Time
Rebecca Clancy
Genesis 12:1-9 Mark 1:9-14
There’s one thing that we all here have in common. We all have a great deal of time on our hands. Some of us may be too busy, and so it may seem like we have very little time on our hands. But this is just an illusion. Even if we are too busy, we still have a great deal of time on our hands. Consider the matter statistically and mathematically. If the average life expectancy in the United States is close to 80 years, that works out to nearly 30,000 days. Yes, we all have a great deal of time on our hands.
And there’s another thing we all here have in common. This time that we have on our hands can generally be divided into the good times and the bad times. We may have our own ideas about what constitutes the good times, but there are doubtless common currents – the magical moments of our childhoods, falling in love, the birth of a child or grandchild, the recognitions and achievements we receive commensurate with our individual strengths and gifts, vacations and travel, rites of passage, the things we have done that really seem to have mattered… And then there are the more quotidian good times, the good times that occur day by day -- morning coffee, dog walks, the good will of our neighbors, honest exchanges, holidays, laughter, sunsets, family time.
But too there are the bad times. Again, as individual as our personal tragedies may be, generalities can be made. What about the people you relied upon and trusted who didn’t live up to your expectations; or worse, downright let you down; or worse still, deliberately betrayed you or did some violence unto you? And then there is illness. There are accidents. There is the loss of loved ones, the loss of anything for that matter - jobs, homes, relationships, youth, hope….And too, there are the more quotidian bad times, the bad times that occur day by day – anxieties, fears, headaches, bills, dysfunctional relationships.
So what are we to make of all this time that we have on our hands, the good times and the bad times? How are we to consider it? What conclusions can we draw about it? What can be our take-away? We could, I suppose, simply weigh the good times against the bad - take all the good times and place them on one side of a scale and take all the bad times and put them on the other. If the scale tips toward the good, then we’ve had, in the balance, a good life. And if tips toward the bad, then the news is not so good. I guess that’s one way to think about it, but this is a bit simplistic. I think we could do better.
To do better, however, we must get out our New Testaments. And here’s a wrinkle. We must get out our Greek New Testaments. Because only in our Greek New Testaments can we discern that in the New Testament there are two words for time. The first is Chronos. Chronos refers to sequential time, to all the time between our births and our deaths, to all the time we have on our hands, those 30,000 days.
Chronos then is quantitative time.
Then there is Kairos. Kairos is a bit harder to define. Kairos is that time that is opportune, appointed, decisive, significant, defining, inspiring, life changing, challenging, laden with meaning. In other words, from a New Testament perspective, you could say that Kairos is that time when God acts in our lives, when God is on the move in our lives, when God puts us to use. Kairos then is qualitative time. The New Testament, and the Bible overall, acknowledges these two kinds of times.
Take Abraham’s story as an example of Chronos time and Kairos time. Abraham’s story is a good example, because it keeps close tabs on Abraham’s age. The first seventy-five years of Abraham’s life were Chronos time. He was just, to put it bluntly, some random pagan herdsman in Mesopotamia. No doubt he too had his good times and bad times, but it was all Chronos time.
Kairos time came for Abraham when, after seveny-five years, God introduced himself to him, and introduced himself not just to Abraham but through him to all humankind, because before God introduced himself to Abraham, God had not yet made an appearance in human history. “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you, and I will make of you a new nation….and in you all the nations will be blessed.” And Abraham did. He left everything behind and did as God bade him, thus unleashing the most momentous chain of events in human history.
But after that it was back to Chronos time. Abraham left everything behind and did as God bade him, but then nothing much happened for ten long years. He lost track of his wife. He found her again. He divided up some grazing pasture with his nephew. He got into a skirmish with the locals. In fact, so little happened that he grew impatient.
This impatience is all too familiar in my life, at least. At times I rise above myself. I stop praying for silly or selfish things and pray that God set before me some great undertaking, that God point me in the right direction, that God set my feet in lofty places. “You know I am the woman for the job!” I finish my prayer. And then I expect that God, who I know has indeed worked miracles in my life, and who I know will work more, will work another one immediately, merely because I am impatient. This is not the way God works. God grants us our Kairos time, but not on our terms. So it was with Abraham. He grew impatient for more Kairos time.
