Today, just two percent of the population produces more than enough food for our entire nation. Oh sure, lots of us plant tomatoes and have small container gardens. Some folks even plow up a section of their yards and play at gardening, but they aren’t serious farmers.
With the rise of mega churches and the attention some big steeple pastors get today, we might think the same percentages apply to the soul business. Preachers are the real evangelists, and everyone else just plays at this sharing of the good news we call evangelism.
I understand . . . it’s hard work being an evangelist, because you not only have to know how to talk the talk, you have to walk the walk.
I believe the parable of the sower is not just for “preacher types.” I believe Jesus told this story for all his followers.
You see, we are all sowers. We are called to “go out and sow,” to try and live as our faith calls us to live, to try to share our faith in word and deed with those whom God puts in our path. We are all called to share this love of God that someone shared with us.
I’m lucky, I guess, because sharing the gospel is my job. I schedule a new members' class like the one we had this morning, or I call a visitor and see if we can meet. Sometimes, sometimes, I close the deal. But more times than not, I’m never sure. But maybe, just maybe, I planted a seed, and one day that person will come to have faith. That’s OK, I guess, but we live in a culture that wants, expects results, and we want them now. I know of a church whose prayer chain is called PUSH (pray until something happens). That’s clever. But all too often we pray and we don’t know if anything happens.
Sowing seeds is hard work. It involves action, doing stuff, you have to reach out, and you have to serve, and care and take risks. Sharing the good news sometimes means bad news for the one doing the sharing. Because, you see, we give and give and give of ourselves, our time, our talents, our energy, and our emotions and . . . nothing seems to come out of it. So much of what we do—so many of the seeds we sow—seem to be wasted.
It’s like broadcasting seeds—we’re tossing them in every direction and only a small percentage will eventually come to harvest. That’s what the people in Jesus’ day expected. They knew all about rocky soil, and fat birds and scorching sun. They went out and worked, not expecting much in return. So imagine their surprise and wonder when Jesus says in this parable that the harvest would yield 100, 60 or 30 times what was sown.
To sow with this sort of hope and vision is to have the perspective of the Kingdom of God. It’s not immediate results but the promise of a vast harvest later on that is at the heart of this parable.
We know that, but still, doesn’t it bother you to think that so much of what we do as individuals and as a church is just wasted? We try and try and try to make a difference and we seem to get nowhere. We don’t get noticed, we don’t succeed, and our efforts aren’t even appreciated. Many of us in the faith business know what it’s like to reach out a hand . . . and pull back a bloody stump!
That’s why the title of this sermon is “Planting the Seeds in Faith!” So many good Christians think we are planting the seeds of faith, as if faith is something we the planters are going to grant to someone else. But in reality, we are planting the seeds, trusting God to provide the harvest. God saves people, we don’t. But God uses each and every one of us to plant the seed. We don’t always have to close the deal . . . it’s not our deal to close.
The hope in this parable is if we plant the seed . . . by being kind, if we can’t be holy, by living our faith even when we think no one is looking, by sharing the good news every chance we get, by praying, and studying, and being present, if we live the kind of life we think God wants us to live, and if we keep our baptism promises—if we do all that—then the harvest will come, and Jesus says it will be a great harvest . . . 100, 60 or 30 times what was sown.
Of course, much of what we sow will be wasted from our point of view. We don’t see the results of so much that we contribute. So many times our very favorite seed, our best, most self-sacrificing deed, our smartest remark, our greatest insight . . . ends up on a rocky path or inside some big fat bird.
the preacher who has prepared her best sermon . . . and almost everyone is out of town that Sunday
the teacher who has a well-prepared lesson and the class just wants to talk
the nursery worker who comes early, prepared to keep the babies, and alas, no babies
the person who spends all day Saturday working on the church grounds, and no one says a word on Sunday
What do we do? Stop preaching, stop preparing lessons, close the nursery, and let the church go to pot? Of course not.
