Author: lakewooducc

Date: February 27, 2011
Scripture Lesson: Matthew 6:24-34
Sermon: A Dog’s Life
Pastor: Rev. Kim P. Wells

Two mountains were separated by a valley. On the top of each mountain was a castle. Down in the valley a dog lay under a tree. Suddenly a trumpet blew from one of the castles signaling that supper was about to be served. The dog immediately ran up the mountain, hoping to find some tasty morsels to eat. When the dog had gone halfway up the mountain, however, he heard a trumpet blow from the other castle. The dog stopped, and hearing no trumpet from the mountain he was climbing, ran down the mountain and up toward the other castle. Halfway up that mountain he heard another series of blasts from the horn on the first mountain. Once again the dog changed his course and headed for his original destination. He kept changing mountains until both horns were silent and the meals were over. Alas, the dog received no tasty scraps from either castle. [“The Dog in the Mountains: An African Fable,” Stories for the Gathering: A Treasury for Christian Storytellers, William R. White, p. 144]

We know what it feels like to be chasing around after what we are told is the good life. We are told we have to pursue wealth, financial stability, health, youth, success, education, self-sufficiency, meaningful relationships, all to be happy. So, we go after it all. And we know what it feels like to be divided by all these competing claims and responsibilities to job, community, family, extended family, school, friends, neighbors. We know what it is to worry about paying for college, having money for retirement, covering health care bills, even if we have health insurance. We know what it is like to feel overwhelmed by our many commitments and cares. Our property, homes, cars, and things all take time and space and money to maintain. We have our finances and taxes and other obligations to maintain. We have our social networks to keep up. Gotta check Facebook, myspace, email, twitter, and texts. It’s up this mountain, only to be distracted by another mountain, each luring us with promises of satisfaction and happiness, if we only get to the top.

It can feel like endless chasing, trying to keep up, and never being on top of anything. Trying to get by and manage day to day living. Snowed under by financial obligations, committees, appointments, demands and expectations. So much for labor saving devices and technology giving us endless leisure!

Back in the mid 20th century, the Hayden Planetarium in New York offered to take reservations for trips to space. This was well before the days of space travel. It was intended as a fun, educational publicity effort. People filled out forms signing up for the trip they wanted to take. Evidently, “The applications came in by the thousands. For some, of course, it was all in fun. But then someone started to wonder why so many people responded to the offer. The conclusion was that worried and weary people wanted a chance, if only imaginary, to escape from the problems and hassles of this life. One applicant wrote: ‘It would be heaven to get away from this busy earth. I honestly wish God would let me go somewhere where it’s nice and peaceful, good, safe, and secure.’” [The Sermon on the Mount, Roger Shinn, p.62] And that was more than 60 years ago, back in what some remember as the olden days, when life was far simpler than it is today!

On the opening page of the book Clutter Busting: Letting Go of What’s Holding You Back, there is this quote from Ramesh Balsekar, a contemporary sage and spiritual teacher from India: “With all the things you have in your life, are you any more happy than your dog?” [Clutter Busting: Letting Go of What’s Holding You Back, Brooks Palmer] Of course, Balsekar is echoing the teachings of spiritual masters throughout the ages, including Jesus, as we heard today. Jesus, recognizing the fragmented commitments and desires of his disciples, teaches material and spiritual simplicity. The disciples have left their homes and families, but are still hesitant and half hearted. “Oh you of little faith,” Jesus says. This expression is used repeatedly in the gospel of Matthew to convey the doubts and misgivings of the disciples. Yes, they are following Jesus, but they are holding back. So we hear the famous teaching, “You cannot serve two masters.” Of course. The master/slave relationship is all consuming. The slave is owned. Fully under the control of the master. So how can a person be controlled by more than one all encompassing commitment? Anything done for one master means rejection and neglect of the other master. With two masters, you are always favoring one and rejecting the other. Always falling short. We know what that is like. Trying to be a good person. Trying to do well at our job. Trying to be financially stable, or even just get by. Trying to be a good friend, spouse, parent, child, citizen, worker, volunteer, etc., etc., etc. We can feel enslaved to many masters. Jesus responds to our fragmented existence, full of worries and distresses about money, food, clothing and everyday life. Have one controlling commitment. One gravitational center. One central purpose. The realm of God. Trust God completely. God who sees that all of nature is taken care of in beauty and splendor, is worthy to be trusted. Focus on God and God’s hopes and dreams, and everything else will be taken care of. Yes, the sparrow still dies, there is still pain and death. Just a few verses earlier, the disciples are told that they will be persecuted and suffer. There is no promise of a Disneyesque “happily ever after” life. But there is the promise of a worry-free life of fulfillment to be found in God-centered living. Jesus is painting us a picture of a simple life. Focused. Without fretting about daily needs. Without needless fragmentation. Without the hassles that divide and distract. It is a life based on trust, dependent upon the loving source, secure in divine providence: Free from self reliance, free from independence, free from fragmentation, free from divided loyalties and commitments.

The Psalms talk about this kind of centered commitment to God as purity of heart. Give me a pure heart. Give me a whole heart. May my whole life be devoted to God.

