The Wisdom of Giving




Ecclesiastes 11:1-8
March 24, 2013

Send out your bread upon the waters,
   
     for after many days you will get it back. 

Divide your means seven ways, or even eight,
   
     for you do not know what disaster may happen on earth. 

When clouds are full,
   
     they empty rain on the earth;

         whether a tree falls to the south or to the north,
   
              in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie. 

Whoever observes the wind will not sow;
   
     and whoever regards the clouds will not reap.
Just as you do not know how the breath comes to the bones
     in the mother’s womb,
         so you do not know the work of God,
              who makes everything.
     In the morning sow your seed, and at evening do not let your hands be idle; for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good.
     Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun.
     Even those who live for many years should rejoice in them all; yet let them remember that the days of darkness will be many. All that comes is vanity.

            That opening phrase from our passage is powerful:

Send out your bread upon the waters,
   
            for after many days you will get it back. 

Divide your means seven ways, or even eight,
   
            for you do not know what disaster may happen on earth. 


            It’s a passage that tells us that one of the most important things in life is learning to be generous in everything. The passage guides us by saying, in a poetic way, that if we cast what we have out into the world, it may even come back to benefit us. And when we give, give broadly so that we can make a difference in places that we didn’t even know needed our help. In essence, we need to take what we have and share it all around—seven or even eight ways—so that we give in time, effort, attitude, speech, and money.

            What does it mean to have this kind of spirit of generosity in all of life? It means to be ready at all times and in all situations to give how God calls us to give. Back in World War II, a badly wounded B-17 bomber sputtered over Germany, trying to make it back to the coast after being terribly damaged by heavy artillery. Half the crew on the plane was wounded, and one was dead. The pilot, 21-year-old, former West Virginia farm boy Charles Brown, and co-pilot, Pinky Luke, looked out the left side windows of their plane in horror. There, flying three feet above their wing, was a German Messerschmitt ready to pull back and open fire. They were certainly going to die.

            Luke said, “My God, this is a nightmare.” Brown replied, “He’s going to destroy us.” Then something odd happened. The pilot of the Messerschmitt nodded to them and motioned for them to follow. Brown and Luke were dumbfounded.

            Rewind to fifteen minutes earlier. German Luftwaffe air ace, 2nd Lt. Franz Stigler, stood by his Messerschmitt, smoking a cigarette, when an odd noise caused him to look over to his right. An American B-17 bomber flew by, barely scraping the treetops. Flicking his cigarette away, and saluting the ground crew who looked on in stunned silence, Stigler climbed into his plane, started the engine, and taxied to the runway. His mind was on three things: avenging his younger brother, August’s, death a year earlier; taking down a dreaded bomber like the ones that had killed friends and family on bombing runs; and getting his last remaining “kill” that would earn him the Knight’s Cross, a medal officially recognizing him as one of the top pilots in the Nazi Luftwaffe.

            He gunned the engine, as the plane climbed, so he could catch up to the B-17. There it was in his sights. He drew closer, finger on the trigger of his guns. One little squeeze and the plane would plunge in a fireball. He readied to open fire, but then became slightly puzzled. Why wasn’t the tail gunner on the B-17 firing back? As he drew in closer he realized that the tail gunner was dead. He then wondered why no other guns were firing. He pulled up alongside and could see into the plane through its shredded sides. The crewmen were ignoring him as they desperately tended to their crewmates’ wounds. Pulling up to the front, he looked at the pilot and co-pilot, and saw terror in their eyes. Stigler realized that if he shot this plane down, it would be murder, not duty.

            Holding his rosary in his hand, and praying for guidance, he motioned for the pilot to follow him. Slowly he led them through German territory toward the North Sea, protecting them from German artillery. It wasn’t as odd a sight as you might think. The Germans had regularly repaired downed B-17s for training. It would have looked to soldiers on the ground as though the Germans were flying a downed American plane to a Luftwaffe base. Still, if anyone decided to report Stigler for this, or even investigate it, he would be court-marshaled and mostly likely shot. What became clear to Stigler, though, was that protecting these American soldiers was his duty, a duty given by God.