We do what each one of us is called to do—we sow the seeds in faith, then we can wave at the birds, and smile at the weeds, and toss any rock we come to out of the way—they are not our concern.
For the love we offer in the Lord’s name is the Word of the Kingdom of God. And God’s Word, God’s promises will not return to God empty.
If you have joined Palmetto, you are a “faithful” farmer, but who knows what kind of harvest we will reap. We are in a school cafeteria, the economy is terrible, there are many distractions and temptations to keep folks in Mt. Pleasant away from church, and our denomination, like others, keeps getting bad press in the media. But alas, we keep planting . . . one seed at a time, and we prayerfully wait and hope for that harvest Jesus promises in today’s reading.
It’s not easy—being a faithful farmer, but that’s what we are, and so we keep sowing . . . in faith.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Michael Lee Fitze Palmetto Presbyterian Church Mt. Pleasant, SC July 13, 2008
July 6, 2008 Sermon
July 08, 2008
"THE POWERS THAT BE"
Ephesians 6:10-19
“Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel . . .” --Ephesians 6:19
In today’s reading, Paul says, “Pray for me, that whenever I open my mouth words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel.” I know for a fact you all pray for me when I open my mouth, because you are afraid to know what words will come out. Take today, I am never sure how to approach national holidays like the 4th of July from the pulpit. There is this tension between war and peace, between freedom and control, the tension between allegiance to God and allegiance to one’s country. For instance, which of the following statements is true?
• You have to be an American to be a Christian.
• You have to be a Christian to be an American.
I hope you said neither statement is true. But like me, you have probably encountered persons who may have not believed those statements, but sure acted like they did. As much as we long for peace, it seems we are always doing battle with the powers that be. The problem is we aren’t always sure just who those powers are.
Remember the story of John Steinbeck’s sharecropper? All he wanted to know was who foreclosed his farm? It wasn’t the local banker, because he was responsible to the home office, and it wasn’t the home office, because they had a board of directors, and it wasn’t the board, because, after all, they answered to literally thousands of stockholders—the bottom line—nobody was guilty, because everybody was. The system was guilty. We wrestle not with flesh and blood, but principalities and powers and rulers of this world. And the problem is you can’t always see the powers that be. And to complicate the battle, not only is our enemy a mystery, we’re also not sure of our allies.
This upcoming election has gone on so long former bitter enemies are now “kissing and making up” as best friends—all in the name of politics! And of course the real fight has just begun. Wait until this fall . . . the lines between church and state will become even more blurred. Remember the last election, with each party trying to be more religious than the other.
As much as we long for peace in this country and seek peace in our individual lives, the reality is we spend a lot of time in combat. I was disappointed when “the powers that be” removed “Onward Christian Soldiers” from the Presbyterian Hymnal. Some folks on the hymn review committee thought the song was too militaristic—it focused too much on war and conflict. I guess those people skip over major sections of the Bible. In Matthew 10, Jesus himself said, “I have come not to bring peace, but a sword,” and in our Epistle Reading this morning, Paul tells us to “put on the whole armor of God.”
I don’t mind going into battle. Hey, I like a good fight . . . I just want to know who I am fighting. So often it seems we are up against the powers that be . . . and I don’t have a clue exactly who that is! With whom do we align ourselves? Who is our ally and who is the enemy?
In America we talk about freedom. It’s a value we hold in highest esteem. Former President Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, “A pledge to the flag is a pledge to maintain the four great freedoms cherished by all Americans: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want, and freedom from fear.” But the truth is we want those freedoms just for ourselves or people like us. Let us determine how everybody else lives.
Friends, I hate to admit this, but aren’t church people the worst? Our congregations are full of self-righteous people who want to label everyone else. Speaking of labels—on this 4th of July weekend, how would you define a Christian?
