God's gift of time
Commentary
[Rev. Dr. Mark J. Molldrem is Senior Pastor at Resurrection Lutheran Church in Saginaw, Michigan. A parish pastor for 25 years, he has written articles for various religious publications, organized ecumenical and community efforts in the areas of refugee resettlement and securing a shelter home for victims of domestic violence, and has led workshops for youth, single adults, and married couples. CSS has published his book The Victory Of Faith, meditations on Lenten and Easter texts, as well as his numerous sermon illustrations for Emphasis.]
Every January 1 there is a sense of freshness. It is the first day of the first month in the new year. The eve before, and perhaps the entire previous week, people have tried to set the past behind, forget the regrets, celebrate the triumphs, and anticipate a clean slate to fill with new year's resolutions. Time stands before the reveler like an open door. To walk through invites one onto new stages of life. Of course, once over the threshold, it does not take long to realize that the year gets old rather quickly. Much of what we thought we left behind in the old year is still packed in the baggage we carry into the new. One of the blessings that can come from a New Year's Day worship experience, however, is a deeper understanding of God's gift of time -- how to receive it, how to value it, how to use it.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-13
Imagine the son of an exiled Hebrew, born at the close of the sixth century B.C., listening to the tales of his father and grandfather about times of war and times of exile and times from before that when there was plenty in the homeland and then poverty. A desire mounts to write down intuitions and observations about all the stories. Yet, to recount the history of God's people is like riding a roller coaster. There are ups and downs, horizontal curves and vertical curves, slow climbs to the summit and fast falls to the bottom. Reflecting on the positive and negative aspects of this history would take a supple mind and a clever pen. Consider the range that had to be taken into account. There were good kings, like Jehoash and Hezekiah; there were bad kings, like Ahaz and Menasseh. There were times of blessing; there were times of judgment. There were times of planting and times of plucking. Weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing tumbled over one another, creating a love/hate relationship to the heritage from which one emerges. Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities could have been written about one and the same Jerusalem: "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." As the heart searches for faith and the mind for understanding in all this jumbled story, it is no wonder that expressions from the writer of Ecclesiastes are rather fragmented and disjointed, a collection of thoughts and observations held together only by the soul's probing desire to grasp a meaning in it all.
The opening line in chapter three has caught the imagination of many, whether it be for interpreting the topsy-turvy world created by the '60s through folk rock music ("For everything turn turn turn; there is a season turn turn turn; and a time for every purpose under heaven") or picking out a funeral text. The wisdom of this literature is that it simply identifies the reality that there will be a mix of opposite forces that vie for their time in the spotlight. No matter what we may try to do to shape our world or control its movements, we will be the ones caught up in the seasons of birth and death, killing and healing, breaking down and building up. This is true for personal lives as well as community growth/decay cycles.
The reader should be cautioned that the litany of opposites set up with their respective "times," is not a nod to Eastern philosophy. Lao-tzu writes in the Tao Te Ching, "Once it began, the universe had two parts ..." (for example: day and night, calm and fright, blindness and sight, loose and tight) "... these two parts make up the Way of Nature. It is the blending of these parts that gives the universe its breath. It is the ending of these parts that creates violence and death." To recognize this and then to live in harmony with this is the enlightened goal of the student of life. Heaven and earth are really one dynamic, interactive whole and it is the human purpose to discover the "dance of Shiva." Fritjof Capra, in his work The Tao of Physics, explains how this is reflected in the concept of God: "The Eastern image of the Divine is not that of a ruler who directs the world from above, but of a principle that controls everything from within."
Yet, for the Preacher, the seasons run their cycles "under heaven." There is a great distinction between the author of life and time and the created order and the human creature. "Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth ..." (5:2). Time is God's valuable gift in which the mix of life happens. This mix is not the divine in its dynamic unity of opposites. It is in and through the mix in time that the human creature is to find relationship with God, who is in heaven. "God has made it so, in order that men should fear before him" (3:14). God has put eternity into the human consciousness (3:11), but not to the extent that the creature can become "one" with the Creator. There will always be what Kierkegaard said, an "infinite qualitative difference" between God and the man and woman. Yet, apart from God, life is experienced as a "vanity of vanities." Therefore, it behooves the creature to understand the times, especially in the context of the relationship with God, who ultimately desires the crown of creation to "eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil" (3:13).