At the end of ten years, God granted Abraham more Kairos time. He made a covenant with Abraham to the effect that God was as good as his promises, that he would indeed make of Abraham a great nation that would bless the nations. But after that more Chronos time. Abraham got enmeshed in a lot of family dynamics, and not the good kind either. He took a second wife who bore him a son. This made his first wife resentful. Many hard words were exchanged. But the Kairos time kept coming too -- renewed promises, unmistakable signs, and finally the birth, in his old age, of the son through whom the nation that would bless the nations would come into being. And Abraham came to learn that Kairos time was the whole reason for Chronos time.
And so it is with us. Our Kairos time is the whole reason for our Chronos time. And indeed we all have our Kairos time – when we see God’s justice on the move in history and we join in that movement, when we sense that our prayers have been answered, when we experience a coincidence that we know was not a coincidence at all, when we find it in our hearts to let go of the injuries done to us and to forgive, when we commit a humble act of love and we feel blessed by it, when discern the work God has called us to do, when we look up to the glory of the heavens and know there to be a Creator, when we leap and the net appears…..And this Kairos times gives meaning, comprehension, and purpose to all the time we have on our hands.
You know, come to think about it, all this holds true for Jesus himself. He spent his first thirty years as a Galilean carpenter. Thirty years in obscurity. Scholars scratch their heads and wonder what he worked on. They posit he may have been on the construction crew in a Galilean town named Sepphoris. At any rate, nothing he built survived. Talk about Chronos time. But then he heard the summons of John the Baptist, and he knew that his hour was at hand. He began his ministry with the words, “It’s Kairos time, for the Kingdom of God has now drawn near.” In fact, it is because of his Kairos time, that we have our own. And so it is right to praise him and to devote to him all the time we have been bequeathed. Amen.
Romans 8:25 Waiting on the Lord Many years ago, almost too many to count, I had the opportunity to study the Old Testament at the University of Edinburgh. That means that I had the opportunity to live in Scotland for a time -- so I am here to tell you that there is more to Scottish culture than kilts and bagpipes. There is the Scottish national dish -- Haggis to be precise. In case you’re unfamiliar with Haggis, it is made from the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep. They pack them into the sheep’s stomach, toss in a little oatmeal, and boil it. I only tried it once. Once was enough. Then there’s the Scottish national flower – the thistle. You see thistles everywhere -- on flags, coats of armor, dishware. They were once even featured on the currency. I would have thought that heather would have been a better contender for the Scottish national flower -- it is everywhere, and it’s much less prickly -- but no one consulted me. Then there’s the Scottish national poet, Bobby Burns. Burns wrote in Old Scottish. I actually picked up quite a bit of Old Scottish during my time in Edinburgh. I pride myself that I can recite much of his poetry by heart. Old Scottish is unintelligible to the modern ear, but the Scots still love him. I used to walk past the Scottish National Gallery of Art on the way to class. You could peer in the front door and see the famed portrait of him. If you’re unacquainted with his work, he wrote, To a Mouse. To a Louse. And, I kid you not, Address to a Haggis. And then, of course, there’s Greyfriars Bobby. I guess you could call Greyfriars Bobby the Scottish national dog. Grayfriers Bobby was a good Scottish breed -- the Skye Terrior. He and his master were inseparable, and after his master’s untimely death, Greyfriars Bobby remained at his master’s graveside -- day in and day out -- for 14 years, until he himself died. Greyfriars Bobby is a testament of