Most Christians are patriotic. We love God and country. But being a Christian is not synonymous with being an American and vice versa. Who do you pledge your allegiance to? Isn’t it interesting that we worry about prayer in school, yet how many Christians pray at least once a day? And how many come to Sunday school or Bible study to put on the armor of God’s word that Paul is talking about in today’s reading. I am sure almost all Christians pay their taxes—but how many tithe? And far too often when we become good Samaritans and do a good deed, we want a receipt for the IRS. Most Christians live by the Ten Commandments, but a lot of Americans are governed by one more—what Jeffrey Archer calls the 11th Commandment—“Don’t get caught.”
When Paul talks about this cosmic spiritual battle, he was reminding Christians that they must always be fighting the powers that be, because Satan will use every weapon in his arsenal to challenge our faith. And one weapon he has used in this country is freedom. Because we live in a land where we can worship as we please—we as a nation have become complacent, indifferent, and apathetic. Paul says the word of the Spirit is the word of God—The Word of God—the Bible—is available everywhere, even on vacation you will find a familiar Gideon Bible in your hotel room. But how many American Christians are reading the word?
The “word” in our Old Testament Reading, if you noticed, isn’t about just one nation. Here Isaiah is talking about nations—how the Lord will judge between the nations, how spears will be turned into pruning hooks, and one day, one day we won’t train for war anymore.
But that day hasn’t come, yet. Nations are still fighting nations, and of course, the biggest justification we have for war is freedom. Freedom is so important—we are willing to fight for it. As Americans, we fight different opponents; our allies and enemies are always changing. But as Christians, the opponent is clear. We are always doing battle with Satan, and freedom is one of his most effective weapons.
Here is the part where I open my mouth and get in trouble. I don’t think freedom is an entitlement, something that is automatically owed to us. I believe freedom is a privilege—something we earn, something we learn to appreciate through maturity and experience and most definitely sacrifice. For some of us, too much freedom can be dangerous. As children, our parents didn’t give us full reign to do as we pleased—at least mine didn’t! And even today, I find too much freedom a temptation . . . it can get me in trouble. So freedom needs to be tempered with all these disciplines Paul describes in Ephesians. We need to suit up—put on our armor and sing “Onward Christian Soldiers” every once in a while to remind us that we are always, always doing battle with the powers that be.
And if you haven’t figured it out yet, the enemy, the best weapon the devil has sometimes, is good intentioned but undisciplined, uninformed Christians—so we can make a difference in this great nation of ours or we can contribute to its downfall because, you see, the real powers that be—are, of course, you and me!
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Michael Lee Fitze Palmetto Presbyterian Church Mt. Pleasant, SC July 6, 2008
June 22, 2008 Sermon
June 26, 2008
“THE RECEIVING LINE”
Matthew 10:40-42
"He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives the one who sent me. Anyone who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet's reward, and anyone who receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man's reward. And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward."
Our gospel reading this morning is Matthew 10:40-42. But you know what, I can’t really preach a sermon on these verses alone. We need to look at the whole chapter, where Jesus sends out the disciples and gives them instructions on discipleship.
In case you didn’t already know it, let me tell you this discipleship stuff ain’t easy. Listen as I read Chapter 10 of Matthew’s Gospel.
“He who receives you receives me.” Maybe you watched the reports this week of Tim Russert’s funeral. There were long lines of dignitaries and regular people waiting to pay respect to the veteran newsman. Tim’s wife, Maureen, and son, Luke, were by the casket, receiving each person who came by.
That got me thinking about receiving lines—at weddings, funerals, political rallies, greeting new elders after an ordination service or meeting the new members at church. Receiving lines are easy when you know the person. But don’t you hate it when you have to make contact with people you have no connection with whatsoever and you’re trying to find the right words to say. You go to a wedding because you know the bride or the groom. You want to give them your best wishes, but to do so you also have to greet 14 bridesmaids and groomsmen you don’t know and have nothing really to say to them. It’s uncomfortable—for sure!
