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Did you
know that the wonderful rendition of Pete Seeger's arrangement
of "To Everything There Is a Season," which we just
heard sung by our choir's own trio of Sharon Ulep, Ruth Theobald
and Kate Wilcox, was a Bible passage? It took me 20 years
before I realized it. The song/passage captures the polarities
of life. The passage tries to wrestle with the age-old questions
of the meaning of time. How do we think about and use time?
What is our theology of time? What does time mean to us?
Our opening
prayer this morning called us into a trinity of time - past,
present and future. My challenge for you this morning is:
Do you have a theology of time? This passage reminds us that
God has put a sense of the past and future in us. God has
endowed us with an awareness of the connection of past and
future, as well as the ability to reflect upon where we are
going and whence we have been so we can make appropriate choices
in the present.
The Hebrew
word `eth, which appears in this passage, means "broadly
speaking of God's time," that great sweep of history
from creation to the time of fulfillment of God's promise.
The Old Testament contains stories set in a time sequence
reflecting God's action in history. They are messy stories
as they capture not only the deliverance and saving graces
of life, but also the dark or shadow side as the couplets
illustrate. The author of the book of Ecclesiastes is trying
to make sense of life's ups and downs. He concludes that,
because we experience but a small piece of God's time, we
cannot comprehend the full scope of God's purpose. Although
we have been given examples of God's saving grace and glimpses
of the future, it nonetheless remains a mystery. The author
is attempting to remind us that God has a purpose and "for
everything there is a season, and a time for every matter
under heaven" (Ecc. 3:1) and that we are to remember
that no matter what the circumstances, "time and chance
happen to us all" (Ecc. 9:11).
The Greek
of the New Testament has two words for time: Kairos and Chronos,
the Greek Isles of the sermon title (although in English we
render them under one word: time). Chronos, from whence we
get chronometer and chronology, is about measurable time,
the time of our clocks and calendars, whereas Kairos talks
about God's time and the fullness of time, the eternity or
infinity of time.
Think
about how the culture talks about time - TIME Magazine, the
time management industry, the tyranny of time, "the time
bind," etc. It seems time governs our lives. It is something
to be conquered, mastered, and managed because we know that
it is a perishable asset. It is limited and precious. This
is the Chronos isle. God's time, however, is not scarce but
is unlimited.
The passage
raises the issue of what is appropriate at various decision
points and stages in life. What is the proper time for certain
actions? As I listen to the political discussions, I hear
either nostalgia for the past, a reincarnation of the good
old days, or a rush to a future Valhalla as though we must
escape the present. Yet the present is the only time we have.
It is my observation that we are pushing kids into the future
and, in the process, robbing them of the present and the memories
of childhood and adolescence. Apparently there is now medical
concern about premature puberty in boys and girls. It's as
though we want our kids to grow up faster. While we might
want to accelerate the teen years, the reality is that they
and childhood are part of appropriate developmental stages.
"For everything there is a season."
My own
theology of time has evolved from several encounters and experiences
and some a-ha moments from the scriptures. The most recent
challenge to my understanding of time came this past week.
You know that we were hiking last week in Acadia National
Park in Maine as part of Carl Price's Trail Ministry. It was
a wonderfully fulfilling experience. I was struck very much
not only by the beauty and variety of scenic experiences,
but from the geological explanation that it took millions
of years to create the park and, in fact, that it was still
in creation. The change was imperceptible yet inexorable.
It seemed that Acadia was being created in Kairos time because
it was a time beyond my comprehension.
The real
challenge to my understanding of time, however, occurred on
the way home when we made the obligatory stop at L.L. Bean
in Freeport, Maine. As we drove into Freeport, we encountered
our first traffic jam of the week. The parking lot was full.
It was 6:00 on a Saturday evening, mind you. We made our way
into the store and were overwhelmed by its immensity and sensory
overload. Every item in every catalog they issue must have
been on display. There were snake lines at the cash register.
Everyone seemed in a hurry. This mecca of retailing stood
in our minds in stark contrast to Acadia where time was measured
in millions of years. L.L. Bean time was measured in a frenetic
sense of consumerism. We were so overwhelmed that we left
without purchasing anything, perhaps the true miracle of the
trip. I was reminded of the subway graffiti I once saw in
New York: "Consume, be silent and die." This juxtaposition
of time zones from my life raises the question: Where am I
in this time sequence? Which time zone do I want to live in?
One of
my favorite authors is Kathleen Norris, who wrote Dakota,
Cloister Walk and Amazing Grace, all about her
spiritual journey from New York City to the great plains to
the Benedictine monastery at St. John's College in Abbeyville,
Minnesota. In her writing, she talks about time as a gift
from God and how time is lived out in the Benedictine Rule
or Way - prayer, where we reflect on the future promises of
God; study, where we reflect on God's presence in history;
work and play, where we relish the present. In other words,
a balanced approach to time.
