May 28, 2006
A Time to Move On
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
Romans 5:1-5
Matthew 6:25-34
From the Book of Ecclesiastes we hear again these words that we know are true: "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 ..." and all the rest. It's also true, though we sometimes deny it, that there is a time to stay, and a time to move on.
Times to "move on" occur often in our lives: we move on from infancy to early childhood, from nursery school to kindergarten, from high school to college. None of us stays in one place all our lives - either physically or psychologically. What was so unusual about one of the saints at my previous church, Helen Humphrey, was that she was born in and lived in all her 81 years the same house, just down the street from the church. But even she "moved on" in other ways: she got married, raised a family, had a career, etc.
Many of us have watched our children grow up and leave home - that's "moving on" to maturity and independence. Sometimes, often sadly, husbands and wives decide that they can no longer stay together, and they move on into different roles and life situations. Many here have also experienced job transfers, when the company says, "You can no longer stay here; it's time to move on." And of course, we experience the ultimate "moving on" at the end of our lives, and the final "moving on" of loved ones.
The late William Sloane Coffin, reflected about death, but I think his words also apply to those death-like times when relationships end, and folks have to move on. He put it this way: "Just think: if people didn't move on, who could move in? There would be no new poets, artists, or composers. It would all be Bach, Telemann, and Scarlatti - no Beethoven, Brahms or Beatles. Church meetings would never adjourn [Oh, Lord!], graduate students never graduate. Human beings would be as bored as the old Greek gods, and probably up to their same silly tricks. ... Just as without leave-taking, there can be no arrival; without growing old, no growing up; without grounds for despair, no reason for hope," (i) so without death-like experiences, human life does not fully bloom forth.
Most "moving on" experiences have in them a mixture of gladness and sadness. For example, we may wish our children the best as they leave the nest and graduate into life, but we also feel sad at their leaving and all they have meant to the family, for somehow, the family will never be quite the same again. Or again, if we believe in eternal life, we may be glad that our loved one who's died is no longer suffering and is now at rest, but we are sad for ourselves and the loss we feel at their passing. "Moving on" elicits in us feelings both of gladness and sadness. That's why, as I mentioned last week, most of us resist change. We don't like disruptions in our lives. Change is rarely easy and is often painful. Happy feelings for ourselves or for another are one thing, but most of us don't care much for those other feelings. Yet, as Ecclesiastes says, there is a time for everything - including a time for weeping and mourning.
Goodbyes are sad times, and leaving Pilgrim Church is sad for me. Goodbyes involve leaving behind the dreams that we've worked to make real, friends that we've shared life with and grown to love. Everywhere in life, we move on and leave our efforts behind us in the dust, knowing deep inside that we will never find them exactly the same again. The danger is spending too much time looking back and missing what's up ahead. Yet, there's little use in trying to avoid the discomfort and anxiety that go with us when we move on. For that is life and it is for sure, a certainty. Life teaches us to accept goodbyes as part of saying hello to newer things ahead. It teaches us also that what was loved and what was learned in the past can never be lost. (ii)
My decision to "move on" to retirement from Pilgrim Church and all you wonderful people was not made lightly, and in some ways it was a difficult decision. What a wonderful congregation you have been to serve! But God has a way of nudging us sometimes, as God did prior to my coming here almost 17 years ago. God started nudging me again a couple of years ago, enticing me with thoughts of what it might be like to be in the next phase of life, to have more time to be with Claudia, and with my family, to travel, to read all those books I always wanted to get to, but never seemed to find the time, to bike more, to enjoy life more. God's nudging can often be pretty persuasive.
While I am excited about the new possibilities awaiting me, I am also feeling the sense of loss that I know many of you are feeling. One does not have the kind of relationship that we have had for as long as it's been, and not feel something deep in here at the prospect of separation. So I need to say to you again, as I did last week, if this is where you're at, it's okay to grieve, it's to feel anger, to feel abandoned, to feel sad, and it's okay to cry. I've already shed a whole bunch of tears, and I expect there'll be a bunch more, especially next weekend.
