|
SERMON
Let me first acknowledge a debt of gratitude to Maurice Boyd out of whose thoughts this meditation has grown. Boyd is a minister whose writings, at his own suggestion, are to be used by those of us who share the task of preaching the Gospel. And I take quite personally the words of the Apostle Paul: "What, after all, are we?" he asks. "Only servants, through whom you came to believe…I planted the seed, another watered it, but God made it grow."
Robert Frost was walking a country lane one day when suddenly he was stopped by a delicious fragrance in the air. He looked over a stone wall and discovered an apple orchard. The apples of one tree near the wall had fallen into the grass where, undisturbed, they were turning themselves into cider. Their sweet smell set the poet to thinking. Soon, out of his imagination came a delightful poem called "Unharvested," and this is the final verse:
May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan,
Apples or something forgotten and left,
So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.
Frost captures the imagination with the idea that some things should go unharvested in our lives. It's a refreshing thought - especially for those obsessive/compulsive types who would consider it a waste of time, if not a cardinal sin, to stop and sniff the air, to look up at the sky in wonder, to sit and daydream. For such people Robert Frost offers some gentle words of deep truth. Allow some things to go unharvested in your life. Because if we can learn to be content with some unfinished business and "loose ends" in our lives, our perspective would improve, our sense of humor might be restored, our priorities would change, our appreciations would be enriched. So let me offer you four quite specific reasons why we ought to heed Robert Frost's advice.
1. First, some things will go unharvested of necessity. Commercial advertisers want you to believe that with the right deodorant or the right credit card or the right beer, you can "have it all." Of course, common sense tells us that's a lie. For one thing there's not enough time to "have it all." There are books we won't have time to read, places we won't have time to visit, music we'll never hear, friendships that will never ripen. And there's no good in fretting over it. So accept it.
And you don't need a preacher to tell you this. Any competent physician will tell you that it's good for your heart and it will reduce your risk of a stroke if you'll reconcile yourself to life's unfinishedness. Alexander Solzhenitsyn knows it. His prayer we prayed earlier affirms the fact that, at best, we can only accomplish part of God's design. And that's all right! But if it's true, we had better get our priorities straight. If we can't do everything, we'd better make sure that the things we do are worth doing, rather than resenting those things we can't do.
We shouldn't feel resentful if some things are left unharvested. Because another reason we can't harvest everything is that there is so much to harvest. And for that we should be thankful, not resentful. In reality our resentment is a form of ingratitude. Our heavenly Father doesn't dispense life to us in carefully prescribed doses of the minimum daily requirement - so that if we don't get our fair share we feel slighted. He lavishes us with color and form and music and beauty. And it is often our ingratitude that blinds us to the fact that what God offers us is "full measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over."
For example, there's a memorable scene in the film "Amadeus" in which the emperor complains to Mozart that, while his music was quite lovely, there were "too many notes." Mozart knew better. God had put so much music inside Mozart that there wasn't enough time to let it all out - no matter how generous Mozart was with his notes. In the same way, one of the reasons why so much remains unharvested in our lives of necessity is because God has put so much in you that you'll never come to the end of it. Will you ever run out of imagination or interest or creativity or love? What makes qualities like humor and compassion and teachableness so endlessly endearing is that they are endless. You can't exhaust them.
We never come to the end of this world of wonders, nor of the wonder that we are. God made it that way. So instead of resenting it, or even being reconciled to it, we ought to celebrate it. If there are those things about life that go unharvested of necessity, then it is a necessity of the best kind, because it's God's good gift.
2. Notice next that some things should remain unharvested for the sake of generosity. In ancient Israel there was a merciful law that prohibited the harvesters from taking every last ear of corn and every bunch of grapes. Part of the harvest had to remain unharvested so that the gleaners (the poor, the widows, the strangers) could find something to sustain them. It was legislated mercy. Some complained. But some turned necessity into a blessing. And by leaving something unharvested for the sake of generosity, they ended up harvesting unexpected joy.
One of the tenderest stories in the Old Testament tells how Ruth, a young widow from Moab, a homesick stranger in a strange land, stood one day in a cornfield in tears. A gentle man named Boaz saw her there. His heart was taken captive by the need and the helplessness of this girl. So he directed his harvesters to leave more and more corn unharvested for her to gather for herself and her widowed mother in law.
The story, you may know, has a happy ending. Their love for each other grew. Eventually Ruth married Boaz. They had a son named Obed, who had a son named Jesse, who had a son named David - who became the greatest of Israel's kings. But there's something even more wonderful about this story. Into this same family, many years later, and recalling this love so generously given and so graciously received, a baby took his first breath on a winter's night in a stable in nearby Bethlehem. Think of it! There in that field something went unharvested for the sake of generosity. And who could have guessed that this "mixed marriage" of Jew and Gentile would one day be counted as part of the Lord Jesus' family tree!