Revelation 21:1-6a
Four times in these few verses the adjective kainoz (new) is used. God's touch with newness reaches heaven and earth, Jerusalem and all things. With God, life does not remain the same. It is not just that with the passing of time, like the turning of the calendar to January 1, everything will change for the better, as if there were some magic, anticipatory longing to make it so. It is clear in this passage that God is the actor, shaping the script of newness for heaven and earth, Jerusalem and all things, according to his inscrutable will. "Behold, I make all things new" (21:5). The placement of kainoz right after the interrogative at the beginning of the sentence emphasizes the new reality that comes from the hand of God.
What is new is that the reconciliation between God and humanity will be complete. The image of God living with humanity evokes the tenting of God with the nomadic tribes of Israel before they became a settled kingdom in Palestine and also the incarnation of God in Jesus. The Greek word skhnh (tent, booth) makes this perfectly clear (see John 1:14). The separation between God, who is in heaven, and humanity on earth is no more. The marriage bond is secured and cohabitation with the harlot has resumed for eternity. The prophet Hosea would be pleased (Hosea 14:7), as well as Malachi (Malachi 2:16).
Also what is new is that death is finally overcome. The mortal blow to death was inflicted from the cross; but, not until the consummation will death itself be dead. When Ernest (in the comic strip Frank and Ernest) is asked by Frank what he would like his epitaph to say, he responds, "To be continued." The good news in this text is that God will see to it. The anguish of God's people will be a former thing, now passing away, because God is doing a new thing, which is God's prerogative to do, since God is the beginning and end of all things. Old and new are in God's hand to discard and shape at will. It is God's will to be about new things that will be a blessing for the beloved of God in Christ Jesus. Eternal life is the heritage promised (21:7). What a pastoral word of encouragement and hope for a people suffering persecution then (first century anno domini) or any oppression now (twenty-first century anno domini)!
Paul makes bold comment on this, proclaiming that this newness is already happening to us as we live in Christ by faith now (2 Corinthians 5:17). The reality of the eschaton bubbles like a fountain from the future into the present providing a satiating drink for those parched by the deathly dryness of the old. "These words are trustworthy and true," Revelation says. Therefore, seize these words in faith and be seized by the promised future from God, so that now you may know the wholeness of life through all the various seasons and times.
"The New is in the Old contained; the Old is by the New explained." This little rhyme can be applied to these verses from Revelation which are part of the lectionary for today. Like with Matthew and Hebrews, Revelation relies on and takes so much from the Old Testament to make a new point. Isaiah 65:17f is the ground on which the seer of Revelation stands to catch the vision of a new heaven and a new earth, a new Jerusalem and all things new. Out of the cycles of judgment, the prophet Isaiah perceives God spinning a future full of goodness for his people, characterized as the Messianic age. So, when the Messiah indeed comes, it is only natural that this text is picked up and spun afresh in light of what Jesus accomplished upon the cross and through the resurrection.
Matthew 25:31-46
If the nature of religious language is metaphor, this story of judgment is a superb example. As Lakoff and Johnson explain in their book Metaphors We Live By, "The essence of metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another." It is difficult to conceive of Judgment Day and imagine what it must be like to stand on the threshold of eternity. Yet, imagination is one of God's gifts to probe understanding that is beyond understanding, to speak of those things that are so difficult to render into words.
Jesus takes a familiar image of a king and a shepherd and blends them into the judge who will determine the fate of the nations. The king has authority to do what he wills. The shepherd understands the difference between the sheep and the goats. This shepherd king, who is judge, brings to mind none other than David, the shepherd boy made king, who was "a man after God's own heart" (1 Samuel 13:14). The eternal covenant made with him (and before with Abraham, his ancestor) will come to fruition through Jesus, the descendent of Abraham and David, Son of man, who will come again in glory to judge the world he came to save (see John 3:16-21).
By stretching our understanding of metaphor, we can get deeper into the text and see how it relates to the other texts, specifically in regards to time. Again, Lakoff and Johnson make the argument respective to philosophy and linguistics that "most of our ordinary conceptual system is metaphorical in nature ... and we act according to the way we conceive of things." Using this as a springboard to catapult us deeper into the pool of understanding, let us consider the metaphorical concepts
Time is a Limited Resource and Time is a Valuable Commodity. Lakoff and Johnson identify the following expressions as representative of these metaphorical concepts:
I don't have enough time to spare for that.
You're running out of time.
You don't use your time profitably.
Thank you for your time.
