Rev. George Miller
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
“Memento”
March 3, 2013
In conclusion: how do we, with God, get to rewrite the stories of our lives; the seasons of our spiritual existence?
There is a time to be inwardly-focused and a time to be community-centric.
A time to be enslaved to the ways of the world and a time to be set free.
A time to run away and a time to accept our calling.
A time to face the cross and a time to rise above and again.
A time to die; and a time to be born.
Amen and amen.
…You’re probably wondering what just happened. Did we hit a time and space worm hole which jumped ahead 15 minutes to the last page of the sermon?
The answer is no. I’m just having some fun in the spirit of the message.
Today is the day we are passing out our Stewardship Cards as we encourage you to think about what it means to give to the church and to the work we have been called to do within the community.
The scripture selected for the Stewardship Season is Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, one of the most well known readings in the Bible.
It’s so well known, I wasn’t quite sure what to say that hasn’t already been said; in some ways the scripture speaks for itself.
Then, for some reason, the movie Memento popped into my head. Memento is a gritty film-noir from 2001, directed by Christopher Nolan. What made Memento unique was that the story was told backward. The last scene of the movie was shown first; the first scene was shown last.
In the course of the backward storytelling, characters that appeared to be friends were revealed to be foes, what really transpired was totally different then what you thought.
With this in my mind, I took it upon myself to read Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 backwards.
“A time for peace, a time for war; a time to hate, a time to love.” No big difference.
“A time to build up, a time to break down; a time to heal, a time to kill.” A little less gentle and a bit more violent sounding.
“A time to pluck up what is planted, a time to plant; a time to die and a time to be born.”
Hmmm…
“A time to die and a time to be born…”
That sounds impossible; it sounds unrealistic. One can not be born after they have died. Death is death.
…but; but…
Is there the possibility of life, new life, after death occurs?
That got me thinking. A few weeks ago I stepped onto the stage of Highlands Little Theater and balled my eyes out when I saw that the set for “Auntie Mame” had been completely taken down and broken apart.
Then this week I marveled when I saw what had been built in its place: a spacious set made to look like a bed-and-breakfast with pink walls, hallways and working doors.
One set died so another could be born.
Then there was the story we shared last week- the one about the Mexican artist who has found a way to take confiscated guns and transformed them into a musical instrument; a concrete symbol of death into new life.
The Bible itself is full of such examples. In Genesis we have Joseph, a young, fairly cocky kind of guy who is full of dreams and in possession of a really big mouth.
His brothers get so angry at him they plan to kill him and toss him into a pit before selling him into slavery. Then Joseph is placed in jail where he is kept for years. Pits, slavery and jail are all symbols of death.
But the story does not end there. God’s steadfast love is present with Joseph in such a way that he is eventually taken from the deadly confines of jail and his gifts of speech and dreams are used for the good of the people and his own family, and to assist them in times of scarcity.
That’s one biblical example of dying in order to be born. Another is the Israelites in Egypt. They are living as slaves, being treated like no-counts. Due to the actions of God and Moses, they are released by the Pharaoh, but then chased by his army.
As the story in Exodus goes, the Israelites wander in the wilderness until they come up to the Red Sea. Then they discover Pharaoh’s army is charging towards them.
Wilderness, sea, army. Literally, death is on all sides. “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us to die (here)” they cry to Moses.
But what happens? The Lord drives back the sea creating a path of dry ground for the Israelites to travel through. Once they get to the side, they are literally slaves no more.
Symbolically, by walking through the Red Sea, the Israelites identity as no-count slaves dies so they can be born into a new life of freedom and into a new identity: Children of God.
Then there is Jonah. He is called by God to preach a word to the Ninevites. He says “No!” and flees as far as he possibly can go, across the water to Tarshish.
But as we all know, Jonah finds himself in the belly of a giant fish for 3 days. You can not find a more obvious symbol of death then this one.
After those three days, Jonah is spat up onto dry land where he eventually goes and does what God had originally called him to do.
In other words, Jonah dies to living a life of running away and thinking he knew best into being born into a new life of prophecy and doing God’s work.
Joseph, the Israelites, and Jonah are just 3 biblical examples of the spiritual phenomena of having to experience some kind of death in order to experience new life.
…For everything there is a season…
…Of course, for us, we are not just in the season of Stewardship, but we are also in the season of Lent.
A reflective, soul-searching time in which we are journeying with Jesus to Jerusalem. A time, which we know all too well, will lead us to the cross.
If slavery, seas, prisons and the belly of a giant fish do not make you think about death, a cross certainly will.
Like the guns confiscated in Mexico, a cross is a sign of death and terror. No new life could ever possibly come from it.
And yet in just a few weeks, that is the story we’ll be celebrating. Come Easter morning we’ll be proclaiming to the world that “Jesus is alive!” and it’s God who raised him.
In just a few weeks we will gather to announce that indeed there is a time to die and there is a time to be born.
Born into a new life.
The Israelites died to slavery to be born into freedom; Joseph and Jonah died to ways of the self into ways of the people.
Again and again, the narrative of God’s people is that the ways of the world: the temptations, the sins, the false-expectations; they all have the chance to die and as they die, we get to step into a new life and experience a kind of rebirth.
As Christians we proclaim that in Christ we too get to experience the season of death and the season of new life.
Fears die to become expectations.
Prejudice dies to become acceptance.
Sense of lack dies to become sense of enough.
Selfishness dies to become justice.
Darkness dies to become light.
Much the same way in Mexico that murder weapons died to become an instrument of music and life.
The Stewardship Season becomes an opportunity for us to play a role in helping to make those things happen.
The giving of our talents, our time and our finances allows us to play a part in bringing that new life in.
The prison doors open, the Red Sea parts, the running away ends and the tomb is found empty all so new life can commence.
In conclusion: how do we, with God, get to rewrite the stories of our lives; the seasons of our spiritual existence?
There is a time to be inwardly-focused and a time to be community-centric.
A time to be enslaved to the ways of the world and a time to be set free.
A time to run away and a time to accept our calling.
A time to face the cross and a time to rise above and again.
A time to die; and a time to be born.
Amen and amen.
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