            Eventually he got the plane to the coast, and with salutes back and forth, managed to send them off with a prayer of blessing. The plane did make it back to England with only one of its four engines working, a shot off tail-rudder, and one landing wheel. Brown, Luke, and the rest of the crew would be grateful for the rest of their lives to this mysterious German pilot.

            Fast-forward fifty years. Charles Brown had always wondered what had happened to this brave German pilot. Had he been shot down in battle? Did he get court-marshaled? Was he still alive? Periodically he had tried to find out through veteran’s groups, but could get no information. In 1990 he got an idea. He put an ad in a German paper, looking for information on the pilot. A surprised and delighted Stigler eventually saw the ad and responded.

            After the war, Stigler had moved from Germany to Vancouver, B.C. He had become a successful businessman there. Upon receiving the ad from friends in Germany, he contacted Brown by letter, suggesting that they meet in the summer in Florida. He had also always wondered whether the plane had made it back to England, and, if so, what had happened to that pilot. Brown couldn’t wait and called Stigler immediately. Eventually they did meet face-to-face in a Florida hotel, and from there became best friends.

            Their families vacationed together, the two of them played golf together, took fishing trips together, and they also managed to have a reunion together of the remaining B-17 crewmembers. Stigler often said that the only good thing that came out of World War II for him was his friendship with Brown.

            What makes this story so remarkable is that Franz Stigler gave when he was expected to take. He put his reputation, his rank, his career, and even his life at risk because he had a generosity of spirit. Despite the fact that his job was to take lives, something inside him pushed him to give life no matter what the threat to his own life was. That something inside of him was the Spirit.

            Giving, generosity, charity, kindness, altruism, selflessness, self-sacrifice, benevolence, and love are all words that are central to the Christian life. Unfortunately these aren’t always the words people outside of Christianity use when they complain about Christians. Instead, they often say things like, “Christianity has caused more wars than anything else…” I do have a pet peeve about this statement. Each time I hear this statement I wonder if these people think that humans are naturally peaceful, loving, and non-violent in their basic nature. I wonder if they think that human nature has no role in all of those supposedly “religious” wars. I wonder if it ever crosses their minds that those wars are started for human reasons, and religion is simply abused to justify them.

            I also hear people say that, “Christians are superstitious and weak, and that religion is a crutch.” If you pay attention at all to what Bill Maher, on HBO’s “Real Time,” consistently says about Christians and religious people, you hear comments similar to this. I also hear that “Christians are ignorant and unenlightened,” that “Christians are judgmental, hypocritical, and too political,” and that “the world would be better off without Christianity and religion.”

            What’s funny, and ironic, about these statements (especially the last one) is that while they sound true, they obscure that fact that perhaps the greatest gift of Christianity to the world has been our generosity. If you look historically at the world, especially at the changes made culturally once Christianity has come into the culture, you notice a gradual increase in generosity—not only financial generosity, but of people being willing to lift up those who are struggling, disabled, and impoverished. I won’t pretend that it happened overnight, or that there haven’t been struggles over time. But if you look at the history of the world, Christianity’s imprint is that it has made the world better through an ever-increasing generosity. And when Christianity has been stamped out, such as in communist Russia or China, generosity has similarly been stamped out.

            Giving, generosity, charity, kindness, altruism, selflessness, self-sacrifice, benevolence, and love have all grown in the world because of Christianity. When you look at the largest charities in the world, they are dominated by Christian charities, or Christian-rooted charities, that make a major difference. For example, just look at the top ten charities in this country:

  1. The United Way—while this is not a Christian charity, per se, it is a charity started in the 1800s by a Denver laywoman, along with a Catholic priest, two Protestant pastors, and a rabbi: Frances Wisebart Jacobs, Msgr. William J.O’Ryan, the Rev. Myron W. Reed, Dean H. Martyn Hart, and Rabbi William S. Friedman. It was begun to help fund local health and welfare agencies.
  2. The Salvation Army—this is actually a Christian denomination that is committed to helping anyone in need.
  3. Catholic Charities—an arm of the Roman Catholic Church that offers counseling, tutoring, food, healthcare, emergency care, and so much more.
  4. Feeding America—this organization oversees 1500 food cupboards, like ours, across the country.
  5. The Red Cross—the name says it all, as does it’s symbol, a red cross.
  6. Food for the Poor—this organization oversees efforts throughout Africa and the third world to feed people in poverty
  7. American Cancer Society—this is obviously not a Christian charity, although I suspect Christians are major contributors.
  8. World Vision—this organization provides blankets, clothes, and all sorts of services to impoverished areas worldwide.
  9. The YMCA—otherwise known as the Young Men’s Christian Association
  10. Goodwill—this is an organization started by a Methodist minister in the early 1900s to clothe the poor.