This simple, focused approach to life runs counter to the society we live in. We are assaulted with messages that tell us to save for college, save for retirement, invest wisely, get a higher paying job, be a good parent, coach the little league team, keep up on all health issues so that we can be informed consumers of health care, be a good friend and neighbor, have the right things, eat the right foods, wear the right thing, have the right body, stay young looking. All this we hear day in and day out. Demands and expectations that no one could ever fulfill. And when we don’t keep up with what society seems to expect we feel deficient.

Last weekend, the St. Petersburg Times had an article about the first wave of baby boomers turning 65. There were interviews with individuals about their circumstances. We are told the story of Thomas Fales. That’s F-A-L-E-S, though he seems to think it should be F-A-I-L-S. We’re told: “Because he never expected to live to 65, he didn’t plan for it. He should have died a dozen times. . . He didn’t save, and he didn’t go to doctors. The Great Recession passed him by because he had no 401(k) to lose. Fales is regretful, almost apologetic, about living all those yesterdays only for the todays. But the sensible, precautionary things other people do were somehow beyond him. . . ‘I don’t worry about tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It’s not a good way to be, but I’ve been that way all my life.’” [“Turning 65 this year,” John Barry, St. Petersburg Times, 2/20/2011] Ironic, isn’t it. He is living the very simplicity that Jesus advocates as an antidote to endless chasing after ever elusive security and prosperity, and he regrets it because it is so against the grain of society. Fales has failed to fulfill the expectations of the culture around him and he feels like a failure.

It isn’t easy to overcome our cultural programming to embrace the spiritual wisdom of our teacher, Jesus. The simplicity and serenity he teaches is something that has to be learned. It has to be mastered. Think of how we take time to educate ourselves about other things. Say, to prepare for a job or a career. Think of the time and energy we invest in our material lives – homes, clothes, cars, property, etc. Last night Jeff and I happened to be downtown and honestly the way some of the people looked you know it took them a lot longer to get dressed than it would take to go to church on Sunday. Think of the commitment we make to mastering other skills such as tennis, or karate, or soccer, or woodworking, or needle crafts, or music or cooking or golf or surfing. We expect the things we need to do or the things we do for enjoyment to take time and energy. But somehow, we seem to expect that our spiritual life will just take care of itself. Perhaps with an assist from a church service on Sundays and a prayer before meals and bed. In the early church, people who were attracted to the Christian life were basically apprentices for a full year before they were baptized. They ate, worked, worshiped, prayed, studied scripture, and performed acts of charity and service in the company of other Christians in a devoted, consistent, and dedicated manner for a year before they could join up. There was the awareness that the Christian life was a complete change of life, a total transformation, from the ways of the world, and it would take time and effort and coaching for someone to really begin to grasp the God-centered life. It was expected to take time and training to live according to the values and vision of the realm of God. Practice and reflection and indoctrination would be needed to leave the ways of the world behind and embrace the new life offered by the Christian community.

When you think about it, we have spent our lives being taught to worry and to fret that there won’t be enough, that we won’t get our turn, that we have to take care of ourselves, that we won’t be accepted or successful if we don’t keep up. We are tutored in this outlook day in and day out. We have learned to be busy, fragmented, and anxious. It takes time and concerted effort and dedication to unlearn this approach. To experience the serenity, the security, the simplicity of Jesus, takes time and effort and concerted commitment. We can learn to focus our spirits, to live in God’s realm, to orbit around love’s center. It takes prayer, engagement with scripture, worship, spiritual practices and discipline, service to others, and immersion in the fellowship of the faith community. We can engage in meaningful Christian formation that leads us to this simple life of trust that Jesus describes, leaving worry and anxiety behind, learning to ignore distractions and not get waylaid or side-tracked. Focused loyalty and dedication on that which offers serenity and joy through life’s journey is possible. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you won’t be busy, but you’ll be focussed and know the reason for your busyness.

As a tutor in this kind of life, in addition to the church and scripture, I have my dog. I’ll admit my bias straight out. We have three dogs and I am very attached to them. Once accused by a family member of neglecting them, I defended myself saying, “I love those dogs more than anyone else in this household.” Our son Malcolm retorted, “I hope you don’t mean that the way it sounded!” So I am known for a bias toward my dogs. Early Christians mystics tell us that we can learn all we need to know of God from scripture and nature. So, I have my dogs, especially our one dog, Fergus, the 136 pound Newfoundland, as a spiritual teacher. Fergus follows me around the house. He knows where I am at all times. He knows when I sit down and when I stand up. He knows what room I’m in. He knows if I am awake or sleeping. I’ve been told that when I am asleep, he will come and look at me, to check on me. And then take his place on the floor near the bed. He greets me at the door when I come home. If we go for a walk, he stays right beside me. If he were here this morning, he would be standing or laying right beside me. He’s seldom even minutely distracted from his attention to me. In his loyalty and devotion, I am reminded of the constancy of God’s providential care. As we hear this morning, Are we not of more value to God than the birds of the air? Is not God’s devotion to us greater than that of my dog? Of course! I am also reminded that the loyalty, trust, and attention that my beloved Fergus gives to me is a model for the devotion and dedication to God that will set me free from the fragmentation and failure and fretting of chasing after elusive expectations that never truly satisfy. We began with the story of the dog chasing up and down the mountain and coming up empty. We end with the beautiful devotion of my beloved Newfie, Fergus. The spiritual wisdom of the ages, the core of Christian discipleship. It’s all there, in a dog’s life! Amen.

A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.