Ready for Whatever Comes

8/12/01, Crestwood United Church of Christ

Marcia Sietstra:  Pastor

Fred Craddock, a preaching professor, tells the story of going back to Tennessee for a short vacation with his wife. One night they found a quiet restaurant. While they were waiting for their meal they saw a distinguished white haired man moving from table to table visiting guests. Craddock whispered to his wife, "I hope he doesn't come over here."

But the man did come to their table. "Where are you folks from?" "Oklahoma." "Splendid state. What do you do for a living?" "I teach preaching." "Oh, so you teach preachers to preach. Well I've got a story for you."

Dr. Craddock groaned inwardly. But the man had pulled up a chair and was sitting down. The man stuck out his hand, "I'm Ben. I was born not far from here. My mother wasn't married when I was born and back in those days I had a hard time. My classmates had a name for me, and it wasn't very nice. I didn't like going downtown on Saturday afternoon and thinking people were all wondering who my real father was.

When I was 12 years old a new preacher came to our church. I would always go in late and slip out early. But one day the preacher said the benediction so fast I got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time I got to the door I felt a big hand on my shoulder. I looked up and the preacher was looking right at me. "Who are you son? Whose boy are you?" I felt like every eye in church was on me. Even the preacher was putting me down. But as he looked down at me, studying my face, he began to smile a big smile of recognition. "Wait a minute," he said, "I know who you are. I see the family resemblance. You are a child of God." With that he slapped me across the back and said, "Boy, you've got an inheritance; go and claim it."

The old man looked across the table at Fred Craddock and said, "That was the single most important sentence ever said to me." With that he smiled, shook the hands of Craddock and his wife, and moved on to another table to greet friends. Suddenly Fred Craddock recognized the man that the people of Tennessee had twice elected to be their governor, a man who was the son of a single mother.

What is our inheritance as children of God? Abraham thought it was the blessing of descendents. Jesus suggested it is the kingdom of God. Last week we examined this saying of Jesus: "Fear not, little flock, for it is the father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." You may remember that last week I talked about Jesus' advice that we should not worry so much about material possessions, but instead trust God more. I told you last week that I would continue this week where last week's sermon left off, talking a bit about the difference between worry and watchfulness.

I chose the title for today's sermon early this week—Ready for Whatever Comes. And then Thursday night, Cindy Hoy, who is a close personal friend as well as a member of this congregation, called me from Hastings, Nebraska, 5 hours away, to tell me she had just gotten a message from the emergency room at Sioux Valley Hospital saying that her husband, Tom, had been in a serious car accident and was headed into surgery to remove a crushed spleen. Many of you have undoubtedly heard that his Blazer was hit by a pickup, traveling at a high rate of speed, whose driver failed to yield at an intersection. Tom has other injuries, but we are thankful that it looks like he will recover.

Over and over, the past few days, as we sat in the intensive care waiting room, I have heard people say, along with me, things like "You just never know what’s going to happen. We have such a tenuous hold on life. Life is so fragile." As I worked on this sermon, I had to ask myself, "How can I tell them not to worry?" Can we really be ready for whatever comes?

In response to those two questions, one might first of all be tempted to say, "Why worry; it does no good. What comes, comes." Like Mark Twain said, most of the things we worry about never happen. I used to tell my husband that because he doesn't worry about anything, that forces me to worry enough for 2 people! But those of us who worry, don’t make a conscious choice to worry; it's something we have a hard time not doing!

I think many of us worry because we are afraid. We are afraid that because God doesn't seem to be directing every little detail of life, that maybe God isn’t really paying attention at all! I don't know how involved God is with day-to-day happenings. I admit it. Perhaps some of you wish your pastor could assure you that God directly causes every little thing that happens that God fixes things for faithful people that fewer bad things happen to good, Christian people because God is watching out for us in a special way. I'm sorry to tell you that I'm not at all convinced of any of that. Too many bad things happen to too many good people for me to believe that God is pulling all the strings like a master puppeteer.

So what was Jesus doing telling the disciples not to worry, not even about what they would eat and drink? Well, Jesus occasionally used rather extreme statements to make a point. I think he would not expect us to sell all possessions and give it all as alms. I think he would have us find a balance in which we worry less and trust more a quiet tension in which we are responsible people who are watchful, who work hard for good in this world, while at the same time trusting that ultimately it is God's world. Jesus saw how hard life was for people, how unfair it was, how unpredictable it could be. The people of Palestine did not have security in life. He had the wisdom to know that they could trust in a force greater than themselves.