In Chapter 10, when Jesus sends out the disciples, he talks a good bit about giving and receiving. As disciples we are all called to go out and share the good news. That’s what gospel is, you know. It’s good news. And of course, not everyone wants to hear it. Jesus told the disciples: If you go into a town and the people don’t receive you, don’t get upset, kick the dust off your sandals and go on to the next town. You know what that saying is, don’t you? To say kick the dust off your sandals and move on is a biblical way of saying “don’t let the screen door hit you on the way out.”
Now, that sounds a little self-righteous, but as a disciple, I like that phrase. The responsibility is with them, not us. If we share the good news and they don’t listen, well, we’ll just shake the dust off our sandals and go somewhere else.
That’s the giving part. Verses 40-42 in our reading are about receiving. And now the tables are turned. The responsibility is with us. How do we receive—as Christians, as Presbyterians, as members of Palmetto? That’s an important question folks because Presbyterians are disciples, but let’s face it, we aren’t the “go out and bring them in” kind of disciples. What’s our favorite saying? They will know we are Christians by our love. We wait for people to come to us. So the question is, when they do come, “How will we receive them?”
How hospitable are we as God’s children? Who do we go out of our way to welcome, to make them feel at home, and to whom are we merely “polite”? This is a timely text, folks, because let’s face it, Presbyterians are snobs, or at least that is how the larger community views us, and maybe they are right! We are educated. As a denomination we are affluent (in the year 2000 Presbyterians surpassed the Episcopal church in personal assets). Today, we are the wealthiest denomination in this country, per capita, and we do things “decently and in order.” That intimidates a lot of people. Think about it, how many Presbyterian churches have “Biker Sunday”? And while we are hardly concerned with what people wear, we don’t advertise “come as you are.” We are who we are, and I don’t apologize for that. Still, I can’t help remembering the words of the writer of Hebrews, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that, some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
So, who do we welcome? In our reading this morning, Jesus lists those to be welcomed: prophets, righteous people, disciples, and little ones. Jesus begins by saying that those who welcome his disciples welcome him. That is something for us to remember. Baptism inducts us all into the company of disciples. We are the followers of Christ. We are different people with different opinions, but friends, another Christian is another Christian. Church folk forget that when they argue about how to baptize or who is welcomed at the Lord’s Table or that old saying “my church is better than your church” or “God loves us more than God loves you.” So much for discipleship!
Jesus then tells us to be kind to prophets. Prophets are people who tell the truth. They say, “Thus says the Lord,” and sometimes we just don’t want to hear what the Lord says. Truth-tellers are hard people to tolerate. But still, we are to welcome them and listen to them.
Then, Jesus tells us to be kind to righteous people. Not to be confused with self-righteous people. The self-righteous are always right. They approve their own behavior and judge others. But a righteous person walks with God. Righteous people are holy people. They are just plain good! Unfortunately, good people can be hard to take. They don’t flaunt their holiness, but next to them we may not look as good. Righteous people make us feel less than perfect. We are intimidated by them. Sometimes you just want to see those good people slip up and not be so good, but in the meantime, we must receive them.
Finally, Jesus says to act kindly toward “little ones.” Who are the little ones? Well, one commentary says they are regular Christians, just regular disciples who are not church leaders. One interpretation is that these prophets, disciples and righteous people are all little ones. Or, maybe we take the words “little ones” at face value and see them as our children. After all, if we take our baptismal vows seriously, we have a responsibility to “receive” these little ones.
OK, maybe you’re like me and you don’t like receiving lines. So then, how do we receive people? Why do we receive people as disciples—this being hospitable and kind and Christ-like, not just to people we like, but to everyone? How do we become good disciples?