            In addition to all of this, 15 of top 25 charities are Christian or Christian-rooted. That’s our legacy. We Christians have a worldwide legacy of generosity. We have a legacy of compassion, care, and love. We’re not always given credit for it. In fact, often this aspect of us is ignore. What many people don’t know is that when disasters hit, among the first responders are always disaster relief organizations of most Christian denominations, such as Presbyterian Disaster Relief. And what people really don’t know is that Christians are the ones left when governments and the U.N. leave. If you go to Haiti, New Orleans, Southeast Asia, Japan, Joplin, and so many other places struggling to overcome disasters, you will find Christians still there. Calvin Presbyterian Church is part of that, having had members of our church help with cleanup effort mission trips to Joplin and Indiana. This is our legacy.

            This is a legacy emphasized throughout the Bible, and in our passage for today: “Send out your bread upon the waters,
 for after many days you will get it back.” This is rooted in the idea that if you are giving, you create a gifted culture that comes back to you. When we are generous in the world, we enhance the world’s generosity.

            To be Christian is to be generous. Albert Lexie understands this. Do you know Albert? You may have seen him. For the past thirty years he has been shining shoes at Children’s Hospital for between $3 and $5 a pair. He has lived a very humble life. But what most people don’t know about him is that over the past thirty years he has contributed every tip he has received, and 1/3rd of his earnings, to Children’s Hospital’s Free Care Fund. He has spent his life helping children. His contributions have amounted to more than $200,000.

                 “Send out your bread upon the waters,
 for after many days you will get it back.” We are called to be a generous people, whether it means giving to this church, giving to a charity, giving $1 or $20 to a homeless person on the street, or giving in a way that improves life. It’s not so much a matter of where you give to, but that you give to. I’m a big believer in giving. It’s important when the church is part of that, but we’re not the only place to give. I believe in tithing 10% of income, as the Bible says, but I also believe what Ecclesiastes says, which is that you should "Divide your means seven ways, or even eight,
 for you do not know what disaster may happen on earth.” In other words, the church should be part of your giving, but so should that homeless person, those charities that I listed before, friends who are in need, and everything else. When we divide our means, we give to many places, knowing that in doing so we care for disasters that take place even in places we have no awareness of.

            As a final comment, one of the things that impresses me about the generation coming up is that they’ve internalized much of this Christian message. When I look at most senior projects today, they are almost always efforts to help a charity or charitable organization. For instance, Zoe Dilts hosted an art show several weeks ago here at Calvin Church. Originally it was just supposed to be just a few pieces by her and some friends. It turned into a large art show that included the hidden (from us) talents of many of our members. We had paintings, crafts, sculptures, intricate baskets, cartoons, and so much more. And in the process Zoe raised $578 for the Zelienople Pre-School. That is Christian generosity! 

            All of us are called to be on the constant look-out for ways to be generous, so that we can let God’s grace grow and flow.

            Amen.

The Wisdom of Choosing to Be Wise




Ecclesiastes 7:1-14
March 17, 2013

A good name is better than precious ointment,
   
      and the day of death, than the day of birth. 

It is better to go to the house of mourning
   
      than to go to the house of feasting;

            for this is the end of everyone,
   
                 and the living will lay it to heart. 

Sorrow is better than laughter,
   
      for by sadness of countenance the heart is made glad. 

The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning;
   
      but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. 

It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise
   
      than to hear the song of fools. 

For like the crackling of thorns under a pot,
   
      so is the laughter of fools;
   
            this also is vanity. 

Surely oppression makes the wise foolish,
   
      and a bribe corrupts the heart. 

Better is the end of a thing than its beginning;
   
      the patient in spirit are better than the proud in spirit. 

