A sermon based on 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
In the name of Jesus; amen.
Yesterday I went to visit a friend of mine who lives in Worcester. I’ve been trying to find a time to get away for the day and I finally took yesterday to do it.
It was a wonderful day, despite the drive and the short amount of time I actually had to spend with her. She spoiled me by taking me out to lunch and treating me to a wonderful meal including a piece of peanut butter pie for dessert. And then when we returned to her apartment she asked me if I wanted to take a nap. She put me in her bed, turned on her electric blanket and put her two dachshunds under the covers to cuddle with me. (I love her puppies.)
I needed it, a day like that where someone pampered me. I had been feeling deprived and weighed down by it. I realized that my situation with my son and his lead poisoning has been taking its toll on me and I needed to do something about it.
Now I’m not saying these things to ask for pity or to incur guilt feelings. I don’t want those things. I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of care and prayers that I have received and those are the things that I most desire right now. But I needed a day when the parts of me that felt most empty were filled up.
A few days ago I found this quote from and I want to share it with you today. It’s from the Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran.
“Then a woman said,
Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises
Was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being,
The more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the
Very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?”
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
Today we enter into my favorite time of the Church Year: Lent. It might seem strange that this is my favorite time of the year. It’s by far the busiest and the most solemn. It is a time of emptying out and repenting. We don’t say that “A” word, the word of rejoicing and praise.
I can guarantee that hymns won’t be upbeat, the kind where you see me dancing and pulling out the rhythm instruments that I so love. The readings in worship will point us to the cross; a place of pure and total emptiness, a place of sorrow.
You will hear the word repentance and you will be reminded over and over again about sin and I love this time.
Over the last few months I have heard the comment that things happen for a reason. I know that this is one of those things that people say to offer comfort when a person is going through a particularly difficult time. But I have never subscribed to that notion.
Bad things happen because bad things happen. Yes, sometimes bad things happen as a result of something else; we make a bad choice and as a result bad things happen. And sometimes things just happen outside of our control.
But I have trouble getting around the idea that bad things happen to us for a reason.
In 2 Corinthians, Paul talks about being through a long-list of difficulties: afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonment, riots, labors, sleepless nights, and hunger. Paul lived through it all, experienced all sorts of bad things.
And those bad things were a result of how he was living his life for God. Once could say that they happened for a reason, but that implies that God wanted them to happen, that God made them happen and I just don’t agree with that.
See I believe that God gives purpose to the bad things. A God of grace and love doesn’t create reasons for bad things to happen. A God of grace and love looks at those bad things and creates a new purpose for our experience.
If we are emptied then God uses our emptiness for a purpose: to create a place for joy.
This is a time that God uses for a purpose. It is a purposeful time; to look at sin and sorrow so that we can see the joy that God has made for us.
And maybe it is all semantics, after all reason and purpose seem to be synonymous: words that mean the same thing, that are interchangeable with one another.
Sometimes knowing that there is a reason for why something bad happened can bring us comfort. But there is more to life than just explanations for why bad things happen.
And the gift that God gives us in remembering our sin is to give us new purpose in our lives. The gift that God gives us in our sorrows is to grant us new purpose in how we live.
The cross is coming and it has more than just a reason for being. The reason that Christ suffered and died was to ensure forgiveness our sin, but the purpose of the cross was to give us a new life despite our sin.
May you see the purpose that God has for you in this season of Lent and may the empty places in you be filled with the purpose of God through grace and his great love.
Amen.
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