“Watch where you plant your feet!” That’s the command I
hear every time I help with the garden. “Watch where you
plant your feet!” My job is to clear out winter’s debris, the
dead leaves and old twigs. I am to open up the flower beds
for spring. To do that I have to step into the flower beds; I
cannot reach all the dead clutter from outside. I must plant
my feet inside the flower bed. But from the master gardener
– or shall I say the mistress gardener? – at my house comes
the worried cry, “Watch where you plant your feet!” She is
concerned that my weight will press down on some tender
shoot and destroy it. She worries that I do not know where I
am or where I need to be.
That is a parable of our lives. Much of the time we do not
know where we are or where we need to be. We do not
know where we are in our lives; are we at the beginning of
some new venture that will take us into new possibilities? Or
are we just beating the same old dead horse, doing the same
old same old without moving forward? We do not know.
The very “dailyness” keeps us from knowing where we are.
The clutter with which each day is filled means that we lose
sight of the direction of our lives. We are just too busy trying
to pay bills, clean house, go to work, go to school, manage
this task, do that chore. We don’t know where we are in our
lives.
And if we do not know where we are now, it’s pretty certain
that we will not know where we need to be. It is not clear to
us where we need to put our feet down and do some work,
because we have forgotten the direction God has given us.
We have never really noticed that our creator has put us in a
particular place and time and has said, “Bloom where you
are planted.” Our greatest sin is that we forget where we are
and do not know where we need to be.
“Watch where you plant your feet!” Well, where DO we plant
our feet? To what DO we give ourselves and why? Is there
something more to life than just the daily grind of going to
work in order to earn the cash to pay the bills so that we can
maintain ourselves until tomorrow when we will go to work in
order to earn the cash to pay the bills so that we can
maintain ourselves until tomorrow when we will do it all over
again? Is that all there is? Or is there more?
Do you know where you need to be? Job found out where
he needed to be. But it was not easy getting there. First he
had to lose everything he held dear; you know the story by
now – how he lost health, wealth, family, self-esteem, the
whole enchilada. Where was he after all that loss?
Physically, he was on the town garbage heap, surrounded by
rotting debris and three lousy friends. Where was he after all
that loss? Spiritually, not sure. Didn’t know. But he learned
something: he learned that where he was just might be
where he needed to be.
That’s the heart of today’s message: that where we are,
distasteful though it may be, can be where we need to be. In
the providence of God, our feet are planted in what feels like
garbage, but it just might be exactly where we need to be.
In our Scripture, Job says to God:
“You put my feet in the stocks, and watch all my paths; you set a
bound to the soles of my feet.”
Lord, you’ve got me nailed down. You’ve planted me right
here, where I need to be. How did Job get there? How did
Job come to know where he needed to be?
I
Job began by wanting to be everywhere. He started out
wanting to be unlimited. He wanted no boundaries. Job saw
no reason to plant himself in any one place; he wanted it all.
As this chapter opens, Job has listened to his friends, he has
heard all of their theologizing about why Job is suffering, and
Job tells them, when they finally take a breath from their
windy speeches, “I don’t need you. I don’t need to hear what
you have to say. I already know everything you know. But I
want more. I expect more. I want to be without limits. I want
no boundaries.” Listen to the way he said it:
"Look, my eye has seen all this, my ear has heard and understood
it. What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you. But I
would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to argue my case with
God.”
“What you know, I also know.” I know where I am. I know
all your ideas. But I want more. “I would speak to the
Almighty, and I desire to argue my case with God.” Job is
not satisfied to live life out where he is. He wants more. He
wants to go right to the top. He wants to live without
boundaries. “Just get out of my way and let me go all the
way up to God Himself.” Don’t fence me in!
When I talk with young people, that’s what I often hear.
Young people want to be without boundaries. Give me no
restrictions. Let me have it all. Young people see everything
as wide open. The young son of one of our members, when
he woke up on his fourth birthday, told his dad, “I’m four
years old now. I can do anything!”
We smile, because we adults think we know that you cannot
live life without limits. We know that there are going to be
boundaries. Unless you are Bill Gates, you are not going to
have multi-megabucks. Unless you are Michael Jordan, you
are not going to set the sports world on fire. And guess
what, even Michael’s knees wear out! We know that life is
going to have limits.
But let us applaud the desire of young people to live without
limits. Let us understand that the need to break boundaries
is natural and God-given. The problem is that most of us
settle for the same old same old; we forget how to expand
our experiences. We have believed the old adage that you
cannot teach an old dog new tricks, so we have quit trying.
Job’s friends wanted him to settle for the same old same old.