Do not be quick to anger,
   
      for anger lodges in the bosom of fools. 

Do not say, ‘Why were the former days better than these?’
   
      For it is not from wisdom that you ask this. 

Wisdom is as good as an inheritance,
   
      An advantage to those who see the sun. 

For the protection of wisdom is like the protection of money,
   
      and the advantage of knowledge is that wisdom
            gives life to the one who possesses it. 

Consider the work of God;
   
      who can make straight what he has made crooked?

On the day of prosperity be joyful, and on the day of adversity consider; God has made the one as well as the other, so that mortals may not find out anything that will come after them.

            At some point today, if you turn on your television, you will see a beer commercial for Bud Light, Miller Light, Coors Light, or some other beer. And it will show people having a blast. They will be smiling, joking, and basically having the kind of fun you never get to have anymore, or wish you could have more often. They will make you wish you were at that bar with them because they are all pretty (even the men), witty, and obviously the kind of people you want to hang with. They will be filled with mirth!

            There’s a reason these commercials emphasize the fun you can have when you drink their beer. They not only want to sell you their beer, but they want to sell you a lifestyle of fun, and beer is at the center of it. They imply a crucial question: How can you have this kind of fun without their beer? These commercials are enticing, but they are also somewhat depressing because in watching them you realize that your life lacks this kind of fun. It makes it feel as though your life lacks meaning, or at least the kind of meaning that leads to an enjoyment of life.

            Ecclesisastes has something to say about that kind of life—the beer commercial kind of life:  
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning;
   
      but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. 

It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise
   
      than to hear the song of fools. 

For like the crackling of thorns under a pot,
   
      so is the laughter of fools;
   

            This message can seem harsh, especially for those of us who want to find meaning in a beer commercial kind of way. But in this message is deep wisdom: “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning;
 but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.” Basically it is saying is that if you want to find the deeper meaning of life, you come closest to it in grief than in bars. That’s not a way of saying that bars are bad, nor is it Ecclesiastes’, or my way, of giving a sermon on the evils of alcohol. Not with Ecclesiastes saying that life is found in eating and drinking. The writer of Ecclesiastes recognizes that enjoying life is important, but it also recognizes that it is in the painful parts of life that we learn gratitude, appreciation, and what really matters in life.

            I think that one of the realities of modern American life is that we don’t value real wisdom, deep wisdom. Part of the reason is that we don’t is that wisdom is so hard to define, whether we do it philosophically, theologically, or biblically. Ecclesiastes and the book of Proverbs, two of the biblical books of wisdom, spend pages and pages demonstrating wisdom, but it’s hard to get a simple definition even in those books. Even some of the wisdoms expressed in those books don’t seem very wise by modern standards, which says that wisdom can be elusive. For example, you probably wouldn’t follow Proverbs’ advise to “put a knife to your throat if you have a big appetite” (23:2). Still, the wisdom books of the Bible, such as Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, recognize that in God there is a well of wisdom that we ignore because we don’t understand the necessity of wisdom.

            As for definitions, the word “wise” comes from the old German word weid, which means "to see," or “vision.” It is based on the idea that real wisdom means seeing through life to understand what is deeper and greater. It suggests that life is like a veil or a fog that obscures what is real and true. To have wisdom means to develop the ability to peel back the veil, or pierce the fog, and to see what really has been there all along. 

            This kind of wisdom is not the same as having “knowledge.” We’re a culture of knowledge. Our universities are the envy of the world, but they teach knowledge, not wisdom. We have an internet with a world-wide web that give us instantaneous information. Add to that social media such as Twitter, and you find all sorts of instant info about everything. But all of this knowledge doesn’t make us wise. In fact, it can get in the way of wisdom. Why?

            Wisdom is internal and eternal. As Jesus said, “the kingdom of God is within you.” It is a reservoir of deep understanding that connects us with God’s realm, when we choose to tap into it. Meanwhile, knowledge is external and terminal. It swirls around us from all sorts of sources, and it lasts only a little while. By itself, knowledge isn’t connected to God. We can gain all sorts of knowledge that really has little use beyond the gathering of information, whether it is knowledge about the Kardashians or how to have fun in a bar. They may entertain us, but they aren’t connected to wisdom. Much of the knowledge we have is neutral. It is helpful for our jobs, our homes, or more, but it doesn’t help us live a deep life.

