Emily Schaming
Philip
Parham tells the story of a rich industrialist who was disturbed to find a
fisherman sitting lazily beside his boat. "Why aren't you out there
fishing?" he asked.
"Because
I've caught enough fish for today," said the fisherman.
"Why
don't you catch more fish than you need?' the rich man asked.
"What
would I do with them?" asked the fisherman.
"You
could earn more money," came the impatient reply, "and buy a better
boat so you could go deeper and catch more fish. You could purchase nylon nets,
catch even more fish, and make more money. Soon you'd have a fleet of boats and
be rich like me."
The
fisherman asked, "Then what would I do?"
"You
could sit back and enjoy life," said the industrialist.
"What
do you think I'm doing now?" the fisherman replied, looking calmly out to
sea.
Benjamin Franklin once said that, "Content makes poor men rich; discontent makes rich men poor." Are we a contented people or do we have the discontent of the rich man, the desire to always demand more, to look for new and better opportunities?
The
scripture readings today speak of people's discontent with the way their lives
are progressing. Abraham is annoyed with God because his promised heir has not
yet arrived. He is getting old and impatient, and most of all he doesn't want
one of his slaves to inherit his things.
Jesus
is frustrated with the people of Jerusalem. He says, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often
have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under
her wings, and you were not willing!" (Luke 13:34-35) His longing to
protect the people has not panned out and he sees instead his own future
suffering.
Last
Sunday, Rob talked about Lent as a time to abide with God, a time to meditate
and pray. Lent is also a time when we take stock of our lives, examine what is
important in them, and even consider our own mortality.
For
many of us, a significant question when we examine our lives is, "How much
is enough?" What constitutes enough
time spent with family? How much is enough
money? When is our house big enough?
Clean enough? Pretty enough?
Do I know enough to apply for this job? Do I do enough nice things for people to like me? Did I bake enough
cookies for this church meeting? We are constantly urging ourselves to make a
better impression, to do or be more.
In Paul's letter to the Philippians, he discusses this problem of people desiring material goods instead of focusing on their Christian calling. He says, "Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ."
People
who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s have been described as the, "Me
Generation", a generation of people who
are concerned only with their own happiness. People whose "god is the
belly" as Paul puts it.
Perhaps
this is true, but I would say that even more than that it was the start of a
"More Generation". There is a belief that goes to the core of our
society that says that more is better. More education is better. Is that why 3/4
of my childhood friends have graduate degrees? More money is better. After all,
one needs more to do more. More activity is better. I remember graduating from
high school and being told that the more activities I had on my resumé, the
better my chances for university admission. So in addition to school and my part
time job I made sure that I joined the church choir, school choir, tennis team,
debating team, string ensemble, was a leader in a children's club, took sign
language, Spanish and voice classes, and no doubt more. Were all of these things
necessary to get into university? No. But I was certainly convinced they were at
the time. We seem to be afraid that if we don't do, make, or acquire just one
more thing, our lives will be poorer and less interesting. Or we are afraid that
if we don't keep up the pace of our lives, we will somehow lose all that we
have.
We
forget that it is possible still to live comfortably with enough, that we can
count on God to provide for us instead of feeling as though we need to hoard
extra for ourselves, "just in case".
There
is a story in the Mennonite Central Committee's Extending the Table cookbook that teaches us one way to have enough
in our lives. In the rural Lesotho village where she was living with her family,
"Brenda was going to visit her friend, 'Me Malebohang. Arriving at her
house, Brenda found her at a table in the courtyard cutting up a pumpkin…Since
pumpkins keep well, they are the main vegetable the Basotho, the people of
Lesotho, eat during the winter.
"What
a bad pumpkin harvest!" 'Me Malebohang said after they exchanged greetings.
"More than half of the pumpkins rotted in my field. These eight are the
only ones I have to keep for winter."
Time
passed as their conversation flowed from talk of pumpkins to other topics. When
Brenda rose to leave, [her friend] reached for one of the largest pumpkins on
the wall and handed it to her.
"You
can't give me this pumpkin," Brenda protested. "You just told me that
these are all you have!"
'Me
Malebohang laughed. "We Basotho know that this is the way to do it. Next
year I may have nothing in my field, and if I don't share with you now, who will
share with me then?" Still smiling, she took the pumpkin back and cut it in
half. "Here," she said, "you take this half and give the other
half to your neighbour…Go well!"
Now
living in North America, Brenda recalls what she learned in Lesotho. "No
matter how much food you have, or how many guests you have, food will go around.
When you share it, it goes around. It always does."
Enough
to go around. Lent is a time when we are permitted to shed our desire for more
and be content with enough. Lent can be a season of liberation. Our lives can
become like sacraments, visible signs of an invisible grace. In a culture that
celebrates indulgence, entitlement and winning at any cost, Lent signals an
outrageously counter-cultural enactment of loss and humility. Lent gives us the
opportunity to peel back our layers of denial about our "stuff."
Instead "we befriend our brokenness, acknowledge that not all is well with
our souls, and identify with the hurt of so many people in our world. During
Lent we exchange the oppressive fantasy of perfection for the liberating reality
of fallibility, and, in a miracle of grace, discover that there are consolations
in imperfections." God always has enough grace to go around.
I
saw an episode of the Simpsons last week in which the minister, Reverend
Lovejoy, was finding it hard to keep people awake with his sermon on "The 9
Tenets of Constancy." At one point a parishioner topples over and the noise
he makes as his head hits the pew in front distracts the preacher so much that
he starts his sermon over from the beginning, putting the rest of the
congregation to sleep. Constancy might not be something that keeps the people of
the cartoon church awake, but it is no small thing. One definition of constancy
is to be "unchanging or unwavering, as in
purpose, love, or loyalty." It is faithfulness and devotion. In short, it
is the gift we have received from God.
Abram
discovered God's constancy in his desire for an heir. "We
find Abram in the Genesis story "cutting a covenant" with God. The
ritual involved cutting animals into two halves from nose to tail. According to
the ancients, when the halves were laid apart opposite one another, a holy space
was created. After it was dark Abram saw visions. We translate what he saw as a
smoking fire pot and a lighted torch. But what Abram himself experienced was the
discovery that his life belonged not to himself but to God."
Why
did Abram need to make these efforts? He needed to discover that God had great
plans for him, greater plans than he could create for himself. He "believed
the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness" (Gen. 15:6). In
other words, he understood what God had planned for him; and God attributed that
understanding to him as righteousness." Righteousness can be understood as
living in the way that God wants us to live. The experience allowed Abram to
reflect God's glory onto the generations that followed, as many as stars in
the sky. We all have the opportunity to do what God wants us to, to make our
lives a covenant with God.
God
will provide for us even if we don't think we've done enough to deserve it.
Jesus does not say, "I wish you had done more for me so that I could help
you." Instead he compares himself to a mother hen, gathering her chicks
under her wings. This is such a pure and gentle image of his love. It displays
love without judgment or demands. All it asks is that we accept the love that is
offered. It sounds simple, but what a daunting task!
We
have the chance to say thank you to God for our blessings thousands of times
every day. We have the chance to accept God's love for us every moment. We have
the chance to "stand firm in the Lord" as Paul put it, not
compromising but not trying to win a contest that doesn't exist.
God
will provide. God will provide answers to our worries when we pray, love through
families and friends when we give them our time, and our daily needs when we
help provide for the needs of all. We
do not need to do more, God is enough.