I think the answer lies in our epistle reading from Romans concerning baptism. Paul says when we were baptized into Christ Jesus we were baptized into death. In other words, this discipleship stuff is not easy. You and I know that—we just forget sometimes. Of course, life helps us remember. Do you ever get up, plan your whole day, and watch it go to hell in a hand basket by 10:00 a.m.? Yes, we remember. We set out to be God’s gift to the world and end up saying something rude to our co-worker, then we cut someone off on the interstate going home, and we’re too tired to spend any quality time with the kids. Yes, we remember. We think that once we are baptized we will become perfect holy people, always kind, always good, and ready to receive everyone who crosses our path. But, it doesn’t work that way, does it?
Friends, you baptism grants you no special protection, no magic, no exemption from troubles, challenges and conflicts. Sorry. What baptism does is mark you as God’s beloved child, and when strangers meet you for the first time, they are coming face-to-face with a disciple of Christ.
Every day people will present themselves to you asking for, maybe even demanding, your attention, your love, your time, any proof that they matter at all to you . . . and to God. How will you, how will all of us who through baptism have become disciples of Christ, how will we receive others in our daily lives?
It’s not easy. Sometimes you will stand in lines you don’t want to stand in and you will be asked to receive people you may not want to receive, but I can promise you this: Jesus says, “ . . . if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward."
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Michael Lee Fitze Palmetto Presbyterian Church Mt. Pleasant, SC June 22, 2008
June 15, 2008 Sermon
June 16, 2008
"A FATHER'S LOVE"
Hosea 11:1-11
"When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son." -Hosea 11:1
For the last several weeks our scripture readings and my sermons have all made some reference to the character and nature of God. This morning is Father's Day, so it seems only fitting to speak today of God as our "Heavenly Father." I have to admit that is a title I use infrequently, to say the least. If you notice, I almost never address God in my public prayers as "Heavenly Father." I went to seminary during a time when inclusive language was mandatory. We never said mankind (always it was humanity, and male pronouns were forbidden when referring to God).
I respect that view. I understand that God is beyond our classification of gender, age, and race. I also realize some people who have not had nurturing fathers here on earth find it difficult to address God as their Heavenly Father. Believe me, I do understand that. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and I had little contact with my biological father during my formative years. So I am never sure what to call him. It is uncomfortable. We have never had a close or intimate relationship. He is a nice man. I respect him, but we don't relate to one another as father and son; there is a polite aloofness.
My relationship with my biological father is similar to many individual's relationship with their Heavenly Father. God is there. They know who God is; there is a polite, even respectful relationship. But they would be the first to admit they are not close. For whatever reason, they have kept their distance. Of course, this is nothing new. God and humanity have always had a strained relationship. The Old Testament is a continuing story of God reaching out to God's children-only to have his children back away. It began in the Garden of Eden. After Adam and Eve ate from the Forbidden Tree, they hid from God. The Lord called out to them, "Where are you?" Because they did wrong, they were afraid and they drew back. Have you ever wondered what would have happened if they had come forward and just confessed their sin in the first place?
The "run and hide from God" has been a pattern-our modus operandi since the beginning of time, and what a shame-because, friends, the one thing the church teaches over and over again is God is love.
Whatever else we say about God, we always come back to the realization that God loves us like a father, like a mother; maybe God loves us in a way that only God can. There is probably no better example of that than in today's Old Testament reading from Hosea.
"When Israel was a child, I loved him. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms. But they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. How can I give you up? How can I hand you over?"
Aren't these the words and feelings of a loving parent? Can't you just see a proud father bending down to help his child take those first important steps, ready to grab the child if it should fall? As small children, we instinctively trust our fathers (and mothers). As we get older, we think we can make it on our own. There's less trust in our father, more confidence in ourselves. God understands this and gives us our "space." God lets us learn for ourselves, but like the father in that popular New Testament story, the Prodigal Son, God is watching us, waiting for us with open arms, ready to rescue us, save us, deliver us if we only will let him, for truly God loves us with a father's love.
