Riderwood Village Chapel, Silver Spring, MD August 8, 2004
In May our son got married. He and his bride passed out little bottles of soap to be used instead of the traditional rice, so we all celebrated at the end of the wedding by blowing bubbles. Well, my daughter’s child, his niece, a little less than two years old, ran all over the place trying to catch soap bubbles. But you know what happened; every one of those bubbles vanished just before she could get it.
I’ve learned over the years that it does not matter how hard I work at things: they will not get done. There are many things that are immensely frustrating, because I finish them, but they won’t stay finished. Do you know what I mean? The kinds of jobs that you do and almost immediately you have to do them again?
Weeding a garden, for example. I spent a good-sized chunk of my alleged vacation pulling up unwanted plants. Frankly, I would have thought that if it’s green, it’s good to have, but she who is the mistress of the plantation says, “No, the weeds have to go.” And so up they came, yes ma’am, yes ma’am, three bags full. When it was all done, I felt such a sense of accomplishment. So I went out the next morning to admire the results of my labors, and what did I see? More weeds! Saucy little creatures, poking their impertinent heads up through the mulch. Weeding is a hopeless task that won’t stay done.
Or feeding the household. That too is a never-ending task. Because he whose hunger pangs you satisfied last night wants to know tonight, “What’s for dinner?” Even Jesus found out after He had fed the five thousand that they came back the next day for another miracle! You know the feeling. Probably that’s one of the reasons some of you moved to Riderwood, just to get away from those never-ending household chores. My parents moved to a place like this after my mother set her laundry basket down on the steps one day and announced, “I don’t want to do this any more.” Turns out she didn’t mean just the laundry. She didn’t want to do laundry, she didn’t want to do cooking, she didn’t want to do dusting, not any more. Why? Largely because those things won’t stay done. They keep coming back. .
How do you feel when you think about that? Tired? Frustrated? I think the word is “weary”. Weary is a few steps deeper than tired. Not just tired, not just pooped, but weary, bone weary, exhausted. Because you’re not sure you’ve really accomplished anything that will last.
What about church? Is church like that for you? Are you weary of church? Church just keeps on going, Sunday after Sunday, sermon after sermon, prayer after prayer, and what does it all mean? Oh, when I get to heaven, I am going to ask the Lord if it was really necessary to put a Sunday into every single week! Are you weary of church?
Years ago I was a fill-in church organist. One of the places I went regularly was a church where the organ was behind a carved wooden screen. I could sit at the organ bench and see what the minister was doing even when others could not. Each Sunday, when it came time for the pastor to lead the prayers, I could see him go to the altar and heave a great sigh (whew!), sinking to his knees to pray! It sure looked as though for him, church was a great big tiresome burden!
Is that you? Is there a way out of being weary with church? I think there is. John will help us.I
Notice first that John tells us that we won’t get weary if we live out of a response to love and not out of obligation. When you do something not only because you love it, but also because somebody loves you, then you won’t get weary. But if it is just a job – if it is merely an obligation – then it won’t be long before it’s a heavy chore and a painful burden. John reminds us it doesn’t have to be that way:
By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome
That interests me. God’s commandments are not burdensome. It is not wearying to serve God – when? When you know that God loves you. When you do something out of love and not out of obligation, it is not a burden.
Over my years of pastoral service, I’ve watched families care for their terminally ill relatives. In those years, I’ve seen people who cared for others tirelessly and without complaint. But then I’ve seen others who mumbled and grumbled about every little inconvenience, and made a hundred excuses. I’ve been to nursing homes and hospices where, every time I went, a family member was there, keeping vigil. But I’ve also been to places where it seemed as though the patient was completely abandoned by his family. They got tired of taking care. They got weary. What made the difference? If they knew that they had been loved. If they remembered how mom or dad took care of them years before. It’s not a burden to respond in love when you know that somebody has loved you. And you don’t get weary; you find that extra reserve to keep you going if you know you have been loved.
I’m thinking today about people who carry tremendous loads of responsibility? Here we are at the anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Every year in August I try to devote some attention to world peace, thinking about this anniversary. I think about the wearisome task of maintaining peace in a world that does not intend to keep the peace. Our President, his advisors. Whatever your political preferences, when you have just an inkling of what it means to ferret out worldwide terrorism, there aren’t enough dollars in the world to make it worthwhile to take that on. Why does anybody wants to run for President? When every day Palestinians and Israelis bomb one another into oblivion, you know you are not going to succeed at peace-making. When every night truck bombs explode in Baghdad, you know you are going to have only terrible news to share with American families. What makes our statesmen do what they do? Don’t they get weary?
Really, it has to be that a statesman works for peace because he knows that somebody paid the ultimate price for him. It wasn’t just because they got drafted or the law required them to go. It was out of love. “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” If you do what you have to do responding to somebody’s love for you, it’s not a burden. It’s a privilege and a joy.
So now, again, do you consider church just an obligation? Are you weary of church? It’s just a chore? It takes time and energy, effort and money, too much. If that’s where you are, I do not scold you, but I do wish for you an experience with a loving God. I do not tell you you ought to be involved in church; I just remind you of a God who first loved us.
