol and prescription drugs until she
overdosed and died, and you, well you, you love God more and more each day—and
radiate with wisdom, and grace, and generosity. What’s the difference between
you and your sister?”
“Three things,” she answered me, “First, as a Christian I
expect grace—I expect God to show up and help me. Second, I also participate in
God’s healing—I read and know my Bible and reflect on what it has to say; I
pray; I take responsibility in the church; I stretch. You know, you have to
stand behind the current this and that in your life and ask, ‘What’s going on
here? What’s God asking of me? What’s God reaching for in me?’ And third, I
don’t expect healing overnight—it’s over YEARS.”
In his letter to the church at Galatia, Paul tells them that
they can look forward to great changes in the hands of God—love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness, faithfulness, generosity, gentleness, and self-control.
Quite the miracle, isn’t it? When we are aware of them, we are quite humbled,
which means we are more apt to listen to God and love what God loves. However,
if these gifts of the Spirit are eluding us, we are more apt to be dark, to be
led by our egos, to close in on ourselves.
What we’re beginning to understand is that if we want to move
through the crisis of our lives and into the grace and growth of God we need to
look at 3 things:
*Do we expect grace? What would that look like?
*Do we participate in God’s healing? What would that look
like?
*Do we expect healing over NIGHT, or over YEARS? What would
expecting healing over YEARS to look like?
Closing Prayer: Help us, gracious God, to let go of the past
and move into your future—to flow with life on your terms—to look for signs of you in our
common life together—to partner with you in our healing—to have patience with
the long haul of transformation. Amen.
(This sermon was preached on Sunday, October 5 at Central Christian Church in Billings, Montana by the Reverend Dana Keener.)
(This sermon was preached on Sunday, October 5 at Central Christian Church in Billings, Montana by the Reverend Dana Keener.)