They told him that what had been was what will be, so give it
up, Job. Quit trying to press forward, just settle for what
you’ve got, garbage and all.
What a shame that we give up so soon! What a shame that
we so easily suppose that were we are now is all there is.
Does it bother you, as it does me, that when we sing the
Gloria Patri on Sundays, we sing, “As it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen”? That’s
not very hopeful. Not very Biblical either, by the way!
No, God has made us in His image and after His likeness,
and that means we are creative. We have the ability to go
beyond old limits. No matter what your age, you can reach
out, you can discover new horizons, you can break old
boundaries. I’ve told you about one of our youngest, who
thought that at age four he could do everything, and you
smiled. But smile too at one of our oldest, who in her mid-
90’s is writing and publishing poetry! Smile at our seniors,
who are determined to enter the computer age. Smile at
adults willing to admit that they did not know enough about
the Bible, and so enrolled in the Christian Basics class.
Smile at deacons willing to confess that their understanding
was limited, and so took the Ten Basic Steps to Christian
Maturity course. God has called us to know not only where
we are, but also to push the boundaries and expand the
limits, to know more, to be more.
Robert Kennedy, quoting George Bernard Shaw, spoke for
Job and spoke for breaking the bounds, when he said, “You
see things; and you say ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never
were; and I say ‘Why not?’” Know, like Job, that you know
where you are, but you want to argue your case with God
Himself. You want to push the limits.
II
But now let’s get real. Let’s wake up and smell the coffee.
You do wake up one day, don’t you, and recognize that it
isn’t all happening? That the things you thought you might
do you are not going to do. That some of the choices you
made, whether good ones or not, have foreclosed on other
choices. You do wake up at some point in your life and know
that you have settled into a pattern that will make it
impossible to do some of the things you once dreamed
about. You know where you are, exactly where you are in
your life. Maybe you know you are thirty-something and
thirsty for more than work. Or you know you are celebrating
your thirty-ninth birthday for the nth time, you are parenting
like crazy, and you working on at least two mortgages.
Maybe you know you are fifty, fat, and fatigued. Or that you
are sixty, senile, and set in your ways. You may not like
it, but you know where you are.
But do you yet know where you need to be? Do you yet
understand where God wants you to go and how God wants
you to invest your life? Job teaches us that when you know
where you are, but do not yet know where you need to be,
that’s the time for risk-taking. That’s the time to do
something on the edge. It is time to step out from settled,
established comfort, time to trust God, time to take a risk.
Job is ready to throw the dice:
“I will speak, and let come on me what may. I will take my flesh in
my teeth, and put my life in my hand.”
Job says, I am going to step out from where I am, I am going
to experience what is out there. I am going to be responsible
for my life, and I am going to take a risk.
You see, most of us who, like Job, find ourselves in the
middle of the garbage heap, will look at the mess around us
and will say, “Ain’t it awful?” but go back to scratching our
own itches. We will cluck our tongues over the crime, the
poverty, the ignorance, and the sheer lostness of our
communities, and then, having complained about how it just
seems that God isn’t doing enough, will go back to our own
problems. Like Job, scraping at his dead skin with a broken
piece of pottery, we scratch our own itches, and guess what?
They itch all the more. And the garbage is still there.
If you know where you are, but you haven’t figured out where
you need to be, it’s time to trust God, take a risk, and do
something new. It’s time for holy boldness. It’s time to go
where God has already gone. You remember, if you’ve
taken the “Experiencing God” course, that one of the
fundamental principles of discipleship is that God is already
at work in the world, inviting us to join Him in His mission.
That will involve trusting God and taking a risk.
I praise the Lord that we have some risk-takers in this
church. For example, we have three seminary students in
our membership, and not one of them is what we used to
think of as a typical seminary student. I, for one, went to
seminary fresh out of college. In fact, I was so eager and
ready to get there that I enrolled in a summer course two
days after getting my university degree at age 22. There
wasn’t much risk in that for me. I was still young and
unencumbered, and, had it not worked out, I could have
done something else in a heartbeat. But our three
seminarians came to where they are after living rich lives in
other disciplines and with many responsibilities. One of
them, though still relatively young and single, had embarked
on a successful career in entertainment. Another was a
biochemist, a husband, and a parent with young children to
support. The third was an energetic, resourceful career
woman who had raised her family and was able to do well
anything she was asked to do. But all of them took the risk
of stepping out from where they were to take on a rigorous
course of study, not knowing just exactly where it would lead.
But trusting God and taking the risk. Saying, with Job, “Let
come on me what may. I will take my flesh in my teeth, and
put my life in my hand.”