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke writes: In spite of all the farmer's work and worry, he can't reach down to where the seed is slowly transmuted into summer. The earth bestows. The work and watchfulness on the part of the farmer is balanced with trust in the creator's natural order.

Thornton Wilder’s play, Our Town, has always spoken to me about the craziness of constant work and worry and activity in life. In it, Emily Webb has come to the afterlife, and then returns to earth for a day. As she watches people going through the daily routines, she finally asks, "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? every, every minute?" A minister, also in the afterlife, says, "No. The saints and poets maybe they do some."

I think it is fear that keeps us worrying and scurrying, or trying to gain power or security while we miss what is best in life. In the middle of the last century there was a very famous minister named John Claypool. I'll never forget the first time I read one of his sermons. It was entitled, "When All Else Fails, Then What?" and was written shortly after the agonizing, painful death of his little daughter from leukemia. John Claypool has written:

For some time now, the conviction has been growing in me that finally there are only two realities love and fear. Love is confidence that there is enough, and therefore one can live with courage and generosity in the assurance that whatever one faces, being sons and daughters of abundance, we can make the best of things. On the other hand, fear is the suspicion there is not enough and never will be. This leads to a life-style of anxiety and a kind of siege-mentality. Obviously, these polar opposites have the power to cancel out each other. Love casts out fear, according to I John, and fear casts out love, according to our own experience. I am never less fearful than when I am most loving, and never less loving than when I am most fearful. Each of us has a choice—in which of these primal realities will we plant our lives?

We have many fears that we will get a call like Cindy's, fears that we will suffer a devastating illness, fears that we can no longer protect a son or daughter that might make a mistake and be hurt. But if we daily resolve to do 2 things I think we may discover what Jesus was trying to teach. What if we would daily resolve to at least try to trust God when we feel worried? And what if we would daily resolve to act out of love for others, as much as we act out of love for ourselves what do you think could happen?

Let me tell you about a woman that Kathleen Norris describes in her book Amazing Grace. She says:

An acquaintance of mine, a brilliant young scholar, was stricken with cancer. Over the course of several years, she came close to dying three times. After extensive treatment, both radiation and chemotherapy, she was given a welcome remission. Though her prognosis was uncertain at best, she again was able to teach and write.

"I'd never want to go back," she told her department head, an older woman, "because now I know what each morning means, and I am so grateful just to be alive."

When the other woman said to her, "We've been through so much together the last few years," the younger woman nodded and smiled. "Yes," she said emphatically, "Yes, and hasn't it been a blessing."

Cancer, a blessing? I often read about people who discover what it is to truly live when they go through cancer or some other life-altering, difficult experience. Maybe it is because they risked trusting God, because there was nothing else left to trust. Maybe it is because they discovered what really matters in life relationships, beauty, little kindnesses all glimpses of God's essence.

Some people who face death learn to appreciate every sunrise, every smile, every touch. Every morning is a gift. I know of one cancer patient who said, "I feared I would be the dead walking among the living. But I have discovered that I am the living walking among the dead." The dead are those too preoccupied with accumulating stuff, or too fearful to slow down and watch for those times when God is revealed in life in goodness, in beauty, in love. They are too busy worrying instead of being watchful!

But here is the most fascinating part of all this: As you begin to risk trusting God and caring about others because they go hand in hand—the trust you had to work at becomes genuine, and deep and real. You begin not to worry so much about yourself because you are thinking of others you begin to feel a calmness, a peace of mind, a confidence that love will take care of you too, no matter what happens. I think that is our inheritance. That is the kingdom of God Jesus talked about, and it is here and now, not just in a heavenly future. It is participating in the Spirit.

Last week I talked about putting trust and hope in your pocket or purse each day, in order to make the heavenly purse Jesus spoke of. Some days I don’t feel very trusting or hopeful. But as I consciously choose to be, I find trust and hope growing in me. Jesus talked about the servants waiting up for their master to come home after a wedding, with lamps lit waiting to open the door. The master rewarded them by making them sit down and then by serving them! When we wait expectantly for God, ready to serve God by serving others, the gifts of trust and hope are given to us.

And we find ourselves ready for whatever happens, knowing that even though bad things might happen because of the way the world is made, the love of God made manifest in people, and made known to us other ways, does sustain us. That's what I saw happen this week. People sustained by God and God's people.

We human beings are the children of God the Father and Mother; it makes sense that we have an inheritance, gifts that it is God's good pleasure to give us. They are the gifts of love. This is a God we can trust so we are ready for whatever comes. Amen.