devotion and loyalty not just to the Scottish, but to everyone. A statue of Greyfriars Bobby stands in the heart of town. At the funeral of his master, when the casket was being lowered into its final resting place, Greyfriars Bobby gave way to grief. He whined, whimpered and pawed at the grave. Beyond his grief, however, Greyfriars Bobby settled into a daily routine. Every day, when the 1:00 gun was fired, a man by the name of William Dow, who had befriended Grayfriers Bobby, picked him up at the cemetery. They strolled together to a local coffee shop, where Grayfriers Bobby ate his daily meal. After a bit of socializing, they strolled back to the cemetery. Greyfriars Bobby settled back onto his master’s gravesite and watched the sunset. There were attempts to lure Greyfriars Bobby away from his master’s graveside, especially in inclement weather, but they were fruitless. Greyfrirs Bobby refused to leave. Greyfriars Bobby is all the proof I need that dogs go to heaven. Do you really think that he when arrived at the Pearly Gates to be reunited with his master, Peter, who Jesus entrusted with the keys to bound and to loose, turned him away on the grounds that he was a dog? That makes no sense to me. And I’m sure it made no sense to Peter. There’s a lesson we can learn this morning from Greyfriars Bobby. And lest you register skepticism that there’s a lesson we can learn from dogs -- this is the whole point of the book of Ruth – that we can learn lessons in unexpected places. Ruth was a despised foreigner. She was feared. She was suspected. She was accused. Yet there were lessons that the people of Israel learned from her. There are lessons we can learn in unexpected places. At least that’s what the Bible proclaims. And it’s not just Ruth. It’s Ruth, yes. But it’s also the Good Samaritan; it’s the Magi, it's the Roman Centurion, it’s the Canaanite woman, it’s the Ninevites, it’s the Ethiopian eunich, it’s Cornelius. And if the Bible hits you over the head with something that many times, and you still refuse to accept it, you’re just being stubborn. There are lessons we can learn in unexpected places. And the more unexpected the place, the more important the lesson. Sure, there’s a lesson we can learn from Greyfriars Bobby about loyalty and devotion, but there’s also a lesson we can learn from him about waiting for someone. Because if you think about it, we are all waiting for someone. Every one of us. It could be someone who is angry with us – someone who holds a grudge against us, someone who dislikes us, someone from whom we are estranged. It could be someone who is stationed at a far-flung corner of the earth -- someone who is called to serve and sacrifice, someone who has placed himself in harm’s way, someone we may never see again. It could be someone who has fallen prey to an addiction – someone who is facing an uphill battle, someone who has made strides only to fall back, someone whose potential and possibility are under siege. And it could be, like with Greyfriars Bobby, someone that we lost – someone who is irreplaceable, someone who enriched and defined our lives, someone who spared us from loneliness and aimlessness. We are all waiting for someone. And so, we can learn a lesson from Greyfriars Bobby, and it is this. Yes, for a time we grieve their absence. We weep. We mourn. We despair, even. We do all these things…for a time. But then we must get back to the business of living. As Langston Hughes reminds us, Life is for the living. We must get back to the business of living – of caring for others, of speaking the truth, of practicing fairness, of sacrificing for others, of sharing our abundance, of striving for peace – of doing the best we can to prove, day by day, that we have heard the upward call of Jesus Christ. While all the while we are waiting for someone. But here’s the thing. We don’t wait in vain. Because we wait, ultimately, through Jesus Christ -- so we wait for our eternal home in heaven where those for whom we wait are waiting for us. And we will know that joyous reunion that Greyfriars Bobby and his master now know. Amen.