            We have so many people in our culture who walk around with tremendous reserves of knowledge, but who lack wisdom. Some of the most educated people I’ve met have also been some of the dumbest in terms of wisdom. That’s not to say that all smart people lack wisdom. It’s to say that knowledge and wisdom aren’t the same thing.

            Back in the 1920s there was a young man who struggled with the meaning of life. He felt like his life was moving on a wasteful path, so he sought the advice of a Unitarian pastor named James Marineau, who was known for his wisdom. The young American had no beliefs other than that religion was an illusion. He had attacked religion consistently in writings that he published. But now he sought deeper meaning.
           
            Martineau gave him a prescription to follow for a year. For the first six months he was to live in the country with simple farmers, learning the ways of the farm. For the next six months he was to live in the city with alert, cultured, modern intellectuals. At the end of the year he was to return to Martineau and share what he had learned.

            The American spent the year in Germany. The first six months he spent with farmers in the Westphalia region. The next six months he spent in Berlin, which, at the time, was considered the hippest city in Europe. When he returned to Martineau, he said that the farmers were devout, narrow, ignorant, slow-minded, and bigoted, full of superstitions, and basically lacking in intelligence. But, he said, they understood everything about life and death. They had conviction about how life was to be lived, and seemed to live lives that were penetrated by something greater than themselves. Meanwhile, he said that the people he met in Berlin were delightful, intelligent, keen-witted, entirely emancipated from all moral and religious prejudices, yet they were helpless and had no clue or inwardness in the face of the realities of life. Simply put, the farmers had wisdom, the Berliners had wit. Faced with a choice between the two, I’d rather have wisdom.

            What a fool would take from this story is that somehow education makes us dumb, and that lack of it makes us wise. It’s not education that makes us foolish, only when we substitute education for wisdom because wisdom and smarts aren’t the same thing.

            So what makes us wise?  Wisdom comes when we learn from life, especially from pain, struggle, and mourning. Ecclesiastes says,
It is better to go to the house of mourning
   
            than to go to the house of feasting;
…
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning;
   
            but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.

            What also makes us wise is learning what really matters in life so that we keep the main thing the main thing. Simply put, wisdom comes when we learn the lesson of Groundhog Day. You’ve seen that film, haven’t you? I think it’s a wonderful film, and an extended lesson in learning wisdom.

            The gist of the film is that an arrogant, sophisticated, intelligent weatherman from Channel 9 News in (of all places) Pittsburgh, has become cynical and jaded because of his lack of advancement. How could the national news not see how great he was? To make matters worse, he’s sent to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover Groundhog Day.

            On that morning he wakes up to the alarm clock playing “I’ve Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher. He goes down for breakfast to find, what he thinks, are a collection of loser buffoons, all gathered for this worthless event, Groundhog Day. He goes to Gobblers Knob to report, and gives a lackluster, sarcastic report, and then walks away from his cameraman and producer to go have breakfast. They join him as he cynically criticizes everything from the town of Punxsutawney to life.

            The problem is that they get stuck in Punxsutawney for another night because of a snowstorm. He goes to bed in the same inn. The next morning he wakes up to Sonny and Cher singing “I’ve Got You Babe.” He finds the same buffoons having breakfast as he did the day before. He then realizes, to his horror, that it is Groundhog Day all over again. The same events happen, and the next morning he wakes up again to find that it is,…. Groundhog Day.

            He is distraught as he realizes he is stuck in his own permanent, repeating Hell. Throughout the movie he goes through a number of permutations. For a while he realizes that he can do anything he wants without consequences. He can eat whatever he wants (demonstrating this by having a breakfast of everything bad that is possible, and even stuffing a whole angel food cake into his mouth at one time). He gets drunk with minimal consequences. He engages in a police car chase as he drives a car on the railroad tracks. He even gets sent to jail, but wakes up the next morning in the bed and breakfast to “I’ve Got You Babe.”