This morning as we witnessed Taylor's baptism, we saw another example of our Heavenly Father's love. Some people question infant baptism. Some would say, "How can Taylor, at nineteen months, understand what baptism means?" I would say, "How can any of us, regardless of our age, fully grasp the significance of baptism?" In our reformed tradition, we see baptism as entrance into the community of faith-and what gets us in is not our good works, it's not our knowledge, it's God's grace, which simply put is God's love!
All you have to do is open yourself to receive that love. But, that's not easy for those of us who like to think of ourselves as self-sufficient. On this Father's Day, maybe if we reflect, we can admit we weren't always so self-sufficient after all. Maybe today we can remember a time or two when we received some help from dear ole dad (and mom) along the way.
In our epistle reading today from Ephesians, Paul instructs fathers not to provoke their children or, as the NIV says, "Do not exasperate your children." In other words, don't act unreasonably toward your children. I wonder if we, as God's children, think God provokes us. Do you believe God wants the best for you? Do you trust God to guide your life, to provide for you, to keep you safe? Sometimes when things are going really well in my own life, I admit I prepare myself for the next bad thing to happen. It is as if I don't trust God to see me through. There's a chapter in The Purpose Driven Life called "What Makes God Smile?" and the bottom line is God gains pleasure in watching us enjoy God's creation. The Psalmist says, "the steps of the godly are directed by the Lord. He delights in every detail of their lives." You know the joy you get from seeing your children be happy, achieve some goal, reach some important passage in life? Well, God is just like that. Just as Beau and Amy want the best for Taylor, so God wants the best for us.
So on this Father's Day, as we honor our earthly fathers, let us draw closer to our Heavenly Father, who loves us and longs to have us love him and trust him. In closing, I leave you with God's promise to David: "I will be his father and he will be my son. When he does wrong I will punish him with the rod of men, but my love, my love will never be taken away from him." Now, that's a promise!
Friends, just as God loved David, God loves each of us with a father's love.
Thanks be to our Father above.
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Michael Lee FitzePalmetto Presbyterian ChurchMt. Pleasant, SCJune 15, 2008
June 8, 2008 Sermon
June 11, 2008
“TURN, TURN, TURN”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-14
“I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him.”¯Ecclesiastes 3:14
For the last two weeks we have been discussing the nature and character of God. Friday, Anne Smyre and I spent a “quiet day” at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner.
Several folks met at All Saints Church down the street and carpooled to the monastery. I noticed that they all had the same bumper sticker on their cars—WIGIAT—which means, “Where is God in all this?”
I imagine you have asked that question a time or two in your life. Hopefully, these sermons about God will help us find the answer.
“To everything turn, turn, turn. There is a season . . . turn, turn, turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Those are the words from a popular song of the 70’s, and they also are the words from our Old Testament scripture reading this morning. You don’t hear many sermons from King Solomon’s book of Ecclesiastes, which is a shame, because in these few short chapters we find a blueprint for building a productive and meaningful life. Yet, I am convinced the church has largely ignored Ecclesiastes for two reasons. The first reason has to do with change.
Those who are able please stand and face me. Now turn . . . turn . . . turn again. Be seated. When we turn from one direction to the next, we see something new and different. Our view of the world changes. You would think change would be good. Surely a blind person would value dearly an opportunity to see the world from every direction. But for many of us change is scary; change is threatening; change is hard.
The author of Ecclesiastes says change is also inevitable. Everything changes . . . and for some reason, the church finds that to be almost a heresy. I think the problem comes from our understanding of God. As Presbyterians we are confessing Christians. And our book of confessions helps us understand God.
To be brief, The Shorter Catechism says:
Q. What is God?
A. God is a Spirit, infinite, eternal and unchangeable, in his being, wisdom,
power, holiness, justice, goodness and truth.
In more detail, the Larger Catechism says:
Q. What is God?
A. God is a Spirit, in and of himself infinite in being, glory, blessedness, and
everywhere present, almighty;knowing all things, most wise, most holy,
most just, most merciful and gracious, long- suffering, and abundant in
goodness and truth.