One of
my most profound encounters with time was a spiritual exercise
that my friend and spiritual advisor, John Claypool, gave
me. John, who was one of the better and more famous preachers
in the Southern Baptist tradition and is one of the best preachers
in the Episcopal Church, was in seminary with me. I am pleased
to announce that he will be with us March 2-4, 2001 for a
series of lectures and sermons with the theme, "How Shall
We Hope?" John perceptively understood that my transition
from banker to seminarian to priest would call into question
my theology of time. He recognized my frenetic, workaholic
approach to life and invited me to click the mute button
in my life. Rather than send me off on a silent retreat to
a monastery or secluded place, John encouraged me to go out
into the world, into its busiest places, and click my mute
button and be silent. My task was to observe what was
going on around me and to describe it mentally, without using
judgmental language. He suggested I do it for at least half
an hour or, preferably, for an hour.
The first
week I went to Austin's busiest mall; the second week to Cross
Campus at the University of Texas. That was the place where
the students would be rushing to and from class and McDonalds.
In the third week, I sat at a bus stop on Sixth Street, one
of Austin's busiest areas. Believe me, this was not an easy
task for a person who saw time as something to be filled with
activity and action. He encouraged me to persevere. I learned
that, after a while, I had a remarkably heightened sense of
hearing and sight. I saw things and people that I would never
have seen or heard. It was an exercise in experiencing "God
in the details," as Kathleen Norris is fond of saying.
Perhaps
my first real questioning of time occurred in Japan where
I learned that the Japanese had a remarkably different time
horizon than we Americans. I worked for a company that expected
quarterly results and managed accordingly. I discovered that
my Japanese colleagues couldn't comprehend such a short time
horizon. They saw daily decisions in light of a long time
horizon. For them, measuring results over a year was too short.
Managing in that environment was a challenge as we weren't
on the "same page." We didn't share the same cultural
understanding of time. These were the dangerous shoals of
the Chronos Isles.
The profound
part of my Japan experience occurred on my first day in the
office where a wise old Japanese hand pulled me aside and
offered the following piece of sage wisdom. He told me: "In
your personal life, live each day as though it will be your
last in Japan. Go out and experience the culture at every
opportunity. Don't use excuses like: The children are too
young. I need to focus on my work. I will have more time and
money tomorrow. Now is the time!" On the other hand,
my newfound friend said: "In your professional life,
act as though you are going to be here forever. Take the long
view in the choices and decisions you make." It was great
advice, then and now.
On a more
recent note, I saw the movie Butterfly last week, which
will be one of the movies we will be discussing at our August
15 Jesus at the Movies class. It is a wonderful movie that
illustrated for me the line from today's Bible passage: "Time
and chance happen to us all!"
All of
this mental cruising of time leads me to Stephen Hawking's
seminal book, The Brief History of Time. It is one
of those books everyone owns, but no one has read, including
me. I pulled up a review of the book on the Internet and the
reviewer said this book asks the eternal questions: Where
did the universe come from? How and why did it begin? Will
it come to an end? If so, how? The reviewer concluded that
this book is "deep science." I would prefer to say
that this book is deep theology! A priest friend of mine,
after actually reading this book, posed the question: "Is
God time?" He never went on to answer, but the question
has stuck with me.
You may
remember the story told in Luke's gospel about Jesus going
to the home where his friends, Mary and Martha, live. Mary,
you may recall, sits at Jesus' feet and listens while Martha
is distracted by her household tasks. Martha feels the inequity
of the situation and complains to Jesus about her slacker
sister, Mary, who has left her to do the kitchen clean-up
alone. Jesus responds to Martha by saying: "Don't fret
and fuss over so many things. Only one is necessary and Mary
has made the right choice." The issue here isn't whether
the examples of Mary and Martha stand for the choices we should
make at all times and all places. Jesus is pointing out that
"for everything there is a season and a time for every
matter under heaven."
If you
really want to obtain a biblical understanding of time management,
then Leviticus 25:1-24 and Exodus 20:8 are for you. The concept
of keeping the Sabbath holy, keeping a Sabbath year every
seventh, and celebrating a jubilee year every fiftieth (seven
times seven) are God's way of reminding us to push pause,
as my wife, Nanci, is fond of advising me.
The realities
of living in a trinity of time confront us each day as we
make choices of how to live into God's time within the realities
of our daily time. Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part II
captures our dilemma well. "Past and to come seem best.
Things present worst. We play the fool with time." Returning
to the questions posed at the beginning of the sermon: What
is your theology of time? What does time mean to you? How
do we use time?
From my
own experience, I offer the following suggestions to help
you cruise the Greek Isles of Kairos and Chronos with me:
- Push
pause and do something you've always wanted to do but,
for whatever reason, have put off for tomorrow. Act as though
tomorrow is now.
- Click
mute, sit in silence and listen for the still, small
voice.
- Push
pause, slow down, step back and put off some busy-ness
that can wait until tomorrow.
- Click
mute and remember who you are and whose you are.
- Push
pause and take someone you love on a date.
- Click
mute and listen with friends and family.
- Push
pause, be patient and reflect that "for everything
there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."
- Click
mute and remember that "time and chance happen
to us all," in God's time for God's glory.
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