            Then he becomes despondent. He can’t take this Hell anymore. So he tries to commit suicide. He still wakes up to “I’ve Got You Babe.” He tries suicide many, many times again, but each time he wakes up to Sonny and Cher. He then tries to use his repeating Hell to bed his attractive producer. He tries 100 different ways on 100 different nights. Each time he fails, and still wakes up to “I’ve Got You Babe.”

            Finally, he realizes that he has to change, and to take advantage of the opportunity to better himself. He learns French poetry. He learns to play the piano. He tries, and fails, hundreds of times to keep a homeless man from dying in the cold. No matter what he does, from bringing him inside and feeding him hot soup, administering CPR, and getting him to the hospital, the man dies. It is in the house of mourning that we learn wisdom, and the he is learning. By the end he has completely transformed himself from a cynical, sarcastic, narcissistic and arrogant man, to a man of compassion, generosity, and wisdom. And only then does he wake up to a new day, the next day, the day after Groundhog Day.

            What this film, and Ecclesiastes, teaches us is that wisdom is a choice: a choice to tap into life the way God meant it to be lived. The question is, will we make that choice, or do we have to wait until life makes it for us.

            Amen.

The Wisdom of Knowing that God Is Watching

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Ecclesiastes 5:1-17
March 10, 2013

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God; to draw near to listen is better than the sacrifice offered by fools; for they do not know how to keep from doing evil. Never be rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth; therefore let your words be few.
 For dreams come with many cares, and a fool’s voice with many words.
 When you make a vow to God, do not delay fulfilling it; for he has no pleasure in fools. Fulfill what you vow. It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not fulfill it. Do not let your mouth lead you into sin, and do not say before the messenger that it was a mistake; why should God be angry at your words, and destroy the work of your hands?
 With many dreams come vanities and a multitude of words; but fear God.
 If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and right, do not be amazed at the matter; for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them. But all things considered, this is an advantage for a land: a king for a ploughed field.
 The lover of money will not be satisfied with money; nor the lover of wealth, with gain. This also is vanity. When goods increase, those who eat them increase; and what gain has their owner but to see them with his eyes. Sweet is the sleep of laborers, whether they eat little or much; but the surfeit of the rich will not let them sleep.
 There is a grievous ill that I have seen under the sun: riches were kept by their owners to their hurt, and those riches were lost in a bad venture; though they are parents of children, they have nothing in their hands. As they came from their mother’s womb, so they shall go again, naked as they came; they shall take nothing for their toil, which they may carry away with their hands. This also is a grievous ill: just as they came, so shall they go; and what gain do they have from toiling for the wind? Besides, all their days they eat in darkness, in much vexation and sickness and resentment.

Do you remember the song “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. It was a very popular song when it came out in 1983. The song could feel a bit creepy, like something that a stalker would sing. But if you come at it from a different perspective, you can hear the song as one in which God is speaking to you.

I learned a little trick back in seminary. I grew up not really loving Christian hymns, and I never really got into Christian contemporary music. Still, many popular artists sung about faith and God. For example, the Doobie Brothers sang that “Jesus is just alright with me,” and the Byrds put Ecclesiastes 3 to music in their song “Turn, Turn, Turn.” Earth, Wind, and Fire, as well as Stevie Wonder, often sung about experiencing God and praying to God. So I started imagining that the words of love songs were either God speaking to me, or me speaking to God.

            If you take “Every Breath You Take,” and imagine that it is God speaking to you, it really is a powerful song. Read the lyrics (or sing them, if you know the song), and see what you think:

Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you

Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I'll be watching you

Oh can't you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take

Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I'll be watching you

Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace
I dream at night, I can only see your face
I look around but it's you I can't replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep calling baby, baby please...

            Other than the “baby, baby please…,” this song captures the essence of our passage for today, which is that God is paying attention to us in all we do. God’s not paying attention as a judge, watching with a wagging finger, ready to punish us for our bad behavior. God is watching more like the Prodigal Son’s Father.

            If you think about the parable of the Prodigal Son, after the son leaves to go off on his own, the father stands watching. We’re left with the impression that every day the Father is watching for his son to return, waiting patiently, but also painfully, hoping that the son will come back. You even get the impression that no matter where the son is, the father is completely aware. He hears rumors, speaks to witnesses, always gathering news so that he will be ready for when his son returns.

