Theme: “Our Focal Point”
12th Sunday After Pentecost
20th Sunday in Ordinary Time
August 15, 2010
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
IN THE NAME OF JESUS
1Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
Love, joy, and peace to you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Along with our wonderful facility here, it is not insignificant to note our geographic location. Dear friends, First Presbyterian of Denton is on a prime piece of real estate. Not far from here, to the south of us, sits either the fourth or the third largest university in the state of Texas – depending on whose statistics you’re looking at. The “Mean Green”, or UNT as its called, has one of the finest music schools in the world, and a new stadium is going up. To the west of us, the developers are at it again, moving dirt and all, with fits and starts, building something of a new retail and residential mecca. Drive east down University Drive, and you take note of Texas Woman’s University with the beautiful Hubbard Hall and the little chapel that was dedicated by Eleanor Roosevelt. Head further to the east and you eventually run into the tollway. Like a fast-paced European autobahn, it now zips people down to Dallas in no time flat. Then there’s population growth. Based on figures from 2006-2009, Denton is the tenth-fastest growing city in the country with a population over one hundred thousand. I’ve lived in the area for ten years, and have witnessed that population go up, up, up. Were he alive, Dr. Seuss could have surely had Denton in mind when he wrote that lively little book, Great Day for Up! Everything that I’ve just mentioned has been and will be witnessed by all of us as the beehive of activity that is Denton, Texas moves into the future. Economic unpleasantries notwithstanding, everything appears to be on the up!
We can be forgiven for thinking that we are little more than spectators as all these things go on around us. Denton seems to demonstrate the dictum of Lee Iacocca: “Lead, follow, or get out of the way.” Surrounded by so many people and so much progress and activity, the temptation is to lose a little of your own identity. You feel like just another nameless face in a growing crowd or simply a statistic on someone’s demographic data sheet.
Into this atmosphere and admixture of progress and confusion, the good news of today’s text bursts onto the scene and into the mix. The writer to the Hebrews makes a big declaration. We are surrounded, the writer says, by a great cloud of witnesses. The writer isn’t talking about the possibility of big brother looking over our shoulders. It’s not as though we’re the Texas Rangers baseball team with tens of thousands of fans cheering madly as an 11th inning homer beats the Red Sox. No, you and I are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses – or, as the Apostles’ Creed calls them, the communion of saints.
Like you and me, those witnesses and saints have stories. We heard some of them in today’s passage. Like us, they lived the adventure of faith. They enjoyed some victories; they took some actions; they attempted to order their society; they fought battles; they moved around. In addition, they endured no small amount of persecution and tragedy. But the scarlet thread that connected them all was the gift of faith. Stated differently, they hung in there with God – whether their lives were on the upswing, the downswing, or any other swing in between.
How about you right now at this very moment: are you on an upswing in your life? A downswing? Something else? How is it with your faith and the story of your life right now?
It’s summertime, and that means I listen to a lot of Jimmy Buffett music. One of his little ballads that always gets to me and tugs at my heartstrings is called “He Went to Paris.” It tells the story of a life, and it goes like this:
He went to Paris looking for answers to questions that bothered him so; he was impressive, young and agressive, saving the world on his own. The warm summer breezes and the French wines and cheeses put his ambition at bay. Summers and winters scattered like splinters, and forty five years slipped away.
He went to England, played the piano, and married and actress named Kim. They had a fine life; she was a good wife and bore him a young son named Jim. And all of the answers and all of the questions were locked in his attic one day, for he liked the quiet, clean country living, and twenty more years slipped away.
Well, the war took his baby; the bombs killed his lady and left him with only one eye. His body was battered; his whole world was shattered, and all he could do was just cry. While the tears were falling he was recalling answers that he never found. So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean, and left England without a sound.
Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilings, and drinks his Green Label each day. He’s writing his memoirs, losing his hearing, but he don’t care what most people say. Through eighty six years of perpetual motion, if he likes you he’ll smile and he’ll say: “Jimmy, some of it’s magic; some of it’s tragic, but I had a good life all the way.”
Life being what it is, I’m sure you’ve had magic moments and tragic moments. I have. As our days together begin, I look forward to sharing more of my life with you, and I hope you’ll feel safe and welcome to share bits and pieces of your own lives with me. Like the individual in the Buffett song, my life has been one of “perpetual motion.” The fact is, all of our lives are in perpetual motion -- even when we’re asleep. Our hearts keep moving; they pump. Our lungs keep moving; they respirate. Our brain waves keep moving; they register.
So our lives perpetually move on, and the good news today is that we’re not alone. We’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. Along with the good news comes an encouraging word as well. The writer says: “Let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us... .” That’s from the New Revised Standard Version translation of the Bible. But on this verse, I prefer the New International Version rendering, and it goes like this: “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.” The NIV language there is a bit more vivid and crisp.
