Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Be Prepared?"

Text: Luke 12:32-40

the best April Fool’s prank ever …

and I don’t know whether he actually ever did this,

or only dreamed it up …

The best prank, he says,

is simply to send your victim a note that says "Gotcha!"

or "April Fool’s!" or whatever …

but don’t actually do anything.

They will be walking on eggshells for days,

wondering when your prank is going to hit them.

And what it will be.

And who else may be there to witness it.

And so on.

I think there was a M*A*S*H episode like that, once …

Anyhow, passages like this one from Luke

sort of strike me in the same way.

On the one hand, it begins with Jesus saying,

"Do not be afraid, little flock …"

but he doesn’t leave it at that.

He goes on with images of being dressed for action,

keeping your lamps "trimmed and burning,"

knowing what hour a thief is coming to break in.

To me, those seem calculated to generate

at least anxiety, if not fear.

For what are we being asked to prepare?

Is it something wonderful, or something scary?

Is this a big "Gotcha!" note from God,

to leave us on edge for the next twenty centuries?

Remember also that this teaching follows on the heels of

the parable about the rich man and his grain and his barns,

which we heard last week,

and the section of Luke’s gospel that is the parallel

for the "consider the lilies" passage in Matthew …

where Jesus assures his listeners that they need not worry about anything,

because God knows what they need, and will provide.

which we didn’t hear last week!

So it’s almost as if he’s trying to draw a distinction for them

about how to be prepared, and how not to be prepared.

Well, we heard last week about how not to be prepared:

don’t hoard stuff for yourself;

don’t hide away what God has given you

as though you had somehow created it all yourself;

don’t build more barns when you already have adequate barns;

etc., etc.

If he were preaching to us 21^st-century types, he might focus on different specifics:

stop worrying about how much is in your retirement account;

quit obsessing about your body shape and size

as if it were going to have to last you for all eternity;

drop it already about the speed of your internet connection,

and think instead about how quickly it could all come to an end.

Or, in different words, suitable to both eras:

don’t imagine that you have always to look out for yourself,

because God can’t be trusted to do it;

do not think that by striving and worrying

you can add a single hour to the span of your life;

don’t act as though the life you know now

is all the life there is.

To a large extent, we are taught to think of "being prepared"

in terms of this-worldly self-sufficiency.

And we also tend to think of it in terms of stuff,

or money with which to buy stuff.

Jesus seems to want us to think of it

in a different way altogether.

He tries to make us realize the problem with "stuff."

Where your treasure is, he warns us,

that’s where your heart will really be.

We like to think of it the other way round …

that whatever our heart values,

that’s where we will spend or invest our treasure.

And there’s certainly some truth to be found

in looking at it that way, as well.

But Jesus has turned it around uncomfortably:

Wherever your treasure is –

in barns filled with grain,

in retirement accounts that make you feel secure,

in a home in the "right" neighborhood,

the list could go on and on –

that is where your heart really is.

Give me ten minutes with your checkbook and your credit card statements,

and I can tell you what’s most important to you.

As you could do for me, as well.

Neither of us might like the answer we got,

but it might be an important learning experience,

and an opportunity for examining our lives

and our state of true preparedness.

If the owner of the house had known

at what hour the thief was coming …

he would not have let his house be broken into.

If the kids had known

exactly at what hour their parents were returning home …

they would have sent their friends home and cleaned up in time!

If we were to know the day, and time, and circumstances,

of our own death …

we could predict exactly how much we need up to that point,

and spend or give away the rest.

We don’t know.

We can’t know.

Instead, we have to be ready at all times.

Equally ready for the master to return to the banquet,

and for him not yet to return.

We hate not knowing, don’t we?

We believe that we could be ready for almost anything,

that we could face almost anything,

if we just know.

But this is knowledge that’s not available to us.

So how do we live with not-knowing?

It seems to me that we have to develop an ethical sense

that walks a pretty thin line.

On the one hand, we have a cultural standard of constant accumulation;

"who says you can’t have it all?";

be sure you save up enough that you won’t "be a burden" on others.

On the other hand, we have Jesus at his most exaggerated,

telling listeners to sell everything they have and give alms,

as if the kingdom of God were going to be ushered in tomorrow morning.

Assuming either of those extremes

is probably a bad idea.

We need to figure out how we can make life choices

that we feel we can live with either way.

Let’s say I’m about to make the decision to do "x."

I then have to ask myself,

"If Christ were to return tomorrow, or next week,

would I feel okay about having done ‘x’ today?"

And,

"If Christ doesn’t return in my lifetime,

will I feel okay that I did ‘x’ when I had a choice?"

I suspect that most of the time, that’s all we will need to ask,

because most of the time,

the answer will be the same either way.

Where we tend to get into trouble

is those times that we fail to ask the faith question at all …

the times when we just move ahead unthinkingly

and do what our culture says is important,

or what our fears tell us is the only safe thing to do,

or what we’ve just gotten into a long-term habit of doing.

Most of the time,

if we remember to bring God into the equation at all,

we’re going to make the right decision.

And by the way,

the right question to ask is really not, "What would Jesus do?"

but rather, "What does Jesus want me to do?"

We’re not Jesus,

and there may at times be very good reasons

for doing something a little different than what he would do

given the same circumstances.

Indeed, this may be the most important element of "being prepared":

remembering to bring God into a decision or a situation at the beginning,

rather than waiting till things go wrong

and hoping God will help us fix it!

Being prepared has to do with

willingly holding up our lives to God’s gaze,

and seeking God’s input and guidance

whenever we have a choice to make.

Of course, God can always see what’s going on with us,

but it makes a difference whether we see that gaze

as something to fear and to resist,

or something to guide us.

What is there in each of our lives

that we would not want God to find us doing,

if Christ were to return at that instant?

Are we ready to do something about those things?

What is there in our lives

that we hope Christ would find us doing

if he suddenly showed up and started asking questions?

Is there any way we can do more of those things?

What about the everyday things of life

that we need to do, and wouldn’t mind Christ finding us at?

- things like doing our chores, paying bills, taking a walk.

What are some ways that we can invite God into those everyday things

more and more?

For example …

I’m usually on autopilot when I pay bills …

write the check, enter it onto the budget worksheet,

seal the envelope, stamp, return address,

grumble about how high the electric bill is,

move on to the next one.

If I’m more conscious of God’s world and my place in it

when I’m paying those bills,

suddenly I become quite grateful for electricity and air conditioning,

and enough money to pay for vet bills for five dogs,

and to eat out when I’m too tired or lazy to cook,

and the whole thing becomes quite a different experience.

If we can envision our household and yard chores

as being a way in which we help bring order out of chaos,

the same way God did when creating the world,

suddenly that work takes on a kind of sacred character.

It may never become our favorite way to spend an afternoon,

but it becomes a part of God’s work instead of sheer drudgery.

If we can imagine God beside us in our workplaces and at school …

God, with us at our meals, with family or friends, or alone …

God in the passenger seat when we drive –

I’d really have to clean up my act with that one! …

How much better would we "be prepared" for whatever comes along

if we simply kept God beside us at all times?

Jesus doesn’t guarantee us a smooth road if we stay prepared …

he doesn’t guarantee us wealth, or a life of ease …

he doesn’t promise that God will answer every prayer as we want it answered.

He does promise that we are blessed,

if the master finds us alert when he returns from the feast.

He promises that the master will have us sit down to eat,

and will serve us himself.

Isn’t that an amazing image?

When we serve God as faithfully and alertly as we are able,

God will return to serve us?

Be prepared …

We don’t know what’s ahead,

but we do know that God is there.

Amen.

© 2004 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org)