The righteous ask Jesus, "When did we see thee hungry...?" They are asking the question of time. Because time is a limited resource, it becomes a valuable resource. Therefore, how that time is spent becomes a matter of value. This is precisely the point the king makes. Compassion characterizes the actions of feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and those in prison. The Christ-like quality of compassion is what the king notices. Concomitant with that is the recognition that true compassion is extended to "the least of these." Jesus sharpens the servant nature of compassion, when he says elsewhere (Luke 6:27-36) that one should act not expecting anything in return. This would be the case when relating to one's enemies and "the least of these." Jesus demonstrated what he meant when he reprimanded his follower for lopping off the ear of the high priest's slave during the Garden fiasco. Unfortunately, we are left wondering if Jesus may have healed the man. Or, perhaps Jesus seized the moment as exemplary of the Preacher's seasons: a time for war and a time for peace, a time to hate and a time to love. In a split second, Jesus changed the seasons through the power of his person and commitment to establish the time of God's kingdom. Rather than being an all-too-familiar killing time, he would usher in the new healing time, which will be a gift to all people. This gift would inspire the gifted to share themselves and their time, limited and valuable as they are, in ways that will please the one who ultimately rules the cosmos.
In the aftermath of the rebellion of 66-70 A.D., when Titus led the legions of Rome through the bloodied streets of Jerusalem and destroying the Temple, this metaphor of judgment challenges the followers of Jesus to keep asking the right question of themselves. The king, who commands his army of the faithful, will not ask, "Did you fight for me?" He will ask instead, "Did you live for me? Did you serve me?" The litmus test for this will be the way we act in our daily life relationships.
Application
Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs reminds us that issues of food and clothing and safety are fundamental. When these are adequately met, a person has the freedom and focus to develop upwards into fuller humanity: belongingness/love, esteem, and finally self-actualization. Christians have been, are, and will continue to be involved in the nitty-gritty needs of people who are simply struggling to survive. This is as it should be; this is how it must be. As Jesus said, "The poor you always have with you" (Matthew 26:11). The inspiration for rolling up our sleeves and getting our hands dirty with "the least of these" is the hope that this is exactly what the shepherd king wants us to do. He will reward us with the eternal life that has already been birthed in our souls by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 5:1-5), issuing the offspring of faith, hope, and love.
Hope is a powerful force. It has been said that there is no such thing as a hopeless situation unless we become hopeless people. We need hope! Not just the bland, superficial pop-
optimism that says, "This is going to be the best year ever. I know I am going to do everything in my power to make it so. If we all were positive and contributed to the common good, there is no telling what we could accomplish together." We need a hope that can look into the darkest storm approaching and still have the confidence that "in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). If Strauss and Howe are correct in their historical analysis of the American cycles and we are heading into "the fourth turning," a cycle of crisis (as were the years of Revolutionary War, Civil War, Depression, and World War II), we need to prepare our congregations with a grounding in biblical hope.
Time will ultimately give way to eternity; but, in the meantime, to assure heavenly goals assume earthly responsibilities. This is not to say one earns entrance into heaven by what is done on earth in terms of good deeds. Rather, it is to say that good deeds take on the character of the heavenly goals themselves. As we want to be with Jesus in heaven, live like him on earth. Be a "little Christ" to the neighbor. Jesus will recognize his own by the way their behavior imitates his. He did command his disciples to "love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12). As we so identify our lives with his, the power of his promises will be manifested in the present, empowering the believer to live confidently in the hope of new things to come from the hand of God, meliorating even the worst that evil can conjure up against us.
As we begin the new year, it is good to be reminded that this new time is a gift from God to be used wisely, invested prudently, in ways that enhance our relationship with God. Soon enough there will be enough things happening to tempt us away from experiencing the holy in life. Our relationship with God will continue to be tarnished. But, the new cannot be constrained by the wiles of the serpent. What was said in the garden is reverberating down through history since the cross of Christ: "He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel" (Genesis 3:15b). The head of the serpent is being bruised already and will effectively be dealt the final mortal blow when the Son of man returns. In the meantime, hope on, act on; for "It is done!" What God says will be, will be. In fact, it is already beginning. Enter into the new day, the new year to "eat and drink and take pleasure in all your toil, which needs to include compassion."
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
[Dr. Elizabeth Achtemeier, an ordained Presbyterian minister and the Retired Adjunct Professor of Bible and Homiletics at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, is known throughout the United States and Canada as a preacher, lecturer, and writer. She is the author of 25 books and frequently contributes to church publications.]
Ecclesiastes 3:1-13
The Book of Ecclesiastes is like no other in the Bible. It is one of the Wisdom Writings, but it has a view of time and of human life that differs considerably from views found elsewhere in the scriptures. However, it does share some theology in common with other Wisdom works.
Basically, Wisdom theology is a theology of creation. It maintains that when God created the cosmos, he set certain orders into nature and human existence, and the wise person is the one who learns those orders -- learns wisdom -- and lives in accordance with them. Such accord furnishes life and good. The person who will not learn the orders and who tries to defy them is a fool and will find evil and death.