Having said all that, at some point, now or sometime soon, we need to realize and believe three things. First, that "love bears all things" and "endures all things." What the great chapter on love from First Corinthians says to me for this occasion is that the love we have for one another and the love you have for each other is a precious treasure that must be safeguarded and nurtured. Let's face it, without love, what have we got? Loving relationships enable us to bear what would be otherwise unbearable, to endure whatever comes along in life. And also, please remember, God's love is always with us, God's presence and guidance are always at hand.
Along the same lines, second, we need to realize that God will take care of us, and that we need not worry about the future. Jesus reminds us to look at the birds of the air and the lilies of the field - they give us clues as to God's divine providence. We are God's precious children and God will not abandon us, nor this church. By God's grace and by all of you continuing to love and care for each other and for the world out there - please don't forget the world out there, it needs our care and compassion - by being obedient to what God calls you to do - this church will continue to be, as the scriptures say, "the apple of God's eye." So, do not worry about tomorrow.
And third, reflecting on our reading from Romans, I hope you will come to realize that suffering - and perhaps for today we can translate this as "any kind of painful change" - that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope - which will not disappoint us because of God's love that continually pours into our hearts. What Paul is saying here, I think, is that God works for good in all situations, and that if we look hard, we can find something redemptive even in those things that cause us pain and sadness.
If we can truly come to believe that "love bears all things," that God will indeed take care of us, so we need not be unduly anxious, and that God works for good in everything, then what can we do - or more specifically, what can you do to help smooth the rough places in the time ahead? Let me quickly suggest four things. First, pray for one another, pray for our church and its future, and please keep Claudia and me in your prayers also. Second, don't suppress your feelings. Don't hide them. Get them out. Deal openly with your grief, if that's what you feel. But then, when you are able, try to move on beyond those feelings. Third, be supportive of one another. I have always felt that this church was as strong as it is because of the caring, incredibly talented people here. It's up to all of you, with God's help, not only to carry on the work of the church in the future, but to minister to one another in the present. Be supportive of and care for one another. And fourth, please continue to support our beloved church. The church needs your loyalty, your presence on Sundays, your financial support, your willingness to work. There will be lots of work to do in the time ahead; please volunteer to help carry the load. There'll be a need for many laborers in the vineyard, so, as our last hymn says, "come, labor on." Our church has a mission to accomplish - not only here, but beyond these walls. It also has a need to "move on." Your continued help is vital.
A father and daughter were observed saying goodbye to each other at an airport departure gate. They hugged and he said, "I love you. I wish you enough." She in turn said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, also, Daddy." They kissed and she left to board her plane. The father walked over toward the window and quietly cried. The observer seated nearby tried not to intrude on his privacy, but the old gentleman wanted to talk. He told the observer that this was a forever goodbye, since he was very ill, his daughter lived far away, and they both knew that the next time she would be back would be for his funeral. "When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?," inquired the observer. The father began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from generation to generation in our family." He paused for a moment, and looking up as if to try to remember it in detail, he smiled even more. "When we said, 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them." Then he continued as if he were reciting from memory: "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough 'Hellos' to get you through the final 'Good-byes.' I wish you enough ... " (iii)
"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." We are assured of God's loving presence in all our times, even in the times of moving on to new things. As it says in the hymn we will sing in a moment, "From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery, unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see." (iv) "And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love." Ain't that the truth! My dear church family, I love you ... and I wish you enough. Amen.
Please remain seated as we sing together our Prayer Hymn in the bulletin, "In the Bulb There Is a Flower."
The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall
i William Sloane Coffin, quoted in Christianity Today, Vol. 31, # 1, Autoillustrator #5575.
ii Michael Loss, Autoillustrator #3924.
iii C. Richard Stone, Autoillustrator #32274.
iv Natalie Sleeth, "In the Bulb There Is a Flower," Chalice Hymnal, #638.