            God is like that with us. God keeps an eye on us because God loves us and wants what’s best for us. And Ecclesiastes reminds us that wisdom comes when we realize that God is always paying attention.

            I’m not sure we always live as though we are aware that God is watching. In fact, I think that most of us compartmentalize our lives in a way that allows us to live without the sense of God watching. We secularize our lives. We see certain areas of our lives as being filled with God (church, prayer, etc…), while other parts are separate from God.

            The Puritans had a way of reminding church members that God was watching. Old Puritan churches were built a bit differently from ours. They had a large pulpit shaped like a box, which the preacher preached from. The box was suspended off the front wall, beginning about 5 feet up. The preacher had to walk up stairs to get in it. Typically those churches didn’t have crosses, but they did paint a large eye on the front of the pulpit to remind people that they were being watched by God as they listened to the sermon. Of course those sermons were 2 and ½ hours long, so they eyed helped motivate the members to stay awake. I use a different strategy. If I see people sleeping, I just get louder ;-).

            Their eye was the eye of a judging God. I think Ecclesiastes has more in mind the eye of a loving God. And the writer of Ecclesiastes has 3 nuggets of wisdom that come from being aware of God’s watchful eye:

            First, be aware of what you say and how it affects other people because God cares about how we impact others. What the writer of Ecclesiastes says is, “Never be rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth; therefore let your words be few.” The point is that what we say matters because relationships matter. And God cares most about our relationships. Christianity is really, above all, about the quality of our relationships—with God, with others, with ourselves.

            Last weekend I was in Texas doing a weekend workshop for a church. The focus was on helping them to discern what their calling is regarding worship, especially if they want to be more multigenerational. After I preached on Sunday, a friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in over twenty years, took me out to lunch and then to the airport. As you can imagine with old friends, much of our talk was about who she was or wasn’t in contact with, who I was or wasn’t in contact with, what they were doing, and why we were or weren’t still friends with them.
           
            She made an interesting observation about a lot of them. She noted that there were a bunch of friends that she had lost touch with, and she had a category for them: Givers and Takers. Her categorization was a bit basic, and perhaps over-simplified, but it was also brilliant and accurate. For example, we ended up talking about one of our shared friends, and she said, “She’s a taker. I’ve been there for her through many of her problems, and I’ve listened to her complain, cry, and struggle, sometimes for three hours. But then if I need to talk to her, she can’t listen for more than a minute before getting distracted.” She would talk about other friends and say, “She’s such a giver. Sometimes she’s been hurt because of her giving, but she’s willing to listen to everyone and do anything for anyone.” This friend of mine is also a giver, and this simple category helped her to understand how to avoid being taken when we give.

            Basically takers don’t care about the impact of what they say or do has on others. To them, it’s all about themselves. They don’t guard their talk to protect others from being hurt by their words, and they don’t look at themselves through others’ eyes. They expect the world to be forgiving to them, but they are not as forgiving toward others. Yet God wants us to be givers rather than takers. God wants us to give not only materially and financially, but in the way we talk with others. God wants what we say to be a blessing rather than a curse. And the writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us of this by saying, “Never be rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God,…”

            A second lesson from this passage is that we need to make and keep commitments because God cares about the strength of our relationships. The fact is that we are in a commitment deficient culture. We are a bit commitment-phobic. This is true in so many areas. We are commitment shy about institutions, and you see so many institutions suffer as a result, whether it’s Kiwanis, the Lions, or many other service organizations.

            Look at churches. One of the big reasons so many people have walked away from church is NOT because of how bad or irrelevant churches are. It’s because of the fact that church requires commitment. It requires a commitment to get up on Sundays to worship and commit to a relationship with God. It requires a commitment to membership and to other people. It requires a commitment of love that leads to ministry and mission. And the thing most people are the least committed to are committees. Why? The answer is in the name. Committees require commitment, and people don’t want to commit long-term. The biggest problem with churches is that they require commitment, and our culture doesn’t like commitment in this present day and age.

