In the Collect appointed for this Sunday we prayed that, “we
may so pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal.”
Do you ever think you get so tied up in the things of the here and now
that you might just lose eternity? I confess that I often am fearful
of that. I fear it for me personally. I fear it for you individually,
and for us corporately here at St. John’s.
When
we stop from all our busy-ness, when we pause from all of the “doing”
with which we occupy our time and reflect, there is sometimes a sense
of uneasiness. We might just be losing the things eternal by being so
caught up in the things temporal: this time, this place, these things.
That uneasiness was well described by T. S. Elliot,
“Where is the life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of heaven in twenty centuries
bring us further from God and near to the dust.”
Later he suggests that this may be our epitaph,
“Here were decent, godless people . . .
their only monument the asphalt road and a thousand lost golf balls.”
Is
that to be our monument: a thousand lost golf balls?
When we stop all of our busy-ness, our endless preoccupation with
our occupations, our careers, our families, our recreation; when we
pause in our activities of our lives of working: writing that report,
or getting ready for the next vestry meeting, or going on another business
trip; or if retired: going to play golf or to play bridge. However it
is we find ourselves caught up in the temporal, when we stop we know
that there is more to our existence than those things, more than a paid-up
mortgage, or a house at the beach, or a comfortable retirement.
We know, in our heart of hearts, that our deepest need and greatest
longing is to be accepted, to be fully loved and to fully love and accept
others.
And we know that need of ours is only partially met. What we want,
what we long for and what we get are two different things. The acceptance
and love we want . . . from a parent, from a child, from a spouse, from
a partner, from a friend . . . is always mixed with anxiety, hostility
and irritation. Sometimes there is so much anger around us and within
us. That anger sometimes is directed outwardly and we become hostile.
That anger sometimes is direct inwardly and we become depressed. Why?
Because I am not completely accepted by others, because I do not believe
that I am acceptable, because I am unable to accept others as they need
to be accepted. And so we substitute doing and being busy for being
loved and accepted.
We want to be loved. We want to find goodness within us and within
others, to be totally accepted, and to know the joy of being in right
relationship with one another, with the world around us, and with our
God. We yearn for the eternal while here in the temporal. What we yearn
for, to use biblical language, is the kingdom of God. Not just an individualistic
kingdom, not just a “me and my God” sort of thing, but a
kingdom based in community, based on relationships, based on communion
with one another and with our God.
Jesus
talked a great deal about the kingdom of God. His miracles and his parables
were to illustrate the nature of the kingdom and our place in it. At
times he spoke as though it had not yet come. In this morning’s
gospel lesson he taught his followers to pray, “Your kingdom come.”
At other times he spoke as though it had already come, “The kingdom
of God has come upon you.”; “The kingdom of God is in your
midst.”, referring to himself.
There is the paradox: the kingdom is now, the kingdom is future. We
are citizens of the kingdom … now, and … not yet. It is
here … and it is still to be.
Insofar as God’s will is done, here and now, in various ways
when we are “in Christ”, the kingdom has already come. Insofar
as all of the ways we try do God’s will, most of the time, are,
at best, half-baked and half-hearted, the kingdom is still to come,
still a long way off.
So here we are this morning, we who profess to be Christians, caught
up in things temporal hoping not to lose the things eternal; citizens
of this world and citizens of the kingdom. We are a mixture of belief
and unbelief, of assuredness and anxiety, of saints and sinners, of
acceptance and rejection, of love and hate; all because we and the whole
creation are in the process of becoming. Becoming what God would have
us be. And we and the whole creation groan in the birth pains of a new
creation.
The seeds of the kingdom have been planted. We wait for the harvest.
We are in-between. In fact, we are the harvest. But, if we are wise
enough to look and able to see, we catch glimpses of the kingdom, and
those glimpses are enough to keep us hoping. They are a foretaste of
what is to be the eternal kingdom.
Where do we see the kingdom today? When you put the welfare of another
above your own, there is the kingdom. A racial slur or a joke is made,
the kingdom is denied. You volunteer and Manna Meals or help out at
Covenant House and respect the dignity of other persons; there is the
kingdom. We turn away and shrug at the genocide in Sudan, the kingdom
is ignored. A friend leaves the Episcopal Church because of differing
viewpoints on inclusiveness and diversity; the community of faith is
torn and the kingdom suffers. You reach out in forgiveness to one who
has wronged you, and the kingdom is seen. You unleash a terrible torrent
of angry words at a loved one, and the kingdom is rejected. A listening
friend supports you when you are hurting; there is the kingdom.
There are times when the kingdom is closer than we know, within our
reach. Jesus often ended his parables by saying, “Those who have
ears to hear, let them hear. Those who have eyes to see, let them see.”
If we will but look we can see the kingdom, we can glimpse it; we can
have a foretaste of what is to come. The kingdom of God is the fullest
expression of the grace of God. The kingdom of God is for people, for
us; for you and me, to grow and to be.
And so, our prayer this day, “Lord may we so pass through
things temporal that we lose not the things eternal.” Amen.