God is many things to many people, to be sure. But, for some reason, a number of people focus on God being unchangeable. If that is important to you, hold on to that belief. But consider this:maybe God doesn’t change, but we do. Our understanding of God changes. Our knowledge of God changes. As we grow in faith and mature in our relationship with God, we become more intimate with the Divine. To everything there is indeed a season—a person who has lived, as the Psalmist says in Psalm 90, “Seventy years or eighty, if we have the strength,” that person sees life and God much differently than someone who has lived just twenty or thirty years.
So friends, accept the fact that change happens—nothing stays the same—and the church is no exception. That is one of the things I love about our Reformed Tradition. We recognize that when we affirm that we are “Reformed and always being reformed.” With all due respect to those Presbyterian saints of years past, I like to tell folks that Palmetto is not “your father’s Presbyterian church!” I would hope that we always hold on to the traditions of our faith, that we trust the word of God, that we celebrate the sacraments, and that we share the good news, recognizing that how we do these will no doubt change.
Gee, how many of you ever imagined you would be attending worship in a middle school cafeteria, sitting in uncomfortable chairs, listening to the hum of the ice cream freezer in the background? Now that’s change!
Now, if change is hard for you, the second reason Ecclesiastes is ignored will be even more difficult for you. Solomon says in verses 12 and 13:
“I know there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live. Moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat, and drink and take pleasure in all their toil.”
Wow! Imagine that! The wisest man who ever lived says there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves. I have always said if your faith doesn’t bring you joy, question your faith; if your church doesn’t bring you joy, find a new church.
Some people read Ecclesiastes and make the mistake of thinking this isn’t what Solomon meant. But, it is. Solomon had it all—power, women, wine, money, not a nice house or even houses, he had palaces. He lived like a king . . . he was a king!
Believe it or not, God does want us to be happy. Listen again. “It is God’s gift that all should eat, drink and take pleasure in their toil. God never intended for his people to be unhappy people—prim, proper, boring, pious and afraid to smile. Is that how the gospels describe Jesus? I don’t’ think so. But, that is how we could describe many Christians today.
When Solomon wrote Ecclesiastes he was an old man who had lived a full life. Scripture says he was the wisest man who ever lived, and he says it is okay to be happy. But, that isn’t all he says. We have to listen carefully to hear the punch line. This happiness is a gift from God! The big lie so many people have bought into is that they can create their own happiness. We can’t buy happiness. Food, money, beauty, friends, inner peace, satisfaction, health, life itself . . . are all gifts from God. When we realize the world doesn’t revolve around us, but around God, when our lives are defined not by what we have, but who we are (children of God), only then will we become truly happy.
To everything there is a season. For the young, the middle-aged, and those wise elderly folks, don’t wait until you are old to “find God,” thinking you will enjoy life first . . . then become a Christian. Do that and you will miss out on a lifetime of true inner peace and happiness. You see, the meaning of life cannot be found within life, but beyond. To everything there is a season, but eternity is forever.
Life is a gift, so we owe it to God to enjoy every moment of it. Yes, there are challenges and hard seasons along the way, but when we turn, turn, turn to God, ultimately we will find that inner peace that brings joy. We will have the blueprint for building a productive and meaningful life!
Let’s go back to my trip to the monastery. I have to tell you, a whole day of “quiet” is a challenge for me. But these times spent in “communion” with nature (it’s a beautiful place), reading, praying, and watching the monks causes me to reflect:you see, their world is so different from mine. I’m glad there are people who separate themselves and spend all their life in prayer. But that’s not my calling, and I suspect it’s not yours. But what happens when I take time out of my “busy schedule” to be intentional in seeking God is a reminder that God isn’t lost—we are, and on a beautiful day, like Friday, I am reminded how blessed I am and that God does want me, you, all his children to enjoy life as it comes . . . because every season is indeed a gift.