            Our whole culture has problems with commitment, also, to relationships and marriages. People move in together prior to marriage because they fear the break-up of a marriage. And so they test the waters first. It may make rational sense, but it also demonstrates a fear of commitment. And studies show that these relationships have an 80% failure rate. Presently 50% of all marriages end in a divorce. I will never criticize those who get divorced because the reality is that some marriages need to end. When there is a persistent cycle of neglect, abuse, addiction, and destructiveness in marriages, they need to end. But the reality is that so many relationships end prematurely because the couple won’t stay committed enough to find a way to work through the relationships.

            I’ll tell you what my experience is with many of the marriages I’ve seen. My background is in marital and family counseling, and I’ve been able to work with some couples to end their marriages, and with others to save their marriages. The ones that have been saved have been because the couples are committed enough to overcome some of the worst problems. Along with this comes an observation, which is that some of the best marriages I’ve seen in this church have been with couples who have gone through terrible problems. I get to be privy to things that, fortunately, most people don’t know about. Some of the best marriages in this church, and the ones that I admire most, are between couples that have had bad infidelities in the past. I don’t admire their infidelities, but I admire their ability to overcome them.

            Often, as Christians, we judge people who’ve been unfaithful in marriage as terrible sinners. Certainly what they’ve done is sinful. But I believe that God cares much more about how we overcome these problems than about the problems themselves. The fact is that people mess up in life, and they mess up their marriages when they go through times of confusion. With God, it’s really not so much about how much we mess up. It’s about how committed we are to cleaning up. This is not my way of saying that everyone should go out and have affairs to make their marriages better. It’s a way of saying that what matters is how strong our commitment is, because strong commitments lead to a strong life. As Ecclesisastes says, “When you make a vow to God, do not delay fulfilling it; for he has no pleasure in fools. Fulfill what you vow. It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not fulfill it.”

            Finally, Ecclesiastes tells us, “don’t get too jazzed up about injustices because God is taking care of everything.” The fact is that in this day-and-age everyone gets so upset about every social issue, and depending on what side of each issue we are, we can get up on our soapboxes and scream at each other in self-righteousness. Ecclesiastes reminds us that this can be damaging to our souls. It says, “ If you see in a province the oppression of the poor and the violation of justice and right, do not be amazed at the matter; for the high official is watched by a higher, and there are yet higher ones over them.” The point is that we need to do what we can, but not be so obsessed with injustices that it leads us to commit injustices.

            There’s an ancient story about this kind of obsession that took place years ago. It’s one of my favorite stories. I heard the Pittsburgh Steelers’ great Andy Russell talk about this story on television. He said that back in the 1970s, after the Steelers had lost a game that they should have won, coach Chuck Noll walked in and told this story. After he left everyone on the team said, “What the heck did that mean?” 

            Being a bit more spiritually minded than those Steelers, I think you’ll get the point. There were two monks who had not only taken a vow of celibacy, but had vowed never to talk with women or even to think of them. They were seeking purity, and they believed that contact with women disrupted their purity. One day they traveled to a monastery many miles away. As they walked they came to a river where the only bridge had rotted and fallen. They realized that they had to swim across it if they were to continue their journey.

            As they prepared to swim, one of the monks saw a woman crying. He walked over to her and asked her what the problem was. She said that she had to get back to her family, but now didn’t know how to get there because she couldn’t swim. The monk said to her, “I’ll carry you. Climb onto my back.” With that he swam the woman across the water. When they got to the other side, the woman disembarked, profusely thanked the monk, and went on her way.

            As the two monks walked, the other monk criticized the first monk for not only talking with the woman, but with touching her. For mile after mile the second monk berated the first monk. Finally, the first monk replied, “Brother, I let go of the woman five miles back. Why are you still carrying her?” 

            The story reminds us that we can hold onto what we think are injustices to the point at which they become obsessions that damage us. We are called to do what we can, make a difference when it’s possible, and then give to God what seems impossible. We make a difference when we can, but not to the point at which it disrupts our relationships with God, others, and ourselves.

            The point of all of this is that God is watching us because God loves us and wants what’s best for us. God is watching in a way that is hopeful—hopeful that we’ll live in the ways of wisdom that lead to a better life, and always ready to help when we choose that path. The question is whether we are living as though God is watching.

            Amen.