One of the orders that God has set into the creation is the order of time. "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Our text therefore gives what is intended to be a definitive list of those "matters," of all human activity. And it is a very realistic list. It includes the good and the bad in a recounting of all of the polarities of human activity and life. There are moments of joy and moments of sorrow, moments of creativity and moments of destruction. (The meaning of the activity in verse 5ab remains obscure.) But every human activity has its appropriate time, and the wise person is the one who learns when it is appropriate to do what. Everyone knows, for example, that there are times when one should speak, and times when one should keep silent.
The story is told of Reinhold Niebuhr who paid a call on Helen Sherrill shortly after the death of her husband, a professor at Union Seminary in New York. Others expected that perhaps Niebuhr, the great theologian, would have profound words of comfort for Helen. But he said only two words "Well, Helen," and he sat with her in silence for twenty minutes. Her grief over her husband's death was too deep for words, and Niebuhr knew it. There are appropriate times for everything, and wisdom learns those times.
The difficulty with Ecclesiastes, however, is that finally it views human life as without a goal or purpose. Everything goes around in a circle for the author. "That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been" (3:15). So "there is nothing new under the sun" (1:9). Human life is but an endless cycle of birth, life's activity, and then death. And that cycle is repeated over and over again, just as everything in the natural world goes constantly in a cycle (cf. 1:5-7).
We all know that endless repetition, don't we? We raise our children, and they grow up and raise theirs, and those children grow up and raise theirs, and those children grow up and raise theirs, and on and on go the generations (1:4). And after awhile, we have to ask, "What is the purpose of it all? Or does it have no purpose? Is there no goal to human life, no final fulfillment toward which we are striving, no reason for the endless repetition of birth, life, and death?"
Certainly we may do everything at its appropriate time, even following the dictates of etiquette and Miss Manners and Martha Stewart. We will not giggle at a funeral, though perhaps we will cry at a wedding. But we know when to rejoice and when to be somber. We know there are appropriate times for everything. We look down on those, for example, who stand endlessly kissing one another in public. But beyond our correctness, our middle-class politeness, our adherence to the manners of society, is there an ultimate purpose to human life, or finally does it just go around in a circle, leading nowhere at all?
The author of Ecclesiastes, who is sometimes called The Preacher, tells us in our text that God has given each one of us some hint of an eternal purpose. But the difficulty is that we cannot find out what it is (3:11). It is known only to God, and he has set the endless cycle of birth, life, and death into nature and human life, which cannot be added to or taken from (3:14).
To be sure, Ecclesiastes believes that God has given us some good gifts. He has given us the pleasure of eating and drinking and working (3:13), and we should be grateful for those gifts. In another passage, he counsels us to "enjoy life with the wife whom you love" (9:9), and he knows that there is great satisfaction to be had from our home life and from our labor. He even advises us to be reverent and mindful of our Creator (12:1), to be generous (11:1-2) and obediently pious (5:1-6), and to foster the ties of friendship and community (4:9-12). That's all good advice, and it's fine that it is in the Bible.
But that's not enough, and we know it's not enough. We want to know that there is some reason for our being on this earth, some destiny for which we were created as we struggle through all the ups and downs of daily existence. We want to know that our lives participate in some purpose that has eternal worth, and that we're not just glitches in the unending circle of time. We need some assurance that there are a necessity and a goal for it all, before "the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken ... and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it" (12:6, 7). However for that knowledge, Ecclesiastes is not sufficient.
The joyful news is that, contrary to The Preacher's words, God has not hidden his eternal purpose for our lives. Rather, he has revealed it to us in Jesus Christ. He has told us through his Son that time is not going around in a meaningless circle, but that time is linear. It had its beginning in God, and it stretches out toward the future called the Kingdom of God, when the Lord has banished evil and death forever, when he has made earth fair again and his loving rule encompasses all. Moreover, he has made known to us that the reason for our living in that ongoing stream of God's history is, in everything we do and say, to glorify our Creator and to work in accordance with his will toward his restoration of good and peace, love and joy for every human being on this earth. Then at the end, God has promised us that by faith in his Son Jesus Christ, we will not simply return to dust, as Ecclesiastes says, but rather we will enter into the glad eternity of his everlasting kingdom.
