Proper 14

Millions of years ago, nature equipped us, through the process of evolution, with certain necessities for survival.  One of the gifts we were given was a craving for sweetness.  This craving for sweetness drove us to look for sweet fruits and berries, which contain valuable nutrients.

            However, the late William Raspberry, one-time columnist at The Washington Post, said that something terrible occurred in human development, perhaps the worst of human inventions – we learned to refine sugar. 

Our craving for sweetness became a liability when humanity progressed to the point of being able to refine sugar.  Now, we can fulfill our yearning for sweetness anytime we want it.  Now, we do not have to wait until we find honey in a hollow tree or when fruits are in season.  We can refine sugar from a number of substances and have sugar anytime we please.  I please to have it each and every night before retiring.  I tend to favor ice cream, although cakes and cookies are acceptable substitutes.

            Of course, we all know the results of sugar overdose: Obesity, rotted teeth, a number of other health problems, all the result of a perfectly good craving fulfilled too easily, too readily through refined sugar.

            William Raspberry saw this as a metaphor for dilemmas within our society.  We are able immediately, without effort, and far too easily to fulfill too many of our cravings.  We become hooked on refined sugar, which comes to us without effort, and we neglect more substantial nourishment.

            In many countries today, including our own, there is a huge explosion of gambling.  Casinos are built, state lotteries take in billions, bingo operations proliferate.  What is this except a public seeking to feed upon the sweet sugar of instant gratification and quick satisfaction without any long-term effort?  Thus, we gamble away billions in the earnest desire that we will be one of the lucky ones who receives millions with absolutely no effort on our part.  We choose the sugar over the substance.

            During the last century, the United States planned, financed, and built the Panama Canal.  The canal took over ten years to complete.  That meant there were many legislators in Congress who voted for the expenditure of funds for the canal, but were not in office when the canal was completed.  Can one imagine politicians today taking such a long view, risking their careers on a project on which they would never personally reap the benefits?

            Back in the 1990s, the police chief of Washington, D.C. spoke about the problem of crime among inner city youth.  He said, in effect, “These young adults, hanging around on the street corners of the city, are not thinking about marriage, are not dreaming of owning a home and a car in the future, of having a good job.  They are cynical, disillusioned, and fatalistic.  They believe that the future is closed to them, that they will have short lives, so why make the effort?  This is why they take and sell drugs.  They feel that life is so short, that the future is so unpromising, that it is best to grab all that you can for today.  Live for momentary enjoyment because, who knows what tomorrow holds?”

            A generation later, not much has changed.

            I think this is an honest analysis of many of us, not only the young adults standing around on urban street corners, but also the executives of major corporations and political leaders.  We are fatalists.  So uncertain are we of what tomorrow holds, we seek momentary pleasures.  We do not take the long view.  Rather, we want a payoff for our efforts right now.  We seek the sugar without the substance.

            Fatalism kills us.  It takes a great deal of faith to take the long view, to see the invisible in the visible, to work on projects that will not have their fulfillment in the near future.  A director of continuing education for teachers once noted, “A good teacher has got to be in love with the process of planting the seed, but cannot need to be around for the harvest.”  I like that.  A good teacher must constantly be sowing seeds among the students, but will not be present for the harvest.  There are many other occupations just like that.

            Today’s Epistle is from the Letter to the Hebrews.  It’s a beautiful passage that speaks of our forbears in the faith.  The writer of Hebrews says that these people served God without receiving any immediate reward.  When they looked to the future, they had their eyes fixed upon a city.  But it was not a city in the present, rather one in the future.  It was a city not made exclusively by human effort, but given as a gift of God.  This is faith, says the author of Hebrews.  Faith is the opposite of fatalism.  Faith enables us to see the invisible in the visible, to forego the momentary gratification of sugar in order to get to the substance. 

            Therefore, we are able to live our lives, working faithfully, teaching a Sunday School class to a group of children, not knowing how the Christian faith will take root in their lives.

            We give of our time and effort nurturing our parish, not knowing exactly what that congregation will look like in the future, not knowing which of our efforts will pay off.  That is faith.

            Or you volunteer each week at a school, tutoring children in reading.  You will not be able to see the final results of your efforts.  You will not be there for the harvest.  And yet faith tells you that there will be a harvest.

A woman who works for a local home health care agency was out making her rounds when she ran out of gas. As luck would have it, there was a station just down the street. She walked to the station to borrow a can with enough gas to start the car and drive to the station for a fill-up.

The attendant regretfully told her that the only can he owned had just been loaned out, but if she would care to wait, he was sure it would be back shortly.

Since the woman was on the way to see a patient, she decided not to wait and walked back to her car. After looking through her car for something to carry to the station to fill with gas, she spotted a bedpan amongst her supplies. Always resourceful, she carried it to the station, filled it with gasoline, and carried it back to her car.

As she was tilting the contents of the bedpan into the gas tank of her car, two men walked by. One of them turned to the other and said, “Now that is what I call faith!”

            Anything worth doing takes time, effort, long-term commitment, struggle, correction, steadfastness.  This we know.  Do we also know that about the Christian faith?

            Today’s Gospel from Luke tells of Jesus’ instructions to his followers.  He warns us to be dressed for action, to have our lamps lit, to be ready to march at a moment’s notice.  He warns us to be ever vigilant, ever watchful.

            There are folks in their eighties who still can confess to being surprised on Sundays, who still lament that they’ve been working at this faith for a lifetime and still don’t have it right.  Christianity is nobody’s quick fix.

            Perhaps you know this.  After all, you’re here.  You are on the way, on the journey of faith.  You have forsaken the world of the quick fix, the sweetness without substance, and have come here to ponder the ancient Biblical texts, to sing the old hymns, to gather around a mystery that cannot be comprehended in a moment.

Rejoice, keep at it, take the time.  For it is your Father’s pleasure to give you the kingdom.  And we shall see how sweet it really is.