“Throw off everything that hinders,” the writer says. “Oh, c’mon,” says a voice from the gallery. “That’s easier said than done!” One of the things that hinders me, for example, is anxiety and even panic about the future. It’s almost as if I have a little committee in my head that sits around the table and discusses contingency plans for when things go wrong in the future.” This reading says, “Paul, give every member a pink slip fire that committee immediately; get rid of that; cast off that ballast; throw it away.” Yes, I’m one of those who really needs to take to heart those great words from Ralph Waldo Emerson:
Some of your hurts you have cured,And the sharpest you’ve even survived,But what torments of grief you’ve endured,From evils which never arrived.
Another thing we are encouraged to cast off is the sin that, in the words of the text, “so easily entangles.” Sin, in a manner of speaking, turns us into an old string of Christmas lights. You get them out the next Christmas and they’re all tangled up and you’re not sure if they’ll work. But our reading doesn’t tell us to untangle our sin. It says to cast it off. There’s a big difference, a huge difference, between untangling them and casting them off. There are many things in life we can deal with, but sin isn’t one of them. The good news of the Gospel is that Jesus is more than willing to take them. In fact, He has – all the way to the cross. In return, He decorates our lives with forgiveness, with faith, and with perseverance.
Yes, “Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us… ,” says our reading. It doesn’t say run with speed. Life isn’t about getting to the finish line first. It says run with perseverance. Hang in there when you feel like giving up. Practice something that a Walt Disney lyricist called “Stick-to-it-ivity”:
Yes siree! Yes siree! You can clear the deck for opportunity by applyin’ stick-to-it-itvity. If you got that stuff called stick-to-it-ivity, you’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be alright!
We’ve covered a lot of ground this morning. Our lives can have magic moments and tragic moments. Our journeys through life are ones of perpetual motion, but we don’t travel alone. We are surrounded by the lives and the stories of that great cloud of witnesses, the communions of saints. With God’s help, we can cast off all that hinders and entangles. We can run with perserverance the race of life marked out for us by a loving God; we can hang in there; we can practice stick-to-it-ivity. Christians may need a towel, but they don’t throw it in!
Finally, here’s the best news of all: our lives have a focal point. The writer to the Hebrews bids us to “Fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken His seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Let me be the first to tell you that there are times when Jesus seems so out of focus. When that happens, the tendency is to focus on something else: ourselves. We focus on our lives and seek to mold and shape them as we see fit. We focus on our own needs and wants and seek to meet them. We focus on our own whims and fancies and seek to enact them. Then we wonder why life gets off track.
How wonderful it is to know that Jesus will come into focus and will be our focal point– as we gather around His Word, as we receive His blessed Sacraments, as we remember that we’re not alone.
Last Sunday afternoon, I got to spend some time with FPC Youth. And I’m here to tell you: we’ve got some great young people here. Driving home, I thought back on when I was their age and remembered my favorite job as a teenager. I worked as a greenskeeper on a Nebraska golf course, and I’d like to share a final story from those days that I hope will illustrate what I’ve tried to say this morning.
The work day began at 6:00 o’clock in the morning. On my first day on the job, I met the assistant greens keeper – a retired gentleman; a tobacco chewing, story-telling, wisdom-dispensing good old boy by the name of Bill Wilson. He said, “You’re going to learn to mow the greens.” That’s the part of the golf course where the grass is very thin and you putt the ball. Bill went on: “I want you to watch me; that’s how you’ll learn.” After showing me how to run the mower out by the shed, I followed him on foot and watched him mow the first three greens. He’d mow straight across the middle of the green and then go back and forth and back and forth until he was done. Then he’d mow along the edge of the green.” I thought, “Well, that’s simple enough.” On the fourth green, it was my turn. I hopped up on that Jacobsen mower I started to have at it. I went back and forth and back and forth while making sure that the edge of the mower was properly aligned to the edge of the grass. When I was done, I got off the mower and was proud that I had learned how to do it so quickly. I turned to Bill hoping to receive a nice compliment for having done such a nice job. But Bill was having none of it. He frowned and shook his head. He said, “Look at your lines. Are those straight?” I looked back at the green, and I had to admit that they were not. Bill said, “I told you to watch me and not the mower. If you would have watched me, you would have seen that I never looked down at the mower. I was focused on a spot I picked out in the distance, and I mowed right toward it. As a result, my lines are straight; the greens look beautiful. Now, try it again.” We went to the fifth hole. I got set to mow. It was hard at first not to look down. But I began to focus on a point in the distance and mow right toward it. When I got done with green number five, I hopped off. I looked at Bill. He was smiling. The lines were straight; the green was beautiful.
Friends, our lives have a focal point – even Jesus Christ. Focused on Him, our lives are straight and they are beautiful.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment