Spring rains in California have made for
some interesting film footage.
Attractive have been the flowers that
bloomed this year in Death Valley. Some have characterized this as a
"once in a lifetime" event. Or the green rolling hills that lead into
the central valley.
Of concern are the mud slides, particularly
in Southern California. These water-soaked hills are letting go, even as
we move toward summer. It’s awesome and tragic to see pictures of one of
these fine homes, high on a hill, give way as the ground is saturated
with water.
Knowing how much Californians pay for these
homes, it is particularly unsettling.
Watching these slides from back east,
people will ask, "Why do they build their houses on those hills?" And
that’s a good question, until you stand on one of those hills and look
out over the ocean. You understand. What a beautiful place to live!
But the rains do come. And the mud does
slide.
I remember when Connie and I drove over to
Pacifica. A year or so ago, Christy, Connie’s daughter, was looking at
an apartment and we drove over there to have a look.
The apartments were beautiful, high on a
cliff overlooking the ocean. A gazebo surrounded by ice plants. Sea
gulls gliding out over the open water.
A year later, we went back … after the
Pacific storms pounded the coastline. That year, they struck Pacifica.
The sandstone cliff had been eaten back 20 yards or so.
The wooden stairway down to the beach was
partly destroyed and closed off. The gazebo was gone. And the apartments
next to these were precariously on the edge.
The scripture lesson for this morning
compares the spiritual life to someone whose house, built on sandstone,
is precariously close to the edge. Eventually, the foundation will give
way and the house will fall. The parable contrasts this with the man who
built his house on solid rock. The rains came and the floods arose, and
the house stood.
Spiritual foundations, a part in our life
that we don’t generally see, are important.
Spiritually speaking, as allegory, the rock
is our spiritual discipline and moral foundation.
Integrity and devotion form the foundation
for spirituality.
God’s grace loves us anyway, but if we ever
hope to get a spiritual sense of being close to God, it takes things
like prayer and meditation, things like not lying, not stealing, and
doing no harm to others.
Spiritually speaking, the mud and the sand
represent our negativity and resentment.
These things are more subtle, and will
eventually erode our spiritual foundations.
I saw a cartoon, once. It was something
like a political cartoon, only more of a commentary on life. It pictured
a little man trying to step off of a dock into a rowboat.
The rowboat was not moored to the dock, and
began floating away. The man’s legs split and he fell, grabbing the
gunnels of the boat with his hands and setting his toes on the dock. And
there he hung, precariously stretched out, inches above the water, as
the boat continued to drift away.
The cartoonist labeled the Dock … The "is"
And he labeled the boat … The "ought."
This little man hung between the solid "way
things are," and the floating "way thing ought to be."
That is precisely what hangs people up. We
get caught between our "is" and our "ought."
We get caught between living with things
the way they are and trying to force things to be what they are not.
Negativity is a denial of what is … in
favor of our imposed "ought." Instead of accepting and flowing with
things as they are … we sit around spitting out moral commentary on how
situations and other people "should" be. Things are never exactly as we
would design them.
This doesn’t mean we can’t strive to make
our world better. It means that until we can relax and flow with the way
things are, we are not in a position to guide events for the better.
It’s hard getting out of that cycle of negativity. It’s a place of being
stuck.
This is an extremely important and powerful
Biblical principle.
Jesus strolled through the market place and
noticed a commotion up front. A circle of men were about to stone a
woman to death for committing adultery. Angry shouts. Shaking their
fists. Looking for big rocks.
Jesus slipped into the circle. He stood
next to that woman. People stood still and watched. What would happen
next? Jesus took advantage of that nervous silence by stooping down and
doodling in the dust.
Then suddenly, he picked up a rock and
shoved it under the nose of each man.
And he said, let the one free from any
wrong, cast the first stone.
And no one could. One by one, they turned
and left.
For when they looked at themselves, none of
them could judge another.
This principle is stated explicitly in
Matthew 7:1-5. Powerful! Let me read it: "Do not judge, so that you may
not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and
the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Why do you see
the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own
eye? First, take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see
clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eyes."
This pattern is found throughout the Bible.
King David had so much of the good things
in life! But he still was not satisfied. He saw Bathsheba bathing on the
balcony. He invited her up to his apartment and turned the stereo down
low. Soft music. A little wine. One thing led to another, and Bathsheba
became pregnant.
Remember the story? David brought Uriah,
her husband, home from battle, but he was too loyal to his troops to
engage in the deception. So David sent Uriah to the front of the battle
where he was killed, and then he married Bathsheba.
People began counting up on their fingers,
and there wasn’t nine months. Everyone whispered, but no one wanted to
confront the king. Except Nathan.
Nathan offered David a parable. A poor man
had one lamb. A rich man had many. The rich man took the poor man’s one
lamb for a feast. What to do? David’s judgment came down hard, and
Nathan quietly spoke, "Thou art the man."
David realized that the Judgment that he
rendered was the judgment that fell back upon him. Only then was he able
to face his life and change it.
This is precisely what Jesus describes in
Matthew 7:1-5. And this is precisely how it works with us. When we judge
another, we are opening a little window into ourselves.
Paul says it in Romans 2, verse 1.
Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others,
for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you,
the judge, are doing the very same things.
I don’t know how many of us feel an "OUCH"
when we hear these words. I certainly do.
We could go further if we had more time.
Romans 14 talks about not judging one another’s beliefs, but rather
working out our own and loving each other for the gift that they are.
Nearly every time we go into our kitchen,
we have a cat at our feet, begging for food.
When cats beg, they get affectionate.
Rubbing your legs and purring and looking innocent.
You almost forget all the chewing and claw
marks on furniture and window blinds.
Almost, but not quite! All that loving and
purring is designed to make you forget all the times you’ve gotten after
them.
But even that much affectionate behavior
eventually gets annoying.
Our cat has taken to giving little love
bites. Nothing hard, but when you’re standing there in your bare feet,
it’s not comfortable. And it demands your attention.
Our cats know how to get in front of you.
Cats anticipate where you want to take your next step, and they slide
around in front of your foot so you have to pay attention.
The problem is, as your attention becomes
divided, the frustration mounts, and you can’t concentrate on what you
went into the kitchen for. It’s always a divide between what’s happening
and what you intend. When we get stuck in that divide, it’s aggravating.
When we were born, God put an invisible
backpack on our shoulders. It has a few rocks in it. Maybe it’s there
for our protection. When something doesn’t go like we want it, we can
reach in that backpack and throw one of those rocks.
Sometimes it is a small rock, maybe just a
hostile glance. Sometimes it is a big rock; when we want someone to
notice, to pay attention.
What we don’t realize is that when we throw
one rocks, God has appointed an angel to replace it with two more. As we
go through life, throwing rocks, our backpack gets heavier and heaver.
And we have only two choices. Either we will eventually break down under
the load. Or we can simply take off the backpack and lay it aside.
As we said, this doesn’t mean we stop
working for a better world. It’s that our ability to work for a better
world gets snookered when we entangle ourselves in negativity. First
clear the log in our own eye; then see clearly to fix another.
Only when we lay the backpack aside can we
feel the release and the freedom to remake the world. Actually, it is
God flowing through us that remakes the world. We just release the
negativity so we can get out of the way.