Remember the cross. Remember that Jesus gave His life, freely, out of love for us. When we respond to what God has done for us, then it is not burdensome to follow His commands. The spiritual says. “Walk together, children; don’t you get weary.” Remember His love, and you won’t get weary. II
But that still leaves us with the question as to whether all this frantic activity makes any difference. Suppose I do decide that I am going to be a faithful disciple out of love for God and not out of duty. Suppose I do choose to be engaged in Kingdom business not because it is a burden, but because it is a privilege. Does it matter? Will it make any difference? Or am I just spinning my wheels, getting worn-out and weary for nothing? Does church matter? I’m afraid I can take you to churches where nobody expects anything much to happen, and of course it doesn’t. They’ve gotten weary.
Brothers and sisters, we know someone who had every reason to ask that question. We know someone who must have felt at one point that His life had been futile and that His words had burst like bubbles. We know someone who tried to give people a message, but they rejected it so often He called them a wicked and perverse generation. We know someone who worked intensively with a leadership team, and you would have thought that they, of all people, would have understood, and yet one of them denied, another betrayed, and a third doubted. We know someone who took special pains with an elite inner circle, but when it came down to the crunch, they preferred to take a nap. We know someone who went to His very death disappointed with His followers and even distanced from His God. We know Jesus, stretched out on a cruel cross, mighty weary. Weary indeed. He had every right to wonder if any of it made any difference.
But that cross was not the last word. God did not stop at Calvary. There is more than death, defeat, and disappointment. One bright morning, Jesus burst forth from the tomb, not dead, but saturated with life; not defeated, but victorious; not weary, but full of power! And that is all I need to tell me why I can keep on keeping on. John says it so much better than I ever could:
And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith. Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?
Who is it that conquers the world? The one who believes that the risen Christ makes all the difference.
Fifty-nine years ago this week, in August of 1945, America used nuclear weapons to end the war with Japan. August of 1945, was not, however, the first time American planes had attacked the Japanese home islands. The first time had come in April of 1942, Jimmy Doolittle’s raid. The Doolittle raid was designed to answer the attack on Pearl Harbor, which had been led in December of 1941 by a Japanese aviator named Mitsuo Fuchida. Remember that name – Mitsuo Fuchida, the leader of the Pearl Harbor attack. Under Doolittle, sixteen B-25's headed for Japanese territory to unload their punishment. Because in those days bombers could not fly long distances, several crews had to ditch their aircraft in the sea, and a number of Americans were captured. One of them was a young man, Jacob DeShazer, who had been in training in California at the time of Pearl Harbor. When Jacob heard about the day that shall live in infamy, he felt a tremendous hatred for Japan and all things Japanese. He wanted revenge more than anything else in all the world. But here he was, only a few months later, imprisoned for forty long months. A weary business, because he thought he could never finish what he started out to do, punish the Japanese.
But just as he was about to give up hope, truly weary of what was happening to him, someone gave Jacob a Bible. Jacob DeShazer says that when he discovered that trusting in Jesus would give him salvation, he felt free. He felt as though it didn’t matter what his captors might do; he was ready for anything. You see, the risen Lord took away his hatred and his weariness; Jacob had a new life.
After the war DeShazer returned home, went to seminary, and returned to Japan as a missionary. One day he was handing out literature and Bibles at a train station; one person who took a Bible was Mitsuo Fuchida, the commander of the Pearl Harbor raid. In that Bible Mitsuo also read of the one who had risen from the grave, and Mitsuo also became a believer. The risen Lord took away Mitsuo’s guilt and weariness; Mitsuo too had a new life. The old enemies were now at peace. The old battles were over. Things did change. Peace did come. Things happen in the risen Christ.
Are you weary, children? I tell you, there are no guarantees, humanly speaking, that anything we do will have lasting success. There are no warranties that our lives will achieve anything. There is no assurance that we will accomplish anything. But we do not depend on statistics to assure us that our lives have meaning. We go to one and only one place, and that is to the empty tomb. We go to the empty tomb, which reminds us that out of death, God brings life; out of defeat, God creates victory; out of frustration, God makes fulfillment; and out of weariness, God offers refreshment. We go to the empty tomb and remember that there was one who made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Himself the form of a servant .. and who for the joy set before Him endured the Cross, despising its shame, and is now seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
I tell you, in Christ there is victory. If I did not believe that I could not continue another year, another Sunday, another word. If I did not believe that I would give up on church in a heartbeat. But when I see the risen Jesus, and know what He can do for those who trust Him, my weariness evaporates and my energy is restored.
This is the victory that conquers the world, our faith. Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.
In Him God will accomplish all things. “Walk together, children, don’t you get weary! Walk together, children, don’t you get weary. Walk together children, don’t you get weary, there’s a great camp meeting in the promised land. We’re gonna walk and never tire, there ‘s a great camp meeting in the promised land.”
Don’t you DARE get weary!