In the same way, when we leave something unharvested for the sake of generosity, we trigger blessings we could have hardly imagined. When we practice restraint, we give the gift of respect to those who might otherwise go without, had we insisted on taking all we could get. Every time we leave something for someone else to enjoy, we not only bless them; we bless God who gave us all things - not only as a gift but as a trust.
Every time we leave something for others, we reflect in some faint way the beauty of God's generosity. Every time we forgive someone, we reflect something of how much God has forgiven us. Every time we treat another person graciously, we recall God's grace to us. When we are patient with someone, it is God's mercy to us that we pass on. Let some things go unharvested in your life for the sake of generosity.
3. Let it go of necessity. Let it go for the sake of generosity. Here's another reason. Let some things go unharvested for continuity. In our text this morning Paul reminds the folks at Corinth that, while he certainly had an important role in the development of their faith, so did Apollos. Paul sowed the seeds, Apollos watered them, but God gave the growth. Whatever that means, it certainly means that the business of growing in faith is a cooperative venture. It doesn't happen in isolation.
Unfortunately, there are people who insist on doing it alone. Often it's because they're blessed with a hyperactive sense of responsibility. They're more than willing to give, but they can't receive. They're the kind who always have to pick up the check. They go through life taking charge and seeing to everyone else's needs. The problem is that when you take care of everyone else, when you refuse to allow others to do either for themselves or for you, you perpetuate a lopsided relationship. Whether in marriage or business or friendships - you would be wise to learn the gracious art of letting others do for you. By allowing some things to go unharvested, you give room and a proper place for others.
It's certainly true in the church. In fact, we're experiencing that truth right now. In a sense this sermon cannot be complete without you. I can stand here and try to make what I think are all the important points. But by the grace of God, some of you will find deeper truths than I intended. Because of your own experiences, you will have insights that I couldn't have imagined - and certainly couldn't have predicted.
Regardless of what we do, we are all debtors. More often than we realize we're indebted to the work of others. In fact, sometimes what I might call my "failure" can actually lay the foundation for the "success" of another. For two years I was a seminary intern at a church in Seattle. I invested myself in the lives of a bunch of young people, none of whom (to my knowledge) made a commitment to Christ. I returned to seminary and less than a year later came back to find that my successor, within a few months of his arrival, had led a bunch of those kids to a confession of faith. I felt like an abject failure - like those two years I had spent there had counted for nothing. And frankly I was jealous of the new fellow's obvious success.
Well, evidently my disappointment with myself was written all over my face. Because one of those kids, wise beyond his years, took me aside and upbraided me. He said, "Alan, it's true that a bunch of us have given our lives to Christ. But you loved us, and you were the one who got us ready to accept his love. If it hadn't been for what you did, it wouldn't have happened." Have you ever felt like you had been put in your place and profoundly honored at the same time? It is both humbling and ennobling to realize that some things have to be left unharvested for the sake of continuity. This business of growing in the faith is a shared adventure.
4. Of necessity - for generosity - for continuity - and here's one last piece of advice. Let some things go unharvested because of life's ambiguity. Do you remember Jesus' parable of the wheat and the weeds in Matthew 13? Despite having sown only good seed wheat, weeds (the bearded darnel) had sprung up all over the fields. The field hands wondered if they ought to try weeding the fields. But the landlord told them that it would be wiser to let the wheat and the weeds grow together. It's difficult to distinguish wheat from darnel when the plants are young; so separating them would be easier at the harvest.
It's a very pointed parable, and a strong argument for letting some things go unharvested in our lives. Often the good and the bad are inextricably bound together, and that means that life is often ambiguous. Haven't you noticed how our sins are frequently qualities that have gotten out of hand? How do you decide which experiences are blessings and which are curses? Often you can't do it until they have run their course. That's why premature judgment can be such a serious problem. Most of us, I daresay, have made the mistake of judging others unfairly because we didn't know enough about them. Sometimes we'll decided who is fit for heaven and who is not, who's right and who's wrong, who is moral and who is not.
But despite life's ambiguity, there is one thing of which we can be sure. Come judgment day there are going to be some surprises. We have that on our Lord's authority. There will be cries of astonishment from those who are left out, as well as gasps of incredulity from many who are invited in. So let some things go unharvested because of life's ambiguity. It's sometimes wise to wait for the harvest, trusting that what baffles us now will become clear. Ultimately, of course, we must all wait for God's judgment; because that is when he promises to reveal the truth of all things.
Let me leave you with three sentences from Reinhold Neibuhr; three lines that can be enormously comforting:
Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in a lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope.
Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we are saved by faith.
Nothing we can do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we are saved by love.
May something go always unharvested in our lives. And may we all be saved by our Lord Jesus Christ, whose gift is hope, whose work is faith, and whose nature is love.
|