The contribution of Ecclesiastes, therefore, is that it awakens that yearning in our souls -- that yearning to have reason and purpose for our living. Ecclesiastes details all the activities of our lives -- all those "matters" for which there is "a time" -- and we recognize ourselves in its words. But then we agree, as the author says, that it's all vanity, nothing but vanity (1:2; 12:8) unless God in Christ reveals its purpose. Ecclesiastes is preparation for the Gospel, and for that we can be grateful, even as we rejoice over the good news that follows.
Every January 1 there is a sense of freshness. It is the first day of the first month in the new year. The eve before, and perhaps the entire previous week, people have tried to set the past behind, forget the regrets, celebrate the triumphs, and anticipate a clean slate to fill with new year's resolutions. Time stands before the reveler like an open door. To walk through invites one onto new stages of life. Of course, once over the threshold, it does not take long to realize that the year gets old rather quickly. Much of what we thought we left behind in the old year is still packed in the baggage we carry into the new. One of the blessings that can come from a New Year's Day worship experience, however, is a deeper understanding of God's gift of time -- how to receive it, how to value it, how to use it.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-13
Imagine the son of an exiled Hebrew, born at the close of the sixth century B.C., listening to the tales of his father and grandfather about times of war and times of exile and times from before that when there was plenty in the homeland and then poverty. A desire mounts to write down intuitions and observations about all the stories. Yet, to recount the history of God's people is like riding a roller coaster. There are ups and downs, horizontal curves and vertical curves, slow climbs to the summit and fast falls to the bottom. Reflecting on the positive and negative aspects of this history would take a supple mind and a clever pen. Consider the range that had to be taken into account. There were good kings, like Jehoash and Hezekiah; there were bad kings, like Ahaz and Menasseh. There were times of blessing; there were times of judgment. There were times of planting and times of plucking. Weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing tumbled over one another, creating a love/hate relationship to the heritage from which one emerges. Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities could have been written about one and the same Jerusalem: "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." As the heart searches for faith and the mind for understanding in all this jumbled story, it is no wonder that expressions from the writer of Ecclesiastes are rather fragmented and disjointed, a collection of thoughts and observations held together only by the soul's probing desire to grasp a meaning in it all.
The opening line in chapter three has caught the imagination of many, whether it be for interpreting the topsy-turvy world created by the '60s through folk rock music ("For everything turn turn turn; there is a season turn turn turn; and a time for every purpose under heaven") or picking out a funeral text. The wisdom of this literature is that it simply identifies the reality that there will be a mix of opposite forces that vie for their time in the spotlight. No matter what we may try to do to shape our world or control its movements, we will be the ones caught up in the seasons of birth and death, killing and healing, breaking down and building up. This is true for personal lives as well as community growth/decay cycles.
The reader should be cautioned that the litany of opposites set up with their respective "times," is not a nod to Eastern philosophy. Lao-tzu writes in the Tao Te Ching, "Once it began, the universe had two parts ..." (for example: day and night, calm and fright, blindness and sight, loose and tight) "... these two parts make up the Way of Nature. It is the blending of these parts that gives the universe its breath. It is the ending of these parts that creates violence and death." To recognize this and then to live in harmony with this is the enlightened goal of the student of life. Heaven and earth are really one dynamic, interactive whole and it is the human purpose to discover the "dance of Shiva." Fritjof Capra, in his work The Tao of Physics, explains how this is reflected in the concept of God: "The Eastern image of the Divine is not that of a ruler who directs the world from above, but of a principle that controls everything from within."
Yet, for the Preacher, the seasons run their cycles "under heaven." There is a great distinction between the author of life and time and the created order and the human creature. "Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth ..." (5:2). Time is God's valuable gift in which the mix of life happens. This mix is not the divine in its dynamic unity of opposites. It is in and through the mix in time that the human creature is to find relationship with God, who is in heaven. "God has made it so, in order that men should fear before him" (3:14). God has put eternity into the human consciousness (3:11), but not to the extent that the creature can become "one" with the Creator. There will always be what Kierkegaard said, an "infinite qualitative difference" between God and the man and woman. Yet, apart from God, life is experienced as a "vanity of vanities." Therefore, it behooves the creature to understand the times, especially in the context of the relationship with God, who ultimately desires the crown of creation to "eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil" (3:13).
Revelation 21:1-6a
Four times in these few verses the adjective kainoz (new) is used. God's touch with newness reaches heaven and earth, Jerusalem and all things. With God, life does not remain the same. It is not just that with the passing of time, like the turning of the calendar to January 1, everything will change for the better, as if there were some magic, anticipatory longing to make it so. It is clear in this passage that God is the actor, shaping the script of newness for heaven and earth, Jerusalem and all things, according to his inscrutable will. "Behold, I make all things new" (21:5). The placement of kainoz right after the interrogative at the beginning of the sentence emphasizes the new reality that comes from the hand of God.
