Tuesday, July 8, 2014

From Weary to Wise

My playfully wise niece Gigi.
July 6, 2014

Proverbs 2:1-11
My child, if you accept my words
 and treasure up my commandments within you,  making your ear attentive to wisdom
and inclining your heart to understanding;
if you indeed cry out for insight, and raise your voice for understanding;  if you seek it like silver, and search for it as for hidden treasures—  then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.
For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding;  he stores up sound wisdom for the upright; he is a shield to those who walk blamelessly,  guarding the paths of justice
and preserving the way of his faithful ones.
Then you will understand righteousness and justice  and equity, every good path;  for wisdom will come into your heart,
and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul;  prudence will watch over you;
and understanding will guard you.

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
16“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, 
17  ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; 
we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ 
18For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; 19the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her children.”
25At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
28“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Sermon: From Weary to Wise

If you ask my niece Gigi want she wants to be when she grows up, she doesn’t hesitate for a second: “A FLOWER!” she proudly proclaims.  When my nieces asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I explained that I’m already grown up and I’m a priest (they’re Catholic so, at least for now, this makes the most sense to say). 

Gigi once again piped up at that.  “When I grow up, I want to be a FLOWER priest!” she shrieked.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her a human being cannot actually grow up to become a flower, that this is not possible.  And actually, who am I to say?  Perhaps wanting to be a flower when she grows up will lead Gigi to become a great botanist who discovers unknown flora and fauna in the wilds of the rainforest.  Or maybe she’ll become a farmer who tends to fields of flowers with loving care.  Or maybe she’ll become a florist, beautifully arranging flowers to bring joy and delight to people each day.  Perhaps her idea of being a flower has some wisdom in it, after all.  No, I’ll not correct her just because I am older and “wiser” and know people cannot turn into flowers.

After spending a week with those nieces of mine, I can’t help but wonder: when is it exactly that we decide growing up and becoming “wise” means letting go of our inherent wisdom as children?

Is there wisdom in letting money more than passion and imagination dictate our chosen career path?

Is it wise to become cynical, jaded and disillusioned?

Are conformity, bitterness and regret wise?

Is it wisdom when we allow playground squabbles to be translated into us-verses-them on a global scale of bullying and retaliation?

Do we grow up and suddenly “get” who God is in a way we couldn’t comprehend as children?

Do we allow age to wipe away all the mystery, the magic, the beauty of God?

I think this is what Jesus is getting at.  If you call yourself wise, you’re probably not.  If you consider children to be emulated more than the most powerful and wealthy adults you know, you probably are.

Now, I’m not advocating throwing a temper tantrum when someone gets in the ten-items-or-less line in the grocery store in front of you with eighteen items.  I’m not saying we should send people to the corner when they’re downright grumpy (though perhaps that would be a good ideas!).  What I am saying is that, somehow in the process of growing up, we’ve lost something.  And that something is God-given wisdom.

The wisdom to know that God is God, and we are not, and that no matter what happens, even when we do not understand it, God can be trusted.

The wisdom to know that the world is a magical and sparkling place of discovery, where every branch and raindrop has a story to tell if only we will slow down enough to listen.

The wisdom to know that there’s no shame in taking a nap if it means you’ll be more pleasant to those around you.

The wisdom to show how you’re really feeling, allowing yourself to express deepest joy and sorrow without whitewashing your emotions into a bland exterior of feeling nothing.

The wisdom to know that our lives are completely dependent on the lives of others, no matter how much we try to worship independence.  We are connected, we need each other.  God made us that way on purpose.

The wisdom to know that we can’t ever stay the same but that the future, whatever it might bring, holds as much possibility as challenge.

Yes, there is much wisdom in childhood.  It is no accident that Proverbs, when speaking of wisdom, begins with “my child.”  It is no accident that Jesus, when speaking of wisdom, said “wisdom is vindicated by her deeds or children.”  That the things of God have been hidden from those who think they’re too wise to learn them, and at the same time revealed to infants.

Children have a wisdom we have been taught to forget.  But the good news is this: if we can unlearn it, we can learn it again.  And we can discover the goal of wisdom, the promise Jesus gives us at the end of this text in Matthew.

Jesus names that wise goal.  Is it glory?  No.  Respect from our peers?  No.  A diploma to hang on the wall or promotion to revel in?  No.  The goal of wisdom, that worth searching for like hidden treasure, is very simple, really.  Rest.  “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

Wisdom is found in rest, not the frenetic search for knowledge.  Wisdom is knowing God knows all we do not, and we can trust God with what we don’t understand.  And with that trust comes a freedom that this life and the life to come are not entirely up to us.  We can stop trying to prove our knowledge.  We can stop trying to build empires that will insulate us from hurt or pain or want (because of course, they won’t).  We can stop comparing our life to those this world deems as wise and successful. 

We can simply be.  Rest.  Just as we are.  Just as children are.  No greed, no regret, no learned jadedness, no chaotic racing to be the best.  Just rest, the blessed rest God promises all of us.  All we have to do to receive this rest is feel the weariness of our tired bones and spirits, and admit we have spent too much time being independent grown ups and not enough being children of God, dependent on our Creator.

Come like a child.  Leave behind the past, you can’t bring it with you anyway.  Leave behind the façade of perfection you project, you can’t fool God with it anyway.  Leave behind your adult ways of self-sufficiency and individualism, God made you for community.  Leave behind the need to be busy and just be who God made you to be.  Come to God, seeking only one thing: wisdom.

And the nonsensical thing about the wisdom of God, as nonsensical as a child growing up to be a flower, is that searching for God’s wisdom IS finding it.  Seeking after it is knowing it.  Hoping for it is resting in it.  There is no perfect path, no exact route to childlike wisdom.  There is just today, and the desire to search for the rest God gives. 

So search.  Seek.  Find your childlike self once more.  For in that quest is your rest, not because you’re perfect and not because you’ve earned it.  But because you are, and always will be, a child of God.  That is the only title you need.  Amen.