John 20:1-18 But why? Why did Mary stand weeping outside the tomb? There is, of course, the easy answer. Mary stood weeping outside the tomb because, arriving at the tomb, she discovered that Jesus’ body had been stolen. But that’s the easy answer. Easy answers are, as often as not, simplifications; and simplifications are, as often as not, distortions. So, let us look beyond the easy answer and ask again, Why did Mary stand weeping outside the tomb? Mary was one of those people whom nature had favored. And nature does play favorites -- that much is undeniable. Mary was tenacious, discerning, steadfast, spontaneous, courageous – not to mention brimming with natural affections. Yes, she was one of those people whom nature had favored, but sometimes that is not enough. Mary had a bad start in life, and that tends to temper even nature’s most generous gifts. When Jesus first encountered Mary, she was not of sound spirit. She was afflicted and tormented. But Jesus performed a miracle that recalled her to life. She became his passionate and devoted follower. It would seem that her past was behind her. Like with so many others Jesus encountered, Mary had been lost and now was found. But this only led her to the foot of his cross. She had endured the entire spectacle. Dark men – petty, jealous, and scheming -- closed in on him. They subjected him to a farce of a trial, and this only as a formality. They intended to see him executed from the very beginning. The disciples, for their part, panicked and scattered. What if they were next to be targeted? But not Mary. She abided with him those endless hours as he hung on the cross right through to his death agony. She watched from a distance as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus deposed his body from the cross and laid it in a tomb. Mary was shattered. She was traumatized. She was devastated. She was forced to endure the unthinkable – the death of one deeply beloved, and to malicious violence. But Mary was not entirely bereft. She still had his body. She could cleanse and anoint it, bestow upon it what loving care she could. And going forward she could become that person – the one who visits the graveside, the one who keeps memories alive, the one whose tears are never exhausted. In time she would achieve a sort of notoriety for it, but it’s the kind of notoriety no one wants. But she arrived at his tomb only to discover that his body had been stolen. So why did Mary stand weeping outside the tomb? She stood weeping outside the tomb because she had hit rock bottom. I have never hit rock bottom. If dread keeps it at bay, dread has done that much for me. But I have seen others who have. It’s a terrible thing to witness, much less to experience. A kind of derangement takes hold. They aren’t recognizable. They aren’t themselves. This is why Mary couldn’t add up two and two. She peered into the tomb and saw two angels robed in white raiment. Why are you weeping? They asked. Now they didn’t ask because they wanted to hear her theory about the graverobbers. This was not the sense of their question. Woman, why are you weeping? They were asking to convey that there was nothing to weep about. And it was the same thing when the resurrected Jesus asked the same question. Woman, why are you weeping? There’s nothing to weep about. I am alive. I am here. I am with you. Dry your tears. But Mary had hit rock bottom, so it didn’t add up. But then Jesus said something. Something cataclysmic. Something earth shattering. Something beyond description and explanation. And something right under our noses. If there’s one trait we all share, one thing we are all good at, one thing we are all GREAT at, it’s not seeing what’s right under our noses. Jesus called her by name. Mary! he said. And suddenly the truth broke in on her. Dimly, but at the same time, and paradoxically, with crystal clarity. She knew. She knew how we know most deeply – in our bones, in our guts, in our hearts. This man so beloved by her – her teacher, healer, leader, friend….he was much more than that. He was the one that time could not bind, the one that darkness could not thwart. He was the one over whom death had no dominion. He was the one she declared him to be. He was the Lord. And he called her by name . Rock bottom? There was no rock bottom. There was only hope, consolation, meaning, purpose, direction, relief, and rejoicing. From his height to her depth, he called her by name. Rock bottom? She now had good news to proclaim, and she proclaimed it for all she was worth. Friends in Christ, her good news is our good news. No matter what you’ve done, what you are doing, or what you will do. No matter how low you fall. No matter how deep you sink. No matter how bad you’re stuck. His deliverance has your name on it. His triumph has your name on it. His love has your name on it. So let us call him by name – Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