What is new is that the reconciliation between God and humanity will be complete. The image of God living with humanity evokes the tenting of God with the nomadic tribes of Israel before they became a settled kingdom in Palestine and also the incarnation of God in Jesus. The Greek word skhnh (tent, booth) makes this perfectly clear (see John 1:14). The separation between God, who is in heaven, and humanity on earth is no more. The marriage bond is secured and cohabitation with the harlot has resumed for eternity. The prophet Hosea would be pleased (Hosea 14:7), as well as Malachi (Malachi 2:16).
Also what is new is that death is finally overcome. The mortal blow to death was inflicted from the cross; but, not until the consummation will death itself be dead. When Ernest (in the comic strip Frank and Ernest) is asked by Frank what he would like his epitaph to say, he responds, "To be continued." The good news in this text is that God will see to it. The anguish of God's people will be a former thing, now passing away, because God is doing a new thing, which is God's prerogative to do, since God is the beginning and end of all things. Old and new are in God's hand to discard and shape at will. It is God's will to be about new things that will be a blessing for the beloved of God in Christ Jesus. Eternal life is the heritage promised (21:7). What a pastoral word of encouragement and hope for a people suffering persecution then (first century anno domini) or any oppression now (twenty-first century anno domini)!
Paul makes bold comment on this, proclaiming that this newness is already happening to us as we live in Christ by faith now (2 Corinthians 5:17). The reality of the eschaton bubbles like a fountain from the future into the present providing a satiating drink for those parched by the deathly dryness of the old. "These words are trustworthy and true," Revelation says. Therefore, seize these words in faith and be seized by the promised future from God, so that now you may know the wholeness of life through all the various seasons and times.
"The New is in the Old contained; the Old is by the New explained." This little rhyme can be applied to these verses from Revelation which are part of the lectionary for today. Like with Matthew and Hebrews, Revelation relies on and takes so much from the Old Testament to make a new point. Isaiah 65:17f is the ground on which the seer of Revelation stands to catch the vision of a new heaven and a new earth, a new Jerusalem and all things new. Out of the cycles of judgment, the prophet Isaiah perceives God spinning a future full of goodness for his people, characterized as the Messianic age. So, when the Messiah indeed comes, it is only natural that this text is picked up and spun afresh in light of what Jesus accomplished upon the cross and through the resurrection.
Matthew 25:31-46
If the nature of religious language is metaphor, this story of judgment is a superb example. As Lakoff and Johnson explain in their book Metaphors We Live By, "The essence of metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another." It is difficult to conceive of Judgment Day and imagine what it must be like to stand on the threshold of eternity. Yet, imagination is one of God's gifts to probe understanding that is beyond understanding, to speak of those things that are so difficult to render into words.
Jesus takes a familiar image of a king and a shepherd and blends them into the judge who will determine the fate of the nations. The king has authority to do what he wills. The shepherd understands the difference between the sheep and the goats. This shepherd king, who is judge, brings to mind none other than David, the shepherd boy made king, who was "a man after God's own heart" (1 Samuel 13:14). The eternal covenant made with him (and before with Abraham, his ancestor) will come to fruition through Jesus, the descendent of Abraham and David, Son of man, who will come again in glory to judge the world he came to save (see John 3:16-21).
By stretching our understanding of metaphor, we can get deeper into the text and see how it relates to the other texts, specifically in regards to time. Again, Lakoff and Johnson make the argument respective to philosophy and linguistics that "most of our ordinary conceptual system is metaphorical in nature ... and we act according to the way we conceive of things." Using this as a springboard to catapult us deeper into the pool of understanding, let us consider the metaphorical concepts
Time is a Limited Resource and Time is a Valuable Commodity. Lakoff and Johnson identify the following expressions as representative of these metaphorical concepts:
I don't have enough time to spare for that.
You're running out of time.
You don't use your time profitably.
Thank you for your time.
The righteous ask Jesus, "When did we see thee hungry...?" They are asking the question of time. Because time is a limited resource, it becomes a valuable resource. Therefore, how that time is spent becomes a matter of value. This is precisely the point the king makes. Compassion characterizes the actions of feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and those in prison. The Christ-like quality of compassion is what the king notices. Concomitant with that is the recognition that true compassion is extended to "the least of these." Jesus sharpens the servant nature of compassion, when he says elsewhere (Luke 6:27-36) that one should act not expecting anything in return. This would be the case when relating to one's enemies and "the least of these." Jesus demonstrated what he meant when he reprimanded his follower for lopping off the ear of the high priest's slave during the Garden fiasco. Unfortunately, we are left wondering if Jesus may have healed the man. Or, perhaps Jesus seized the moment as exemplary of the Preacher's seasons: a time for war and a time for peace, a time to hate and a time to love. In a split second, Jesus changed the seasons through the power of his person and commitment to establish the time of God's kingdom. Rather than being an all-too-familiar killing time, he would usher in the new healing time, which will be a gift to all people. This gift would inspire the gifted to share themselves and their time, limited and valuable as they are, in ways that will please the one who ultimately rules the cosmos.