Oh, I know that we get to the place where we just want to
have things predictable. Some of us no longer want
excitement or challenge. We may be, like Job, sitting on a
garbage heap, but it’s our garbage heap, and we don’t want
to change it! I know people who, whenever any new idea is
brought up, will shoot it down by saying, “What if?” What if
my money runs out? What if my energy wanes? What if it
rains? What if it doesn’t rain? What if, what if, what if? I
read of somebody who refused to go to see Venice, because
what if the tides rose while he was there? I had a friend in
college who refused to drive his car on Interstate highways,
because what if the engine overheated and he couldn’t get to
a service station?! What if? Job has an answer, “Let come
on me what may ... I put my life in my hand.” Risk!
Oh, for people who will not let the “what ifs” stand in their
way! Oh, for Christians who will trust God to lead them and
to empower them. Taking a risk is what some of us do when
we give a tithe and more of our income to Kingdom work.
We trust God and take the risk that He is able to care for us.
Taking a risk is what some of us do when we sound the call
for a new church ministry. We trust God and take the risk
that others will hear that call and join us. Taking a risk is
what some of us do when we step out in this aisle and walk
down here to commit ourselves to Christ and to His church.
We trust God and take the risk that others will embrace us
and that Christ willkeep His promises. If you know where
you are in your life, but are not sure where you need to be,
then take the risk, trust God, step out, and you will be on
your way to where you truly need to be.
III
But now, when Job takes that risk, he prays that God will
move him toward where he needs to be. Job has struggled
with his losses, but has stood up on his hind legs and has
affirmed that he does know where he is and does know he
wants to set out on something new, beyond his boundaries
and limits.
And Job has announced too that he is ready to be a risk-
taker – willing to take his life in his hands and step out on
faith. So what will it be? What should Job do now? Where
does he need to be?
Job prays. And in Job’s prayer I do not see so much a
complaint as I do a desire to live a life connected with God,
joined to God’s purposes. Job’s prayer takes him toward
knowing where he needs to be:
“Only grant two things to me, then I will not hide myself from your
face: withdraw your hand far from me, and do not let dread of you
terrify me. Then call, and I will answer ...”
Job prays. And in this prayer he locates himself. He finds
out where he needs to be. He finds out that he needs to be
in God. He needs to be reconciled with God. He needs to
be where God is, he needs to be in fellowship with God.
Nothing else really matters. Nothing else really counts. For
if you discover that where you need to be is with God, in
God, then everything else falls into place. The address you
live at, the job you do, the church you are a part of – all of
that is transformed. All of that becomes what God wants to
give you rather than what you’ve never received.
Watch now – Job prays that God would not let him turn
away, that God would erase Job’s fears and deal with his
shortcomings. Job prays that God would be intimately
involved in his life. He simply prays for the presence of God
in his life. And then Job reaches his conclusion. I read it at
the beginning of the message. You remember it:
You put my feet in the stocks, and watch all my paths; you set a
bound to the soles of my feet.
Lord, now I know where I need to be: right here. You’ve put
my feet in the stocks, you watch my paths, you’ve nailed my
feet to the floor! I’m not going anywhere. I know where I
need to be. I need to be with you! I need to be where you
have put me. I need to be right here discovering what you
want me to do, right here. I do not need to look for
someplace better; I only need to see what you need me to do
for you right here. I do not need to wish I had different people
around me; I only need to see the people I already have as
those you want to love through me. After all, it’s like a
famous “Peanuts” cartoon, where Charley Brown says to
Lucy, “Do you see that plane, Lucy? It’s full of people going
somewhere. That’s what I’d like to do. I’d like to go
somewhere and meet new people. And maybe the new
people would like me better. But Lucy shoots down that
fantasy, as Lucy generally does: “Forget it, Charley Brown,
once the new people got to know you, you’d be right back
where you started.”
No, it’s not a new place or new people or new anything that
we need. It is not for us to fantasize about what great things
we might do if we had another place to do them; it is for us to
plant our feet here, right here, in God Himself. In what God
is doing here. It is for us to see our lives as opportunity and
not as garbage.
“Watch where you plant your feet”. Russell Conwell, the
founder of Temple University, liked to tell a story about a
man who traveled the world over, in search of diamonds,
only to discover acres of diamonds in his own backyard.
“Watch where you plant your feet.”
When my wife-gardener tells me to watch where I plant my
feet, she is not telling me to wander far afield in search of
something new to do. She is helping me know that right
where I am, there is a mountain of trash to deal with, and a
heap of problems to be solved. If I will just take the risk of
stepping out of the safe zone, under the gardener’s
guidance, I will soon enough know where I need to be.