I Samuel 16:4-5 Matthew 5:9 To set the scene for our Old Testament lesson -- Tension was rife. Anxiety was rife. Dread was rife. And why? It was because there was conflict, and conflict produces tension. Conflict produces anxiety. Conflict produces dread. And let’s not pretend that it doesn’t. The hold outs among us might stick their chests out and assert that conflict has no effect on them -- that they are immune from conflict. But personally, I’m a bit skeptical. As I’ve mentioned before, in my various vocations and avocations, I have been subjected to psychological tests. And not just a few of them. And one of the areas that is tested is how you react to conflict – whether you are conflict tolerant or conflict intolerant. According to the tests, I am conflict tolerant, as conflict tolerant as one can be. According to the tests, there is nothing that makes me more comfortable, and more relaxed, and more at ease than conflict. Conflict? Bring it on. There’s nothing I relish more. At least according to the tests. But why is it that in the face of conflict, I become preoccupied. I can’t get it off my mind. I become sleepless. I toss and turn at night. And I feel an enormous sense of relief when the conflict is resolved. So, in my own experience at least, conflict produces tension. Conflict produces anxiety. Conflict produces dread. And that leads us back to our Old Testament Lesson. Talk about conflict! But to understand it, we must back up a bit. In fact, we must back up quite a bit. We all know that Moses received the Ten Commandments atop Mt. Sinai. We all know that with the Ten Commandments in hand, Moses wandered with the people in the wilderness for forty years toward the Promised Land. But we might not all know what happened next. What happened next is that Moses died. Moses was succeeded by Joshua, who conquered the Promised land. And after that? The people settled onto the Promised Land. Since the people were comprised of twelve tribes they settled into the Promised Land accordingly. Each tribe deployed itself on a parcel of land. And they all lived happily ever after. Or not. Problems emerged in short order. The tribes did not get along. Surprise, surprise, the strong tribes picked on the weak ones. Why is it that at all times, and in all places, the strong pick on the weak? But that’s another question. Bottom line, there was disunity among the tribes. Beyond that, they were twelve tribes who each deployed itself on a parcel of land. But they were surrounded by enemies, enemies that had not been wandering around in the wilderness for the past 40 years. Enemies who were trained to fight. So, the people were threatened from within and from without. The closest thing that they had to a leader was Samuel, so they demanded of Samuel a king, a king to unify them and protect them from their enemies. Samuel listened to their demand and anointed King Saul. King Saul was the man of the hour. He was a standout. He stood head and shoulders above all others, was strikingly handsome, and teamed with charisma. He was clearly meant to be. So once again, they all lived happily ever after. Or not. There was something wrong with Saul. Now sometimes when there is something wrong with someone it’s obvious, it’s easy to name – as in the case with addiction, or physically abuse, or mental illness. But sometimes it’s not obvious. Ask twelve scholars what was wrong with Saul, you’ll get twelve different answers. For whatever reason, he proved not to be the stuff of it. He had some fatal flaw. Was it his temper? Was it his jealousy? Was it his paranoia? Was it his anger? Was it his desperation? Because all those things can prove to be fatal flaws. In that last analysis, it doesn’t matter what was wrong with King Saul – simply that there was something wrong with him. Predictably, those closest to him saw it first. But no one else was inclined to believe them. They believed what they wanted to believe, what was easiest to believe. And this is how it goes. The ones closest see it first, and no one is inclined to believe them. Moveover, they didn’t want to face the fact that King Saul was one big false start. But King Saul had some fatal flaw. And fatal flaws are fatal. King Saul deteriorated. It became increasingly difficult to deny. Conflict was brewing. It was not yet open conflict. Soon it would be and in terms too horrific to describe. But rumors were circulating. The atmosphere became charged, and not in a good way. Not one knew just how the thing would play out, but everyone sensed that it would not end well. And that brings us to our Old Testament Lesson. Samuel arrived in Bethlehem, unannounced, unexpected -- in full vestment and with full retinue. What did he want? Why did he single them out? What had they done wrong? Was he there to exact vengeance? In a spark would they all be dead? To set the scene for our Old Testament lesson -- Tension was rife. Anxiety was rife. Dread was rife. And why? It is because there was conflict, and conflict produces tension. Conflict produces anxiety. Conflict produces dread. And so, the people approached Samuel with a question. It was the right question. It was the key question. It was the decisive question. It was this question: Do you come in peace? If you remember one thing about this passage, if you remember one thing about the whole book of Samuel, remember this question. Do you come in peace? Because the people’s question to Samuel is the people’s question to us. Do we come in peace? In the face of conflict do we come in peace? Do we come in peace, or do we come bearing blame for things for which we know we are full well complicit? Do we come in peace, or do we come exacting retribution demanding an eye for an eye? Do we come in peace, or do we come rehearsing old grievances, resentments, jealousies, and grudges? Do we come in peace, or do we come pressing our advantage -- power up, poised to defeat? Because the people’s question to us is also Christ’s question to us? Do we come in peace? Have we gone that extra mile for the one who has burdened us? Have we turned the other cheek? Have we declined to let the sun set on our anger? Have we made peace with our accusers? Do we come in peace? For Christ declares that the peacemakers would be blest, and that through them, but only through them, would his kingdom grow. Amen.