In the aftermath of the rebellion of 66-70 A.D., when Titus led the legions of Rome through the bloodied streets of Jerusalem and destroying the Temple, this metaphor of judgment challenges the followers of Jesus to keep asking the right question of themselves. The king, who commands his army of the faithful, will not ask, "Did you fight for me?" He will ask instead, "Did you live for me? Did you serve me?" The litmus test for this will be the way we act in our daily life relationships.
Application
Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs reminds us that issues of food and clothing and safety are fundamental. When these are adequately met, a person has the freedom and focus to develop upwards into fuller humanity: belongingness/love, esteem, and finally self-actualization. Christians have been, are, and will continue to be involved in the nitty-gritty needs of people who are simply struggling to survive. This is as it should be; this is how it must be. As Jesus said, "The poor you always have with you" (Matthew 26:11). The inspiration for rolling up our sleeves and getting our hands dirty with "the least of these" is the hope that this is exactly what the shepherd king wants us to do. He will reward us with the eternal life that has already been birthed in our souls by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 5:1-5), issuing the offspring of faith, hope, and love.
Hope is a powerful force. It has been said that there is no such thing as a hopeless situation unless we become hopeless people. We need hope! Not just the bland, superficial pop-
optimism that says, "This is going to be the best year ever. I know I am going to do everything in my power to make it so. If we all were positive and contributed to the common good, there is no telling what we could accomplish together." We need a hope that can look into the darkest storm approaching and still have the confidence that "in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). If Strauss and Howe are correct in their historical analysis of the American cycles and we are heading into "the fourth turning," a cycle of crisis (as were the years of Revolutionary War, Civil War, Depression, and World War II), we need to prepare our congregations with a grounding in biblical hope.
Time will ultimately give way to eternity; but, in the meantime, to assure heavenly goals assume earthly responsibilities. This is not to say one earns entrance into heaven by what is done on earth in terms of good deeds. Rather, it is to say that good deeds take on the character of the heavenly goals themselves. As we want to be with Jesus in heaven, live like him on earth. Be a "little Christ" to the neighbor. Jesus will recognize his own by the way their behavior imitates his. He did command his disciples to "love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12). As we so identify our lives with his, the power of his promises will be manifested in the present, empowering the believer to live confidently in the hope of new things to come from the hand of God, meliorating even the worst that evil can conjure up against us.
As we begin the new year, it is good to be reminded that this new time is a gift from God to be used wisely, invested prudently, in ways that enhance our relationship with God. Soon enough there will be enough things happening to tempt us away from experiencing the holy in life. Our relationship with God will continue to be tarnished. But, the new cannot be constrained by the wiles of the serpent. What was said in the garden is reverberating down through history since the cross of Christ: "He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel" (Genesis 3:15b). The head of the serpent is being bruised already and will effectively be dealt the final mortal blow when the Son of man returns. In the meantime, hope on, act on; for "It is done!" What God says will be, will be. In fact, it is already beginning. Enter into the new day, the new year to "eat and drink and take pleasure in all your toil, which needs to include compassion."
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
[Dr. Elizabeth Achtemeier, an ordained Presbyterian minister and the Retired Adjunct Professor of Bible and Homiletics at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, is known throughout the United States and Canada as a preacher, lecturer, and writer. She is the author of 25 books and frequently contributes to church publications.]
Ecclesiastes 3:1-13
The Book of Ecclesiastes is like no other in the Bible. It is one of the Wisdom Writings, but it has a view of time and of human life that differs considerably from views found elsewhere in the scriptures. However, it does share some theology in common with other Wisdom works.
Basically, Wisdom theology is a theology of creation. It maintains that when God created the cosmos, he set certain orders into nature and human existence, and the wise person is the one who learns those orders -- learns wisdom -- and lives in accordance with them. Such accord furnishes life and good. The person who will not learn the orders and who tries to defy them is a fool and will find evil and death.
