Sunday, August 30, 2015

To Everything There is a Season

Sermon delivered on my last Sunday at St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Franklin, TN -- Sunday, August 30, 2015 (14th Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 17).

(Song of Solomon 2:8-13, James 1:17-27)



Our first reading today comes from the Song of Solomon, that great love poem of the Hebrew scriptures, and is perhaps best known for its use at weddings. But at this particular time in my life and in the life of the community at St. Paul’s, I am struck by another aspect of this poem – its emphasis on change and seasons.

“Now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come” (Song of Solomon 2:11-12).

Although the poem describes physical aspects of the earth’s changing with the seasons – from winter to spring, from rain to flowers – perhaps there is a deeper metaphorical message. The lovers can celebrate their love with joy and go away together because “the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.” Perhaps the “winter” was a difficult time in their relationship; perhaps the “rain” was external stressors beating in from every side.

In any case, this passage points us to change – change in seasons, change in dynamics of relationships, and a recognition of the impermanence of everything in life, even of our lives themselves. It reminds me of another passage from the wisdom literature in the Hebrew Bible that gives voice to this theme more fully. Made famous by Pete Seeger setting it to music in the song “Turn! Turn! Turn!” in the 1960s, the words are from the book of Ecclesiastes, chapter 3:

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

This passage resonated with me as I thought about taking my leave from you after three years serving together in ministry, and as this congregation goes through significant changes in leadership. “To everything there is a season.” A time to arrive, a time to depart. A time to welcome new people, and a time to say goodbye. A time to remember and honor the past, and a time to move forward and look to the future. Having just packed up my office, I know quite a bit about “a time to keep, and a time to throw away,” and perhaps rather than stones, “a time to throw away books, and a time to gather books together.”

This passage reminds us that no state of being lasts forever, whether it be positive or negative. Although we might bristle at the suggestion that there is “a time to hate” and a “time to kill,” I read this passage as describing the reality of human existence in this world, not necessarily the ideal or how it will be in the next life. In this life, nothing lasts forever. In this life, we experience seasons of good things and seasons of bad things. There are times of weeping and times of laughing. When we’re weeping, thinking that there will be a time to laugh in the future may bring us hope, and help get us through the tough times. When we’re laughing, we always realize that at any moment, something could happen that will send us back into crying again. Nothing lasts forever. Everything is temporary, no matter how permanent it may seem to us in the moment. Even our buildings and monuments that outlast generations of people are subject to the destructive forces of nature. As a line in our closing hymn today says, “Though with care and toil we build them, tower and temple fall to dust.”

But our epistle reading from James reminds us of what is truly eternal. “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17). With God there is “no variation or shadow due to change.” It is only in God that we find permanence, constancy, a true illustration of the word “forever.” Although “tower and temple fall to dust,” in the hymn text we go on to proclaim, “But God’s power, hour by hour, is my temple and my tower.” In the midst of this ever-changing tide of seasons that flows through our lives, bringing good and bad, life and death, we must always remember to turn our attention to the one “fixed point” in the midst of all the changes: God’s love, God’s mercy, God’s power, God’s eternal presence, the fount of all being, sustaining and guiding us as our life unfolds.

One of my favorite prayers in the prayer book is in the service of Compline, that service in the Daily Office intended for use right before bedtime. It says:

“Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness; through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (BCP 133).

“We who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life” – that is such a vivid turn of phrase, isn’t it? Who among us can’t relate to the feeling of being “wearied by the changes and chances of this life” – this life which can change in an instant, in which things we spend hours and years building can be destroyed overnight, this life in which friends and relatives can betray our trust, drift away from us, or get sick and die, this life which offers us no guarantees except for the fact of change itself.

But even in the midst of all that, God remains constant. As the collect says, we can rest in God’s “eternal changelessness,” that solid foundation at the center of our faith. And as Christians, we are an Easter people, a Resurrection people. Change and transformation are at the heart of what we understand God to be about in the world, bringing new life from death. The year I graduated high school, the song “Closing Time” by SemiSonic was at the top of the radio playlists, and I have always remembered a line from that song during times of transition in my life: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” SemiSonic didn’t come up with that line; it is actually an ancient saying often attributed to the 1st century Roman philosopher Seneca. But it could very well be the slogan for the Christian faith: “every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” Or as Jesus puts it in the Gospel of John, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24)

On Ash Wednesday and at every funeral liturgy we are reminded that “we are dust, and to dust we shall return.” As we commend a loved one to the Lord, we say to God: “You only are immortal, the creator and maker of mankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth shall we return” (BCP 499). Our opening hymn today reminded us, in words that echo lines from the psalms and the prophet Isaiah, that “we blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree; then wither and perish, but nought changeth thee.”

Nought changeth thee. The author of the letter to the Hebrews put it this way: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). The scriptures say in various places that Christ is our foundation, our cornerstone, our rock. God is the one thing we can count on not to change, no matter what. But for everything else, there is a season…

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