Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

there are three kinds of people in the world:

those who can do math,

and those who can’t … ?

Be that as it may,

our text for today reminds me that

there are at least two kinds of people in the world:

those who like surprises,

and those who hate them.

There doesn’t appear to be very much middle ground on this one …

few people are indifferent to surprises;

few of us can just "take them or leave them."

We either think they are a delightful extra

that spices up our everyday lives …

or we find them to be a pain in the patoot

that interrupts more important things we already had planned.

Ah, and that’s part of the difference, isn’t it,

between the two types of people?

In general, I think,

those of us who like to plan carefully,

and have our daily and weekly "to do" lists carefully mapped out,

and calendars that you can barely read

because of all that’s scribbled on them …

we are the ones who hate surprises.

We really haven’t time for anything

that wasn’t already on the schedule.

So if a surprise comes along,

even if it’s a good one,

it throws off our nicely-constructed plans for the rest of the day,

if not even longer than that.

Those of us who are more spontaneous in nature,

and tend to think that "plan" is a four-letter-word …

we are the ones who enjoy surprises.

In fact, a certain percentage of life

regularly comes to us as a surprise,

because we haven’t scheduled much of anything.

Making a plan is boring.

Just seeing what life dishes out to us is interesting.

Sure, occasionally there are unpleasant surprises …

but hey, that’s just all part of the way the world is.

But there’s another piece to the puzzle as well.

Those of us who dislike surprises are, I suspect,

those who tend a little toward the pessimistic side.

Who are, perhaps, a little mistrustful

of what others have planned for us.

After all, when mother nature hits us with a surprise,

it’s rarely pleasant:

tsunamis, hurricanes, hailstorms,

pick your favorite disaster.

So why should we expect that it will be something pleasant

when humans plan a surprise for us?

It might be fun, sure,

but they might just as easily try to embarrass us.

Like having all the wait staff sing "Happy Birthday" to us,

usually in no particular key.

Or sending a singing telegram to our workplace,

with a performer who, shall we say, disrobes as they sing?

Nah, people can’t be trusted.

Better to plan things yourself so that you don’t get surprised.

Whereas those of us who like surprises, I think,

are those more likely to see the glass as half full.

So what if our friends embarrass us;

isn’t it nice to have friends

who make such elaborate plans to surprise us?

So what if the plan for the day had to be tossed out the window …

who knows what I might have missed

if I had insisted on sticking to the schedule?

Surprises may sometimes be unpleasant or even disastrous,

but there’s always some good that can be brought out of them.

Well, Luke, in our text for this morning,

seems to fall more into the first camp.

That is, he tells us that there is a surprise coming,

and we won’t be able to avoid it,

but we’d better be prepared and alert at all times,

because it isn’t going to be pretty.

On the one hand,

since he’s told us that it’s coming,

one can hardly call it a surprise any longer.

But, he goes on to suggest that despite "signs in the sun, moon, and stars"

that day may catch us unexpectedly, like a trap.

So even though we may know it’s coming,

we have no idea when,

or exactly how.

Well, that’s not much help then, is it?

My dad told me once that the meanest April Fools trick he ever played

was to leave someone a note that said "Ha! Gotcha!"

but then not actually do anything.

This poor friend went around for days

wondering when some unpleasant surprise was going to befall him.

And of course, the longer he had to wait,

the worse the suspense became.

Every now and then,

it seems like Jesus and/or the gospel writers

are playing just such a game with us:

"The day of the Lord is coming" …

but you don’t know when,

so stay alert at all times,

and don’t ever get caught off guard.

Or else.

The earliest Christians, as you may know,

took that very seriously.

They were certain that Christ was going to come again, a second time,

within their lifetimes …

and so, for many years if not even decades,

they were in a state of high alert.

It’s in this context that you get things like

the suggestion that believers ought not to marry,

but to focus their attention instead

on spreading the word.

After all, what use is it to marry and bring children into the world,

if the world as we know it is in its final days?

Anyway, soon enough it became apparent

that the end, although promised, was not in sight,

and things began to change.

And here we are, two thousand years later,

having benefited from the church they started,

but still waiting for the promised surprise.

Some of us may look forward to such a surprise;

others of us may resent having to wait around

and make our plans as if it might happen,

only we don’t really know …

but most of us probably don’t think much about it at all.

How do we deal with words spoken all those centuries ago –

whether we choose to see them as a promise or a threat! –

how do they fit into 21^st-century life?

We are reminded every year, as Advent begins,

that God has promised not to leave us alone,

but to send Christ once again to us.

But I admit, I spend little to no time on any average day

wondering about when that will happen,

and how I would respond.

So I suspect that you don’t, either.

I imagine that for most if not all of us,

we will go to be with God

before God returns to be on earth with us.

In one sense, preparing for our own inevitable end

isn’t all that different from preparing for the coming of the kingdom.

There are certain things we want to be sure to complete,

certain things we wouldn’t want to be caught doing,

certain things we will be reluctant to leave behind.

Yet we know very well that, for all our planning,

our last day on earth may come as a surprise.

We walk a careful line, and keep a tricky balance,

between wanting to be ready, on the one hand,

but also, on the other, needing to live fully the life we’ve been given.

Our future with God is a mystery.

Whether God comes to us once again in Christ,

or we come to God,

that moment will be full of surprises.

And some of us love surprises,

and some of us hate them.

For those of us who love new things,

and love to be surprised by them …

the hard part for us will be the waiting,

and the being prepared even when nothing seems to be happening.

We like to be "caught unexpectedly";

Luke says we need to be on our guard against being caught unexpectedly.

For us, the "preparing" part of "preparing for a mystery"

is the difficult part.

Planning already bores us a little;

how can we be expected to plan for something

when we don’t know what it’s going to look like

or when it’s going to come?

And yet, we must.

For those of us who hate surprises,

the hard part for us is the mystery.

We can plan for anything, so long as we know when to work it in.

But when the surprise interrupts our careful plan,

forget it.

I strongly suspect that if Christ showed up again tomorrow,

some of the first words out of my mouth would be,

"You can’t be back yet;

I haven’t finished my dissertation!"

We, the surprise-haters, have to be reminded that,

whatever this mystery is,

it has been planned for us by One who loves us.

Not one who wishes to embarrass us,

or make us look foolish …

as human surprises sometimes enjoy doing …

but one who has been holding in store

blessings we can’t even imagine.

That’s not to say that it will be only happiness and light …

but that the ultimate goal is that we will be with God.

That is,

that is our wish and it is God’s wish.

Signs in the sun, moon, and stars …

distress on the earth …

being caught as in a trap …

maybe.

But what’s beyond that

is what matters:

life with God, undisturbed by all the things

that are so good at disturbing us here and now.

If you love surprises,

that’s good news.

Just be sure to get yourself ready.

If you hate surprises, too bad.

Just remember that this surprise

comes at the hands of one who offers us love and redemption.

Christ is coming!

Get ready …

and prepare to enjoy the mystery.

Amen.

© 2006 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org)