One of the orders that God has set into the creation is the order of time. "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Our text therefore gives what is intended to be a definitive list of those "matters," of all human activity. And it is a very realistic list. It includes the good and the bad in a recounting of all of the polarities of human activity and life. There are moments of joy and moments of sorrow, moments of creativity and moments of destruction. (The meaning of the activity in verse 5ab remains obscure.) But every human activity has its appropriate time, and the wise person is the one who learns when it is appropriate to do what. Everyone knows, for example, that there are times when one should speak, and times when one should keep silent.
The story is told of Reinhold Niebuhr who paid a call on Helen Sherrill shortly after the death of her husband, a professor at Union Seminary in New York. Others expected that perhaps Niebuhr, the great theologian, would have profound words of comfort for Helen. But he said only two words "Well, Helen," and he sat with her in silence for twenty minutes. Her grief over her husband's death was too deep for words, and Niebuhr knew it. There are appropriate times for everything, and wisdom learns those times.
The difficulty with Ecclesiastes, however, is that finally it views human life as without a goal or purpose. Everything goes around in a circle for the author. "That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been" (3:15). So "there is nothing new under the sun" (1:9). Human life is but an endless cycle of birth, life's activity, and then death. And that cycle is repeated over and over again, just as everything in the natural world goes constantly in a cycle (cf. 1:5-7).
We all know that endless repetition, don't we? We raise our children, and they grow up and raise theirs, and those children grow up and raise theirs, and those children grow up and raise theirs, and on and on go the generations (1:4). And after awhile, we have to ask, "What is the purpose of it all? Or does it have no purpose? Is there no goal to human life, no final fulfillment toward which we are striving, no reason for the endless repetition of birth, life, and death?"
Certainly we may do everything at its appropriate time, even following the dictates of etiquette and Miss Manners and Martha Stewart. We will not giggle at a funeral, though perhaps we will cry at a wedding. But we know when to rejoice and when to be somber. We know there are appropriate times for everything. We look down on those, for example, who stand endlessly kissing one another in public. But beyond our correctness, our middle-class politeness, our adherence to the manners of society, is there an ultimate purpose to human life, or finally does it just go around in a circle, leading nowhere at all?
The author of Ecclesiastes, who is sometimes called The Preacher, tells us in our text that God has given each one of us some hint of an eternal purpose. But the difficulty is that we cannot find out what it is (3:11). It is known only to God, and he has set the endless cycle of birth, life, and death into nature and human life, which cannot be added to or taken from (3:14).
To be sure, Ecclesiastes believes that God has given us some good gifts. He has given us the pleasure of eating and drinking and working (3:13), and we should be grateful for those gifts. In another passage, he counsels us to "enjoy life with the wife whom you love" (9:9), and he knows that there is great satisfaction to be had from our home life and from our labor. He even advises us to be reverent and mindful of our Creator (12:1), to be generous (11:1-2) and obediently pious (5:1-6), and to foster the ties of friendship and community (4:9-12). That's all good advice, and it's fine that it is in the Bible.
But that's not enough, and we know it's not enough. We want to know that there is some reason for our being on this earth, some destiny for which we were created as we struggle through all the ups and downs of daily existence. We want to know that our lives participate in some purpose that has eternal worth, and that we're not just glitches in the unending circle of time. We need some assurance that there are a necessity and a goal for it all, before "the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken ... and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it" (12:6, 7). However for that knowledge, Ecclesiastes is not sufficient.
The joyful news is that, contrary to The Preacher's words, God has not hidden his eternal purpose for our lives. Rather, he has revealed it to us in Jesus Christ. He has told us through his Son that time is not going around in a meaningless circle, but that time is linear. It had its beginning in God, and it stretches out toward the future called the Kingdom of God, when the Lord has banished evil and death forever, when he has made earth fair again and his loving rule encompasses all. Moreover, he has made known to us that the reason for our living in that ongoing stream of God's history is, in everything we do and say, to glorify our Creator and to work in accordance with his will toward his restoration of good and peace, love and joy for every human being on this earth. Then at the end, God has promised us that by faith in his Son Jesus Christ, we will not simply return to dust, as Ecclesiastes says, but rather we will enter into the glad eternity of his everlasting kingdom.
The contribution of Ecclesiastes, therefore, is that it awakens that yearning in our souls -- that yearning to have reason and purpose for our living. Ecclesiastes details all the activities of our lives -- all those "matters" for which there is "a time" -- and we recognize ourselves in its words. But then we agree, as the author says, that it's all vanity, nothing but vanity (1:2; 12:8) unless God in Christ reveals its purpose. Ecclesiastes is preparation for the Gospel, and for that we can be grateful, even as we rejoice over the good news that follows.
