Living Life As It Comes to You - Part II



For everything there is a season, and

a time for every matter under heaven

Ecclesiastes 3:5b-8

A Sermon By The Reverend O. Thomas Miles

Silver Spring, Maryland 20910-4123 - Copyright 2007



* * * * *

In part 1 of this sermon,

preached in November 2006,

we considered

the first seven of fourteen

observations on life

made by the author of Ecclesiastes.



In this second part of the sermon

we consider the second

seven observations

made by Ecclesiastes.

The author of Ecclesiastes,

a man called a preacher,

describes life

as it came to him and

how he lived it--



and his apparent belief

that life comes to all of us

with the need

to live it as it comes to us.



You might disagree with

his list of opposites.



You might delete some items and

you might add some, but

it is difficult

if not impossible

to argue with his basic idea:



that life comes to us

in the extremes of

its opposites.

In spite of being a preacher,

Ecclesiastes' author,

we discovered,

is, by golly, a realist.



(A trait frequently missing

from some clergy!)



He not only faces life head-on;

he also recognizes

how emotions

express our reactions

to life as it comes to us.



To put it mildly,

he is gutsy

about the human experience.

In his eighth observation about life

he recognizes our humanity

whenever life vacillates

between the

extremes of human experience.



The preacher says

there is "a time to embrace.".



No doubt everyone can recall

her or his time to embrace:

perhaps when, as a child, you ran, crying,

into the arms of mother or father;



when, after a long separation,

the mere site of a loved one

demanded nothing less

than an embrace-

possibly with tears;



when some time of anxiety ended

because things

turned out all right and

relief came to mind

as well as body

through an embrace.

In describing one of his friends,

poet William Winter (1836-1917) wrote:



His love was like the liberal air,--

Embracing all, to cheer and bless,

And every grief that mortals share

Found pity in his tenderness.(1)



But the author of Ecclesiastes

surprises us.



He says there is also

a time

to refrain from embracing.



How seemingly strange yet realistic.

Sometimes the human psyche,

including the body,

wants and needs nothing

but to be left alone.



If anyone has said to you,

"Don't touch me!"

you know the time to

refrain from embracing.



But it seems to be more than that.



It seems simply that

sometimes embracing

only exacerbates the trauma,

only makes matters worse.



You sense it;

you refrain-

as painful as

refraining might be.



In another difficult observation

the author of Ecclesiastes

says there is



"a time to seek and a time to lose."



An obscure writer,

Clarence Day (1874-1935),

wrote what he entitled

Farewell, My Friends.

In a jocular style,

he told his friends



"I'm off to seek the Holy Grail.

I cannot tell you why."



Does every human being

seek a "Holy Grail" of some kind?



The fulfillment of an ambition,

the achievement of some personal goal,

the success that will

dramatically change life for the better,

that personal contentment

which so frequently

slips through human grasp.



Ecclesiastes' author

agrees that such times occur.



But he provides that

inevitable caveat:



there is "a time to lose."



No one wants to lose.



Ask any player of games.

Ask yourself.



Yet the nature of life,

as Ecclesiastes' preacher discovered,

is that times occur when we lose.



You will not fulfill every ambition,

you will not retain every love,

you will not hold life totally together,

you will not win every "battle."





That is the nature of life:

be prepared to lose

a major part of life

as well as a minor part occasionally.

To experience such a loss

does not mean

God is punishing you.



That is simply what life is like:



a time to seek and

a time to lose.



From seeking and losing,

the preacher lays on

another hard truth:



there is "a time to keep and

a time to throw away."



Is the preacher

talking about attics, closets, and garages?



Or does he address

something more fundamental?



Is he talking about

whatever keeps us

from progressing personally,

what blocks our way

toward whatever

private goals

we set for ourselves?



Maybe the attic,

the closets, and

the garage



provide symptoms of

the status of the soul.



Maybe what is outside of us

portrays us on the inside.



Maybe what we insist on keeping-

the clutter of the soul-

denies life to us.



What clutter of the soul

does anyone discard?



Look inside yourself!



Only you can tell yourself

what is worth keeping and

what should be thrown away.



But the point is this:

some personal aspects of life

are worth keeping and

some worth throwing away.



That is the nature of life.



Another seemingly strange observation

by the preacher follows:



there is "a time to tear, and

a time to sew."



Again, we cannot imagine that

the preacher

talks literally of tearing and sewing.



But if not, what does he talk about?



Maybe this:



Life is like a garment

that has become

too big or too small.



What your life has become

no longer fits you.



You are larger than your life, or

your life is smaller than you.



Your life has gone out of style.

Something must be done.

Alterations are required!



Tear out the old threads and seams,

whatever they might be.



You know what they are.

You sometimes

talk to yourself about them.



"I'm going to stop doing this," or

"I'm going to start doing that," or simply

"I am going to change!"



Ralph Waldo Emerson

offers a thought in that vein:



"For everything you have missed,

you have gained something else;

and for everything you gain,

you lose something."(2)



So it is when we alter

the garment we call life.



Now the preacher in Ecclesiastes

lays on us an observation

that sometimes stings.



He says there is "a time to keep silence."



How difficult that is-

to remain silent

when we think or

know we are right.



To be wise enough

to know when

to hold one's tongue.



To be wise enough

to back off when

you know that

merely one more word from you

will tip the scale

in the wrong direction.



A man whom I cannot identify

offered these words on silence:



" . . . it is no time for words

when the wounds are fresh and bleeding;

no time for homilies when

the lightning's shaft has smitten

and the [person] lies

stunned and stricken;



Then let the comforter

be silent;

let him sustain by his presence,

not by his preaching;

by his sympathetic silence,

not by his speech."(3)



Recall Aesop's fable of

the fox and the crow.



Ambling through the forest,

fox sees a crow in a tree.



The crow holds in his mouth

a delicious morsel of cheese, and

the fox wants it.



But how to get crow

to open his mouth and

thus drop the cheese.



Fox decides to flatter crow, and

crow, unable to keep his mouth shut,

opens it and drops the cheese

into fox's jaws.



For everything there is a season-

a time to keep one's mouth shut.





But, Ecclesiastes' preacher says,

there is "a time to speak."



To say the right thing

at the right time.



Words that comfort,

words that heal,

words that forgive,

words that fit the occasion and

the human need.



At last the preacher in Ecclesiastes

touches the heart:



there is a time to love.



But that observation

might make us wonder:



Is there ever a time

not to love?



Is there ever a time

to fail

at the fundamental ingredient

of life with one another?



Yes! Says the preacher.



There is a time to hate

what is hateful.



There is a time to hate

even one's self

when one's self

proves anything

but loving and loveable.



Author James Baldwin,

in his book Notes of a Native Son (1955),

considering himself and hatred, wrote:

"My life, my real life, was in danger,

and not from anything other people might do

but from the hatred I carried in my own heart."(4)



Moving from love and hate,

the preacher's last observation

relates to war and peace.



There is a time for war, and a time for peace.



How unnerving

that there should be

a time for war;



how promising that there should be

a time for peace.



That observation-

could it be more timely?



To bear the burden

of choosing a time for war.



To bear the burden

of making the choices

that create peace.



To end his observations

with peace!



How pertinent!



For without peace

all other observations about life

stagger to remain upright.



Into that context

of conflicting observations about life

comes Jesus Christ.



And Jesus Christ leads the apostle Paul

to leave us with this benediction:



"And the peace of God,

which surpasses all understanding,

will guard your hearts and

your minds in Christ Jesus."

1. J. H. Bromley

2. Compensation.

3. John Lorimer

4. Title essay